Читать книгу A Lady's Guide to Mischief and Murder - Dianne Freeman - Страница 11

Chapter 4

Fiona and I covered the remaining yards to where the men gathered around the downed man. One of the estate men, a very young man indeed, assisted George in turning him onto his back. Just as we reached them, the man on the ground howled with pain. I cringed, but at least the cry meant he was alive.

“What happened?”

George steadied the downed man, while his younger assistant wiped the man’s head and face with a cloth, looking for signs of a head injury, I assumed. As he was currently covered in dirt, grime, and a jaw full of whiskers, it was impossible to tell if there was also blood.

“None of us were here to see,” George said. “But it appears the horse threw him.” He turned his gaze to the man’s leg, twisted in a frighteningly unnatural position. I winced at the thought of his pain. “And it further appears he’s been injured.”

George turned to the young man assisting him. “You work with Gibbs, don’t you?”

The man bobbed his head, and I recognized him from the train station, helping to organize the servants and bags. “Yes, sir. John Winnie. I’m Mr. Gibbs’s assistant.”

“Well, Winnie, go check the stables and see if you can find us some sort of litter. Gibbs won’t be walking on that leg anytime soon.”

“And have someone fetch the doctor as well,” Fiona called to Mr. Winnie’s retreating back. “He’ll need medical attention.”

George instructed the other man to go with Mr. Winnie and return Gibbs’s horse to the stables. Mr. Gibbs was awake and taking in his surroundings. Aside from a few scratches, and the obviously broken leg, he seemed otherwise intact. He let out a groan.

“Don’t try to move,” George said.

“Can you tell us what happened, old man?” Leo asked. “Did you take a fall?”

Gibbs released a growl. At first, I thought it was due to his pain, but apparently, anger had taken over. “Haven’t taken a fall since I was in short pants. This was no fall. We ran into something in the road. Felt it hit me in the chest just before I went down. Yanked back on the reins. Lucky this beast didn’t stomp all over me.”

“Lucky indeed,” I said. “What a terrible accident.”

“No accident.” The man tried to turn my way, then grimaced in pain with the movement.

“Lie still,” George instructed. “You don’t want to move your leg until the doctor has seen to it and set the bone.”

The man lay back on the path with a grumble. “No accident,” he muttered.

Leo made his way to my side, leading the gray horse behind him.

“He must have run into a low branch,” he said. The path looked as though it had been in use for hundreds of years. It was quite spacious and surrounded by trees that appeared very grand and very ancient. I saw no sign of any low-hanging branches, but perhaps this was not the time to point that out.

I jumped as the horse nudged my arm with his nose. “Have you been riding, Leo?”

“No, I was just on my way, when we heard the caterwauling. I rode out this far to see what had happened.”

When I looked up the path behind him, I couldn’t see the stables, but I knew they were just around a turning. “You didn’t get very far, did you? Everything seems to be in hand here if you still wish to ride.”

He gave me a grin. “I believe I shall. I don’t often have a chance for a good run.” He mounted the gray and cast a cautious glance at the steward. “If you’re certain I can’t be of any use here?”

I waved him on. “The men are returning with a litter now. Go while you still have good light.”

As Leo rode off, John Winnie pulled the litter up beside the injured steward and George bent to help lift him. The men decided the steward’s cottage was the closest building and arranged to transport him there. As they seemed to have everything under control, Fiona and I made our way back to the house so we could direct the doctor to the patient upon his arrival.

* * *

What remained of the afternoon skittered by quickly. I spoke to Lily about the arrangements I’d made with the vicar, broke up an argument between two of Leo’s sisters, and changed out of my dusty clothes into something more suitable for dinner, a new aubergine silk with a lace ruffle on the left side running from my shoulder and curving around to meet the short train. By the time Bridget finished my hair, dinner was only an hour away, the gentlemen had returned from the shoot, and I happily chatted with Lottie in the drawing room.

We’d barely finished discussing her wedding when Charles interrupted our little tête-à-tête. “Cousin Frances,” he said, seating himself beside his new bride, “I’m delighted you and your family were able to join our little group after all. Hazelton said you’d try to put him off, but he was determined. He does tend to get what he wants, don’t you think?”

I parted my lips to answer, but he continued.

“But you definitely have a mind of your own, and if you chose not to come, I was certain you’d stand firm. Still, I didn’t know which of you would be victorious.”

Lottie attempted to stop his loquacious explanation with a jab of her elbow. Unfortunately, she held her teacup in that hand, and as Charles leaned forward, she jabbed only the sofa, sloshing the liquid onto her skirt.

I smiled in contentment. It was comforting to see some things never changed. “Were you successful in the field today, Charles?”

“Yes, indeed.” He grinned, revealing two lovely dimples. Charles was more than ten years Lottie’s senior. Though the aforementioned dimples and his thick blond hair, coupled with his boyish charm and energy belied his age, this difference was a fact that troubled me when it first became apparent his interest in her was of a romantic nature. Fortunately, my concern was for naught. He and Lottie seemed perfectly happy with one another.

Lottie dabbed at her skirt with her napkin and sighed. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take this to my maid right away, before the stain sets.”

The dark spot had grown across her skirt. “I’m sure she’ll be able to set it to rights,” I said “At least I hope so. That color is perfect on you.” Indeed, the soft pink brought out the auburn in her hair and emphasized her brown eyes as well.

Charles rose and offered her his hand. “I shall go up with you. Not long before the first gong, so I should change for dinner as well.”

“Did you happen to see Mr. Hazelton on your way in, Charles?”

“He was headed to the earl’s offices not twenty minutes ago.”

I watched the two leave the room and rose to my own feet. I’d taken Fiona’s words to heart about discussing my concerns with George. A house party was not likely to allow for much privacy, so if he was alone in his office, now would be the best time to approach him.

Fiona was right. I didn’t want to give George the impression I had second thoughts about marrying him. I slowed my steps as I reached the doorway. In a manner of speaking, I did have second thoughts, but it was due to my previous experience of marriage and nothing to do with George or my love for him.

But how on earth could I introduce the subject?

I pushed myself past the doorway, through the hall, and down to the lower gallery. The house was massive, but if I remembered correctly, the offices were in the north wing, toward the back of the house. With every step, I became a little less determined to have this conversation. What if he did believe a wife should stay in the background, and I could no longer play a role in his investigations?

The office loomed ahead of me, the door closed. I gave myself a mental shake. Better to know now.

I knocked.

Leo opened the door.

Leo? Bother. Apparently, there was a meeting taking place. Leo waved away my protests and gestured me inside the room where I found not only George, but Fiona’s husband, Sir Robert Nash, Arthur Durant, Mr. Treadwell, and John Winnie. Nash and George were seated in deeply cushioned chairs, Durant and Treadwell leaned against a large mahogany desk, and Winnie stood at attention beside it.

“Forgive the interruption, gentlemen. I only wished to speak to Mr. Hazelton, and I can do so at another time.”

“No reason to leave, Lady Harleigh.” George stood and, taking my hand, led me over to his vacated chair. “I daresay you wish to know how Mr. Gibbs is faring.”

“Of course.” In truth, I’d forgotten all about the steward and his accident. Leave it to George to assume the best of me. “His leg looked quite mangled,” I said, attempting to sit on the edge of a chair that seemed bent on swallowing me into its depths. “Is it broken? Is he in much pain?”

“Even worse when the doctor set the bone,” Nash said, making a twisting motion with his hands. “He’s going to have a slow recovery, I’m afraid.”

George placed a hand on the back of my chair. “He has a sister in the village. The vicar came by with a wagon to transport him to her cottage. The doctor dosed him with laudanum for the trip, and we cushioned him as much as possible, but I suspect as soon as the drug wears off, he’ll be in some significant pain.” George grimaced. “But he’ll be better off there where he’ll have someone looking after him. He’d never be able to manage on his own.”

“I’m pleased to hear he has someone to care for him,” I said. “But how will you get on without him?”

He nodded at John Winnie. “This young lad has been assisting Gibbs for the past month and seems willing to step in.”

Mr. Winnie couldn’t be more than twenty. His light brown hair, oiled, combed back, and cut just above his collar was clearly an attempt to look older, but his lanky form and the sparse patches of whiskers on his cheeks and chin proved him to be quite a young lad indeed.

“Gibbs says he’s capable and a quick learner,” George said. “Between the two of us, I think we’ll keep the estate running.”

“And keep the shoot going,” Nash added. “Don’t forget the shoot.”

The newly promoted steward had been staring at George and seemed to pull himself from a trance, before tipping his head at an older man I hadn’t noticed before, standing off in the corner. “The shoot is in the hands of your very capable gamekeeper, sir. I don’t presume to have those skills.”

In an elegant motion George stood and gestured toward the man, who took a reluctant step forward as if he’d prefer to remain in the shadows. “Never fear, Nash,” George said. “Winnie is right. My brother is fortunate enough to have the best gamekeeper in the county in his employ. Tuttle here will ensure the shoot proceeds without a hitch.”

“Aye, you’ll have woodcock, grouse, and partridges aplenty, don’t you worry.”

“You’ll just have to worry about your aim,” George said with a grin.

“It sounds as though all will be fine,” I said. “Mr. Gibbs has a home to recover in, Mr. Winnie will take over his responsibilities, the shoot will proceed, and by week’s end, Mr. Kendrick will be a married man.”

Leo blinked in surprise before excitement lit his eyes. “Then I take it we have a date. I say that calls for a toast, don’t you think?”

“Indeed, I do,” George said amid a round of huzzahs. “Durant, will you see what my brother has in that cabinet?”

Durant and Treadwell both pushed off the desk and stepped around it to open a glass-fronted cabinet. “Looks like sherry,” Durant said as he set about pulling glasses from the cabinet.

George shrugged. “I suppose it will have to do.”

Durant poured rather generous portions while Treadwell and Winnie passed the glasses of sherry around, including one for me, which Treadwell handed off with a flourish.

“To Lily and Leo,” George said, giving me a wink. “May they have many happy years.”

“Remember, one’s wife is always right,” Nash added.

Everyone laughed and drank.

Nash drained his glass and made a noise of distaste. “We’ll have to do that again with a good whiskey, don’t you think?”

“Before the week is out, there will be plenty of opportunities,” Leo said.

The dinner gong sounded in the distance, reminding us all of the hour. George glanced around the room. “I believe we’ve settled everything, so I’m for dinner. Tuttle, we’ll see you in the morning, ready to shoot. Winnie, if you find it easier to take up residence in Gibbs’s cottage have his belongings stored for now.”

The young man acknowledged this with a glazed blink, and I wondered if he would soon come to idolize George. He and Tuttle returned their glasses to a tray on the desk. The gentlemen came to their feet and made as if to leave. Leo stood next to me, and I noted he hadn’t taken so much as a sip from his glass.

“You won’t drink to your own happiness, Leo?” I asked him.

“Never could stand sherry.” He curled his lip in disgust as he set the glass on the tray. “That’s not bad luck, is it—not drinking a toast to my wedding?”

He reached out to retrieve the sherry, but I stilled his hand with a touch of my own. “I’m certain it will have no effect on your happiness.”

George stepped up as everyone departed. “Was there something in particular you wanted, Frances? I need to dress for dinner, but if it’s urgent, I’ll risk being late.”

I leapt at the chance to forgo our discussion. Indeed, he had so much on his plate at the moment, I hated to burden him further. “No, I’d just wanted to check on the status of Mr. Gibbs, that’s all.”

He raised a brow. “That’s all?”

“And of course, I missed you.” It surprised me how much truth the statement held.

George tucked my hand in the crook of his arm. “Then walk me to the stairs?”

I happily complied. “Do you think Mr. Gibbs will be distressed when he hears Mr. Winnie has taken over his lodgings?”

We slowed our steps as we reached a stairway I hadn’t noticed earlier. “This is the back way to the bachelors’ wing,” George said. “Closer to my end of the hall. As for Gibbs, I hadn’t thought of that. The steward’s office and living quarters are both housed in the cottage. I just thought it would be easier for Winnie to move his belongings since he’d be working there anyway. Gibbs will be away for a month or more after all.”

“As long as that? Do you find Mr. Winnie up to the task?”

“More so than anyone else, I’d say. With Gibbs nearby we can always consult him if we run into any problems. My brother and his steward have the estate running like clockwork however, so it should just be a matter of keeping the gears turning. I don’t anticipate any trouble.”

“But there will be trouble if you are late for dinner. Go up and change. I’ll meet you in the drawing room.”

* * *

Everyone but George and Leo had already gathered in the drawing room by the time I found my way back to the south wing. The double doors from the hall stood wide open as did the doors to the south terrace. The final rays of the sun cut across the patterned carpet on the diagonal, leaving one side awash in a yellowish glow while the other remained a deep red. Arthur and Eliza Durant stood together right on the dividing line and the light cut across them as well. Eliza’s left arm and shoulder shimmered in silver while the rest of her gown turned a dark gray. Half of Arthur’s face appeared warm and inviting, while the other half looked shadowed and cold.

I shook off the strange observation and ventured inside the room, one of the most elaborate, and large, I’d seen outside a royal palace. The paneled walls were a warm ivory with the detailed plasterwork surrounding the high ceiling tipped in gold leaf. The portraits of Hazelton ancestors lined the walls, fitted right into the panels with frames built around them. The furnishings were a mix of Jacobean and Restoration, old and beautifully maintained.

Fiona met me at the door and drew me toward the empty side of the room. “Were you able to locate my brother?” She slipped her gloved arm through mine, leaving us close enough for discreet confidences.

“I did find him, but he was not alone.”

She let out a tsk.

“He was in conference with two of his staff, Kendrick, Durant, Treadwell, and Nash, discussing plans for their hunt and a replacement for Mr. Gibbs.”

I gritted my teeth as I remembered the poor man’s condition. “His leg is indeed broken, and he’ll require quite a bit of time to heal properly.”

“That’s unfortunate,” she replied absently. I couldn’t tell if she referred to the steward’s situation or the fact that I hadn’t been able to speak with George privately.

We wandered to a sofa, and she pulled me down near her side. “Tell me about Mr. Kendrick’s sisters,” she whispered. “Are they always so disagreeable?”

“Only when they are together, I think, or away from the supervision of their parents. Otherwise, they are quite pleasant.”

“So, if the rest of us are to enjoy ourselves, we must attempt to keep them apart. Is that it? Send one on a mission to find bluebells in the woods, lock another in the attic, that sort of thing? That could be entertaining.”

“I believe you can find a better source of amusement than tormenting Leo’s sisters, but you do make a good point. Perhaps we should each take charge of one sister.”

“That still leaves one remaining.”

“What is she to do, argue with herself? Besides, Leo and Charles will be shooting during the day, Lily and Lottie can play their part in keeping the sisters amiable.”

“Lottie, perhaps, but Lily seems to have her hands full.” Fiona cast her gaze across the room to where Ernest Treadwell held Lily in captive conversation. “What is that all about?” she asked. “Is he setting himself up as a rival to Kendrick in the very days before the wedding?”

“I can’t say what he’s thinking. I noticed how attentive he was to her on the train from London and so did Eliza Durant. I don’t know why Lily hasn’t put a stop to it. Or Leo, for that matter. Treadwell is supposed to be Leo’s best man, but he gives all the appearance of trying to win Lily’s favor.”

As I came to my feet, Lily placed a hand on Mr. Treadwell’s arm. It was a far too familiar gesture. Was she leading him on? I stepped over to the pair and took my sister’s hand. “Dearest, Fiona and I must talk to you about the preparations for the church. As we have a few minutes before dinner, why don’t we do that now?” I turned to the young man who pursed his lips in annoyance. “You’ll excuse us, won’t you, Mr. Treadwell?”

“Of course,” he replied, his voice a rich baritone, his smile clearly for Lily alone. The man was a practiced flirt but his expression seemed to hold more than mere flirtation.

“Of course,” I repeated, hauling Lily away. He’d probably excuse her anything.

“Frances, you’ve already told me about the arrangements for the church. Is there something else I should know?”

“No, dear.” We paused by the open doors. I smiled at George, who’d just walked in, a sight to behold in his evening tails. Fiona shooed him away, and I returned my attention to Lily. “There’s something I need to know—specifically why you are encouraging that young man’s attentions.”

Lily turned a shocked expression on Fiona, who merely raised a brow. Seeing she’d find no quarter there, she glanced back at me. I waited, not so patiently. Finally, she let out a breath in a huff. “I am not encouraging his attentions. How can you say such a thing?”

“You are at the very least allowing them, which, he may well be taking as encouragement. Mr. Treadwell is your fiancé’s good friend. You will cause yourself no end of misery if you allow this to continue.”

She lifted her chin in defiance. “I am allowing nothing. He is simply being kind.”

Fiona looked doubtful, and I held up a hand to stop Lily’s protests.

“You are both against me,” she said.

“If the man were simply being polite or kind, I would find nothing wrong with his actions, or yours, but I’m beginning to think his feelings are engaged. To lead him on is not only cruel to him but unfair to Leo. Can you not see that?”

Lily appeared to be sincerely surprised. “You think his feelings are engaged?”

“I do. Are you telling me you’ve never noticed?”

“No.” She frowned as if she were trying to decipher a puzzle. “I wanted to be friends with him since he is so close to Leo. We are thrown together quite often, and I find him a good companion when Leo is not available.” She shook her head and backed off a step. “I promise you, I never saw him as anything more than a friend, but he has become more attentive since we came away from London.”

“I think he may see you differently,” Fiona said.

Biting my lip, I nodded my agreement. “I’m relieved to learn you aren’t playing with his affections or teasing Leo, but I’d advise you to take care with Mr. Treadwell if you don’t want to damage your relationship with Leo.”

At that moment the object of our conversation crossed the room with George and the second gong sounded for dinner. Lily sent her fiancé a smile. I knew her love for Leo was true and felt certain she’d take my caution to heart. But what of Mr. Treadwell? If he was such a great friend to Leo, why did he pursue the man’s intended?