Emily Hendrickson (16 page)

Continuing on to the last room, she stopped, then hesitantly rapped on the door to Lord Leighton’s room, unsure of what she ought to do.

Hadlow answered her knock, looking very much the melancholy soul. He immediately ushered her inside, gesturing to the bed across the room.

“How is he?” she whispered. The bedroom was utterly dark, the only light from the fire and one candle. It was stifling.

“I fear for him, and that’s a fact,” Hadlow intoned in a gloomy, sepulchral voice. He gave Elizabeth the shivers.

“Why do you not join Rose for a moment? Perhaps there is something she needs. You would be just the one to tell her how to go on.” It had not escaped Elizabeth that Rose much admired Hadlow, and was not the least reluctant to work with the valet. It was highly doubtful that Filpot had been around, or that he would be willing to assist a mere lady’s maid.

“Very good, miss.” Hadlow bowed, then reluctantly left on silent feet. His mouth had quirked a moment, and she supposed it passed for a smile.

Once he was out the door, Elizabeth charged across the bedroom and quietly opened the draperies. Soft winter light sifted into the room and over to the great four-poster bed where a man lay in utter stillness.

Sick at heart, Elizabeth cautiously approached the bed, carrying the satchel containing the tonic and potions concocted by Purvis.

She placed a tentative hand on his brow, then nearly jumped out of her skin when a husky voice said, “I am not dead yet, my dear.”

“You have a slight fever, however,” she replied briskly, once she gathered her wits about her.

“You believe I shall survive, do you not?” One hazel eye peered up at her, followed by the second, wincing at the pale light that now flooded the room.

“Of course. Only the good die young.” She prudently avoided meeting that hazel gaze.

“I knew there was a reason for my wicked ways.”

“Hush. You ought not say a word, especially those,” she admonished. Her heart grew lighter at his silly talk, for she absurdly felt that it meant he was far from hopeless when he could still tease her.

“Truth.”

“Rubbish. Now, I shall give you some of the tonic Purvis sent along. I daresay it shall be no more nasty-tasting than that posset you urged on me.” She poured out a spoonful, then held it to his mouth. Ignoring all the sensations that came from leaning over his bed, practically falling into his arms once again, she played the proper nurse, poking the spoon into his mouth. “Good,” she concluded, backing away from the bed with haste.

“Don’t bite,” he mumbled, then sneezed.

“Perhaps, but I believe you shall sleep, and well.”

“Rubbish,” he drowsily replied, closing his eyes once again.

Elizabeth perched anxiously on the chair placed by the side of the great carved bed, a holdover from some other house, for it was not in the current style.

Perhaps he merely had a severe cold, she thought with hope. His arm lay outside the covers, and once he looked to be soundly asleep, she ever so gently pushed up the sleeve of his nightshirt to examine the bandage. Observing that he did not stir, she deftly cut it loose with the scissors she had tucked into the pocket of her enveloping apron.

A smile wreathed her face as she beheld the wound. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as well, for his injury appeared to be healing nicely. It certainly mitigated her feelings of guilt, although precisely why she ought to feel guilty when
he
was the one who had snuck into her room like a thief was beyond her ken.

“Wait until I tell Purvis,” she whispered to herself. “How pleased she will be.”

She applied the ointment from the jar Purvis had tucked into the satchel, then put a fresh bandage on his arm, smoothing his sleeve down again and tucking the coverlet nicely about him when finished. If he had a fever, it was best to keep him warm.

Purvis had said she found it helpful to listen to a chest, for it seemed to reveal a good deal about the person’s health. Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth cautiously bent over the great bed and placed her ear to David’s chest after pulling back the coverlet a little. There appeared to be a bit of a wheeze, but no rattle such as Purvis had warned about. The scent of sandalwood permeated his nightshirt, and she felt an overwhelming desire to place her head against his shoulder, to know again the comfort he might offer—when he wasn’t teasing her to death.

She straightened, then smoothed his sheets, studying his face with worried eyes as she worked. Pray his ailment was no worse than a raging cold.

Deciding that since Lord Leighton slept she might as well return to her other patient, she quietly left the bedroom. Out in the corridor Hadlow paced back and forth.

“He is resting nicely, Hadlow. Why do you not catch a bit of sleep? I feel certain you must have been awake half the night, looking after him.”

After giving her a grateful nod, the valet ambled off to the little room adjacent to David’s, while Elizabeth sped down the hall toward Lord Crompton’s room.

“Well, well, if it is not the little angel of mercy,” Egbert drawled hatefully.

She looked up, then held the door lever firmly in one hand, guarding the earl against intrusion. “If you like to think so.”

“How does my esteemed cousin go? Hadlow refuses to say a word. One might think David at death’s door.” He minced down the hall toward her, wearing extremely smart Hessians that looked to be too small for him.

“Hardly.” She wondered if he wished him there and beyond. “Lord Leighton is sleeping nicely at present, but I believe he has nothing more than a nasty cold. No small wonder when you consider the wetting he took.”

“You did as well, yet you appear glowing this morning. How fortunate that David manages to find such a charming attendant to nurse him to health. If I did not detest those nostrums, I might consider it as well.” The somewhat oily smile he bestowed on Elizabeth did not appeal to her in the least.

She gave him a furious look. “He is not feigning illness, sirrah. And
I
did not have the affliction of a wound. Excuse me, if you will.” She flashed him a quelling look, then entered the earl’s rooms.

Rose greeted her with relief. “He wants to speak with you, miss.”

Instructing Rose to rest in the earl’s dressing room, Elizabeth hurried to his lordship’s side, tilting her head as she assessed his condition. He looked much improved.

“Well? I have heard you keep busy today.”

“Your son is under the impression he is at death’s door, no doubt due to Hadlow and his dreary countenance. Poor man.”

“And how did you manage to reassure my son?”

“I told him that only the good die young.” Her eyes met his lordships in rueful admission of her absurd conduct.

The earl gave a frail bark of laughter, his eyes twinkling in just the manner she had noticed in his son. “I would sit up, I believe. I feel quite in prime twig today.”

“Is that so? We shall see.” She touched his forehead, then settled him, nicely fussing over his pillows with womanly touches.

“My son is a shrewd man. I approve his betrothal to you. Sensible girl.”

Elizabeth almost laughed, recalling her hoydenish ways while in London. She felt as though she had aged years since coming to live with Aunt Bel—especially the last week.

“I should like to explain a few matters for you, since you are to be David’s wife,” Lord Crompton declared once settled against his pillows.

“What might that be?” She ought to inform him that she most likely would not wed his son, but that was David’s responsibility. Elizabeth drew up a chair to the bedside, looking expectantly at the earl, his knitted nightcap sitting jauntily on his head while he fixed on her that gaze so like his son’s.

“I went over my will and the estate papers not long ago. As you may know, much of the estate is entailed and would go to my heir, David, as a matter of course. The settlement is set up in a peculiar way, for ordinarily he could arrange leases. My grandfather did not wish to release a whit of control, and so tied the land to himself and the subsequent earls, reserving even the right to grant leases to himself, and those to follow.” He coughed slightly.

“Here, sir,” she murmured, offering him a glass of barley water and smiling at his grimace of distaste.

“I gave him the income from this estate, for under the terms of the entail he cannot get any other until he takes my place. At the time of his marriage, I shall settle additional income upon him, and when he has a son, if I still live, that income shall be raised. Since you have no father to bargain on your behalf, rest assured that I shall see to it that you are well guarded, my dear. You need have no concern that you or your children will be unprotected. Your children shall inherit David’s land.” He reached out and gently patted her hand.

“Oh, dear,” she murmured. Elizabeth felt sure that she must be as red as a beetroot at these candid words. She didn’t know what to say to him, for although David had announced the betrothal and the earl approved, with Aunt Bel pushing things all she could, the two central characters in this farce were not of a mind to wed. Or at least one of them felt that way.

“I like a gel that is modest,” the earl said with decided approval. “I trust your brother will be home one of these days. David said he is in Portugal. But rest easy that in the event he is delayed and you two wish to wed beforehand, I shall not let you down.”

Elizabeth wished to avoid the subject of a wedding. In her heart she well knew that were the matter of the Valentine’s Day visit to her room be widely exposed, she would have no choice. But she also knew she longed for a loving relationship with her husband. And David teased.

“I appreciate your caring more than I can say. I miss my own papa very much, and I should like nothing more than to claim you as my substitute father, if I might.” There, she had revealed her affection without actually declaring that she would wed David.

“Do you suppose you might read for a time?” he asked wistfully.

“Certainly.” She shared a smile with him before picking up the book again. “ “The next day opened a new scene at Longbourn. Mr. Collins made his declaration in form.’ “

“Silly chit,” muttered the earl. “She will get into a hobble, mark my words.”

Elizabeth nodded, then added, “It is very vexing to have a character in the book with my name who is such a silly widgeon, sir.”

“Quite.” He shifted, then looked expectantly at Elizabeth, waiting for her to continue.

She returned to the world of Jane Bennet and Mr. Darcy, utterly absorbed in their problems, and annoyed with Elizabeth Bennet as only one can be with a character in a book.

She read until her voice began to fade and he looked as though he would welcome a bit of sleep. Placing the book on the beside table, she gave him a fond smile. She eased him back down in the bed, tucking him in as though he truly were her father.

“Perhaps a little nap after all that reading. I vow the morning has sped by far too quickly.”

A willing Rose took her place in the room, while Elizabeth sought a pot of tea and perhaps a small nuncheon.

Out in the corridor, she decided to check on David. Assured that he still slept, she marched down to the ground floor to begin her intensified assault. She was determined to find a clue as to who might be the one who used the poison. Both Augustus and Egbert had strong reasons. Filpot might out of stupid spite, or some peculiar grounds. Only Jeremy Vane was free of suspicion, as he had no motivation. He couldn’t inherit, could he? So what would his motive be?

Entering the north wing of the house, she found that here the business of the estate was conducted. In the first of the rooms, Jeremy Vane sat behind a desk piled with ledgers and papers. She glanced at the shelves neatly stacked with books, then smiled at him.

“I haven’t seen you in some time. You certainly are a busy man.” She casually looked about the room, running a finger along a row of books. She might think Mr. Vane to be as innocent as a lamb, but David detested him. Distrust usually had a foundation, even if it were illogical. Although this was one time she had to ignore an intuition.

“Good day. Miss Elizabeth. I trust you are well. That your dip in the icy water left you none the worse? May I say you look in radiant good health?” His face reddened, and he fiddled with the pen in his hands like a schoolboy.

Elizabeth smiled kindly. “I fare well, thank you. And I believe both Lord Leighton and his father improve daily.”

Mr. Vane bowed his head. “I hope that is the case. Poor Lord Crompton has had a time of it, what with his wife dying at the birth of their daughter, and then the child as well. The Percy family is not a prolific one, I fear.”

“Witness Lord Augustus and his only son.” She glanced at the shelves, then added, “Is there a family tree about?”

“I believe there is, but not quite up to date,” he replied dryly. “There will need to be changes once you wed David.”

Not knowing quite how to evade that subject, for she was beginning to tire of the matter, Elizabeth murmured a vague reply, then drifted from the room. If she wanted to investigate this wing, she would have to do so when Jeremy Vane was elsewhere. Whereas Mr. Vane seemed to her eyes all that was amiable, appearances could be deceiving.

Back in the central hall, she studied the elaborate fireplace surround while pondering motives for murder. She absently straightened a picture, then adjusted the placement of a chair too close to the wall.

“Out and about again, Miss Elizabeth? I trust that David appreciates your devotion to the family,” Egbert said in a somewhat acid voice. “Of course, I expect there is a bit of self-interest lurking in your deeds, if truth be known.”

Remarking the contrast between biting language Egbert used and the gentle speech employed by Jeremy Vane, Elizabeth wondered how the two could manage to survive in the same house. Perhaps that was why Mr. Vane retreated to the estate offices in the north wing.

“I am well, sir,” she gently replied, ignoring his insulting remarks about her interest in family affairs. “And your father? He does satisfactorily?”

“You are wandering about the house this morning,” Egbert said, ignoring her inquiry. “Inspecting your future home, are you?”