Forsters 04 - Romancing the Runaway (2 page)

He breathed deeply of the cold, crisp air, filled his lungs with it and felt alive, truly alive. Who could possibly prefer the crowded
ton
when they had all this as an alternative? Clad in a greatcoat and warm boots, he walked into the stud and surprised the grooms going about their early morning duties.

“Morning, m’lord,” said Carter, Gabe’s stud manager. “You’re about early.”

“No time to waste in bed.” Gabe ran his eye over the row of heads peering inquisitively over their half-doors and paused to give Rominus, the Trakehner stallion he was responsible for introducing to the stud, a quick rub on the nose. “Everything in order?”

“Aye, it is that.”

“Another poultice has gone missing, Mr. Carter,” one of the grooms burst in to say. “Oh sorry, m’lord, didn’t see you there.”

“What’s all this about missing poultices, Carter?” Gabe asked.

“Not sure. That’s three now over the past two days. One of the youngsters took a knock a couple of days ago and we’ve been making up hot poultices to treat the swelling.” Carter scratched his head. “It’s odd.”

“Perhaps one of the lads treated the injury without your knowledge?” Gabe suggested.

“No, I’ve asked them all.”

“Then you’re right. It is odd.”

“That’s what we can’t figure out, m’lord. It’s mighty peculiar. And some of the food Mrs. Goodson sent over for our breakfast. We thought it was the lad from the village who comes up every day, offering to help. He’s got hollow legs has that one.”

“It can’t have been him, Mr. Carter,” the groom said. “He’s not been up the past two days. His ma’s ill, apparently, and he’s needed at home.”

“It’s a rum deal, so it is,” Carter said. “Who’d want to steal poultices and our damned breakfast? It’s not as though we have any close neighbours.”

“Who indeed?” It was damned strange, Gabe thought as he tacked up Murphy, his grey Irish stallion, intent upon a ride around the estate. He’d been meaning to do a circuit for the past couple of days. Although Hal’s employees were efficient, he still liked to check on things for himself. But the weather had been perishing and Gabe had other duties that kept him indoors. Still, if there was a petty thief abroad it might be fun trying to track him down. The food disappearing Gabe could understand. The men probably hadn’t put it aside carefully enough and the dogs had helped themselves, most like. But poultices? He shook his head. Who the devil would want them?

Murphy was anxious to stretch his legs after several days of being cooped up inside. Gabe gave him his head, still thinking about the oddity of the thefts. Urchins from the village would have a five-mile walk if they were intent upon thieving. Somehow he couldn’t see them bothering. No, Carter must have got it wrong. Someone had used the poultices and forgotten to account for them. As to the food…well, if it wasn’t the dogs, someone just got greedy and was too embarrassed to own up.

Something flew across the path in front of them, surprising Murphy and causing him to rear up. Gabe struggled to regain control of his horse, talking soothingly to him until he stopped pawing the ground and remembered his manners.

“What the devil was that? Looked like a damned wolf.”

Curious, Gabe steered Murphy in the direction the beast had disappeared in. It led to one of the barns dotted around the estate, used for storing hay. No one should be in this part of the park at this time of year but footprints in the frosty grass leading to the barn told a different story. Gabe dismounted and opened the door.

The wolf followed him inside. It turned out to be a large domestic dog that wagged its tail at Gabe as it trotted up to sniff his hand. Gabe absently scratched his ears. He’d been half right to assume it was a wolf. It definitely had Irish wolfhound in its makeup but was far from pure bred. It had lopsided ears, gangly legs, a thick, shaggy grey coat and different coloured eyes. In short, it was the sorriest excuse for a dog he’d ever seen. Even so, Gabe rather liked the chap. It wasn’t his fault if his breeding was off.

“Who are you?” he asked, turning his attention to a magnificent palomino Arab mare with what was presumably a Forster poultice wrapped around its off-fore. “Well, that’s one mystery solved.” He touched the mare’s neck and then ran his hand down the injured leg.

It took him a moment to find the owner of this odd assortment of creatures. She was wedged between several bales of hay, wearing a habit, a cloak and an inappropriate hat, and was covered with a blanket he recognised as belonging to the Forster tack room—another theft Carter had failed to notice, presumably. The woman—no, girl, since she was very young—was sound asleep. Her lips were blue and she was trembling quite violently, which was hardly surprising. The temperature fell dramatically at night this time of year and if she’d been here any length of time she would be freezing—hopefully not literally—to death.

Gabe took a moment to examine her more closely before waking her. Her hair, like his, was dark blond, shades of light and dark reflected in its rich thickness. She was very slim, he could tell that much despite the layers that covered her. She had a small nose bedecked with freckles, high cheekbones and a deathly pale complexion. It was impossible to see the colour of her eyes since they were firmly closed, covered by a generous fall of lashes. Even so, Gabe felt they ought to be blue.

The girl wasn’t beautiful, especially when compared to his sister-in-law Beth, whom many supposed Gabe might eventually marry. Even so, something inside him lurched as he watched the sleeping infiltrator. There was an air of desperate vulnerability about her, obvious even in repose. Her horse was first-rate, as was the sidesaddle and bridle left in the corner of the barn. Her clothing was plain but of good quality. No one of her station in life would hide out in a barn in a remote corner of a private estate in the dead of winter unless they were in deep trouble.

Gently Gabe shook her shoulder and her eyes flew open. They were indeed the deepest, most fathomless blue he’d ever seen in any woman’s face. They were also filled with alarm and she was trembling, but whether that was still from cold or was now attributable to fright Gabe was unable to conjecture.

“How long have you been here?” Gabe asked.

“Where…who are…” She blinked several times, as though trying to bring him into focus. “What day is it?”

He flashed a reassuring smile. “Wednesday.”

“Then I must have been here for two days.”

She didn’t seem too sure about that. Gabe could see she was in some distress but before he could advise her not to move, she gulped and tried to stand up. Her legs gave out beneath her immediately, her eyes clouded over and she fainted clean away.

Chapter Two

Gabe caught her just before she fell into the hay. She was as light as air, in spite of the many layers of clothing she’d used to ineffectually ward off the cold. Her hands were like ice, as was her face when he placed a hand on her brow, and she was still shivering uncontrollably. He didn’t require medical knowledge to understand she was suffering from the effects of exposure. He needed to get her somewhere warm and there was no time to spare.

Her eyes fluttered open but remained unfocused. Gabe took off his heavy coat and wrapped her in it, which is when she started to struggle.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said softly. “You’re safe now and I’m going to take you somewhere warm.”

“I didn’t…not a…thief, I didn’t—”

“Shush.” He pushed strands of hair away from her damp forehead, worried that she was actually going to die. “It’s going to be all right,” he said, reassuring himself as much as her.

“No. Money…have to pay…can’t steal—”

She was delirious, but clearly had something important she wished to say. Gabe picked her up and carried her outside, keeping her face turned towards his chest to protect it from the biting cold. The dog trotted along beside them, obviously set to follow wherever his mistress went.

Gabe was now presented with another problem. It wouldn’t be possible for him to mount Murphy with the girl in his arms. What to do?

“Do you think you can stand for a moment?” he asked.

She mumbled something, but Gabe didn’t think she’d even heard his question. With no other choice available to him, decisive action was called for. He placed her on the ground but she couldn’t support herself and slithered to her knees, still babbling incoherently. Gabe swung into his saddle, moved Murphy right next to her and then leaned over as far as he could.

“Give me your hands!” he urged.

He had to repeat the request three times before he got through to her and she lifted her arms. Grunting from the effort it took, Gabe used all his strength to pull her up in front of him. She didn’t weigh much but was a dead weight because she wasn’t helping him.

Once they were both on Murphy’s back, Gabe turned his stallion in the direction of the Hall. He knotted the reins so they wouldn’t dangle down and cradled his unnamed guest against his chest, using both arms, attempting to infuse some of his own body warmth into her.

“Take us home as quick as you can, Murphy.”

Gabe sank his calves into Murphy’s flanks, and the stallion took off at a smooth canter, well trained enough to require no further direction. The young woman clung to him, shivering still and muttering incomprehensible words as Murphy covered the two miles that separated them from the Hall. The dog loped beside them, constantly glancing up at him. Gabe felt a great sense of achievement when they arrived and the girl’s condition didn’t seem to have deteriorated.

Murphy slowed, his hooves clattering over the cobbled yard. Carter came running out, presumably wondering whose horse it was since he wouldn’t have expected Gabe back so soon.

“I solved the mystery of your missing poultices,” Gabe said to his bemused manager. “Quick, take her from me.”

He handed the girl to Carter and slid from Murphy’s back. A groom came to take the stallion and led him away.

“She was in the North Barn,” Gabe said, taking his uninvited and unnamed guest back from Carter. “Been there a couple of days, far as I can ascertain.”

Carter blinked. “I’m surprised she survived this long then. It’s been below freezing these past nights.”

“I need to get her warm.” Gabe turned towards the house. “There’s a mare in that barn with a swollen fetlock.”

“Are you telling me she walked two miles and back every day to get poultices and food?” Carter appeared bemused. “She must be desperate. Wonder who she is.”

That was what Gabe would very much like to know. “Send someone to bring the mare back here and attend to her fetlock. There are also some personal belongings of the girl’s. Have them sent up to the house.”

“Very good, m’lord.”

Gabe strode off with the semi-conscious woman in his arms, calling for the housekeeper as soon as he was inside.

“Oh, good heavens!” Mrs. Goodson said when she responded to his summons and found Gabe standing in the centre of the massive entrance hall with his unconventional visitor still in his arms. “Whatever do we have here?”

“She’s been exposed to the elements for several days, Mrs. Goodson. She needs to be warmed up. One of the smaller guest rooms might be easier to heat.”

“Yes, I’m sure it would.”

Mrs. Goodson sprang into action. A huge fire was lit in one of rooms and warming pans were sent for. Gabe carried her up and left her to the care of the housekeeper and maids.

“Let me know if you think I should send for the doctor,” Gabe said.

“I doubt that will be necessary.” Mrs. Goodson examined the girl and calmly took control of the situation. “Do we know her name, my lord?”

“I know absolutely nothing about her. I discovered her camped out in the North Barn.”

“You probably saved her life, the poor lamb. She wouldn’t have survived for much longer in these conditions. It’s been bitterly cold.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Gabe paused as a thought occurred to him. “Don’t leave her unattended, Mrs. Goodson. Have a maid remain with her until she regains her senses.”

Mrs. Goodson nodded. “Yes, that would probably be for the best.”

Gabe had barely left his nameless visitor with Mrs. Goodson and returned downstairs before the girl’s personal belongings were delivered to him. He looked through them, hoping to find a clue as to her identity. She had a change of clothing wrapped in a bundle, some money, a rabbit’s foot and, most interestingly of all, a journal. Gabe opened the cover, expecting to find a name scrawled on the flyleaf. He wasn’t disappointed.

His guest was one Miss Miranda Cantrell.

“Miranda. Hmm, the name suits her.”

Disappointingly there was nothing more written on that flyleaf. No direction and no indication of where she’d come from. Gabe hesitated, sorely tempted to turn the pages and learn more about his mystery lady. After all, she’d been trespassing on Forster property and, were it not for him, he didn’t imagine she would have survived another night out in the open. Even so, Gabe resisted such ungentlemanly behaviour. He would just have to be patient and wait for her to tell him more about her circumstances when she was in a position to do so.

“We’ve managed to warm her up, my lord,” Mrs. Goodson reported a little later. “She’s regained a little colour but has a slight fever and a swollen ankle, which we’ve attended to.”

“Has she said anything?”

“She keeps talking, but isn’t making much sense.”

Gabe nodded. She and her horse both had sprained fetlocks, and yet she’d still made a four-mile round trip to get food and supplies for the pair of them. He shook his head, admiring her fortitude and determination, wondering what desperate situation she’d been attempting to run away from. “Is she awake?”

“No, we gave her something to make her sleep, which is what she needs to do. That dog of hers is up there with her, though.” Mrs. Goodson pursed her lips. “He’s an amiable creature, until anyone tries to remove him from his mistress’s side.”

Gabe smiled. “I doubt that he’ll cause any problems.”

“No, I’m sure he won’t. The poor creature was starving. One of the girls took him up some scraps and he wolfed them down.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Goodson. Let me know when she’s up to having visitors.”

“Certainly, my lord, but I doubt whether that will be today.”

Gabe doubted it, too, and was irrationally disappointed at the prospect of the delay. Miss Cantrell intrigued him and excited his suspicions. He’d deemed it wise not to leave her unattended. He was here alone, she might well have influential connections, and…well, Mrs. Goodson had understood his dilemma. Damn it, he’d come home to avoid getting embroiled with scheming females, and yet he now appeared to be responsible for one.

She was a lady, but probably not one of their set. He’d never seen her locally, nor in the
ton.
Whatever, she was definitely in trouble of some sort and Gabe was anxious to know what form that trouble took. He would help her if he could—after all, he’d saved her life, so that made him responsible for her, didn’t it? But if helping her meant compromising his own position, he would send her back to wherever she’d come from just as soon as she was fit enough to travel.

*

Miranda dreamed that she was comfortable again. The biting cold no longer penetrated right to her very core and her ankle no longer throbbed like the devil. In her imagination she lay between crisp cotton sheets that were warmed by two pans. A huge fire radiated heat throughout the room and the heavy pile of covers enveloping her made her body sizzle like fat in a hot skillet. Someone held her head and spooned broth between her lips. Someone else put something cool and soothing on her burning forehead.

Images of a handsome face were in the forefront of her dream. The handsome man, her guardian angel, had deep brown eyes, long blond hair and strong arms that made her feel safe in a way she’d never known since the death of her father. The man’s smile caused her already weak knees to give out and for him to sweep her into those protective arms of his as though she were nothing more than a child. Botheration, his image kept fading and she very much wanted it to be the last thing she saw before she died.

And she was dying, floating outside of herself, comfortable and composed. Well, if this was the end, it wasn’t so very bad. It also meant she’d had the last word and actually escaped Mr. Peacock. When he found out that she preferred death to living beneath his tyrannical rules, then he’d probably be very sorry indeed. The thought comforted Miranda and she managed a brief smile.

“You’re awake,” a faraway voice said. “How do you feel, miss?”

Miranda was very reluctant to abandon her luxurious dream. Even so, if she’d learned nothing else at Miss Frobisher’s Academy, the need to be polite was too well ingrained to be ignored. She forced her eyelids open again and gasped. Where the devil was she? The sheets she lay between
were
of the finest crisp cotton and the room
was
almost too warm. But for the handsome man, who was nowhere in sight, it
hadn’t
been a figment of her imagination.

A maid’s kind face hovered above hers and one of her hands brushed across Miranda’s brow. She blinked repeatedly, still not trusting her eyes. The room was sumptuous. But how did she get here? The last thing she recalled was being in a barn with Bianca, tending to her swollen fetlock. She removed one hand from beneath the covers and a damp nose pushed its way beneath it.

“Tobias!” Miranda stroked her dog’s head, more confused than ever. She already knew she wasn’t back at Mr. Peacock’s—her surroundings were far too grand for that—but Tobias being in the room with her doubly convinced her. He wasn’t allowed to set paw in Delroy Point because Mrs. Peacock was convinced that he carried fleas with him. What a notion! Miranda suspected she was actually afraid of him and used the fleas as an excuse.

“Where am I?” she asked, turning towards the maid.

“You’re at Forster Hall, miss.”

Miranda’s heart sank. Forster Hall was the home of the Marquess of Denby and the best residence in the district. It must have been the Forsters land she’d hidden herself on. They’d found her, had probably figured out who she was, and Mr. Peacock would be on his way to get her back. Then she remembered Bianca and her own problems no longer seemed quite so dire.

“My horse?”

“Is being cared for. There’s no need to worry about her.”

Miranda shuffled into a sitting position in the luxurious bed and was heartened when the room didn’t spin. And what a room it was. Now that she could see more of it, she was doubly impressed. She’d thought some of the houses of her school friends that she’d visited were superior, but they were nothing compared to this.

“This is very grand…er, what’s your name?”

“Jessie, miss. This is just one of the smaller guest rooms. Lord Gabriel said to bring you here because it would be quicker to heat a smaller room.”

“Lord Gabriel?” What an appropriate name for a guardian angel. “Lord Gabriel Forster, is he the one who found me?”

“Yes, miss, and he’s most anxious to know how you are. He keeps sending word.”

I’m sure he is.
He probably can’t wait to send me back home with a complaint to Mr.
Peacock about my thieving ways.
“How long have I been in bed?”

“Two days.”

“That long?” Miranda was
never
ill and certainly never lay in bed for two whole days. “I didn’t mean to be a burden.”

“Bless you, miss, we were happy to help.”

The chair Jessie occupied was surrounded by mending and it looked as though Jessie had occupied it for a considerable time.

“How long have you been sitting beside me, Jessie?”

“Ever since you got here, miss. Another girl takes over at night, but the rest of the time it’s been me looking after you.”

Miranda was overwhelmed. “That’s terribly good of you, Jessie. I must have been keeping you from your duties.”

“Not at all. I can sew just as easily here as I can anywhere else.” The door opened and another lady came in. “She’s awake, Mrs. Goodson. I was just about to ring.”

“How do you feel, Miss Cantrell?”

Ah
,
so they already know who I am.
“I feel much better, thank you.”

“I’m Mrs. Goodson, housekeeper here. Are you hungry?”

Why are they being so kind to me?
“Actually, yes.”

“Then I shall have a little light luncheon sent up. Then perhaps a bath?”

“If it’s no trouble.”

Mrs. Goodson smiled. “None whatsoever. Lord Gabriel will be pleased to know that you’re feeling more yourself. You had us quite worried there for a while.”

Coddled eggs and warm bread were sent up, along with a cup of tea and cake. Miranda ate it all, sharing morsels with Tobias.

“You don’t need to worry none about the dog, miss,” Jessie said, tousling his head. “He’s won us all over and has been eating like a king as a consequence.”