Chelynne (28 page)

The old woman shook off her surprise and went quickly to do her mistress’s bidding. Chelynne shouted at her back. “And make ready a bed. Quickly now!”

The driver eased John into a chair in the front hall, where young maids were busy lighting candles for her ladyship. “Me thanks, gov’ner,” the driver said. “We was bound fer trouble, I told me mistress so. Mighty lucky yer ‘appened along. Me thanks.”

Chelynne muttered something under her breath that had much the sound of a curse and with lips pursed in a tight little pout she glared at the driver as he left the hall.

She sighed, throwing off her cloak and letting it fall to the floor as she bent again over John’s arm. John blanched and his eyes widened. It was not her preoccupation with his makeshift bandage that brought this reaction. He had seen Chad’s wife before now, but only at a distance. While he knew her to be lovely the space between them had always been great or, as in the coach, the lighting inadequate. Now, with the lighting bright and her face this close he could see at least one good reason for Chad’s poor humor.

There was a flush on her cheeks from the excitement and her hair had begun to tumble out of its pins to fall in taffy-colored ringlets to her shoulders. Two finely arched brows were raised as she turned her sparkling brown eyes to him. He was caught by that sight, the deep pools floating between sooty black lashes. Her skin was flawless and pale but for the pinkness of her cheeks and her lips that were moist and red and luscious. She was absolutely beautiful.

His eyes traveled reluctantly lower, a little afraid of what he might find. He almost gasped, for as she leaned over him her bodice threatened to split and spill out full, round breasts. She inhaled deeply as she took note that the wound was still bleeding, and that action brought John’s hands up as if he would catch those lovely mounds as they escaped. She looked at him again, that bright little face carefully judging his expression for a hint of pain. “Does it pain you overmuch, sir?”

John shook himself out of his stupor and smiled her fears away. “With one so lovely to tend me I think aught of pain.” He looked around himself and commented, “Someone of great wealth lives here.”

“Aye,” she replied, straightening and relieving him greatly. “The earl of Bryant.”

“The earl!” he cried, acting out the necessary surprise. He gave a long low whistle. “God’s blood, he’ll have my head!”

“John,” she sighed, smiling at his fear. “He’ll express his thanks if anything. Now, do be still. You’ve lost blood enough.”

Footsteps sounded and he watched as Stella approached with a huge manservant in her wake. John knew who that would be. Sebastian stopped short as he sighted the wounded man slumped in the chair. Though it had been a good many years since they had seen each other, Sebastian was aware of his identity at once. John made a quick sign with his lips to be silent.

Sebastian looked at Chelynne and raised a suspicious brow. “Who be this lad, mum?”

“His name is John, Sebastian. He has an injury I would like you to tend at once. I fear he’s lost a great deal of blood.” She looked down at her stained gown and mumbled, “A great deal...”

“What be he doin’ here, mum?”

“He lent me aid. Now let’s get him up to a warm bed.”

Sebastian still stood, confused, almost angry, if a servant were allowed such feelings. “What be ye doin’ about at this hour, mum? I wouldna let ye go out. What did the lad do?”

“Oh, later,” she snapped. She turned on her heel, and lifting her skirts, started swiftly up the stairs. John looked up at Sebastian with the glitter of mischief in his eyes. Sebastian didn’t budge. He frowned down at the younger man. “What be ye doin’ with me mistress, ye bloody scamp?”

“And she said she had no allies here,” John mumbled.

“Sebastian!” came a stern command from the top of the stairs. Sebastian gave a grunt and dragged John’s good arm around his neck, aiding the man to his feet. “If ye’ve hurt the lass I’ll be seein’ ye burn, John. By God!”

“I wouldna be hurtin’ Chad’s own wife, mon,” John teased with the Scottish brogue. He looked at Sebastian more seriously then and added, “Be quiet about it, Sebastian. She doesn’t know who I am.”

John was weakened—not badly so, but he allowed the servant’s aid to get him to the bedroom, and there he saw Chelynne and Stella pulling back the coverlet together. He was gaining a fair amount of pleasure from this pampering. His boots were pulled off and his shirt removed. He lay back in the soft down and sighed appreciatively at the luxury. He had been far too long without these comforts. Well-worn stockings were yanked off next, and when Sebastian touched the belt that held his breeches in place his relaxation came to an abrupt halt.

“Here, man! I can do with these on.”

Chelynne stood at the foot of the bed with a finger on her lips as if in thought. The breeches were blood soaked and had to go. “I think I can manage to find you something clean to wear in the morning,” she said hesitantly. “You look to be close to his lordship’s size.”

“Aye, the same,” Sebastian muttered without looking up. He went after the belt again and John gave up the fight. Chelynne turned delicately away to find another chore. She returned when the covers were pulled to his waist, but not without the light blush that deepened her color.

“I’ll see to him now, mum,” Sebastian told her.

“I’ll see you in the morning, John. Rest well.” There was such a look of relief on her face, the smile a truly happy smile. She was no longer afraid and it was easy to tell she found pleasure in being able to offer comfort to a friend. He watched her as she left, the rhythmic swing of her skirts keeping time with the small, graceful steps. He leaned back into the pillows and a slow smile spread across his face. So this was the little witch who had trapped Chad into marriage? This was the wench Chad suspected of plotting with her cousin to destroy the proof of birth that made Kevin his heir? This was Chad’s most carefully kept secret. Poor Chad. John made his mind. He would offer Chad his deepest sympathy at their next meeting.

A sharp pain in his arm brought his eyes open and darting to the manservant. Sebastian was intent on his chore and John relaxed again. Another pain startled him out of his complacency and John bolted upright. This man had mended scrapes for John and Chad in their early youth and his touch had always been marvelously gentle. Now it seemed rough and quick. John eyed him carefully. There was a glint in Sebastian’s eyes that warned John of suspicions. Sebastian tied the new bandage into place and did so with a harsh jerk.

“Sebastian! For the love of—”

“A touch of brandy will aid ye to yer sleep,” the old man suggested, going to a cabinet to fetch a bottle and a glass. “And while ye’re havin’ it, I’ll be hearin’ how ye come to be savin’ me mistress in the dead o’ night.”

John had a gulp of the brew. He smiled. So nice of his lordship to provide such luxuries. “It was the merest accident, Sebastian. I was just about to leave a pub and found her ladyship in the hands of thieves. That’s all.”

“Aye, and if that be all I’m the king himself. Ye knew the lass, did ye not?”

“Aye, and the Hawthorne coach. Could you doubt it?”

“Then ye’ve seen the lad?”

“I have.”

The servant’s face softened considerably. It had been for Sebastian a long time since he had had the pleasure of seeing Chad and John together. When they were youngsters he had taken them fishing and hunting, mended their scratches, told them old stories. They were a pair in their younger days, these two. “Then ye’ll tell his lordship that I tended ye and did so gladly. And I’ll be keepin’ a better eye to the lass from now.”

“I think he already knows that, Sebastian. Any ill will between Chad and his father does not apply to you.”

“I couldna take up those battles, lad. Never could I come between them and never could I serve the pair.” Sebastian looked into his lap and then with soft old eyes looked to John as if he would explain away all his doubts. “The word hadna made ye friends with himself, did ye know that?”

“That’s the best news I’ve had all day, Sebastian.”

Sebastian nodded and smiled. “Aye, I was thinkin’ it might be that. I’ll be sayin’ this to ye once, lad. It couldna make a heart more glad to see ye’ve come home.”

“Why, Sebastian,” John teased. “You’ve gone soft. You missed me!”

Sebastian growled and filled John’s glass again, his complexion darkening from the sentimental kindness. It was his habit to keep himself from such emotional expressions. “I’ll be leavin’ ye t’sleep. Ye won’t take much tendin’. I’d say ye play a fair game with the lass.”

“Now, Sebastian,” John playfully admonished. “Are you saying my wound isn’t serious? Far be it from me to deny the lady the pleasure of a good deed.”

“Argh,” Sebastian scoffed. “T’sleep with ye now.” He blew out the candles and closed the door behind him.

John closed his eyes, resting a little uneasily in the almost forgotten comfort of the earl’s fine bed. At morning’s light a maid brought him water for washing, and strong hot coffee and bread with honey to eat. He propped himself in the rich bed and enjoyed the meal lazily. Something for him to read was delivered and a bundle of clothes came later. Sebastian must have chosen the garb, for it was Chad’s but not the rich attire he usually wore. It wouldn’t do for John to go about looking like a prosperous lord.

In the past there had been offered gifts of lands. Charles offered him a land grant in Virginia, which he accepted as Chad had his, and neither had so much as measured their boundaries. He was a knight of the realm without lands, for all that he wanted and had ever wanted was Bratonshire. The mere thought of it was enough to send him bounding out of bed and on his way. Just as he would have done that, the door to his room slowly opened.

Chad entered, leaned against the closed door with his arms folded casually across his broad chest, and raised one eyebrow in question. John leaned back into the pillows and smiled.

“Are you quite comfortable?” Chad asked with belated concern.

“My thanks, your lordship. The pleasures are as swiftly delivered here as ever they were.”

Chad chuckled a little and then went to a chair near the bed. He was a bit reluctant to get into any deep conversation with John. Every servant had a price and theirs were among the most alert ears in London. Quietly he asked his question: “What’s this fob of saving my wife?”

“I think I at least saved you the price of a ransom. The little minx followed you to the tavern to catch a glimpse of your wench.”

“My what?”

“She thought to see what woman you preferred over her. That’s her story.” He shrugged. “She was without disguise or protection and of course it was only moments before her coach was struck. I am amazed that she made it so far as the Gold Frog.”

“What the hell gave her the idea I was with a woman? I told her I was going to the Frog on business.”

“You told her?”

“Aye, she came to my room to give me the—” He stopped short and gave the matter some thought, more clearly now. The passionate display in her chamber and the subsequent visit to his. So, the necklace was only an excuse. She intended to seduce him. “It seems my wife had other plans for the evening,” he mumbled.

John simply smiled. “It isn’t like you to leave a lady in distress, Chad.” His voice teased and Chad chafed slightly with the aggravation.

“To my knowledge the lady was suffering no distress. I’ll speak to her about her reckless behavior.”

“Why not just send her home to her family where she’ll be out of your way?”

“That is worth considering,” Chad muttered. “Does she suspect your identity?”

“No, but Sebastian isn’t fooled. He’s hot to the entire thing as far as I can tell. Ah...but she’s a lovely vixen, Chadwick. And to think you never made mention of all that she is!” John laughed outright at his friend’s discomfort. “She indicated she’s not entirely pleased with the lack of attention she gets from you. It’s my guess you don’t frequent her bed as you should.”

Chad winced involuntarily. More and more of his idle thoughts drifted in that direction. Even Bess had failed to remove one very persistent fantasy. He thought it brought him near lunacy. “Her Ladyship is well enough cared for.”

John laughed again and threw his legs over the edge of the bed and started to dress. “You’ll be sorry if you keep her in London and continue to ignore her. She’ll find a lover and soothe her injured pride. Hell, if she weren’t yours—”

He was stopped short by an icy stare piercing him from the depths of steely eyes. Another man might have frozen in fear, but not John Bollering. He shrugged, chuckled, and went on with dressing.

“You don’t fool me any more than she does,” he laughed, attempting to pull on his breeches with one hand. He stumbled, fell back onto the bed, and repeated the act again. Finally he looked up at Chad and winked. “Lend me a hand here, will you friend?”

“Not a chance. You’ve earned your struggle.”

“You’re not the least bit grateful, are you?”

Chad bowed. “For your chivalry, you’ll be rewarded. For your jesting, you can be all day getting into your drawers for all I care. You’ll never be above pirate, John.”

John took on a more serious expression and sat in exasperated failure on the bed, his breeches around his ankles. Chad laughed loudly. With determination and finesse John carefully maneuvered them into their proper position and sat down again, a sly victorious smile on his lips. “One good thing’s come of this. You can be damned sure she has nothing to do with her cousin’s mischief.”