Anne Ashley (13 page)

‘I’ve just been admiring the gardens here, Mr Petersham,’ she
admitted, when he continued to stare down at her in stony silence, after having
reached her side. His unsmiling scrutiny almost made her feel as though she had
no right to be outside, that she had unwittingly offended him by trespassing on
his private domain. ‘From a distance the house seems much closer to the cliff
edge.’

‘Yes, it is misleading,’ he at last broke his silence to agree.
‘The house is set in substantial gardens. One does not appreciate just how
extensive until one has explored them.’

‘Which, no doubt, you have,’ she suggested, encouraged by the
warmth of his tone to maintain the conversation, even though his expression
remained quite impersonal. ‘I was just debating whether it was possible to
negotiate the cliff face.’

‘Unless you were a bird, I would strongly advise against it.’
At last something approaching a smile touched the outline of thin lips.
‘Naturally, I made the attempt as a boy. I’ve more sense now.’

Once again he subjected her to a silent appraisal. ‘Would I be
correct in assuming from what you’ve been saying that this is your first visit
to Petersham House, Mrs Kingsley?’

‘It is indeed, sir. Since I came to live at the Manor your
father has remained something of a recluse. Even my godmother never visited
Petersham House during the last decade of her life.’

He nodded. ‘Sadly my father has suffered indifferent health for
quite some time. A series of increasingly severe seizures in recent years has
changed him completely. He has no intention of putting in an appearance this
evening, not even for a brief period. But I’m sure people understand that he no
longer feels equal to socialising.’

Behind the slight smile, the scrutiny remained intense, as
though he were attempting to read her every thought. ‘I hope you’ll forgive the
manner of your invitation this time. Please believe me when I tell you, Mrs
Kingsley, no slight was intended and that you were not, by any means, an
afterthought. It was merely that the party was organised quickly. When I
discovered your husband had gone to London, I never imagined for a moment you
would dream of coming on your own. I’m so very glad Kingsley returned in time
for me to issue a belated verbal invitation.’ He paused for a moment to remove a
speck of fluff from his sleeve. ‘I must confess to being somewhat surprised to
discover he was willing to desert you so soon after the nuptials had taken
place. I should never have considered doing so, I assure you.’

Perhaps she ought to have felt flattered. The only thing the
declaration had succeeded in doing, however, was putting her instantly on her
guard.

Her mind went back yet again to the evening of the dinner
party, when she had been introduced to him for the very first time. Apart from
the common courtesies any guest would feel obliged to extend to his hostess, he
had not singled her out for particular attention. In fact, if her memory served
her correctly, he had spent most of the evening in the company of the gentlemen
present. So why had he seen fit to favour her with his company now? Instinct
told her he never did anything without a very good reason.

She favoured him with a distinctly coquettish smile in the hope
that he might consider she had more hair than wit and consign her to the ranks
of mere frivolous females. ‘Sir, truth to tell, I was not happy myself.’ She
raised one slender shoulder in a slight shrug. ‘Being a mere woman, I do not
understand business matters, but I do appreciate we married in haste, which
resulted in my husband removing from his London residence rather abruptly. Apart
from other matters, he undoubtedly wished to assure himself that the town house
was now safely shut up for the summer. Then, of course, he was obliged to pay a
short visit to Kent. His uncle has not been at all well of late.’

Was it her imagination, or was he taking undue interest in
Luke’s affairs? Once again she was mistrustful of his motives and was determined
to give nothing away. The chances were that, as he knew all about Luke’s
absence, he would also have known of the Manor’s recent visitor. This she could
turn to her advantage quite easily by making her remaining behind at the Manor
understandable.

‘I, of course, could not accompany him on that particular trip.
Luke had arranged for one of his friends to stay with us for a few days and did
not wish to put him off at the last moment. Do you happen to be acquainted with
Colonel Prentiss?’

‘Prentiss…?’ he echoed, seeming to consider. ‘I wonder if he’s
one of the Hampshire Prentisses—very wealthy landowners, I believe.’ He regarded
her again for a moment in silence. ‘Would I be correct in thinking he was the
large gentleman who was seen escorting you about the district a week or so
ago?’

So she had been right! She was unequal to suppressing a smile
of satisfaction. ‘Yes, indeed it was—a most charming gentleman!’

‘Clearly you share your husband’s tastes, ma’am. He is, so I’m
reliably informed, frequently seen scouting the coast road. But I sincerely
trust he does not take you into that lowly tavern in the cove here below
Petersham House.’ His expression of distaste was almost comic. ‘For the life of
me I cannot imagine what could induce a gentleman of his standing to venture in
there!’

And neither could she, but she had no intention of owning as
much. She was certain now that he was seeking some information, but for the life
of her she couldn’t imagine what it might be. Was he suspicious of Luke’s
movements…? If so, why?

‘And neither can I, sir,’ she freely admitted. ‘But you must
remember he was once in the army, so I suspect he’s been in much worse hovels.
He would not be discouraged by a tavern’s poor condition if he felt the need to
quench his thirst. And the weather has been very favourable of late.’

Once again a semblance of a smile curled thin lips. ‘In that
case, ma’am, if you are about this way again during this pleasant spell of very
clement weather and feel the need of refreshment, I sincerely hope you will call
at Petersham House. You shall always receive a welcome.’

‘That’s dashed civil of you, old fellow!’

Briony swung round at the sound of Luke’s voice. Yet again he
had come stealthily upon her, catching her quite unawares. Only this time she
was by no means the only one taken aback. Just for one unguarded moment she
thought she detected a glint of annoyance in the dark eyes of the man beside her
at the unexpected interruption.

‘Once again I have been designated the role of Hermes, this
time by that vivacious cousin of yours, and am here to remind you that you have
promised to partner her in the cotillion, which is about to take place.’

‘In that case it would appear I must desert you, Mrs Kingsley.
But before I go, might I obtain a promise of a dance later in the evening?’

‘I’m afraid not, sir. I’ve been assured by one of the county’s
most experienced hostesses that it would not be considered quite the thing to be
seen dancing so soon after my godmother’s demise.’

He appeared to take the refusal in good part before addressing
Luke. ‘Perhaps we might enjoy a game of whist later in the evening,
Kingsley?’

‘I look forward to it,’ Luke assured him, then waited until
Miles was safely out of earshot before speaking again. ‘I saw you slip out here
on to the terrace and wondered whether you were all right.’

The admission revealed two things—firstly, that he had been
keeping an eye on her; secondly, that he had, in all probability, seen the host
follow her outside a short time later.

She smiled to herself. ‘Was it perhaps Petersham’s presence
that prompted you to delay enquiries into my state of health until now?’

Unlike her previous companion’s, Luke’s smile was full of
gentle warmth. ‘I must confess to a degree of curiosity as to why he joined you
out here, yes,’ he freely admitted.

‘I’m not so vainglorious as to imagine it was the pleasure of
my company he desired,’ she returned, seeing no reason to lie. ‘In point of
fact, I gained the distinct impression it wasn’t so much me he was interested in
as your recent activities.’

Not even by the slight raising of one brow did Luke betray
surprise. He merely reached casually for her gloveless hand and appeared to find
her perfectly manicured nails of immense interest. ‘Now why, do you suppose, is
he interested in my comings and goings?’

‘I—I really couldn’t say,’ she answered, desperately striving
to ignore the peculiar sensation suddenly running through her at the feel of his
flesh against hers and to concentrate on trying to discover more about the man
whose touch had had the most unexpected effect upon her from the first. ‘I am
beginning to think that—that you and Miles Petersham have much in common.
You—you are both secretive gentlemen.’

His eyes met hers briefly as he turned her hand over. Then,
before she could withdraw it, he had placed his lips lingeringly against the
softness of her wrist. ‘Believe me,’ he murmured huskily, releasing his hold at
last, ‘Miles Petersham and I have absolutely nothing in common—except, perhaps,
an enjoyment of cards.’

Once again white teeth showed behind a winning smile. ‘Which
reminds me… As you’re intent on denying me the pleasure of dancing with you for
the first time, I insist you partner me in my games of whist later in the
evening.’

Briony could not have denied him even had she wished to do so.
All at once her throat felt uncomfortably dry. Both Miles and Luke might be men
not to be trusted, but there was no doubt in her mind whatsoever now which of
them posed the greatest threat to her personally.

Chapter Ten

D
irectly after the Petersham party, life at
the Manor surprisingly enough settled once again into a routine of pleasurable
harmony. Although she and Luke didn’t precisely live in each other’s pocket,
both having interests of their own to pursue, they spent a good deal of time
together, as they had in those halcyon days prior to the dinner party and Luke’s
unexpected desertion to London.

They began socialising more often, accepting invitations to
many events in the neighbourhood, including a lavish party held at Willoughby
Hall, where the baronet’s wife once again proved herself to be the most
accomplished hostess in the district. The evening spent with Dr Mansfield and
his sister proved equally enjoyable, as did the alfresco gathering at another
neighbour’s home.

As July gave way to August Briony began to observe subtle
changes in Luke’s behaviour. When they remained at home in the evenings, she
would often catch him staring at her thoughtfully. Their eyes would meet and she
would receive the natural warmth of his smile, before he returned to what he was
doing, which was usually reading.

His behaviour in company, too, underwent a change. Although he
happily engaged in conversation with others, male or female, at the different
social evenings they attended, he refrained from even the lightest flirtation.
The only person he singled out for particular attention was none other than
herself, a circumstance that gave rise to several comments being made within her
hearing about the joys of being married to devoted husbands. Of course Briony
knew better. She was feminine enough to enjoy all the attention Luke paid her,
but refused to delude herself into thinking that it was anything other than
pretence, an act for the benefit of others. Maybe because of this knowledge she
remained on her guard and her vigilance was eventually rewarded.

Since Luke’s return from London she had not once deliberately
remained awake at night in an attempt to discover if he was continuing to
indulge in his night-time activities. Yet, something had roused her on that
particular balmy night at the very beginning of August. The window was wide open
in an attempt to allow a little fresh air to infiltrate the clammy atmosphere of
the bedchamber. At first she thought it must have been a noise from outside, an
animal foraging, which had disturbed her. Then she realised the sounds were
coming from the adjoining room.

Sitting bolt upright, she was instantly alert, wondering what
to do. If she followed him and confronted him now, she didn’t believe she would
achieve anything apart from putting Luke on his guard. He would then make up
some excuse for prowling about the house in the dead of night, as he had done
before. No, if she stood the remotest chance of ever discovering where he went
and, more importantly, for what specific purpose, then she would need to leave
the house herself and attempt to follow him. It wouldn’t be easy, but it was the
only way.

Once that light tread had passed her door, Briony almost sprang
from the bed. This time she knew she would need light to aid her and spent
precious moments achieving this objective, before rummaging through the wardrobe
for her riding habit.

By the time she had succeeded in dressing herself, she realised
Luke would be a considerable distance along the tunnel, if not already at the
lodge. She didn’t envisage he had decided to go for a midnight prowl on the spur
of the moment. So it was safe to assume that Vulcan would be ready saddled,
awaiting his master. Unfortunately she didn’t have that benefit and quite some
time had elapsed before she had her mare ready for riding.

Taking care to blow out the lantern before closing the stable
door, Briony led the mare across to the mounting-block. The horse’s hoofs
sounded like thunder as they clip-clopped across the cobbled yard towards the
drive. A quick glance back over her shoulder was assurance enough, though, that
she had thankfully disturbed no one this time. As the same outcome couldn’t be
guaranteed again, Briony was determined not to allow the perils of night riding
deter her from satisfying her curiosity on this occasion.

As she reached the village street, she paused and listened but
detected nothing, not even the slight rustling of leaves. She saw little point
in heading towards the lodge. Luke, if he had not tarried, would have ridden
away from there some time ago. But in which direction? Which way should she
go?

As though she had somehow managed silently to communicate her
dilemma to her mount, the mare made to move off to the left on to the village
street. Briony was about to check her, then stopped. The animal had
automatically taken the route that had become so familiar in recent weeks—the
road leading to the coast. And why not? Briony thought. It was as good a gamble
as any other, after all.

Once out of the village, Briony gave the mare her head and they
quickly arrived at the coast road. She had seen no one throughout the entire
journey thus far, for which she was exceedingly grateful. She couldn’t help
thinking that anyone abroad at this time of night must surely be up to no good
at all. Which once again begged the question of what Luke found to occupy him
during his night-time ventures.

As she rounded yet another bend in the road, Petersham House
stood out, an eerie black mass beneath the starry sky. Without conscious
thought, Briony headed towards the mansion at a much slower pace. The road,
which had been steadily twisting upwards, at last began to level off. She rode
past the tall wrought-iron gates of the big house, now firmly locked against
visitors, welcome or otherwise. An owl hooted somewhere off to her left, where
fields gave way to a thick wooded area, and at last she detected the sound of
waves crashing against the rocks. In the cove below the great house a cluster of
tumbledown dwellings betrayed the impoverished existence of the inhabitants,
most of whom barely earned enough to live from the sea. To reach the cove one
had to take the right-hand fork, but Briony, at last silently admitting defeat,
took the left in order to return to the Manor.

As the road began to twist gently downwards away from the high
rocky coast, and the land became more thickly wooded, Briony began to feel
distinctly uneasy for the first time. It was the perfect terrain for brigands to
lie in wait for the unsuspecting traveller.

No sooner had the alarming thought passed through her mind than
she detected a rustling sound almost directly behind her. Then everything
happened so quickly that she could do little else other than utter a startled
cry, which was quickly stifled by the firm hand that clapped over her mouth as
she was hauled rather roughly and readily from the saddle.

‘I could wring your blasted neck, my girl!’ a deep and
reassuringly familiar voice rasped in her left ear while she was being dragged
backwards behind a thick clump of bushes and trees. ‘Wait there and don’t you
dare make a sound!’ Luke ordered, releasing her at last in order to retrieve the
mare and securely tether her out of sight, well away from the road.

A hundred questions tumbled one after another across her mind,
but Briony had sense enough to heed Luke’s warning and remained sensibly
submissive as he returned, pulling her down on the ground beside him.

‘You’ll have a deal of explaining to do, young woman, when I
get you home,’ he hissed through clenched teeth.

‘And I’m by no means the only one,’ she whispered in return,
not unduly perturbed by the evident threat. If anything, she felt hugely
comforted by his presence, though why his face was blackened and he was dressed
in such shabby clothing was somewhat puzzling.

Suddenly he placed a finger against his lips, cautioning
against further exchanges. A moment later Briony heard it, too—the sound of
hoofs drawing ever closer and the distinct sound of braying. Then they were
there on the road, only yards from where she lay, a string of donkeys laden with
goods—smuggled goods, she did not doubt. There must have been a dozen or maybe
even more, and at least as many men, leading and walking alongside.

When finally the cavalcade had passed and could only just be
heard in the distance, Luke got to his feet. ‘Stay here and don’t make a sound,’
he whispered. ‘Whatever you do, don’t attempt to leave on your own. It isn’t
safe yet. There may well be others about. Wait for my return.’

The instant he disappeared among the trees, Briony began to
feel distinctly uneasy again. Whatever Luke was up to—and everything pointed to,
if not actual involvement, a keen interest in the illicit trade—she still felt a
deal more comfortable with him beside her.

As she slowly rose to her feet, she detected the sound of
further thundering hoofbeats drawing nearer. Within the space of a minute
several horses galloped past, each bearing a man in uniform. The militia was out
in force and there could be little doubt for whom they were searching. Thank
heavens she’d had sense enough to heed Luke’s advice and had remained hidden!
Had she attempted to venture home, she would undoubtedly have come upon
Lieutenant Henshaw’s men, and would have had some rather embarrassing questions
to answer.

She detected raised voices in the distance and almost
immediately afterwards a series of shots rang out in rapid succession. Clearly
the militia had run its quarry to earth, and from the anguished cries that
echoed eerily through the wood, not all the men would be returning safely home.
But where was Luke? Surely he hadn’t involved himself in the fight?

The silence that eventually followed was more disturbing still.
Briony had no notion of how long she stood there waiting, listening for the
slightest sound to indicate Luke was close by once again. It might have been
minutes only or much, much longer. Just when she thought she couldn’t bear the
uncertainty of what had befallen him a moment longer, she detected the sound of
approaching footsteps, and saw him emerge between the trees, leading his prized
stallion.

All at once she knew something was very wrong. He wasn’t moving
in that easy fluid way of his. His every step seemed laboured and his right arm
was hanging limply. She rushed to meet him, recognising the lines of strain
etched in his face the instant she reached his side.

‘You’ve been hurt.’ It wasn’t a question; she knew he had.
Thankfully he had sense enough not to attempt to deny it.

‘I’ve taken a ball in the shoulder, Briony, and I’ve lost a
deal of blood. Can you help me to mount?’

A conveniently fallen tree provided the ideal means. She held
the stallion steady while Luke somehow managed to heave himself into the saddle.
Whether he’d have strength enough to remain there was a different matter.

‘I’m relying on you to get us back to the Manor…unseen,’ he
told her, as she used the same means to remount her mare. ‘Now, listen to me,
Briony,’ he went on, his every word an anguished whisper, clearly revealing the
pain he was experiencing. ‘No one must discover where I’ve been this night. It’s
imperative that no one knows I was here, do you understand?’

For a moment she thought he was about to lose consciousness, so
didn’t attempt to discuss the matter. Instead she took a firm grasp of Vulcan’s
reins. Luke needed all his strength to remain in the saddle. She feared, though,
that even this task might prove too much for him.

* * *

Never had Briony seen a more welcoming sight than that
single candle flickering in a window at the lodge, a clear indication that Ben
Carey was awake, awaiting his master’s return. Undoubtedly the servant wouldn’t
be expecting to find Luke in this state, she reflected. Nor would he be
expecting to see her, come to that. The wonder of it all was that they had
managed to get back at all. Times without number she had expected to see Luke
tumbling to the ground, but somehow he had maintained his grasp on the pommel of
his saddle.

No sooner had she slipped down from hers than the lodge door
opened. She offered no explanations and Ben Carey, after one glance up at his
master, didn’t even attempt to ask for any. Half dragging, half carrying, they
somehow managed to get Luke into the lodge and on to the bed. It was only then,
after pulling both jacket and shirt aside, she realised just how badly hurt he
was.

‘Oh, my God!’ Briony closed her eyes in brief, silent prayer.
She knew what needed to be done. She could only hope she had strength enough to
carry it out. ‘The lead ball is still in there. It must be dug out. And I cannot
even summon a doctor to carry out the task.’

‘No, mistress…I know you can’t.’

‘Yes, I expect there’s a great deal you do know. But now isn’t
the time to attempt to satisfy my curiosity.’ She glanced across at the window.
‘It will be light in an hour or so. I must return to the Manor. I’ll be back as
soon as I can with bandages and other things we’ll need.’

‘Mistress…?’ There was real anguish in the servant’s voice. ‘I
can’t do it. My hands…my hands just aren’t steady enough.’

‘I’m not asking you to do it, Ben,’ she assured him. ‘Whilst
I’m gone, strip your master of his clothes and burn them. Then clean him up as
best you can.’ She transferred her gaze to Luke lying so still on the bed, only
the slight up-and-down movement of his chest indicating that he still clung to
life… But for how much longer?

Determined to concentrate on what needed to be done, and not
give way to emotion, she dismissed the heart-rending thought from her mind. ‘I
promised your master I’d tell no one of this night’s escapade,’ she revealed as
she went over to the door. ‘Unfortunately, I must break my word. If I’m to stand
the remotest chance of keeping his activities secret from the world at large,
then I have no choice but to take one other into my confidence.’

* * *

The new day had long since dawned before Briony had
fixed the bandages tightly across Luke’s chest. Thankfully he had remained
blessedly unconscious throughout most of the ordeal of removing the lead ball
from his shoulder. Only when Ben had applied a red-hot poker in order to
cauterise the wound did he betray any sign of pain. Blessedly he relapsed into
unconsciousness soon afterwards.