Imitation of Love (13 page)

As he spoke a shot rang out from the
direction of the gatehouse. Fearing the worst, and with no thought for his own
safety, he jumped on his horse, commanding Harrington and the others to follow
him. The two ruffians didn’t have time to react to the sudden onslaught, as
they also seemed shocked by the sudden gunshot. Xander and Harrington were able
to knock them out pretty quickly, leaving the others to tie them up, whilst
Xander kicked open the gatehouse door and ran inside.

Phoebe was crouching in a corner,
whimpering. “Xander … darling …” she said, running to him. “I had nothing to do
with it. Celine made me do it. I’d never hurt dear Miss Willoughby. I…”

“Phoebe, get out of my way! Andrew, deal
with this … woman.” He dashed past her and up the stairs. Just off the landing
was an open door, and he could smell the gunpowder emanating from the room.
“Catherine!” He went in, terrified of what he might find, and cursing himself
for waiting for help. He should have come for her sooner. If he was too late…

He found her standing at the edge of the
room with the pistol in her hand. She trembled from head to toe and there was a
faint sheen of sweat on her forehead. “I killed her,” she said. “I didn’t mean
to. I just tried to get the pistol from her because I didn’t really want to die
and …”

Celine lay in a pool of blood on the
floor. Xander took a blanket from the truckle bed and threw it over her. 
Catherine, who hadn’t moved in all the time he’d been in the room, looked at
him with wide, terrified eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to help them in the
plot against the king. I honestly didn’t know.”

“Catherine…” He went towards her, just
in time to catch her when she fell into a dead faint.

Harrington came bursting into the room.
“Oh Lord, Xander is she…” He looked at Catherine lying in Xander’s arms.

“No, she’s alive. She just fainted. It’s
not surprising with everything she’s been through.”

“Thank God she wasn’t hurt. What
happened? Who fired the pistol we heard?”

“The French maid is dead,” said Xander
in slow and deliberate tones. “I shot her as she was about to shoot Miss
Willoughby.”

“But…” Harrington paused, and then
nodded. “Yes, in fact I saw you do it with my own eyes.”

“Miss Willoughby saw nothing, because
she fainted. So there’s no need for the authorities to ask her questions about
the shooting.”

“Yes, I agree.”

“Good man.”

“Phoebe and the two men are under
arrest, and we’re going to hand them over to the nearest goal.”

“Will you take care of that, Andrew? I
want to take her home.”      

“To London?”

“No, I’ll take her to Oakley Castle.
It’s more private, and I’ll need to talk to her before she sees anyone from the
authorities.”

Catherine felt so ashamed. She wasn’t
the fainting kind. Hadn’t she said that to Xander? And what had she done the
moment he entered the room at the gatehouse? She’d fainted away. She opened her
eyes to find she was sitting next to him in a carriage. He had one hand on the
reins and the other around her waist, holding her close to him. She was in the
most wonderful place on earth, despite the fact that the movement of the
carriage was making her nauseous.

 She wanted to talk to him. To explain
everything, and let him know that she hadn’t given into Celine’s demands,
whatever he might think of her, but her mouth felt dry and her head hurt.

Her recollection of events seemed hazy.
She remembered Celine starting to count to ten, and she got to five when it
suddenly struck Catherine that it was a ludicrous thing to do as it gave her
time to think. Before she’d reached ten, Catherine had gripped her hand and
pushed her away. There was a struggle, as they fought for the pistol, and then,
as they both fell to the floor, a loud retort.

Catherine could see herself, almost as
if watching an actress on stage, getting up with the pistol in her hand and
looking down at the dead woman. Then Xander arrived, and she’d wanted to tell him
how brave she’d been. To tell him how she’d stood up to their demands. Only
she’d started to feel ill. Her stomach ached, and she felt queasy. Not least
because she knew she’d killed someone. Then she disgraced herself by fainting
in front of him. He was so brave, he’d despise her for that, surely.  But she’d
killed someone, and she couldn’t get rid of the nasty taste in her mouth.

“Xander…” she whispered, as they rode
through the countryside in his carriage.

“Don’t try to speak,” he said. She was
ot sure, but she thought he leaned over and kissed her hair. She must have
imagined it because he would never do such a thing. Not when she’d been an
unwitting accomplice in a plot against King George’s life.

She didn’t know how long they’d been
travelling when Oakley Castle came into view. She’d dozed for part of the
journey, still fighting the fever that gripped her. She supposed, as they
approached the house, that he’d brought her here because he was too ashamed to
take her to London again. With that came the dreadful realization that everyone
knew what she’d done. It wouldn’t matter to her if no one wanted her in
society, but it might harm Alyssa.

“We’re home, darling,” said Xander, as
he stopped the carriage outside the house. “You’re safe. No one can hurt you
again.”

Catherine wondered who ‘darling’ was.
She was sure no one else had travelled with them. Had he brought Mrs. Somerson
back too? What if he didn’t know about her? There was so much she had to tell
him, if only she had the energy to speak. Catherine glanced around and could
see no one else so the mystery of darling remained.

Xander went around to her side of the
carriage, to help her down. “No,” she said. “I can manage on my own. I can
walk.”

He ignored her and helped her down
anyway. She pulled away from him, determined to show that she wasn’t some weak,
insipid woman. She could stand on her own two feet. Except her feet seemed to
be made of jelly, and didn’t cling to the ground half as well as they should
have. She was going to faint, and she couldn’t do that in front of him. Not
again. He despised her enough already. “I’m quite capable of…” she tried to
say, but the world started to spin, and she was afraid it was going to make her
fall over if someone didn’t put a stop to it soon.

His arms went around her and she heard
him shouting. Was he angry with her? She couldn’t blame him, even if it was a
bit unkind of him to shout when her head hurt so much. But he also seemed to be
shouting at Griffiths and a physician.

She decided to have one last try at showing
him she could walk, and of proving it to him, but then blackness descended and
she couldn’t say anything at all.

What followed were nightmares, as she
relived over and over the dreadful scene with Celine. She’d actually killed
someone, and even if that person had been evil, they didn’t deserve to die.
Then firm but gentle hands lifted her and offered her a drink, but she pushed
it away, because she knew that the water was dirty, and it would make her feel
even more unwell. A deep voice entreated her to trust him, and instinctively
she did, taking the water offered. It tasted wonderful, clean and fresh. But
still her illness persisted. Then the vision changed and she was floating
upwards, and looked down to see her sister crying at the side of a bed. There
was someone lying in the bed, but Catherine couldn’t make out who it was.  Was
it Celine? Perhaps she hadn’t died after all. But Catherine was sure she had,
and that even if she was alive, Alyssa wouldn’t be crying over her.

“No, Alyssa, don’t cry,” she whispered.
“Harrington will take care of you.” And she was glad to see that Harrington was
there, holding Alyssa in his arms.  She had done everything she could for her
sister, and it was time to let go. Only something … someone … kept pulling her
back. The same, safe, strong arms that brought her the fresh water. She wanted
to go to sleep and find peace, but he kept insisting she drink water and eat
broth.

“Please don’t leave me,” she heard the
deep voice say. “Not when I have so much to say to you.”

“I’m so tired,” she said.

“I know, darling. But you have to fight
for a little while longer.”

So she fought, because he asked her to
and she wanted to please him. And then finally, the peace she sought came, and she
rested on his shoulder and fell asleep, exhausted from the fight.

She opened her eyes to see sunlight
streaming into the bedroom, and Kitty bustling around her. “Oh, Miss Willoughby…”
Kitty approached the bed. “You’re awake.” Her maid gave her a broad smile.
“We’ve all been so worried about you. I’m ever so glad you’re well again. Mr.
Oakley said it was that horrible dirty place they took you that did it. It gave
you a fever.”

“It was the water,” said Catherine. “I
shouldn’t have drunk it. Where am I, Kitty?” Catherine looked around the
bedroom, but didn’t recognize it.

“You’re at Oakley Castle, Miss
Willoughby. We all are. Mr. Oakley said we all had to come back from London
because … well it’s not important now. You’re well again, and that’s all that
matters and Mr. Oakley said I’m not to upset you with talking about things what
might have happened. Mr. Oakley and Miss Alyssa, they haven’t wanted to leave
your side for a minute. But last night the physician said your fever had
broken, and Mr. Harrington ordered them both to get some rest. Otherwise they’d
have been here when you woke up, I’m sure. Then Mr. Oakley and Mr. Harrington
had to go off to London early to talk about those villains. Fancy someone
wanting to kill the king. It’s horrible. Oh I hope they hang them, Miss
Willoughby. ”

“This isn’t my room,” said Catherine,
wanting to think about anything but hanging. The walls were a cheerful primrose
pattern, with silk covers on the four poster bed to match.

“No, Mr. Oakley put you in the room
right next to his, so he could watch over you, he says. It was his mother’s
room when she was alive.”

Before Catherine could find time to
digest that information the bedroom door opened, and Alyssa burst in. “Oh
darling,” she said, running to the bed and throwing her arms around Catherine.
“We thought we’d lost you.”

“Now, Miss Alyssa,” said Kitty, “you
know Mr. Oakley says we’re not to upset Miss Willoughby with all the details.”

“I’m alright, Kitty, don’t worry,” said
Catherine. “I can guess for myself that I’ve been very ill.” Kitty curtseyed
and left the room.

 “How long have I been ill, Alyssa?”
asked Catherine.

“Over a week, dearest.”

“And the king? Is he safe?”

“Oh yes, don’t worry. They cancelled the
parade.”

Catherine wondered just how much trouble
she was in. She felt sure that Mrs. Somerson would have told the authorities
that she was the one who forged the first false letters, not Jimmy.  Added to
the fact she killed a woman. Was it possible she’d survived the fever only to
have to face the gallows for treason and murder?

Chapter Ten

“You’re still unwell, dearest,” said
Alyssa, when Catherine shivered involuntarily. “Try and get some rest, and I’ll
come back to see you after breakfast.” Alyssa walked to the door, looked back
and blew her sister a kiss.

“Alyssa … did Mr. Oakley say anything
about the authorities wishing to speak to me?”

“No, darling. Why would they want to do
that?”

“I killed someone, Alyssa. Mrs.
Somerson’s sister, Celine.”

“No, you didn’t, dearest. Mr. Oakley
said he heard you talking in your sleep, and from what you said, he thought you
might have had a dream that you’d killed someone. He warned us that you might
think some of the dreams really happened, because a fever can make imaginary
things seem very vivid, but you haven’t killed anyone, dearest. Honestly, the
very thought of you doing such a thing! Now get some rest.”

Catherine couldn’t rest. After Alyssa
had gone, she got out of bed, feeling a little shaky, but stronger than she had
when Xander brought her back to Oakley Castle. She called for Kitty to draw a
bath, and lay soaking in it, reveling in the clean, warm water, even though her
mind was still troubled.