My Dearest Friend (Books We Love Regency Romance) (9 page)

Eventually Hills was able to persuade her to lie on her truckle bed as she saw the duke was sleeping a deal easier and taking her place at his master’s bedside he promised to wake her at the slightest change.

***

Morning brought a considerable improvement in Robert’s health. He awoke as dawn crept through the garret’s small window and pulled himself upright against his pillows.

    Seeing that his employer was awake, Hills was on the point of waking Jane but in a hushed voice, the duke ordered that she be left undisturbed.

For a long moment, he allowed his eyes to rest on her sleeping countenance, taking in her softened features, his own softening in his contemplation. It was with some reluctance that he returned his attention to Hills who hovered uncertainly by the bed. Running his hand over the dark stubble that covered both cheek and chin he requested soap and razor and was relieved to find his hands steady enough to complete the task of shaving himself with a certain degree of efficiency. Never would he have welcomed the services of his valet more.

As Hills removed the shaving implements, the duke said in the same hushed tones, “It is time to recommence our journey. Have you secured suitable mounts?”

“I have been able to purchase three horses, sir,” Hills replied, “but whether you will think them suitable, I know not, but they are all that is available in the village.” He looked toward Jane’s sleeping form, still somewhat uncertain of the prudence of not waking her as she had directed the previous evening.

The duke spoke with quiet determination. “Then I want you to contact Patterson and tell him that we intend to leave for Elvas today.”

“You have not the strength, sir.”

“I shall have whatever strength is necessary. Do not think to cross me in this.”

Whilst
Hills was below stairs ordering breakfast before seeking out Patterson, Robert threw back the covers to rise, using the back of the chair that stood at the side of the bed as support. He was not prepared for the weakness that threatened to overcome him as he raised himself from the mattress but he forced himself to a standing position. With great effort, he donned his breeches and shirt that been placed over a screen to the right of the bed but as his head still swam with the effort of rising, he deemed it wise not to attempt to try to retrieve his top boots. It would involve reaching under the bed and he was not certain that his head would survive the effort. He was just in the process of drawing on his hose when Jane stirred and caught sight of him sitting on the side of the bed. She gave a cry of surprise and was immediately on her feet.

“Whatever are you doing out of bed?” she demanded hastening to his side.

“As you see, my dear, I am getting dressed,” he replied, continuing with his task. “I have lain abed long enough. Must needs we now go to Harry and the babe.”

“What is the sense of setting out on a journey that will almost certainly spell disaster?” she pleaded. Then as if playing her trump card, “We have no carriage, so how do you intend to proceed? Tell me that!”

“We are more resourceful than that, my girl,” he teased, attempting to lighten her obvious anxiety for his health. “Hills has managed to acquire three mounts, we should be able to reach Elvas by nightfall.” He placed his hands on her shoulders as she stood before him and in a softer voice said, “My kind little nurse, I have thwarted your plans long enough. I shall do well enough, believe me. We now have two goals to achieve and neither will wait.”

Seeing the concern in her eyes, he returned to his heartening manner. “Come now, Jane, don’t be so poor-spirited. All will be well. To use your own turn of phrase, I am as right as a trivet! See, I can even bend to put my boots on.” So saying he leaned forward to retrieve them from beneath the bed whereupon she was instantly on her knees ready to assist.

Pushing him upright, she reached for the boots herself. “It will not do for you to try too much so soon,” she chided. “If you will disregard all sense, at least be prepared to accept assistance.”

“Humph,” was his only reply.

Chapter
Five

Proctor, a tall, well-built man with swarthy features stood eyeing the three animals now tethered outside the small inn. He would not qualify them with the name of horses for none could aspire to that title. The small roan mare fitted with the ladies saddle had been pretty enough in her prime, but through long misuse was now sway-backed and broken winded. The black cob, again quite aged, stood with head almost to the ground, a very dejected sight. It was to the huge grey Portuguese with soup-plate hooves that youth belonged, but the rolling of his eyes in his long head and the unwillingness to have a saddle fitted proclaimed his rawness. Proctor looked to his own bay mount that he had not thought to have been of quality but, in comparison to the trio that stood before him, looked like a thoroughbred fresh out of Tattersals.

Emerging from the inn to commence their journey the duke stood stock still, running his eye over the waiting horses. “This is the best you could do?” he asked curtly, turning to Hills. “Two bone breakers and a Portuguese camel?” He likened the grey to a camel as its long head, large hooves and ill proportioned height immediately brought to mind a drawing he had seen of one such animal.

“I’m afraid they were all that I could find, your grace,” replied Hills dreading the duke’s ire, but the change in his employer’s mood took him completely off guard.

“
Then we shall present a very strange sight, shall we not, Jane?” he said, smiling. Extending his hand he drew her forward from the doorway behind him and retained her cool fingers in his clasp. “Now come, see the humor of the situation. We shall arrive in Elvas, not as Caesar into Alexandria, but as a troupe of nomads fresh from the desert. Let us hope that it will be after dark so that none shall bear witness to it.”

Catching sight of the figure standing to the side of them, he inclined his head slightly in his direction. “Ah,
Proctor, I assume. We are grateful for your guidance. I have no doubt that Sgt. Patterson has informed you of our situation, therefore, when we are mounted, be so good as to lead the way. The countryside is unfamiliar to us and having lost our driver, along with the coach, we are relying on you to act as guide. Is it possible to reach Elvas before nightfall do you think?”

“It should be, your grace,” Proctor replied. “Providing the storms have not brought down the bridge
on the other side of Lavre, or flooded the plains, we should make good time.”

“Then we will away.
Hills if you will help Miss Chandler to mount, I will address my camel.” So saying, Robert approached the grey and swore softly at its attempts to sidle away, cursing the fact that his head had started to throb once more.

Seeing his difficulty,
Proctor immediately sprang forward to help steady the horse, and was rewarded by a curt nod as, wincing noticeably at the exertion, the duke sprang agilely into the saddle. The grey fretted and sidled but, not wishing to be left behind, took off after its companions willingly enough. The duke took some comfort in the fact that its long stride made its gait quite even, thus minimizing the jolting of his head as it pounded relentlessly from the exertion.

Proctor
headed the group with the duke riding alongside Jane, Hills being left to bring up the rear as the cob ambled along. The grey and the little mare seemed to develop a rapport and she had a calming influence on him, the companionship of another horse giving him the confidence he lacked, despite the difference in their size.

Jane sat erect in the saddle, but even so her companion seemed way above her and she had to tip her head back to look at him fully. A procedure that she repeated frequently, checking for telling signs of fatigue on his still drained c
ountenance, which although discolored showed a determination she could not deny.

On one of these occasions she found that she was the object of his scrutiny, but when she asked if ought was amiss he just shook his head and returned to observing the road ahead. He could not have explained his thoughts, even if he had been called upon to do so. Even to himself, he could not clarify their course.

They continued in silence knowing that the effort of conversation would fatigue him even more. The countryside was alien to them and they had no option but to trust in Proctor’s knowledge of the terrain, allowing him to take the lead at all times. Hills, being no horseman, was quite content to follow as he may, allowing the cob to dawdle along at its own pace, but managing to keep the others well within his sights.

The sun rose higher in the sky making of it quite a pleasant day, a fact that would have brought enjoyment to any other outing, but today its benefits were not appreciated. Instead, the companions wished nothing more than to be at the end of their journey.

Although traveling at a reasonably slow rate, and finding it necessary to pause frequently to preserve the elderly horses’ strength, noon found them passing the outskirts of Lavre and well on their way to Vimierio. Proctor assured the duke that they should be able to reach Elvas by late afternoon but the sight that greeted them when reaching the River Raiz belied his words.

Although the torrents that had raged during the storms had subsided, returning the river to normal, the bridge that spanned the wide stretch of its grey waters had been swept away, leaving an impassable gulf. The duke swore impressively and long, choosing the French tongue in deference to his companion and showing a command of the language that no one had suspected.
Jane only able to guess as to his meaning.

However,
Proctor interrupted his flow. “All is not lost, your grace,” he said, bringing his horse alongside the duke’s. “Although it will take us some miles off our course, if we travel north along the banks, I am sure we will find a suitable crossing place. It just means that our journey will take a little longer, perhaps half a day more.”

“How deep are the waters here?” interrupted the duke taking the grey to the edge of the bank and staring into the river below.

Proctor rode to his side and dropping his voice said, “I think you and I could ford here, sir, but not the roan or the cob, they are too small and weak to carry anyone across. They may be obliged to swim and the added burden of a rider would almost certainly finish them.”

“Then you must take Hills up with you,” Robert commanded,
“and I will take Miss Chandler.  Their horses must be led.  We cannot risk any further delay. Enough time has been wasted. We must reach Elvas today. We cannot afford a diversion, it would take us too far off our course.” He turned his horse to face the other two companions and called, “We are to ford the river here. Hills you double up with Proctor and lead your cob, Jane dismount and up with me.”

“That I will not, sir,” she replied mulishly, bringing the little mare forward. “You need all your strength to see to yourself without having to mind me. I will manage quite creditably.”

He scowled and snapped, “Obstinate girl. How else do you propose to cross? Swim I suppose?”

“No, but
Proctor could come back for me once Hills is secured on the other side.”

“Have some sense, why make three journeys across the river when one will suffice. You ride with me, or do I
needs fetch you by force, which I can assure you I have every intention of doing.”

Jane dismounted and led her horse over to his side. Amusement obvious in her voice, she looked up at him and said, “You do not intimidate me, sir. Your temper is not mending with your health, I see. Now don’t give me that thunderous look, I will do as you bid, only have some care to yourself or you will be forced to lie abed again.”

“That I certainly will not,” he replied grinning, his humor regained. “Now, no more nonsense. Give me your hands and step on my boot, I will lift you to sit before me.”

He lifted her easily from the ground and deposited her none too gently onto the
grey’s withers, ordering her to retain the mare’s reins in her clasp.

Cautiously they entered the river.
Proctor took the lead, allowing the cob to follow, the duke doing likewise with the mare. Ever wary that the young grey could take a start at any point and vigilant of her safety, the duke tightly secured his passenger about the waist, pulling her hard against his chest.

As they approached the
center of the river, the waters deepened, reaching well up the grey’s sides, causing the mare to flounder and lose her footing. She plunged momentarily under the waters before emerging again, being forced to swim. She had to hold her head torturously high above the waters in her attempts to gain her breath and Jane knew a moment of panic seeing her little mount in so much distress. “What can we do to help her?” she cried, leaning forward from her perch so that she could see around the duke’s large frame. “We must not let her go or she will be taken down the river, she is not strong.”

“Keep still,” he admonished forcing her upright. “Just keep a firm hold of her bridle, she will be forced to follow and will be able to gain her feet once in the shallows.” He urged the grey forward as best he might, for once thankful of its size and likeness to a camel.