Always and Forever (8 page)

"What do you think you're doing, Miss Shaughnessy, keeping the child from his nurse?" Lady Danvers asked in outrage.

Quinn ignored her and turned to Archer, "Are you aware that this woman beats your child?"

The question clearly caught Archer off guard when he didn't immediately answer. He looked puzzled from the nurse to Quinn and back again.

"Hitting is an acceptable way to discipline a child," Lady Danvers interjected.

"Smacking his hands, even whacking his bottom when he misbehaves -- isn't going to hurt him," Archer finally said.

"I agree, but the use of a cane should not be tolerated. Ever."

"What are you talking about?" Archer was truly surprised.

Quinn turned to Nickie. "Show your father."

Miss Jenkins spoke up at that moment. "I do not use a cane. And if there are any bruises on him, they are from him constantly falling out of trees. Like he did again today." Quinn didn't miss the evil smile on the nurse's face after she shared that little secret tidbit with her employer.

"What happened today?"Archer asked and that steely gaze was directed solely on Quinn who wasn't about to confirm the nurse's story so she remained silent. Archer reached for her arm to gain her attention but as soon as his strong hand wrapped around her sore arm, she gasped in pain. He immediately dropped his hand to his side.

"Don't hurt her. Leave her alone. She saved my life today!" Nickie screamed as he threw himself at his father trying to protect the pretty lady who had been kind to him. Archer hunched down and took his son into his arms.

"I didn't mean to hurt her, Nicholas."

"Well, you can't touch her because she's bruised from falling out of a tree saving me."

Archer's head snapped up to look at Quinn's but she offered nothing. Miss Jenkins used the opportunity to try for Nickie again but Quinn stepped in front of her.

"You are not going anywhere near that child," she nearly growled. While she felt strong in her conviction, Quinn couldn't help but feel an odd sense of fear as she looked at Nurse Jenkins. It was like looking into the soul of pure evil.

"It's my job. How dare you?" Nurse Jenkins seethed.

"Dare I? I should beat you to within an inch of your life." Quinn threatened. Her focus was directly on the nurse and her impertinent glower when she added, "I most definitely dare, Miss Jenkins, because you are terrible at your job."

Quinn turned to Archer. "Look at your son's body and see what the person, to whom you have entrusted his welfare, has been doing to him."

And with that Quinn left the solar. As she passed Mr. Tilward she whispered, "I believe I will have dinner in my room after all."

The following morning Quinn was awaken by Mrs. Hamston while Sara pulled open the curtains to let in the morning sun.

"I've made a poultice that I'd like to apply to your bruises."

Quinn hadn't slept much during the night since any pressure at all on her one side had her seeing stars. In her studies she had often read of the wonderful healing properties of homemade poultices so she was more than willing to give it a try.

"Please, that would be most welcomed," she said with relief.

She settled on the edge of the bed before removing her one arm from her wide-sleeve nightgown exposing her side to Mrs. Hamston who immediately gasped in shock.

"My word! It looks worse today."

Quinn happened a glance and couldn't argue with Mrs. Hamston's assessment: it looked awful. The poultice was a creamy purple color and Quinn could smell lavender and mint among the ingredients. As soon as it touched her skin, there was a warmth to it that was very pleasing on her sore muscles.

"That feels wonderful," Quinn said.

"I hope it will bring you some measure of relief," Mrs. Hamston offered sincerely.

She remained silent enjoying Mrs. Hamston's ministrations but after a while she just needed to know. "It isn't my place to ask but what happened to Miss Jenkins?"

Mrs. Hamston was quiet for a minute before she offered, "She has been dismissed."

"Good." Quinn wasn't going to ask anything more but being much like a cat, curiosity got the better of her, "What happened to Nickie's mother?"

"She died."

"Poor, Nickie. I'm so sorry to hear that."

"Not to speak ill of the dead but she wasn't a very nice person. He never really knew her and she wasn't very maternal."

"Yeah, Lord Scarcliff seems to pick them that way, doesn't he?" Quinn muttered mostly to herself but Mrs. Hamston grinned in response.

"Was she his great love?"

"Heavens, no. But then the late Earl was a hard man and didn't believe in the nonsense of feelings and love. He raised his son to believe it as well."

"Does Lord Scarcliff have other family?"

"A mother and two sisters but they live in the London townhouse and have not been to visit since Lord Scarcliff's betrothal to Miss Danvers."

Quinn's jaw dropped at that. "He's
betrothed
to Katherine?"

Mrs. Hamston was silent for a moment before she answered, "Yes."

Quinn knew that was how marriages were done in this time -- it was a business contract nothing more -- but still to bind yourself forever to such a creature seemed an awfully big sacrifice.

"What are Lord Scarcliff's mother and sisters like?"

The smile that spread over Mrs. Hamston's face was answer enough, "Charming," she eyed Quinn a moment before she added, "They would like you very much."

Quinn had been in the 18th century for almost a week and trying to reconcile what she knew now to be true, that she actually walked through time, with how that seemingly impossible scenario could be true was causing more than a few sleepless nights.

If she was sent here, which even saying that to herself had her unconsciously looking around for the men in the white coats, why was she sent here? In her heart she believed she was meant to fix the past, whatever happened here that caused the Scarcliffs to fall out of existence. If that was the case then she needed to seriously get a move on it because there was no telling how long she was going to be lingering in a time that was not her own.

With this in mind, Quinn started interviewing the staff. She found, especially after the fall and the removal of Nurse Jenkins, that most of the workers were very willing to talk with her but so far she hadn't found any clues as to what happened here. She learned, as Thaddeus had implied, that Katherine was not liked at all. What Quinn found interesting was the fact that it wasn't just Katherine's cruelty that had the staff taking a wide berth but also the belief by most that she was not "right in the head."

The late Mrs. Scarcliff was equally disliked but most of the staff didn't interact with her. That seemed odd since, as the Lady of the Manor, it would fall on her to work closely with at least Mrs. Hamston. According to Mrs. Hamston though, the staff wasn't hired for Whispering Winds until after Nickie's birth and Mrs. Scarcliff had no interest in the day-to-day activities of the manor, leaving the running of the place to Mr. Tilward and herself. She also mentioned household journals that Quinn was very interested in reading to better understand how a castle was run in the 18th century.

It seemed Archer had spent most of his time on estate business, paying very little attention to the staff and their comings and goings. The staff was in agreement that Archer did not like his wife and, in fact, he had not even mourned her when she passed. Additionally interesting to Quinn was that almost every person she spoke to mentioned that at times they saw a sadness in Archer: a soul-deep pain as one would experience when suffering a great loss. Quinn didn't understand what fed this sadness, if it indeed existed, but it could explain Archer's behavior since she'd been there. He was angry all the time but maybe the anger was really a cover for something more painful.

The one person she had yet to speak to about any of this, the one person who would probably have the most insight, was Archer himself. She wasn't sure how to bring up the subject to him especially since the man took astounding care in avoiding her.

Her investigation was floundering and with little else to do she was finding herself becoming rather antsy. How the women of the time didn't perish from boredom she didn't know. Women were expected to do very little, nap throughout the day, work on needlepoint and drink tea. Where was the exercise to both the mind and the body? Quinn was dying to go for a run but she certainly couldn't run in the gowns she had to wear. Maybe if she could get a pair of breeches and a shirt from Thaddeus? If she ran really early in the morning no one would have to see. Of course, she didn't have sneakers but the shoes the staff wore seemed fairly sturdy. She'd be willing to give anything a try since all the food she'd been eating was starting to take its toll.

Thaddeus was working with Archer again so she waited until she caught him alone.

"Good Morning, Thaddeus."

"And to you," he offered before he took her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles. He pulled her hand through his arm and started leading her around the gardens. "What are your plans today?"

"Well, actually, I was wondering if I could borrow a few things."

His eyebrow rose at that. "Such as?"

She explained her idea but his expression gave nothing away. He waited a few minutes before he replied, "You amuse me so, dear Quinn. I think I'd like to see this. May I join you?"

"Okay," she succumbed.

"Very, well. I will have the items brought to you discreetly. What time shall we meet? Perhaps before dawn tomorrow morning near the old oak tree?"

"Perfect."

As promised, Thaddeus had the items delivered the following morning. Quinn dressed in breeches that were much too big but belted a piece of rope and they did the job. Her shirt was loose and sloppy but that was okay too. The one concession she made was to wear her bra: she needed the support and absolutely refused to wear the corset. The silk stockings felt very nice against her skin and the soft-soled shoes were awkward but doable. She found a ribbon to pull her hair back and quietly made her way from the castle to their meeting spot. Thaddeus was already there, dressed very similarly to her, but his reaction to seeing her was, Quinn supposed, natural.

"It isn't decent, you dressed like that," he whispered. "Perhaps we should return to the house."

Quinn started stretching. "If I don't run I'm going to become a beach ball."

"Beach ball?" he queried.

"Never mind. You can go back if you want but I am doing this." She looked up and grinned. "Thanks for the clothes."

"Certainly. But let's hope no one sees us. They won't understand, I don't understand," he added.

"Once we start running you won't care."

Quinn started out slowly so Thaddeus could acclimate but once she warmed up, she let loose. The burn of her muscles as her feet pounded on the soft ground, the cool, crisp air that she took into her lungs, the sweat that glistened on her skin and ran down her back all felt so good. Thaddeus, being as in shape as he was, kept pace with her easily. Quinn estimated they ran about two miles before she suggested they turn back. Once they reached their starting spot, the sun was just beginning to rise and they both slowed their pace to cool down.