ToLoveaLady (17 page)

“Your parents –”

“My parents will always have a place for me, but that does not necessarily mean they would welcome my return. As I said before, a twenty-four year old unmarried daughter is a liability, not an asset.”

“If not for me, you would be well married by now. I’m sorry, Cecily. It was unfair of me to ask you to wait.”

She caught her breath, afraid of the next words he might say. As long as he did not formally break the engagement, she had hope, but if he said those words, if he asked for the return of his ring, what could she do but relent? “Let’s not talk of it anymore,” she said breathlessly, and put a hand on his arm. She wondered if he could feel her galloping heartbeat. “Please, there’s no need.”

He gave her a curious look, but nodded. They rode on in silence. She struggled to overcome her panic. She had forestalled disaster this time, but how much longer did she have before Charles decided to force her hand?

They drove through the ranch gates and headed toward the carriage house. As they passed in front of the house, the door burst open and Alice came flying toward them. “Oh, m’lady!” she wailed, hands in the air, hair in disarray as if she’d literally been tearing at it.

Not waiting for Charles, Cecily jumped down from the buggy as soon as it rolled to a stop. “Alice, what is it? What’s wrong?” She grabbed the maid’s shoulders and shook her.

“It’s Nick, m’lady!” Tears poured down Alice’s reddened face. “Oh, it’s just awful.”

“What about Nick?” Charles joined them.

Alice turned to him. “Oh, m’lord, they. . .they’ve arrested him!”

Chapter Ten

Charles and Cecily exchanged questioning looks over the top of the sobbing maid’s head. Charles put a hand on Alice’s shoulder. “Now, Alice, you must calm down enough to tell us what happened, so that we can help Nick. You say he’s been arrested? Who arrested him?”

Alice straightened and raised a sodden handkerchief to her eyes. “The sh. . . sheriff. From Fairweather.” She sniffed. “That same horrid man what arrested Lady Cecily the day we came here.”

Charles glanced at Cecily. “He must have left town as soon as we talked to him.” No doubt, Grady had decided to see what he could spy out while Charles was away.

“But. . . why?” Cecily smoothed Alice’s tangled hair. “What have you, or Nick, ever done to him?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter now.” He addressed Alice once more. “Why did they arrest Nick? What were the charges?”

“They said. . . the sheriff said. . . he stole some cattle.”

Charles tried not to let the women see how much this news alarmed him. Outside of murder, cattle thieving was the most serious crime a person could be charged with in the west. Many a man, and more than one woman, had been hanged for the offense. “What was Nick doing that led the sheriff to believe he’d been stealing cattle?”

Alice shook her head. “I don’t know!
 
He went out riding this morning after you left. Didn’t even stay long enough to say two words to me. Said he wanted to practice.”

“Practice at what?” Cecily asked.

“How am I to know?” Alice wrung her hands. “He was always practicing being a cowboy.”

“And when did the sheriff arrest him?” Charles asked. “How long after he left here?”

“A few hours? He came riding up to the house, leading Nick’s horse with Nick tied to it. He said to tell you when you come back that he’d arrested a cattle thief on your property and he intended holding you responsible.”

So that was the game Grady was playing, was it? Arrest one of the servants to get at Charles. “I think I’d better go have a little talk with the sheriff.”

“I’m coming, too.” Cecily started to climb back in the buggy.

“Me too.” Alice started up after her.

“Just a moment, ladies.” Charles held up his hands to forestall them. “This business concerns Sheriff Grady and myself. I’d best handle it alone.”

Cecily ignored him and settled herself on the wagon seat. “I think we’d better go with you,” she said. “The way you two feel about one another, you’re liable to come to blows. At least with women present, you’d be more likely to have a civil conversation.”

A civil conversation, indeed!
 
He drew himself up, indignant. “Are you saying I don’t know how to conduct myself?”

“I would like nothing better than to see you put Sheriff Grady in his place.” Cecily slid over on the wagon seat and gathered up the reins. “But today is not the day to do it. Today, we need to see Nick freed from jail.”

She smiled as she spoke, but he heard the steel behind her words. Not that he agreed with her, but he didn’t have time to waste arguing. He climbed up beside her and she surrendered the reins. Alice settled in behind them.
 

They said little on the drive back town. Charles pushed the horses as much as he dared, forcing the women to hang onto their seats and endure a rough ride across the prairie. But neither complained. Cecily sat rigid beside him, tight-lipped and determined. Alice sat behind her, sobbing quietly.

The roan gelding Nick usually rode was tied to the rail in front of the sheriff’s office. Charles pulled the buggy in beside it, then helped the women alight.
 

“I would have thought a British Lord would have had more sense than to bring women at a time like this.”

He turned and found Sheriff Grady waiting in the doorway to his office. “Where’s Nick?” Alice cried. “What have you done to him?”

Charles finished securing the horses, then approached Grady. “What’s this I hear about your arresting young Bainbridge? He’s no more of a cattle thief than I am.”

“I’ll remember you said that.” Grady stepped back out of the doorway. “The women can wait outside while you and I talk.”

“We will wait inside, thank you.” Head held high, Cecily swept past him. Alice scurried after her.

Charles entered last, pausing long enough to give Grady a quelling look. “I want to see Bainbridge,” he said.

“What you want and what you’ll get are two different things.” Grady walked over to a massive mahogany desk and sat. A matching mahogany cabinet to his left held ranks of shotguns and rifles behind its locked doors. The fine furnishings stood out against the remaining decor of yellowing wanted posters, an old saddle, and a pot-bellied stove in need of blacking.

The only other item that seemed out of place was a large portrait which hung on the wall behind the desk. A mustached man glowered at them from the gilded frame, arms crossed beneath the silver star pinned to his chest.

 
“I’m the boss of this place, Worthington,” Grady said. “You can’t order me around like one of your servants.” His expression was a poor imitation of that of the man in the portrait, though the family resemblance was evident.

Charles ground his teeth together. Cecily was right – if she and Alice weren’t present, he’d haul Grady out from behind that desk and teach him some manners. For their sake, and Bainbridge’s, he’d have to cultivate patience. “What happened?” he asked.

Grady leaned back in his chair. “Caught your boy red-handed, roping cattle over on the Rocking W.” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what kind of an operation you’re running out your way, but I intend to find out.”

Charles dismissed the implied threat with a wave of his hand. “What does Bainbridge have to say for himself?”

Grady shrugged. “I didn’t care to listen to anything he had to say.”

“I want to talk to him.” Charles tried to keep his voice even, but he could not wholly conceal his contempt for this so-called lawman.
 

Grady shook his head. “Come back later.”

Cecily put a hand on Charles’ arm. “Let’s do as he says. While we’re waiting, we can talk to Mr. Adkins. I’m sure he’ll be very interested in this story for the paper.”

Grady laughed. “You do that. Let everybody know the great Lord Charles Worthington has been harboring a cattle thief on his place.”

Cecily gave him a cool look. “I was referring to the story of how the town’s sheriff is holding a prisoner in solitary confinement, without benefit of counsel, and without allowing him the chance to tell his side of the story.”

Charles would have paid a pretty penny for a photograph of Grady’s face when Cecily let that gem slip. He patted her on the shoulder and said with exaggerated calm. “You’re absolutely right, dear. There’s nothing a newspaper man likes better than to get his teeth into a tale of corruption in high places. The voting public will flock to read the story.”

Grady shot out of his chair and grabbed a ring of keys from a drawer. “All right, you can see him. But not the ladies. Just Worthington.”

For the second time in as many weeks Charles mounted the steps to the cellblock. Nick was waiting at the cell door for them, hands clutching the iron bars. Charles’s hands curled into fists when he saw the footman’s bruised face and bloodied lip.
 

The sheriff shrank back from Charles’ accusing look. “He tried to fight me,” Grady said. “I was in my rights to subdue him”.

Charles shoved past the sheriff and stood at the cell door. “Hello, Nick.”

“Hello, m’lord.” Nick ducked his head. “You’ve come to get me out of here, I hope.” He glanced toward the sheriff. “I’ve tried to explain to him, this is all a terrible mistake.”

“Tell me what happened.”

Bainbridge took a deep breath, then launched into his tale:
 
“Not having any pressing duties this morning, I decided to take a ride, explore more of the ranch. I took my rope with me.” He looked sheepish. “I’ve been trying to learn how to rope, but I need more practice.”

“The sheriff said he saw you roping some Rocking W cattle.”

Nick flushed. “I didn’t pay attention to the brands. I just saw a bunch of cattle and decided to get in some practice. I swear, I never intended to do anything but rope a few and then let them go.” He stared at his feet. “Most of the time, I miss, anyway. But these cows must have been tired or something, because they just stood there and let me throw a loop, easy-like, over their heads.”

“Just the kind of smooth lie I’d expect from you Brits.” Grady came to stand beside them. “My guess is that the two of you are running a rustling operation and relying on your supposed elevated reputation to put off suspicion.”

Charles’s face was a mask of indifference, a look guaranteed to aggravate the sheriff. “Do you make up these fantasies to amuse yourself, sheriff? Or do you plan on beginning a career as a novelist?”

“You won’t be so smug when you’re behind bars yourself.” Grady jabbed a finger at Charles’ chest. “Abbie Waters is on her way over here right now to press charges. She’s been losing a lot of cattle lately. I don’t imagine she’ll take kindly to the news that her neighbor is the thief.”

“I’m not a thief!” Nick protested.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Grady jerked his head toward the stairs. “Back to my office. Now.”

As Charles stepped off the bottom riser, the door to the jail burst open and a young woman dressed in a man’s shirt and trousers burst in. Abbie Waters looked as if she’d ridden hell for leather all the way into town, her hair coming loose from its pins, dust coating her high-heeled boots. She paused in the doorway and stared at Alice and Cecily. “Lady Cecily, what are you doing here?”

“We came to see my footman,” Cecily said.

Abbie looked puzzled. She turned to the Sheriff. “Grady, what’s going on? Luis sent word you’d caught my cattle thief.”

“Caught him red-handed.” Grady put his hands on his hips and nodded to Charles. “One of those Englishman who works for Worthington here.”

“Lord Worthington?” Abbie turned to him, her face flushed. “I. . . I can’t believe it.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t behind the whole thing.” Grady looked smug. “I intend to check every head of cattle at his place and every one on the sales records.”

“Check all you like,” Charles said. “You won’t find anything.” He turned to Abbie. “The sheriff caught Lady Thorndale’s footman, Nick Bainbridge, roping some of your cattle. But the lad had no intention of stealing them. He’s gotten it into his head that he wants to be a cowboy, and he was practicing his roping technique.”

“I remember Nick.” Abbie brightened. “He was keen on being a cowboy. I even showed him a few rope tricks myself.” She turned to Grady. “Did you find any branded hides, or fresh butchering, near where Nick was roping?”

Grady folded his arms across his chest. “I didn’t need that kind of evidence when I caught him red-handed with his rope around your cow.”

“Since when is roping a cow against the law?” She turned away, not bothering to hide her look of disgust. “Let him go, Grady. I don’t intend to press charges.”

Like a shot, Grady was at Abbie’s side. “You can’t be serious. You’ll let him get away with this?”

“Get away with what?” She turned to Charles and Cecily. “I’m sorry you folks had to go to so much trouble. I don’t know what the sheriff was thinking.”

Grady started to reply, but apparently thought better of it. He snatched the keys up off the desk and stormed up the stairs, returning a moment later with Nick in hand.

“Aww, Nick, what did that brute do to you?” Alice fluttered around him like a worried hen.