The Countess Intrigue (14 page)

* * *

“
E
lizabeth
? Elizabeth! Answer me, Elizabeth,” he had started yelling as he had caught sight of the gig. No one had even told him that the countess had left until it was too late for him to accompany her. He had no one to blame but himself, he had thought to himself as he had paced the house nervously awaiting her return. He had never told her not to go anywhere unaccompanied. He supposed it was one of the most appealing things about being a married lady, not needing to be chaperoned at all times. He tried not to be angry with her for taking advantage. He should have told her she wasn’t to leave the estate without an escort.

Now all those thoughts were flung from his mind as he ran toward the gig his wife had taken to the village. As he got close he could hear a soft whimper. Looking down onto the floor of the gig he saw her huddled in a heap.

“Elizabeth, my dear lady, can you speak?”

He had to bite back an oath as she raised her pale, tear stained face to his. “It’s my arm, not my mouth which is injured, my lord,” she replied with a weak attempt at humour before her eyes widened and her face became rather blank.

“Does it hurt terribly?” he asked, trying to keep her talking, as he made an effort to get her out of the gig.

“It does, rather. Did you see him?”

“See who?”

“The man who shot me,” she explained with what sounded like aggravated patience.

“You were shot?” he gasped, grabbing her from the floor of the gig. He had thought she had merely been spooked by something and had her arm wrenched when the horse took off.

He quickly carried her to the house yelling for the housekeeper to meet him in the countess’ room and demanding that the doctor be summoned.

“I don’t think you’ll be able to find the doctor at his house, my lord,” Elizabeth said. “He is attending Mrs. Baxter’s birthing this afternoon. You really ought not to disturb him anyway. I believe it is just a scratch. Surely Mrs. Patrick and Pansy can look after me. Do you suppose you could go looking for the man who shot at me?”

Justice marvelled at her calm acceptance of the situation. He suspected she might be in shock. With his wife still in his arms, he tried not to crush her but he wanted to hold her forever and keep all threats away from her. Glancing over his shoulder he saw Mr. Patrick watching, worry made the older man wring his hands.

“Mr. Patrick, please have the grooms and footmen ride out and search the area. Have them question anyone they come across that seems to be a stranger.”

He could see that the shock was fading from her eyes but she was still regarding him with accusation. “Why would you only question the strangers, my lord?”

“I cannot imagine that a friend would have done this,” Justice explained.

“Who is there to say who our friends are?” she countered with a bite in her tone.

Justice didn’t understand why she was sounding so cryptic but he was more concerned about her injury and the threat against her. He could not bear to lose another wife; he had just gotten this one.

“Did you manage to get a look at your attacker? What did he look like?”

“I saw him, or I assume it was a man. He had his face covered with a cloth so I can’t tell you anything about him. He was riding a brown horse.” Justice could see her eyes fill with tears and he bit back more curses.

He placed her gingerly on the bed. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Justice couldn’t blame her for the accusatory looks she had been giving him. It really was his fault and she had no idea. Being in her presence consumed him with guilt. He left her in the capable hands of the housekeeper and her maid while he left to run down her attacker.

* * *

E
lizabeth was relieved
when the earl finally left. He seemed so concerned about her. She didn’t know what to think. What good would it do him to get rid of another wife when she had not even borne him an heir? From what she understood Lord Sinclair was a wealthy man, and she didn’t really think her dowry was all that spectacular. She doubted he would be trying to kill her to keep his hands on her money without the inconvenience of a wife. She was leaning more towards thinking it might be someone who considered her a rival. But why had the earl looked so stricken with guilt when he had realized she had been shot?

Mrs. Patrick and Pansy had trouble remaining calm enough to help her out of her gown and see to her wound. As she had suspected it wasn’t a very deep cut, the bullet had merely grazed her. But it was bleeding profusely and there was always the risk of infection. It made her laugh that she had to calm them down in order for them to be able to help her.

Pansy was so frantic about her mistress she was ready to pack their bags and head to Elizabeth’s parents’ estate within the hour. Mrs. Patrick was too worked up to fully comprehend what Pansy was implying but Elizabeth understood and needed to broker peace amongst her staff.

“Mrs. Patrick, Pansy, I know you are worried and frightened. But so am I and I really need to get out of this gown.”

This brought them up short and moved them to action. Within a few short minutes Elizabeth was out of her gown, cleaned, bandaged, into a night rail, and was gingerly climbing into her comfortable bed. Her mind did not at all feel ready to sleep but her eyes were unable to stay open.

Pansy refused to leave her side, sitting on a chair by her bed. At one point during the evening Mrs. Patrick came in with a bowl of soup the cook had prepared especially for their mistress. Pansy insisted the housekeeper had to taste some first while she watched her with a gimlet eye. Elizabeth had awoken during this exchange and had to struggle to quell her reaction. Mrs. Patrick had huffed with dismay but had done as Pansy had requested before turning on her heel and stomping from the room.

As soon as the housekeeper was out of the room, Elizabeth struggled to sit up in the bed. Pansy cried out for her to stop, quickly put down the soup and rushed over to assist her. Elizabeth had to laugh over her ministrations.

“Pansy, I truly appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I really don’t think it is as serious as you are letting on. It seemed to me to be little more than a scratch.”

“Oh no, my lady, there was so much blood and the doctor hasn’t even been by to look at it. You really need to be careful with yourself.”

Elizabeth couldn’t be bothered to argue with her about that as her arm really did hurt. It was beginning to feel as though it had been burned. She earnestly hoped there was no infection setting in. She remembered what had woken her up. “Pansy, might I ask why you had Mrs. Patrick taste my soup? I don’t mind sharing but that was a trifle strange.”

“M’lady,” Pansy began as though explaining a simple thing to a child, “someone has just tried to kill you. I do not intend to allow anyone near you until we have gotten to the bottom of things.”

Elizabeth felt waves of heat and cold rippling over her. Hot with gratification over the loyalty of her personal servant. Cold with dread over the validity of her words. Someone had tried to kill her that afternoon. Mayhap Pansy was right and they should pack it in and go home. Her mother had not thought the potential threat was enough to keep her from marrying the earl, but now that it was a reality maybe she would be a little more accommodating.

The soup was warm and soothing. Within moments she was feeling ready to sleep some more. She was settling down into the warm covers when there was a soft knock on the door. Pansy went to see who it was.

Elizabeth was just drifting off to sleep when Pansy came back to her bedside.

“The earl wishes you a speedy recovery,” Pansy said in a low, sarcastic voice.

“Did he not wish to come in?” Elizabeth was puzzled.

“Well of course he did, m’lady, but I am not letting him anywhere near you while you are in a weakened state.”

Pansy was fierce in her determination and Elizabeth felt tears prickle at the back of her throat. “I do not see how we can avoid the man forever.”

“Not forever, m’lady, but at least until you have rested. I told him you were asleep and he said he was going to have a footman at your door around the clock to run and fetch anything you might need. I think the man is trying to keep you a prisoner.”

Elizabeth felt a flutter of fear but strove for reason. “Or perhaps he is trying to guard us, to keep us safe.”

Pansy merely grunted softly, not wanting to disagree with her mistress openly but obviously unwilling to agree. “Well you can be sure I won’t be leaving your side all night.”

“Oh Pansy, you shan’t be any use to me on the morrow if you are falling down with your own fatigue.”

The maid refused to be persuaded. Finally Elizabeth convinced her to share her bed. “It will actually be a comfort to me, Pansy. It will feel like when I was a little girl and climbed into bed with one of my sisters if ever I was frightened or wanting to chat. If it makes you feel any better, you can take the outside.”

That seemed to mollify Pansy who was determined to guard her mistress from whatever malevolent creature was out to get her. Within moments both girls were fast asleep.

It was late at night when the doctor finally turned up to examine Elizabeth. She was groggy with sleep and reluctant to have her wound disturbed but the kindly, gentle man insisted in a most reasonable way that she really must allow him to look at it. He fussed over her for a few moments but then declared that the servants had done an excellent job of looking after her.

“It seems like your wound is clean and should heal quite nicely although I am sorry to tell you that there is likely to be a scar, my lady.”

“It shall be an exciting story to tell my grandchildren,” she tried to maintain a brave face.

The doctor left her to rest after giving instructions that she remain in bed the following day and drink plenty of liquids.

“And he’ll probably bill the earl quite a tidy sum for that piece of instruction,” Pansy scoffed after the doctor had left.

Elizabeth couldn’t help a weak giggle. “Are you not reassured, though, Pansy? I know I am. I knew you had done your level best, but just knowing that a doctor has seen to it makes me feel slightly better.”

Pansy was in no mood to agree to any such thing, merely tucking the covers around her mistress after helping her to sip some more tea that she had brewed herself over the fire in the room. She was refusing to take any chances with the servants at Heath.

The two girls slept the rest of the night undisturbed.

* * *

“
H
ow is she
, doctor?” the earl asked anxiously as he hovered just outside his wife’s room. He hadn’t wanted to disturb the countess while she was resting and thought it might embarrass her to have him present while she was being examined. And if he wasn’t mistaken her maid didn’t want to let him enter anyway. According to the housekeeper, the countess’ maid thought everyone in the household was to blame for her mistress’ wound. He really couldn’t fault her. He felt as though it was his household’s fault too. Here was a second Countess of Heath nearing death in such a short time. Perhaps he should have remained single and allowed his line to die out. The estate could pass to a distant cousin or be absorbed by the crown. It would make no difference to him if he were to be condemned to a lonely existence. He felt like a worried old woman as he tried not to wring his hands while he waited for the doctor’s verdict.

“Your wife is young and healthy, my lord. There is no reason why she shouldn’t make a full recovery. It wasn’t an overly serious injury. I know Mrs. Patrick and her ladyship’s maid both report that there was a great deal of blood, but that is actually a good thing in this case. It kept the wound clean. And now it has been properly bandaged and it should heal very nicely.” The doctor paused and regarded the earl solemnly. “Your wife will be very tired for a few days after losing that much blood. She should be kept quiet and unexcited. Have you discovered what happened?”

Justice felt his frustration rise at the doctor’s question. “No,” he almost growled. “Lady Elizabeth says she was shot. And a few others reported hearing what they think might have been a gunshot. But her ladyship did not get a good look at her assailant, and no one else has seen anyone out of the ordinary. I cannot believe one of my neighbours or servants has shot at my wife.” Justice felt on the verge of despair.