Midsummer Eve at Rookery End (14 page)

“Call me Orlo, please,” he purred. “I consider us more than good friends and I hope you do too. Would you like to go for a carriage drive this morning? It’s a beautiful day, although not nearly as beautiful as you are.” He took her hand, kissed it and added in a lowered voice, ‘
Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate’—”

“Yes, yes,
”
interjected Helen hastily. “A carriage drive! I should like that very much.”

A smirk spread across his shapely mouth. “Excellent! I have already been to the stables and arranged to use one of Lord Allingham’s curricles.”

Helen felt aggrieved. Lord Pembroke was arrogant at times and took her consent for granted. She stifled the thought – she must remember her vow.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I’ll go and fetch my shawl. The breeze is a still a little chilly.”

A shadow fell across the terrace flagstones in front of her. She glanced up and found Captain Russell looking down at her. She caught her breath.
Good Heavens
. His gaze seemed to touch her soul. She couldn’t move a muscle.

He nodded and gave a fleeting smile, in response to which her heart gave a curious little leap.

“Good morning, Miss Chesney. I came to ask if you’d care to accompany me on a ride around this estate this morning. Lord Allingham has put his horses at the disposal of his guests and I know you enjoy seeing the countryside in its summer glory.”

Instinctively she longed to accept, but she steeled herself.
Remember your vow.
“I’m sorry, I’m going out in the carriage with Lord Pembroke.”

“Indeed,” said Lord Pembroke, his expression smug as his gaze raked the new arrival. “An especially charming prospect given the company, and a chance to display my driving talent. It puts me in mind of Shakespeare: ‘
I’ll put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes’.”

Captain Russell’s lips tightened. “I’ll take your word for it,” he replied bluntly. “I’m afraid I don’t have a poetic soul.”

“I’m afraid you haven’t,” retorted Orlo Pembroke.

Helen saw a dull flush creep along Captain Russell’s cheekbones. Then he bowed in her direction, turned on his heel and limped away, back along the terrace.

- 5 –

A low voice drifted out of the bushes nearby. “It’s the wrong way, sir! Remember what I said about Lady Annabella. Let Miss Chesney have all she wants of the bard and his poems.”

Simon stopped abruptly. Ralston Thorne emerged from the undergrowth, as dignified and impressive as Poseidon rising from the deep.

Simon eyed him with misgiving. He had asked Helen to go riding as much as an act of defiance against this pesky valet than in the hope anything would come of it. Now the man had appeared out of nowhere to gloat.

“Thorne —” he hissed in a menacing voice.

The valet continued smoothly, “Miss Chesney is going for a drive in the carriage with Lord Pembroke.”

“I know that, damn it!”

“Very unreliable things, these new-fangled carriages. Said as much to Higgs, Lord Allingham’s tiger, as soon as I ‘eard earlier that Lord Pembroke had requested use of ‘is lordship’s racing curricle. ‘Higgs’, I said, ‘curricles like this can throw a wheel miles from anywhere’. ‘Higgs,’ I added, slipping him a guinea, ‘’ow awful it would be if the curricle should throw a wheel miles from anywhere
this morning’
.”

Simon stared, gulped then stammered, “Y-you -bribed Higgs to—”

Thorne looked down his distinguished nose. “Really, sir! You wound me to the core! I gave Higgs a guinea because he’s a poor man and has a wife and family to support.”

“I think I should go and warn Miss Chesney.”

“Warn her?”

“That you have bribed Lord Allingham’s tiger to make the carriage lose a wheel! She might get hurt—”

“There’s no danger of that, sir,” said Thorne shaking his head. “And I don’t advise you seek out Miss Chesney. It’s likely she wouldn’t believe you, or think you wanted to keep her from going because you were jealous.”

“I believe you are an artful rogue!”

The valet gave a wily little smile. “I hope, sir, you will come to look on me as Love’s Thorne.”

Exasperated, Simon went out riding, but by the time he returned his leg was aching again and his mood was bleak. Sorrow and frustration were not good companions.

He changed and went down for lunch. When he found himself seated near Helen and Lord Pestilence away at the other end of table, his spirits revived a little. She was looking pale and he noticed that she hardly touched her food but these observations were brushed aside by the pleasure of being close to her.

“How did you enjoy your drive?” he ventured, smiling.

She looked into his eyes and the remaining colour drained from her cheeks. Simon’s heart jolted as understanding dawned - Thorne’s plan had been carried out and Helen must think he was taunting her, or being sarcastic! He had to explain.

“Wine or ale, sir?”

Simon glanced up. Thorne was assisting in serving lunch. His expression was blank as a mask. There was no light of triumph in his eyes.

“Ale.” Simon cursed under his breath.
Could things get any worse
? He had to try and make amends.

“Helen—”

Lord Pembroke’s smooth tones floated down the table. “We were delayed for some time, but sat on a charming grassy bank at the side of the lane. It was fortunate that I had with me a volume of Shelley, and one of my own newer efforts,
Servitium Amoris
. I had read most of both to Miss Chesney before the tiger announced that the carriage was repaired and we could continue.”

“Helen!” repeated Simon urgently.

She bit her lip. “My apologies, Captain Russell. I-I’m not feeling too well. I have a headache. I think I’ll go for a stroll outside to get some air. Please excuse me.”

She hurried out of the room.

Simon and Thorne watched her leave before exchanging glances, one serene with a hint of mischief and one resentful.

- 6 -

Hours later, shortly before dinner which was being held before the arrival of the remaining guests and the start of the ball, Simon sought refuge in the library. He poured out a glass of burgundy and was considering his options when Lord Allingham came in.

“Simon! Thought I might find you in here.”

“Sorry, Miles. I needed to think.”

Lord Allingham gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t bloody apologise! I told you to treat the place as your own while you are here. Truth is, I’m seeking a few moments of peace too.” He strolled over and poured himself a glass of wine, before studying his friend’s drawn features. “There’s something I need to ask you. Have you seen anything of Miss Chesney?”

“Helen?” He heaved a sigh. “She went for a stroll during lunch – said she needed some fresh air.”

“And you haven’t seen her since?”

Frowning, Simon halted in raising his glass to his lips. “No, why?”

“No one has seen her all afternoon. She’s not in her room and Leonora is getting worried. She thought you might know where she is.”

“But I don’t! Have you tried the conservatory?”

“Yes, and the rest of the house. And the gardens. Absolutely certain she’s not in either place. Can’t say I’m not concerned now too. Seems like she’s gone missing.”

“Good God!” exclaimed Simon, running agitated fingers through his hair.

The door opened and Lady Allingham peeked inside. Her face lit up when she saw her husband.

“Ah, come in, my love!” Miles saluted his wife’s fingertips with a kiss, but his expression sobered as he admitted. “It’s as I suspected – Simon’s not seen Helen since lunch.”

“Oh dear,” murmured Leonora. “But you’ve not heard the worst – Lord Pembroke has vanished too.”

Simon uttered a startled oath and even the calm and collected Lord Allingham seemed ruffled by this revelation.

“Pembroke’s gone as well! That’s strange.” Miles Allingham shook his head solemnly. “Well, I don’t like the man much. I only invited him because Mrs Chesney more or less demanded it. Good riddance to him!”

Her ladyship paced to and fro. “You don’t understand. I feel responsible for Helen in Mrs Chesney’s absence.” She glanced at Simon from under her lashes. “I hope nothing has happened but when two members of our house party disappear at the same time it seems natural to suppose they are together.”

“Together!” repeated Lord Allingham sharply. “But Helen’s not the type of girl to make a fool of herself.”

Simon interposed with a sound of suppressed fury. “Miles, I know you have a hundred or more guests arriving soon, but we have to search—”

There was a scratching at the door and Thorne entered.

When he saw him, Simon’s uneasiness deepened. A suspicion was rapidly forming in his mind, but it seemed outrageous to say the least. Thorne stood there, as dignified and stately as ever and looking the picture of innocence, but Simon grew more convinced with every passing second that Thorne had engineered the whole thing. He didn’t know how – even Thorne couldn’t forcibly abduct two people without drugging them – but without doubt he was behind the mystery.

Thorne addressed Lord Allingham. “Might I ‘ave a word, my lord? It’s about Miss Chesney.”

“Yes?”

“I hunderstand she’s nowhere to be found and everyone is at a loss to account for it. I think I might be able to shed some light on the matter.”

There was a long pause. “I see,” said his lordship, with only a hint of amusement in his voice. “I can’t say I’m entirely surprised. Out with it, Thorne – where is she … I mean, where are they?”

“I think it possible, even probable, that Miss Chesney and Lord Pembroke are on the island in the lake, my lord.”

Simon knew exactly where Thorne was referring to. The ornamental lake was about half a mile from the house and in the centre of it was a small, wooded island.

“And why would you think that, Thorne?” asked Lady Allingham.

“I happened to be rowing on the lake this afternoon, my lady. Lovely weather, it was, and since I’d finished my duties for Captain Russell until this evening, I decided to take some exercise.”

“Exercise!” echoed Simon, incredulous.

Thorne inclined his head, his face studiously blank. “I frequently do, sir. ‘As I was saying, when I happened to be rowing on the lake, I saw a boat tied to a tree on the island. It occurred to me that Miss Chesney and Lord Pembroke might have rowed out there. Lord Pembroke would want to see the island, what with it being a romantic little spot and him being a poet.”

“But where are they now? It doesn’t take all afternoon to explore one small island,” said Lord Allingham.

“It is possible, my lord, that the rope did not hold. Lord Pembroke, being a literary, impetuous type, might not ‘ave tied it well enough.” His serene and innocent gaze swivelled to lock with Simon’s as he added, “Or perhaps someone might have come along and untied it deliberately. Why I cannot say, but I thought it right to let you know.”

Lady Allingham stifled a smile. “Indeed it was, Thorne. Thank you.”

Simon stared at his temporary valet. “Do you know what I’d like to do with you, Thorne?” he said slowly, “I’d like to—”

“If I were you, sir,” said Thorne, in a voice of the deepest respect, “I should ‘urry. Miss Chesney must be in desperate need of rescue.”

Simon gave up. Trying to argue with a man like Ralston Thorne was as pointless as arguing with a block of granite.

He turned to his friend. “Miles, find me a boat – at once.”

Lord Allingham shook his head. “I think it best if I row out to the island instead. Helen’s temper might be uncertain after being stuck on that island all afternoon and we don’t want her connecting you with this incident in any way whatsoever. Leave it to me.”

“But—!”

“He’s right, Simon,” urged Lady Allingham. “Wait in the summerhouse and I’ll make sure you see Helen when she returns.”

Simon was obliged to be satisfied with this. He stalked off down to the summerhouse through the summer twilight, frustrated as hell and ready to murder Thorne or Lord Pestilence, he wasn’t sure which.

He paced back and forth, rubbing his leg occasionally to ease the ache there.

It seemed a very long time before he heard footsteps approaching.

He drew in a ragged breath.

- 7 -

“Simon…Captain Russell?”

Helen stepped into the gloomy interior of the summerhouse. Lady Allingham had assured her Simon would be here, but everything was so still and silent. She was a little out of breath. She’d hurried here straight from the lakeside, not even bothering to get changed first.

He limped forward out of the shadows. “I’m here.”

Long, tense, silent moments followed. They stared at each another before Helen, overwhelmed, hiccupped on a sob and rushed towards him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Oh Simon, I’m so glad to see you!”

She heard him working for breath. Then, he groaned and his arms stole around her, slowly, protectively. “You are?” he whispered, a catch of amazement in his voice.

“Oh yes,
yes
!” Helen pulled back enough to look into his eyes. What she saw there made her heart turn over. He looked different, as if he had somehow been lit up from within. Smiling, she stroked a wayward lock of his hair from his brow and then reached for his hand, bringing it to her face.

He cupped her cheek and rubbed his thumb gently across her lower lip, caressing her with his gaze.

And then the dam burst.

With one flex of his powerful arms, Simon uttered a growl of raw, primal need and pulled her into a stormy kiss. She sighed into his mouth in exquisite surrender, utterly shameless and full of longing. As his kiss deepened, she let her lips fall apart. For all his aloof, stony exterior, he tasted of warmth and comfort and passion.