Elizabeth Mansfield (27 page)

Katie grinned. “Sounds a queer start to me,” she agreed.

The girl was given free rein. She made her herb wash, brought it to the patient, and after several applications a grateful Lady Denham was feeling some relief. Roger, entering his mother’s bedroom in the early afternoon, was surprised to see her out of bed. She was sitting on a chaise, looking comfortably relaxed, while Katie applied cold compresses to her still-swollen cheek.

“Well, Mama,” Roger greeted her, “you seem better this afternoon.”

“Thanks to this child here,” Lady Denham told him. “Lady Upsham sent her here to doctor me. Her name, she tells me, is Katie-from-the-kitchen.”

Roger turned curiously and found himself regarded with equal interest by a pair of shrewd, bright eyes. Katie had heard a great deal about the fascinating Lord Denham and had even seen him once or twice from a discreet distance. This was the first time, however, that she could really look at him closely enough to make an evaluation. Roger could not help smiling at the intense scrutiny to which she was subjecting him. “How do you do, Katie-from-the-kitchen? How do you come by such a strange name?”

Katie curtsied awkwardly. “Miss Letty and Miss Prue like to call me that,” she explained. “It’s only a lark, y’know. That’s where they come’d to find me.”

“And a very good find it was, too,” Lady Denham said affectionately. “I shall miss you when you leave me this afternoon. If ever you want a new place, child, come and see me.”

Katie bobbed again. “Thank you, m’lady, but I like my place well enough.” And she turned away to wring out a fresh compress.

Roger sat down beside his mother. “I’ve come to ask if I might use your carriage this afternoon,” he said. “It’s still raining too hard to permit me to use the curricle.”

“Of course you may,” Lady Denham said, “but I can’t imagine why you should wish to drive out on such an afternoon.”

“Because, my dear, I promised to take Letty for a drive,” he told her with a smile.

Katie, who had heard every word, turned around abruptly. She had looked closely at this man for whom her sweet Miss Letty had sobbed so bitterly. If she was any judge—and Katie had no doubts of the perspicacity of her own judgment—this man was the one for Letty. Perhaps it was not too late to save Letty from the folly of her impetuous elopement. “Beg pardon, m’lord,” she said bravely, “but if y’re meanin’ to drive Miss Letty today, you’ll be bum-squabbled.”

Roger looked at her sharply. “Why? Is she ill?”

“No, sir. She ain’t at ’ome.”

“Oh?” Roger asked, his eyebrows raised. “But I’m sure she’ll return in time for our drive. We had an arrangement …”

“Yes, sir, but she’s gone, you see.”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t see. Gone where?”

It took all Katie’s courage to answer. “To Gretna Green, m’lord.”

Roger stared at the girl, the color draining from his cheeks. His mother sat upright with a cry. “Katie, what are you saying? Has Letty eloped?”

Katie nodded humbly.

“I don’t believe it!” Lady Denham declared, thunderstruck. “Not Letty. She has always been the most well-mannered, beautifully behaved—”

“Do you know with whom she has gone?” Roger asked intently, not even aware that he’d interrupted his mother’s words.

“Yes, sir, I do. She went wi’ Mr. Peake.”

For a moment the two stared at Katie motionless. “Brandon?” Lady Denham gasped. “It’s not possible!”

Roger got to his feet and went to the window. “Yes, it
is
possible,” he said in a flat voice. “She
told
me they were betrothed.”

“Roger! Are you saying that you
knew
something like this would happen?”

Roger stared out at the relentless rain. “No, for I refused to believe it. What a fool I’ve been! I could have
sworn
she didn’t care a fig for him!”

“She don’t,” Katie said decidedly.

Lady Denham looked at Katie with disapproval. She had forgotten the girl was there. It was most improper for them to discuss the matter before a servant, and even more improper for the girl to interject her views. But Roger turned and was eyeing the girl with interest. “What do you mean, Katie? Explain yourself.”

“I hardly think, Roger,” his mother said in gentle rebuke, “that it is at all seemly to discuss this matter with Katie.”

“Let’s forget the proprieties, Mama. This is too important for me to worry about trivial conventions. Go on, Katie.”

Katie looked at Lady Denham hesitantly, but Lady Denham shrugged and waved an approving hand at her. “My son is right, girl,” she said. “Go ahead and tell us.”

“I think Lord Denham ’ad the right of it,” Katie explained. “Miss Letty never talked about Mr. Peake, nor thought about ’im, neither.” She met Roger’s eye and added challengingly, “She cried o’ nights for some
other
gent, not ’im.”

Roger’s gaze wavered under Katie’s forthright challenge. Lady Denham asked, “How do you know, Katie, that it was some ‘other gent’ for whom she cried?”

“She ’adn’t no reason to cry over Mr. Peake,” Katie said bluntly.

Roger gave a short, mirthless laugh. “You’re quite a knowing one, aren’t you, Katie?”

Katie smiled broadly. “That’s what everyone says.”

“And you didn’t tell us all this just to poke bogey, did you, girl?”

“No, sir. I ain’t no blabbin’ chaffer-mouth.”

“Then, if you didn’t say all this to tell tales, you had another reason. You want something of me, isn’t that it? Well, what is it you want me to do?”

“
Stop ’
er, o’ course!”

“And how am I to do that?”

“It’s a longish ride to Gretna, ain’t it? And I don’t suppose they call you a bruisin’ rider for nothin’.”

Roger rubbed his chin speculatively. “I have no rights in this—no claims,” he murmured, half to himself. “She’s given me no right to interfere—”

“
Who’s worried about trivial conventions now?” his mother asked, her eyes dancing in excitement.

“Mama!” Roger said in surprise. “Are
you
telling me to go after her?”

“Are
you
the ‘other gent’ who made her ‘cry o’ nights’ ?” Lady Denham countered.

Roger looked from his mother to the abigail. They were both watching him intently. He colored.
“I
think
I am,” he admitted.

“Then stop her, Roger, before it’s too late,” his mother urged warmly.

“Come on then, Katie-from-the-kitchen. I’ll take you back to Lady Upsham and tell her my intentions. Mama, I hope you can manage without your carriage for a day or two. This expedition may take quite a while.” With a quick kiss on his mother’s cheek, he strode out the door, pulling little Katie firmly behind him.

***

Lady Upsham’s household was in a turmoil. Her ladyship had discovered the absence of her niece by late morning and had sent for Prue. The two had repaired to the sitting room where, for more than an hour, Prue had had to endure an emotional harangue. The word had spread among the servants that some crisis of an extremely delicate nature was transpiring, and each of them managed to find some excuse to linger about in the corridor outside the sitting room until Miss Tristle and the butler took stations at each end of the hallway and kept them away. In the midst of this contretemps, an agitated Mrs. Peake had made her appearance. She had been ushered into the sitting room, and from then on the sounds of her shrill and hysterical outbursts could be heard all the way down the corridor, making a dramatic contrast to the low, ironically bitter tones of Lady Upsham’s voice.

It was at this awkward moment that Lord Denham and Katie arrived at the door. The butler tried to discourage his lordship from entering, but Lord Denham ignored him and demanded to be announced to Lady Upsham at once. The butler tried to tell him that Lady Upsham was already engaged. “With Mrs. Peake, I presume,” Lord Denham remarked drily, and walked past him into the sitting room, with Katie close behind.

The tension in the room was almost tangible. Lady Upsham stood near the fireplace, her cheeks pale and her lips compressed. Pacing about the room nervously was Mrs. Peake, her entire expression revealing the utmost agitation. In the corner farthest from the door sat Prue. Her hair had not been dressed, her eyes were stormy and red-rimmed, her face was strained, and she twisted a handkerchief tightly through her fingers. Lady Upsham did not take kindly to the sight of the intruders. She fixed a cold eye on Roger and said curtly, “Lord Denham, I’m afraid you find me occupied with Mrs. Peake on pressing business. I must beg you to excuse us. I shall be happy to receive you at some future time.”

“Forgive this intrusion, ma’am,” Roger said, undeterred, “but your pressing business is also mine. I have some information for both you and Mrs. Peake and must advise you of it
at once.
”

Lady Upsham recognized the determination of his jaw and promptly waved the butler away. Then turning her eye on Katie, she tried to dismiss her as well. But Roger suggested that she might prove useful in their talk, and the girl was permitted to remain. “I stopped in to tell you, ma’am, that you need not worry about Letty. I leave immediately to follow the pair, and I hope to restore her to you safely before long.”

Mrs. Peake gasped audibly. “How did you know?” she asked in a high, horrified voice. “Did Brandon tell you?”

“No, Mrs. Peake. It was Katie who brought me the information.”

Lady Upsham’s eyebrows shot up. “How dared you, Katie? Have you no loyalty? Is this how you repay Miss Letty’s kindnesses to you—by spreading this terrible tale all over town?”

“No, Lady Upsham, you’re out there,” Roger intervened. “The girl is no gossip. She told only my mother and me, and you may surely count on our discretion.”

“But she shouldn’t have told
anybody
!” Lady Upsham said unyielding. “Why didn’t you come
to
me,
you ninny?”

Prue spoke up from her corner in a tone of sullen disgust. “What good would it have done to come to
you,
Aunt Millicent? What could you have done about it?”

“That’s exactly the point,” Roger agreed. “You could not have ridden after her. That’s why Katie thought of me.”

“I don’t see what
you
have to do with all this,” Mrs. Peake said petulantly. “These Glendenning girls have a way of embroiling outsiders into their affairs in a manner I cannot like.”

“I’m afraid, Mrs. Peake, that this whole bumble-broth is more my doing than Miss Glendenning’s. I suspect strongly that it was I who drove Letty to this pass. But I’m sure that I can straighten it all out, one way or another, and bring Letty back unharmed. Have I your permission to try, Lady Upsham?”

Lady Upsham looked up at him with such intense relief that her eyes became misty. Not given to sentiment, however, she did not shed a tear. She merely favored him with a tremulous smile and asked hopefully, “Are you sure you can catch them, Lord Denham? I believe they set out more than five hours ago.”

“I’ll catch them,” Roger said reassuringly, “and before nightfall, too. So you may rest easy, ma’am.” And with a quick bow to Mrs. Peake, he went quickly to the door. There he found his way blocked by a determined Prue.

“You shan’t go,” she declared. “Not without me.”

“I’m touched by your concern for your sister,” Roger said with gentle irony, “but there’s no need for—”

“My sister? Do you think I’m concerned for my
sister
? You and Aunt Millicent have enough concern for her to make mine completely unnecessary. Letty, Letty, Letty—that’s all I’ve heard! She’s the only one you’re worried about. What about
Brandon
? Has anyone given any thought to what
his
feelings might be when you ride up and wrest Letty away from him?”

“Well,
really,
Miss Glendenning!” Mrs. Peake declared coldly, “I fail to see how Brandon’s feelings can be any concern of yours. I am his mother, after all, and
I
am convinced that a bit of humiliation will be an edifying lesson for him.”

Prue stared, large-eyed, at Mrs. Peake and opened her mouth to remonstrate. Something made her change her mind. Brandon would not like it, she realized, if she engaged in a squabble with his mother. Ignoring her comment, Prue turned back to Roger and said in an urgent under-voice, “Please, Lord Denham, I
must
go! Take me with you!”

“I warn you, young lady, that it will not be a pleasure trip. We will not make any but the briefest stops, you will be jostled about unmercifully, and you will find me in no mood for idle conversation.”

“Nothing you’ve said deters me in the least,” she assured him.

“And I won’t wait for you to change your clothes or dress your hair.”

“I need only to put on a shawl.”

Roger looked questioningly at Lady Upsham. Her ladyship, sore beset, put her hands to her forehead, sighed, and made a helpless gesture of consent. Roger gave Prue a quick grin. “Come along then, minx. We’ve wasted too much time already.”

Prue gave a little cry of joy and reached up to hug Roger gratefully.

“Lady Upsham,” Mrs. Peake objected, “surely you don’t intend to permit that child to involve herself in such a pursuit—!”

“Surely, Mrs. Peake, you do not mean to interfere with my judgment in—”

But Roger did not wait for more. With a wink and a wave to Katie, he grasped Prue’s hand, and the two ran out to the carriage, leaving the ladies to continue their dispute without witnesses.

I
n his hurried planning for the trip to Scotland, Brandon had anticipated reaching Wolverhampton by nightfall. But the rain had turned some of the roads to mud, had slowed the horses, and had so dampened the spirits of the driver that, by four that afternoon, they were only a short way past Worcester. By this time, Letty and Brandon were both regretting the rashness of their decision to engage in this enterprise. Brandon had been shivering in his damp clothes and soggy boots all day. He was now chilled to the bone. His head had begun to ache, his eyes were clouded, and there was a persistent and painful tickle in his throat. He knew the signs—he would, by nightfall, be very sick indeed.