Brothers at Arms (34 page)

“No, of course I’m not,” he said, “but Charlie was.”

“Liar,” she said softly.

He turned away to walk back to the house.

“Aren’t you going to offer me your arm?” she said in a complaining tone.

“You came out here alone, so you can find your own way back.” He did not believe she had for a moment.

“How ungallant you are. I thought you were a gentleman.”

The scorn in her voice forced him to comply. It was not what he wanted, but he was not going to argue the point, in case she fell returning unescorted.

It was only as they passed through the French doors into the ballroom that he saw the ruffled state of her hair.

Then he heard a footstep behind them, and a languid voice declared, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Norbery, but your young lady has mud on the hem of her gown. I suggest the next time you walk in the garden; it would be wiser to stay on the stone paths.”

Joshua turned, and recognised the sleek black hair and hawkish features of the Honourable Robert Chetton, from Neathwood Park – which answered his query about Sophie’s escort on the outward trip to the garden. What the deuce was she doing with a man like Chetton, who was at least his late brother’s age, and had been on the town for years?

“Don’t let me keep you, dear boy,” Chetton said, “her fierce-looking brother is even now advancing.” With that, he was gone.

It was a relief when Sophie went back to school. The trouble was, Charlie insisted on going as her escort to ensure she came to no harm. Not that she would, for Squire Norbery always provided a coachman, a groom and outrider for support.

When he returned three days later, he looked dazed.

“Are you all right?” Joshua asked.

“Mmm, yes,” was his only response.

“Where have you been? We expected you back yesterday.”

“I… um… Sophie wanted me to meet her friend…s.”

“What are they like?”

“Wonderful.” Charlie breathed the word.

“All of them?”

“No, just the one, and she is beautiful.”

“What’s her name?”

“What?” Charlie was in a stupor. “I call her Diana… like the goddess.”

Joshua knew all he wanted to know about Roman goddesses.

Charlie made several visits to Bredenbridge in the next few weeks to take various items that Sophie claimed to have forgotten. Joshua guessed it was an excuse to see the other girl. Usually, he was a sensible chap but now he walked around with a silly grin on his face, uttering the most inane sentences, which were supposed to be poetry. It was painful, listening to him reciting it, or having him say, “D’you think she will like this, Josh?”

Joshua uttered words of agreement. It was not the time to say the rhymes made him feel nauseous, and Charlie needed a physic to set him to rights.

It was even worse when Charlie returned from Bredenbridge, declaring, “I’m in love, Josh.”

“You mean like the time you loved the red-haired girl in the village, and the gardener’s daughter, because you couldn’t make up your mind which you liked best?”

“No,” said Charlie, his voice ragged with emotion. “This is different. If you’d ever felt like this, you’d know.”

“Give me old-fashioned lust,” Joshua started to say, with a laugh, but the glow in Charlie’s eyes silenced him. It made him wonder if love was the same feeling that kept him awake at night, thinking of Lady Rosie. He thought it might be, and felt sad, not knowing if he would ever see her again.

“It’s all right. I believe you,” he said, knowing he would have to wait for Charlie to recover. If the past were anything to go by, he would be back to normal in a few weeks.

Then he recalled what Charlie said when they had their portrait painted in Rome.
We won’t fight as long as the goddess remains in the picture.

Joshua did not argue about Charlie’s notion of a goddess – nor did he intend to languish whilst awaiting his friend’s return to sanity.

In the event, time was long and lonely without Charlie for company. William Rufus tried his utmost to test Joshua’s mettle with boxing practice, but it wasn’t the same without the need to win and prove he was the better man. When Charlie returned to Linmore, it was clear his mind was elsewhere. Joshua could tell by the little smile that played on his friend’s lips, and felt sad.

Even from afar, he felt Sophie’s influence. Why couldn’t she and her friend leave them alone? If his brother had not died, he and Charlie might have been in uniform by now, and no females could interfere. Then he realised that Sophie Cobarne would have found a way to make her presence felt.

He drifted from one thing to another. Riding around the estate only made him realise how little he knew about farming, and he could not bear the pitying looks if he showed his ignorance by asking questions. He didn’t even know what was normal or what to ask.

One evening, he made his way to the dairy and waited for Millie to finish her work. A comely wench, older than him by three years, Millie was kind and Joshua liked her better than the younger milkmaids, for she didn’t make him feel stupid. When he and Charlie returned from Rome, she had kissed them both without favouring one more than the other. Now, she gave her time to Joshua, and comforted him so well, he decided that Charlie could take all the time he liked to recover.

Spring – 1801

In the event, Joshua had plenty of time to indulge his interest through the winter months. Charlie’s ardour for his goddess was unabated. He either languished around Linmore, singing her praises, or found an excuse to go to Bredenbridge to see her. Left alone, Joshua tried to understand his feelings, but it was hard.

Christmas likewise came and went, and when Sophie returned to Linmore at Easter, he noticed that she seemed filled with a kind of suppressed excitement, uttering silly giggles whenever she faced him across the dinner table. It was disconcerting to have Sophie smile at him, but her brother seemed oblivious.

With Charlie undecided about his future intent, Joshua wished they could have joined the family for a few weeks in London during the Season. Caroline had suggested it as a way to help distract Charlie from his obsession with Bredenbridge. Now they would have to wait until they were a year older.

Joshua – I need to see you. It is urgent. I will be in the usual place. M

When the message came, Joshua headed straight for the hayloft. Usually, he met the dairymaid at dusk when the barn at the back of the stables was quiet. Today the midday sun lit the yard, and the stable block was alive with voices.

Scrambling up the ladder, he found the loft unusually dark after the brightness outside; then realised that the door over the yard through which stooks of hay were tossed, was closed. How stupid; it was always left open in the daytime.

“Millie,” he called into the gloom. “Where are you?”

There was no response. “Millie?” he called again, but there was no answer. “Oh well,” he said. “I’ll let some light in before someone gets hurt.”

As Joshua moved forward to sweep back the bolt, a sound arrested his progress – a giggle that brought a smile to his face. Teasing, tantalising and so erotic, he blundered into the darkness without considering the pitfalls. Stopping to listen halfway, he heard an intake of breath, and caught the hint of a familiar scent. He would know Millie anywhere.

He reached out, but she was before him, catching his hands and slipping them inside her open bodice, without even a shift to hinder them.

“What’s the matter,” he murmured, “couldn’t you wait until tonight?”

Words seemed beyond her, but the moan of ecstasy was eloquence enough. Joshua savoured the moment, caressing her breasts, feeling her nipples harden as passion rippled through her. He felt an answering response, deep within and heard her panting breath as she began to stroke his thighs. Slowly, then with increasing urgency, she moved to his belly and slid her hands deftly past the clothing barriers to arouse him to fever pitch.

Whatever the reason for the summons, it would have to wait for this was Millie as he had never known her. The gentle girl who normally yielded to his every need had become a wanton.

He stood, biting his lip, and let her take him to the heights of fantasy, just as an older, bolder woman had done in the bagnio. Then, with a low moan, she slid down to the floor, drawing him with her.

Determined to take control, Joshua exerted his strength and rolled her in the hay, tugging at her mobcap. Millie had too much of her own way with him, now it was his turn, but he knew the ghastly truth even as he heard an unmistakable crow of triumph and felt mortification wash over him.

Oh God, no… Not that…

His befuddled mind cleared like a bolt of lightning as the girl’s laugh confirmed his worst fears. Lax in the pursuit of his own pleasures, Joshua was, like most men, puritanical in the belief that women of the family did not behave likewise.

The realisation that, by some means, Sophie contrived to be with him in this act breached the unwritten code of conduct between friends. Sisters, or girls brought up as family were sacrosanct. He would no more have seduced his friend’s sister than his own.

“Get away from me, Sophie.” Revulsion goaded him to violence and he flung her across the floor, not caring how she landed, as long as it was far away from him.

Stunned by her feral behaviour, Joshua sat in the hay feeling sick with self-disgust and berating himself for not acknowledging the difference. The trouble was he was so used to meeting Millie and the suspicion never entered his head that Sophie might seek to take her place.

It was only when he gathered his disordered wits together and climbed down to the lower floor that he realised where his tormentor had gone.

“You bastard, Norbery – what the bloody hell do you think you’ve been doing to my sister?” The harsh voice came from nowhere.

Joshua saw Charlie standing in the doorway, riding crop in hand, his expression satanic. Sophie stood beside him, and smirked, while in her red-tipped fingers, she held back the tattered edges of her bodice to reveal several scratches gouged across her chest.

He was appalled, knowing that Sophie must have inflicted the marks herself to spite him for the rejection. “She wasn’t like that when she left me,” he burst out, but realised his mistake even as he uttered the words.

The riding crop struck full force across his face, splitting his lip and knocking him sideways against the wall. Stunned disbelief turned to anger with Sophie, and then erupted into action as Charlie raised his hand to take a second strike. He was damned if he would be thrashed like a dog.

Conscious thought disappeared as Joshua launched himself at his attacker. William Rufus had taught them discipline in practice sessions, but they had never before fought in anger.

This was real. It was vicious and Charlie was beyond reason.

It started as a scrabbling bout, sparring wildly, with both hampered by their coats as one aimed to inflict punishment, the other to protect himself and hold his opponent back until he tired. Then they might talk sense.

Despite Joshua being taller with the longer reach, Charlie was solid and threw a couple of punches to the head that made his eyes water. Time after time, Charlie milled in again, fists flying or aiming his foot. Joshua took a pummelling, then sidestepped, caught the outstretched boot and threw his opponent sideways to the ground, where he landed with a sickening thud, grasping his elbow. Pain creased Charlie’s face, but he refused to acknowledge it as he struggled, wheezing, to his feet.

Joshua stood upright first. The blood from his split lip was the least of his troubles now. His ribcage, fore and aft, was a mass of hurt, and he could hardly breathe for the pain.

Suddenly, Charlie scrabbled away through the stable door and snatched up a hoof-paring knife, with a vicious blade that could slice through leather.

“Now I’ll deal with you as you deserve, Joshua Norbery,” he said with a humourless laugh, as he returned to the attack, slashing the air back and forth.

Joshua backed away without taking his eyes from Charlie’s face. He saw murder there, and knew only his death would satisfy the lust for revenge. Somewhere in the background, he heard jeering and saw vague shapes moving forward through the corner of his eye. He dared not blink in case it gave Cobarne an advantage to gore him like a bull.

From nowhere, a commanding voice roared, “What is the meaning of this disgraceful exhibition? Stop this nonsense at once.”

Relief almost swept Joshua’s legs from under him as his father entered the stable-yard astride his big bay gelding. But it was short-lived, for Charlie, distracted by hands that grabbed him from behind, swung out in his rage and caught Ed Salter a glancing blow to the face. Joshua, standing only a foot away, felt the man’s pain on impact, and saw blood spurting out as the knife dropped from Charlie’s fingers, and clattered on the cobbles, from where one of the grooms snatched it up out of harm’s way.

“I didn’t mean it,” Charlie said in a voice hoarse with shock, and was promptly sick on the ground, but no one took any notice. Everyone’s attention was on the groom rolling on the floor, screaming with pain, the side of his face a mass of blood.

“I don’t care whether you meant it or not,” Tom Norbery blazed at them as he dismounted. “Get out of my sight, the pair of you, and don’t speak to each other until I call you.”

“He raped Sophie,” Charlie protested.

“No, I didn’t, she – ” Joshua, similarly sickened by the sight, interrupted.

“I haven’t time to listen to your bickering, this man needs help,” Squire Norbery snapped, as someone led his horse away. “You,” he said to one of the grooms who looked on. “Ride to Middlebrook surgery for the physician. Tell him that there’s been an accident and I need his services immediately.” To another, he said, “Ask Miss Jane and Jessie to bring clean dressings for the wound, quickly.”

He stripped off his gloves and pressed a couple of clean folded handkerchiefs to the man’s face.

Joshua and Charlie looked on in stunned silence as Squire Norbery said over his shoulder to the assembled gathering, “Not a word of this situation leaves the yard. The man has been kicked by a horse. Is that clear?”