Sally James (14 page)

Escaping at last at bedtime, Isabella waited impatiently for the rest of the household to retire. She sat by the open window of her room and strained her ears for any sound that might indicate Lord Fordington's arrival, but either he was amazingly cautious or did not intend to arrive yet. A faint gleam of light showed at the tiny uncurtained skylight which gave on to the loft, and Isabella was reminded she needed to take him some extra candles. She had been unable to see Ned since she had taken him the basket of food early in the afternoon, but at that time she had been able to climb up into the loft and reassure herself Ninian was not worse. He had been asleep and his forehead had felt cool, and so she decided to leave him in peace and change the bandages and attend to his wounds when she crept out to visit him that night.

When all had been still for more than a hour she judged it safe and stole down to the kitchen, where she collected all she needed in a large basket and then carefully let herself out of the door. There was a pale sliver of a new moon and a few stars, but they gave very little illumination for Isabella to pick her way across the stableyard. Nothing moved, but the trapdoor to the loft was raised and a faint reflection from Ned's candle showed the outlines of the ladder.

The basket was too awkward for Isabella to carry up the ladder, and so she laid it down and took a jug of hot tea which she had made, climbing cautiously up the ladder with it and fulminating silently at the impossibility of moving quickly while hampered by her clinging skirts.

'Ned,' she whispered softly, and his head appeared in the opening above her.

'Miss Isabella!'

'Is Mr Bembridge awake?'

'Yes, and he's feeling much more the thing.'

'Take this jug and give him some tea. And have some of it yourself. I've other things to bring up.'

'Have you paid duty on it?' Ninian's voice floated down to her and he chuckled. 'My dear angel of mercy. Come and banish the boredom. Ned's a good fellow, but he has neither cards nor dice to entertain me with!'

'I should have thought you'd had enough of gaming,' Isabella could not resist saying, and having passed the jug of tea to Ned began to climb back down the ladder for the other things.

She was almost at the bottom when the basket she had left on the ground beside the ladder was kicked, and the bottle of wine she had placed in it chinked against the glasses. Stifling the cry that rose in her throat Isabella grasped at the rungs of the ladder, but found herself falling, brought up short as she fell against a broad chest. Strong arms swiftly encircled her waist and her fall was arrested.

'Don't scream. It's only me,' a soft voice breathed into her ear.

For a few breathless moments she hung suspended in air, clasped tightly against Lord Fordington, her heart hammering from shock, and his warm breath mingling with her own. His face was a few inches away from hers, and she had the oddest feeling as he laughed softly and set her on her feet that his lips brushed against her cheek.

'I do apologise. I did not intend to startle you.'

'I had no idea anyone was there. You moved so quietly,' Isabella said, still shivering, partly from fright and partly from the sudden startling realisation that she had enjoyed their brief contact and wished it had not ended so soon. Confused by her reactions she did not hear what his next words were, and only realised he was talking to her when he laughed again.

'Well?' he asked, and she could see a gleam where the faint light from the loft above shone in his eyes.

'I do beg your pardon, I did not hear – I am still alarmed.' she replied disjointedly. 'I – I brought some more food for Ninian, and wine – things I could not easily pretend were for a poor villager!'

Hastily bending to retrieve the basket, she prayed that the blush which she was certain covered her whole body would have subsided by the time Lord Fordington could see her, or else be put down to her fright. Coolly Lord Fordington took the basket from her and carried it up the ladder. Thankful he had not suggested giving her assistance, she hastened after him and found Ninian reclining against a heap of straw Ned had arranged behind him, sipping tea appreciatively from a tin mug Ned had filled with the steaming, fragrant brew.

* * * *

'Well, how are you now, cawker?' Lord Fordington demanded of his brother and Ninian, who had been eyeing him warily, relaxed.

'Much better, thanks to Isabella's care and Ned's constant attention,' he replied.

'I came to change the bandages,' Isabella said, moving forward and carefully positioning herself so that her hot cheeks were in shadow.

'I will do it and see how badly the silly chub has been hurt,' Lord Fordington said, and slipped off his elegant dark-blue riding coat. 'Ned, would you be so good as to take some water to my horse. I left him at the bottom of the drive, hidden in the trees.'

'Has Midnight – did he get home?' Ninian asked anxiously as Ned disappeared down the ladder. 'I don't think he was hurt. I just couldn't stay on him, they shot me as I was riding away,' he explained.

'It's lucky for you he is no worse than lame,' Lord Fordington replied grimly. 'I'd have had no mercy on you if he had been ruined, but he should recover with no permanent damage.'

'I hit one of the men. Is he badly hurt? I thought at first I'd killed him but I realised, lying here today, I heard him groaning and cursing, so I don't expect he was too badly wounded. It was plaguy difficult to see anything in the dark!'

'You fortunately do not have to face a charge of murder,' his brother replied shortly. 'Now let me see this arm.'

'Murder!' Ninian blanched, his already pale face losing what colour he had left. 'I did not think – I never meant-'

'No, you never do think before you act! Keep still, or how can I get this bandage off! Have you some water up here? Oh, thank you,' he added as Isabella silently placed a bowl of water beside him and handed him a pad of linen.

She watched him as he gently eased the dried and blood-soaked bandage away from Ninian's skin. Ninian winced occasionally but as the wound was laid bare Isabella was thankful to see it looked clean, and there was no puffy flesh about it.

'You've got us both into a pretty pickle,' Lord Fordington was saying as he worked. 'Hill recognised Midnight for he had seen him when he visited us at the Priory, and then the horse was found less than a mile away. How do you intend to explain that away?'

'Damnation! Oh, Isabella, I beg your pardon. Of all the wretched luck. But I got his dice, Justin. We can prove whether they are loaded!'

'Why could you not have contented yourself with taking those, if you had to indulge in such idiotic tricks? This wound does not look too dangerous. I'll put on some salve and bandage it again.'

Isabella had the salve and clean bandages ready, and silently gave what assistance she could as Lord Fordington worked, talking quietly as he did so.

'I could not let him keep the jewels!' Ninian protested. 'While I had the opportunity I had to retrieve them. He might have sold them.'

'So far as the world cares, until we can prove those dice false he won them from you fairly. How could we, without admitting our guilt, suddenly begin to wear them again when everyone knows, or soon will know, that they have been stolen from Sir Frederick?'

Ninian opened his mouth and then paused. 'I – I didn't think of that,' he admitted, shamefaced.

'It is my main complaint against you, that you do not use what brains you have! There, that should do for now. Let me see the other cut.'

'We could say the jewels were returned by someone – without letting us know?' Ninian suggested hesitantly.

'And this excellent friend further preserved his anonymity by stealing Midnight from carefully locked stables? Of course. Everyone would readily believe that.'

Ninian flushed at his tone. 'I'll think of something,' he muttered, sitting up to permit his brother to unroll the bandages from round his body.

'I suspect it was the desire to return the items you – would it be correct to say "borrowed"? – from me without my knowledge and before I discovered their loss, that caused this folly. Well?'

'Damn it, Justin, what else was I to do?
I had
to have something to pledge. And it is not as though you ever use any of them. I never expected to
lose
them all!'

'And had you succeeded in returning them undetected you would have permitted me to hold them, or wear them – and I do sometimes wear them, Ninian, unsuspecting that they were known as stolen goods? Are you anxious to get me hung as well as yourself?'

Lord Fordington surveyed his brother's wound, carefully bathed it, and rebandaged it in silence. Isabella was so shocked at the disclosure that Ninian had – and she did not attempt to find a softer word for it – stolen his brother's jewels she could think of nothing to say.

'I – I'm sorry, Justin,' Ninian muttered at last, when Lord Fordington had helped him to struggle back into the old shirt of Sir Roderick's Isabella had brought for him.

'We must try to pull you out of this scrape. The only chance is to deny all knowledge of how it happened until we can prove the dice dishonest. And since that would be the only justification, if a poor one, for what you have done, you had best pray that they are false!'

'Then smash them at once!'

'Not so hot. There is the risk then of destroying the proof. I am taking them to someone who can discover what is wrong and break them without shattering them beyond recognition. We still have to make Sir Frederick admit they are his. It would be so easy for him to deny it or claim we had substituted another pair. He has been clever enough not to admit they were taken along with the jewels.'

Ninian dropped his head on his hands. 'I've made a real mull of it!' he exclaimed.

'Not totally beyond rescue,' Lord Fordington replied with a faint grin. 'You just do not think. A fault of youth, quoth greybeard. Don't fret, Ninian, I'd most likely have done the same at your age!'

'Except you would never have gambled in the first place!'

Lord Fordington laughed. 'I'm no saint. I've dropped far too much blunt in my time, but I've always been able to stop while I've still had some left on the table. That's what I want you to learn to do.'

'I'll never touch another card or dice again!' Ninian vowed suddenly. 'I never win, in any event,' he added, spoiling the effect.

'Youth – from one extreme to another in the space of a pistol shot! Talking of youth's follies, by the way, have you made that child Lydia any promises?'

Ninian gazed at his brother, and Isabella almost laughed at his open-mouthed astonishment at the sudden change of subject.

'No!' he gulped after a moment. 'Lydia Westerson? Why – I hardly know her! No! Who says I have?'

'No one says it to me, but I have the impression half of Sussex seems to be waiting for you to make her an offer. I suggest you are less particular in your attentions if you do not wish to raise unjustified expectations.'

'Well, I like that! When
all
of Sussex is waiting for
you
to offer for Georgiana Sharman!' Ninian retorted spiritedly. Isabella glanced at Lord Fordington through her lowered lashes. He was eyeing his brother sardonically.

'In the first place I have not singled any young female out as you have, and in the second, when I do make an offer I am in a position to maintain a wife. You are not. I'd have no objection to such a match – although I might pity the girl left in your tender care – if I thought it would steady you, but I do not think that, therefore in kindness to a young, defenceless female I must ask you to cease rousing hopes which you do not intend to fulfil. One of the first lessons to be learned by a gentleman is to flirt only with those who will understand, and not be hurt by taking it seriously.'

Ninian sighed, a rebellious look in his eyes.

'Have you any more advice?' he asked pettishly.

'That will do to be going on with,' Lord Fordington said, grinning and ruffling Ninian's hair. 'If I discover any more peccadillos before tomorrow night I'll let you know then. Have you thanked Miss Clinton, by the way, for coming to your rescue?'

'I've had no chance with you bearjawing me ever since you arrived!' Ninian responded, a reluctant grin appearing on his face. 'Oh, Justin, I'm sorry. It's been so hellishly boring since I sold out. Isabella, I am so very grateful. I'd have bled to death, from what Ned tells me, if you hadn't bound me up. I'll be gone from here in the morning if Justin will bring me a horse.'

'No, you will not. I'll come back tomorrow night and we'll see how you are and discuss what is to be done then. I've certain plans, but I need time to organise them if we are to hide this prank from the world. Here, I brought some laudanum to help you sleep.'

'Justin!' Ninian exclaimed in disgust.

'You would not sleep without it, having been asleep all day, and neither Ned nor I can keep you company. Besides, you'd lose your bandages to Ned if you inveigled him into a game of cards, and that would never do!'

Ninian gave a reluctant chuckle.

'Very well, I suppose you are right, and we daren't keep a candle alight all night. But what shall I do all day tomorrow?'

'I've brought you a book, you can improve your mind! Oh, Ned, there you are, is all well?'

Ned nodded as he came back into the loft.

'Aye, my lord. The horse is so well hidden I had difficulty in finding him.'

'I must go now, but I've brought this so that my brother will not keep you awake all night again.'

He took a small bottle from his pocket and gave a dose of laudanum to Ninian, then stood up to put on his coat. With a swift smile at his brother and a word of thanks to Ned he scrambled through the trapdoor and down the ladder. Isabella, following more slowly, found an arm about her waist to guide her down the last few rungs. Her heart beating loudly she stepped to the ground and then stiffened. Footsteps were coming across the yard, loud, hasty footsteps belonging to someone who apparently found no need for concealment.

Chapter Eight