Quiet Meg (29 page)

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Authors: Sherry Lynn Ferguson

BOOK: Quiet Meg
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Today she would rely on the ha-ha’s most illusory width,
for it did not appear much of an obstacle. Yet Paloma had
wisely balked at jumping the completed channel. So too
had mighty Arcturus. Meg intended that Mulmgren’s horse
should balk as well.

But she had to reach the other side without betraying the
means. Meg glanced quickly back over her shoulder as
they sped toward the lakeside turf bridge. Once across it,
instead of heading straight for the house, Meg directed
Paloma to the left, further along the ha-ha. Mulmgren was
still in the woods behind them. If she could position
Paloma before Mulmgren reached open ground and a clear
view, he might be made to believe what Meg wished him to
believe.

She brought Paloma to a sudden halt at the side of the
trough, then carefully and quickly backed her almost to its
edge. On this side, the ha-ha’s wall was nearly vertical, reinforced with stones. Cabot had claimed that a man might
ascend it, but that an animal certainly could not. Paloma
tossed her head, nervous at being brought so close, and
blindly, to the edge of the ha-ha. Meg looked behind her.
She caught a flash of motion where the woods opened to
the lake. Mulmgren was coming. Now he had only to be
convinced that the ha-ha was breachable-that she had in
fact just jumped it.

She applied the crop in a light fashion to Paloma’s flanks, causing the anxious mare to buck in irritation. Meg
gathered the reins and drew her into a forced stumble,
throwing off her balance just enough to simulate recovery
from a landing. Then Meg deliberately set out to make
Mulmgren believe she was not an experienced rider. Let
him think any novice might take that deceptive ditch!

He was advancing apace. Meg glanced back as she kept
Paloma to a slower gait and erratic path toward the house.
At this distance she could see Mulmgren’s dark clothes
and barely distinguish his features. She had assumed that
by now he must at least see the ha-ha, but he kept on. All
the worse for him, she thought grimly, concentrating on
clipping Paloma’s stride. Mulmgren must think his prey attainable, else he might not make the attempt.

In a few more seconds he had certainly seen the barrier,
for another brief glance over her shoulder convinced her
that Mulmgren was urging his horse forward, readying for
a jump. She thought he must have murder on his mind, to
risk coming after her this close to the house. Even as she
thought it she saw Bertie on his faithful Sam coming
around from the road side of the knoll. On seeing them,
Bertie abruptly kicked Sam from a walk to a run. Meg
prayed Mulmgren would not notice her brother’s arrival.

She heard a frantic neigh. Mulmgren’s horse had slid to
a terrified halt at the verge of the ha-ha. As she whirled
Paloma about Meg saw Mulmgren propelled over his
mount’s head-to disappear from sight.

One strange and strangled cry broke from the bottom of
the ha-ha.

She kept Paloma still, heaving from exertion, and waitedcollecting her own breath, watching the spot where Mulmgren had been lost to view. She expected him to rise suddenly
from the ground, phantom-like, brandishing his wicked pistol, but there was only stillness. Mulmgren’s horse pranced
nervously away as Bertie at last drew near.

Meg started to move back toward him, but Bertie held
up his hand, signaling her to stay. He dismounted, stood for
a few seconds at the top of the opposite slope, then slowly
descended below her sight.

For a moment Meg heard nothing. She was once again
conscious of the stifling heat, of her shirtwaist clinging to
her damp back and of the curls falling in disarray about her
shoulders. In the distance, rooks cawed to one another.
Then a pistol shot broke the steamy stillness.

“Bertie!” Meg started forward. She was almost to the
edge when she saw first Bertie’s head, then his shoulders as
he climbed up on her side. Again he held up a hand to keep
her from approaching. As they neared each other, Meg noticed Bertie’s white features.

“You don’t … you don’t want to see ‘im, Meggie. The
way he landed. He could not have lived-that way. Hayden’s
shot nicked him worse than we’d supposed, and his
sword … he’d lost all his .. ” Bertie grimaced and swallowed hard. “I think he meant to kill you, for his pistol was
ready. It’s amazin’ it didn’t fire when he hit the ground, given
the way he was, all twisted” He drew a deep breath and
looked at her apologetically. “I shot him as I would any poor
creature, Meggie. He was … he must have been in agony.”

“Bertie,” she choked out, sliding from the saddle to
stand on shaky legs. She reached out to touch him on the
sleeve. “You are too good. No wonder mother loved you
so ” She moved to hug him tight.

“‘Twill be difficult-telling father,” he said sadly.

“Oh no, Bertie, it needn’t be. Father would have done
the same”

Bertie frowned, as though dubious.

“You’re trembling, Meggie, and cold.” He shrugged out
of his open coat, to drape it loosely about her shoulders.
“Are you … are you certain you are all right, then? He
didn’t harm you?”

“No, I saw him coming, and fled as fast as I could.”

“You should’ve ridden in my direction.”

“I … I didn’t think.”

“Well, we’re free of him now, at any rate. Too bad for
him he tried the ha-ha. Foolish to imagine he could jump
it.” Bertie shook his head. “Go on up to the stables, Meggie, if you please, and ask Nichols to send for the magistrate. And I shall need a hand getting Mulmgren … getting
‘im fixed”

He helped her back up into the saddle and patted
Paloma’s glistening neck. His glance moved beyond her to
the house.

“Well, of all things! Here’s Hayden!”

And indeed the elegant Marquis of Hayden, trailed by
an anxiously puffing groom, was striding rapidly down the
long slope toward them. He had already come a surprising
distance from the house.

Meg trotted Paloma closer. In his left hand Hayden held
a pistol to the ground.

“My lord Hayden,” she said breathlessly, starting to dismount, but he stopped her.

“You must go on up, Miss Meg. I shall help your brother.
Mulmgren is dead?”

Meg nodded.

“You are a superlative horsewoman,” he said, gently
stroking Paloma’s nose. His light gaze held admiration-and
knowledge.

“You … saw?”

“I did.” He actually smiled. “I must apologize, ma’am. I
believed Mulmgren further behind us. I hope you trust that
I would never have placed you in such jeopardy.”

“You’ve come … you have…” She swallowed. “My
lord, what news have you?”

“All is well, Miss Meg. Will you await me above? I must
first see what I might do to lend your brother a hand.”

“Don’t … tell him,” she pleaded quickly.

Again Hayden’s direct gaze met hers warmly.

“As you wish, ma’am. Though I think he might bear it
better than you suppose” He stepped back from Paloma
and made a shallow bow before continuing purposefully
down slope.

As Meg neared the north terrace, Major Trent and the
head groom, Nichols, came tearing around from the stable
yard, mounted on her father’s best hunters. Had Meg not
just seen Hayden she would have been shocked to see his
brother. He intercepted her, smoothly capturing Paloma’s
reins, as Nichols shot on down the lawn to Bertie.

“Allow me to take her around back, Miss Meg,” the major offered. “She has campaigned well today.” His eyes
held a light similar to Hayden’s.

Meg slid from the saddle. Her anxiety was growing.

“He is well? You would not have left him if he
weren’t . . °”

“Chas is very well indeed, Miss Meg. I would not have strayed a foot from him if he hadn’t had strength to enforce
it ” He smiled. “You must rest awhile now, after such an effort. I shall be with you directly.”

Meg relayed Bertie’s request for the magistrate, and
watched the major turn smartly to lead Paloma to the stables.

At once she felt strangely exhausted. Her legs seemed
heavy as she walked across the baking flagstone terrace.
Yet even in the sunlight she was cold. She pulled Bertie’s
coat closer and determined to go immediately upstairs to
change.

In the hall Cabot was leaning against the doorframe to
the rooms he had once occupied.

“Oh… !You are …here ..”

His dark gaze was furious.

“You should have raced up here away from him at once,”
he snapped. “Not risked so much.”

Meg’s chin rose. At once her blood warmed.

“Your cousins did not reproach me. Quite the opposite.”

“My cousins, like boys everywhere, are impressed by
foolish feats of derring-do”

“Derring-do? You dare to say that to me? After you …
After a duel?” She choked on the word. “What was that,
sir, but a `foolish feat of derring-do’? At least I had the
sense-to rely on a trustworthy animal, not the honor of a
scoundrel!”

“I could not know he was that much of a scoundrel.”

“Your cousins knew.”

“They are exceptional.” For a moment tension held them
silent. Then his glance took in her tumbled hair and serviceable breeches and boots.

“I cannot argue with you, ma’am,” he said at last. “Particularly as you appear to have endured your contest better
than I did mine.” As he raised his palms to her, Meg noticed
a cane propped against his left leg. “Will you forgive me?
My ill-humor was an unacceptable way of showing relief.”

“Relief! That is no accurate description of your manner,
sir.”

“‘Twas an admission of feeling, Meg” His gaze now
held hers fixed. “And I do not much care for `sir’.”

At a shout from outside, one of the footmen came rushing past them from the front door and on out the way Meg
had entered. The activity reminded her that for many weeks
the household had been readied for just such an alarum.

“Will you not step in here-out of the hall?” Cabot
coaxed, lowering his hands and grasping his cane. “There
is bound to be traffic, and I should appreciate a minute
alone.” He turned and walked, carefully and relying on the
cane, but without a limp. She had been too angry to acknowledge it, but now her joy in seeing him upright and
mobile asserted itself. She followed him into the parlor,
where all the windows were open to the slightest breeze.
Meg dropped Bertie’s coat into a chair. Her chill had fled.

“You see that I am slow as a tortoise,” Cabot admitted.
He gestured to a table by one window, where four pistols
lay ready. “We could not move out to him quickly enough.
But had he pursued you he’d have met a firing squad.”

“All of you were … waiting for him”

“Yes.

Meg turned to him and sought his arms. He dropped his
cane and held her close against his shirt and open waistcoat. She could feel the thickness of bandages against his left
side. But they did not deter him. He kissed her hair as she
clung to him. When she raised her face he sought her forehead, eyes and cheeks.

“I feared I should see you taken … right before me,” he
murmured against her temple. Then he gathered her even
closer. “If you move,” he breathed against her hair, “I shall
fall.”

“I shall not move-ever.” But she trembled, and he felt
the tremble. He maneuvered her the small distance to stand
next to a sofa, then pulled her with him to collapse against it.

“I warned you,” he whispered, “not to move” And even
as she started to smile he caught her chin with one hand
and raised her face to his. His gaze was so open she had to
lower her own.

“You cannot know,” she began carefully, “Mulmgren
was-so badly injured, that Bertie had to-Bertie-”

“We saw, Meg. And we heard. Any one of the rest of us
would have let the blackguard linger. For hours if need be”

“Bertie is not like that.”

“No,” Cabot agreed. “Your brother is better. But consider, dearest. When you drew Mulmgren to the ha-ha you
knew what you were about.” As she again looked down, he
moved to kiss her hair. “You were so brave, my darling.
And so very foolish!”

“Were you not the same?” she whispered.

He gave her a small smile as he caressed his injured side.

“It is a curiosity,” he said, “that Mulmgren should meet
his end in the saut de loup-the wolf’s leap, Meg. For he
was as close to a wolf as a man can come. And ‘tis a strange
justice as well-that one so cruel to others should die by an act of mercy.” He was still caressing his side. Meg moved to
stay his hand. But his small tug pulled her closer.

“Do you know I once thought to build a moat right
‘round Selbourne-to protect you,” he said.

“But you did protect me.” And this time she stopped his
hand. “You are still not well.”

“I am fine. And I am improving by the minute.” He
turned up her hand, and stripping off her glove, soundly
kissed her palm. Then he wove his fingers with hers. “We
are married, sweet,” he reminded her, noting her fumbling
efforts to pull away.

“That is no excuse”

He laughed.

“You may be as severe upon me as you wish, my dearest
Meg. As long as you permit me … to apologize as sweetly
as you do”

“Stop, please,” she said, ineffectually pushing against
his chest. “We must talk.”

“Have we not talked enough?” he whispered.

“We must think … of father.”

“Just now? Even Sir Eustace would concede it impossible.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“Your father knows we are here. He plans to return to
Selbourne tomorrow. We have his blessing, Meg.”

“Then why did you not send for me?”

“I had no desire to be nursed like an old man-not by my
charming new wife. Since I am not an old man” His close
clasp proved it. “‘Twas trying enough to be tended by
David. What a tyrant he is! I would never have imagined it.”

“He must have lost … many men”

“You are right, of course. And I am obliged to him, for
without his aid I never could have reached you here so
quickly. I insisted we come the moment I could travel. But
now I hope he and Hayden will depart as soon as may be”

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