The Dashing Miss Fairchild (26 page)

"I believe I should enjoy a bit of fresh air as well,'’ announced Richard with a smooth and very swift insertion. He did not wish for Clare to go out for a walk in the park with Lady Millsham, but he also realized she was in no mood to be ordered about by him at the moment.

Clare spoke briefly to Priddy, requesting her green pelisse and parasol, with her prettiest straw bonnet. She also gave orders regarding the removal of Miss Godwin.

"Well enough, Miss Clare,” approved Priddy with a sniff. “She has exalted notions, that one.” With a nod of her head, Priddy stalked up the stairs, returning moments later with the requested pelisse, bonnet, and parasol.

Bennison had sent for a hackney to convey the party to the Sydney Gardens. By the time Clare was ready, the hackney awaited beyond the front door. Clare paused, directing a look at the butler. “Miss Godwin shall be departing once she has packed. Be certain you call her a hackney, and do try to find out where she goes, if you please?"

Bennison exchanged looks with Mr. Talbot, then nodded.

"Miss Godwin is rushing off. I hope that my presence and the baby, especially, have not alienated you.” Lady Millsham bestowed a timid look on Clare.

"Nonsense. She decided to go."

"
After
giving Miss Fairchild the benefit of a most undeserved set-down. That any woman as fine and noble as Miss Fairchild should be accused of the implications Miss Godwin asserted is beyond belief. She has a very petty mind,” Mr. Talbot assured Lady Millsham. He sat across from the two women, admiring the way Clare offered to hold the baby while Lady Millsham adjusted her skirts.

"Let me carry him a bit. You are near worn-out with all you have had to do this past week.” Clare cuddled William in her arms, chuckling at his bubble blowing and arm waving act.

"I vow it is a treat to get to the park,” Lady Millsham said as she peeked through the window at the sight of the trees and lovely gardens.

"I feel certain that this nightmare of yours will soon be over,'’ Mr. Talbot vouched. “The pretender tipped his hand last night. I suspect we shall not have long to wait until he moves again.''

Lady Millsham shuddered, then exited the hackney, holding Mr. Talbot's hand with trembling fingers. “Thank you, kind sir, for all you have done and continue to do for my son and me. Believe that I shall acquaint him with his great debt to you."

Clare strolled along the walk, cooing to the baby. Mr. Talbot walked at one side, while Lady Millsham clung to the other. Richard took care to search the area on either side of their path, occasionally glancing back to see if Timms followed behind them. Good thing that the man had come along.

The trio had reached the pretty bridge that arched over the Kennet and Avon Canal when it happened. Lady Millsham leaned over to point out one of the pretty painted narrow boats when a sharp discharge halted their steps.

"The baby,” cried Lady Millsham in horror.

Red stained the long white shawl that was draped about the infant. Clare clenched her teeth, then said in a strained voice, “I believe you had better take him. He is fine, but my arm is not, and I'd rather not drop him, if you don't mind?"

Lady Millsham hurriedly grabbed the baby. Clare leaned weakly against the bridge, the pretty boat ignored as she sought the figures speeding off along the path behind them.

Richard dashed in the direction of the shot with Timms closing in on the man at the same time from the opposite direction. Fortunately, Timms had espied the suspicious character hanging about. Lamentably, he had not been able to prevent the shot fired at Miss Fairchild.

The man fell to the ground as Richard jumped on him from behind, a particularly satisfying thud, to Richard's ears.

"Let me go, oi did nuffink.” The poorly clad fellow wiggled like an eel in an effort to get free.

"Really?” drawled Richard as he plucked the pistol from the man's pocket. “You neglected to toss this away, I fear. It's off to the magistrate for you. Attempted murder is a felony that will see you hanged."

The gunman blubbered all the way to the hackney Timms had reserved. Once hands were firmly tied, ankles confined, the fellow was in no shape to escape.

"Who hired you?” demanded Richard. “I might make it easier on you if I could know."

"'Twas a gentry cove what done it.” The description that followed fitted the sham earl to the tee.

Timms accepted the instructions regarding the pathetic fellow, then set off toward the nearest magistrate.

When Richard hurried to Clare's side, he apologized for leaving her for even a moment. “I wanted to know if my suspicions were correct. The sham earl hired the man, but why he was to shoot you and not Lady Millsham, I do not know. But then, it was you who carried the baby!"

Clare glanced at Lady Millsham, swallowing with an effort to seem calm. “Perhaps we had best cut short our visit to the park. I fear it was a foolish idea, at least until Lord Millsham is put to flight."

Horrified that her longing for a breath of freedom had brought injury to the dearest lady who had sheltered and helped her, Lady Millsham agreed, urging Clare along the walk to the park entrance.

"How fortunate that no one else was about,” murmured Clare, leaning on Mr. Talbot's arm. She had pulled a handkerchief from her reticule to press against the wound, but the faint red grew deeper as they neared the hackney stand. As soon as Richard noticed it, he muttered imprecations against stubborn women and acted at once.

Ignoring any thought of impropriety, he swung Clare up in his arms, striding to the first hackney in line, tersely ordering the man to take their party to the Royal Crescent at once and as fast as possible.

She found herself enfolded in his arms, held tightly against his chest during the ride. Lady Millsham sat quietly, wide-eyed and fearful for Clare. Even little William remained silent.

"I really am able to sit ... I believe,'’ Clare said in an oddly remote voice. Could it really be hers?

"He shall pay for this,” Richard muttered as he cradled her even closer, if possible.

Bennison gasped when he opened the door. Lady Millsham slipped in and up the stairs to alert Priddy, then made her way to her room as quietly as possible. She intended to return once William was restored to Jenny.

Upon reaching the landing, Richard found his way blocked by none other than the departing Venetia.

"Well, I daresay this is more of her just desserts. If you ask me—not that anyone ever does—she attracts danger."

"Be gone, woman, before I throttle you myself.” Richard glared down at her with his most fierce look.

Venetia took one look at the savage expression on his face, and hurried on her way down the stairs.

"You are rather good at ridding the house of unwanted guests, sir. Tell me, do you hire out for that sort of thing?'’ murmured Clare, leaning against his chest while she might.

"Silence.” He marched down the hall and into her room, where a worried Priddy had efficiently opened the bed and laid out a night rail of sheer white lawn.

He inspected the preparations, then nodded as he set Clare on the bed. “I want to see your wound, my dear. I ordered Timms to fetch my case with the remains of Mrs. Dow's most effective preparation.'’ He shook his head in dismay once Priddy pulled off the pelisse, then bared Clare's arm.

"I believe we are to have matching scars, Mr. Talbot,'’ Clare offered in a faint but determined voice.

His bark of laughter faded as he tended her graze. “Fortunately, this is not as bad as mine, dear girl. We shall have you up and about in no time at all.” He turned as Timms entered with a small black case in hand.

Priddy, seeing that perhaps the nightclothes would not be required after all, slipped from the room, returning with an array of flowers to cheer the wounded.

Her arm neatly bandaged, Clare leaned against the pillow, studying the flowers while trying to decide which ones Richard had sent her.

"Spicy carnations, if you need ask,” he supplied in answer to her unspoken question, that wicked brow tilting to tease her. “They remind me of you.” This sally was ignored.

"Sir Henry sent the others. But who is the third?” She pointed to the folded and sealed note, indicating Richard open it for her. “What a peculiar expression,” she said in puzzlement. “Pray, who placed it there?"

"The Earl of Millsham, my dear. We now have an answer to at least one of our questions. He writes that you exemplify the type of woman who has spurned him one too many times. You are privileged, wealthy, and far too aristocratic, it seems. He also demands you return Lady Millsham and her son to the Hall at once. I gather he has plans for them.” Richard took care she not see the written tirade against deceitful women in general. How thankful he was that he might spare her the sight of it.

"We must ensnare him now that we know for certain ... but how?"

"I recall seeing him in London before he acquired his tide,'’ Clare mused. She slid from her bed and smoothed down her sleeve. Inclined to make light of her injury, she crossed to the door, then moved into the drawing room on the far side of the landing.

Richard followed her, pausing in the hallway to speak to Bennison.

Sinking down on the sofa, Clare studied Richard Talbot. For one thing, it took her mind off her aching arm. For another, she wondered what went on in his mind. For all that he seemed to be easygoing, there was an uncompromising streak in his character. He had been quite decisive when he spoke to Venetia. Clare knew she would not wish to severely cross him, for that glacial stare promised dire threats she had no desire to test.

She thought back to the revelation that had popped into her mind last night. Could it have been but hours ago? It seemed whenever they were together, the time raced past and life proved anything but dull. She slanted a look of mischief at him. “At least I still have my bonnet. I am particularly fond of that one."

"This is nothing to mock,'’ he scolded, giving her the notion he would dearly like to shake her.

"Have you any idea what we must do next?” She sobered at his expression, leaning back against the sofa feeling more pinched than she wished to admit.

Richard grimaced, then rubbed his chin with a hand that for the first time in his memory seemed to be a bit shaky. “I thought he might reveal himself if we offered him a quarry, but I truly never dreamed he would attempt to kill you in the very heart of Bath. Clare, we cannot go on. I'll not have you endangered again. I feel certain Lady Millsham would not wish you ill, and if you think about it, her boy is in greater danger than ever, especially if we venture from the house with him. We dare not take chances again. I shall engage a twenty-four-hour guard on the house."

"Oh, pooh.'’ Clare gave a dismissive wave of her good arm. “We cannot stop now.
I'll
not permit that madman to harm anyone else. But we have not a shred of proof, you know. There is nothing but the admission of that hired assassin with the gun, and no judge would accept his word against the word of a peer. Most likely any trial would last a few minutes at the most."

Bennison entered the room bearing a tray with the requisite tea plus an assortment of cakes and biscuits. Clare poured out the tea, trying not to wince when she moved her arm.

"You are nothing if not tenacious, dear Clare. I insist you put up your feet.'’ He suited his words by raising her feet, then placing several cushions at her back.

"I wish you would not call me ‘dear Clare.’ I believe I have heard quite enough of that for some time to come. Besides, you have no right to be so familiar, sir.” She leaned against the cushions, glad for their support yet unwilling to admit she had need of them.

"That can be remedied."

Frustration seethed within her as Lady Millsham timidly entered the room. The interesting turn in the conversation was cut abruptly short.

Lady Millsham's soft voice cut through Clare's annoyance. “I hope you are feeling more the thing. Priddy assures me that given your hardy constitution, you will be as good as new in a trice."

There was a note of questioning in her voice that Clare felt impelled to assure.

"Oh, I am never downpin for long. I daresay she is right, that I shall resume my disgustingly good state of health in no time at all.” Then seeking to divert the conversation from herself, she went on, “We have been discussing the sham earl. Frankly, my dear, I do not know why we simply do not go to the proper person to assert William's claim to the title. With your marriage lines in hand and little William in your arms, it ought to be an easy matter."

"It would not keep him safe,” Lady Millsham reminded them.

"Well,” Clare said consideringly, “I shan't stoop to murdering the man, no matter how much he deserves it."

"I believe I shall go have another chat with the person we apprehended in the park. Perhaps a short time in custody will have loosened his tongue.'’ Talbot rose, then came to stand over Clare. “I trust I do not need to say anything so obvious as that you need to remain quiet, or perhaps take a nap?"

"Hardly. Although I admit, my curiosity is as high as ever. Return after your ‘chat’ and tell us what you learn."

He left the room with a fierce look on his face that told Clare he was not pleased with her reply. Did he perhaps sense that she would not be dictated to by anyone? Or maybe he resented her demand that he return to them?

"I hope he took my request in good grace,” she murmured to Lady Millsham. “Only, this all seems such a muddle. I'm of a mind to confront the earl. Do you know, I cannot recall what his name was? We always call him the earl, never anything else."

"Basil Kibbler."

"Good grief, that family? They are perennially under the hatches. I seem to recollect his pockets were always to let. My brother knew him, you know. Some of the things Tom said about him are coming back to the. But I cannot say I did more than dance with the man once or twice. In his former position, he was quite beneath my touch."

Clare recalled the words of the note that had come with the flowers, or what Richard had read to her. She wondered precisely how the exact wording had been. “That bothered him, it seemed, being beneath my touch, for I am well to grass. Yet once he became the earl,'’ she threw Lady Millsham a glance of apology, “his station in life changed. He ought to have been acceptable to anyone, particularly since there is a considerable fortune involved."