Lord Atherton's Ward (8 page)

He knelt down easing his arms under the unconscious girl, Dickon came round and steadied him as he stood. For a moment is swayed, his feet hurt like the very devil, but not enough to stop him carrying his beloved back to the horses. He knew, after this near tragedy, that he loved Sarah more than life itself.

He handed her over whilst he mounted then she was back where she belonged, close to his chest. His friend took up position beside him, her groom on the other. The two men who had accompanied him from Kesgrave galloped on ahead to raise the alarm. The horses were tired, they could do more no more than keep up a steady canter on the return journey. It took them almost an hour to reach the Park.

Although it was but four in the afternoon the lowering clouds, and driving rain, made it dark. He saw a carriage racing towards him. The grooms had not been idle. His horse was almost done and so was he. When the carriage halted in front of him he relinquished his burden willingly. Strong arms lifted him from the saddle, his sodden coat removed and he was bundled into the carriage. Warm blankets were put around his shoulders and then Sarah, similarly cocooned, was placed in his arms.

He remembered little of the remaining mile, but he could feel his darling girl breathing evenly against his neck, knew that both of them had survived and thanked God for it.

* * * *

As Sarah came to the first sensations she observed were warmth and comfort. Her eyes flicked open to confirm her belief that she was home safely, in bed. She could hear voices and murmuring in the background, one was Jane’s, but the other she didn’t recognize. Should she risk moving her head? No, she remembered the excruciating agony when she’d done so whilst trapped on the ledge. She moved her fingers and it was sufficient.

Her sister was bending over, smiling reassuringly. ‘Look, Dr Finchley, just as you said, my sister has come round.’

A second face beamed down at her. She knew him now, after all he had been attending the family since before she was born. ‘Well, my dear, you gave us all quite a scare. If Lord Atherton hadn’t come along and whisked you off that the ledge, I shudder to think what might have happened. You have a slight concussion, and I have sutured the gash on your head. As long as you rest, take plenty of fluids, and stay in bed for a few days I am sure you will make a full recovery.’

She heard the door close behind him and wanted to ask Jane what had happened, but her throat was too dry. She tried to speak but managed only to produce a whisper. Jane raised her shoulders and a glass was placed against her mouth, she swallowed a cool drink of lemonade gratefully. As she was settling back she remembered who had saved her. How was he? She gripped Jane’s hand and raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the door.

‘Relax, Lord Atherton is well. The doctor has sewn up his feet, and he is in bed resting.’

Sarah smiled and closed her eyes. She was confused about the reference to feet, but was so tired and would ask Jane she meant when she woke up next time.

* * * *

‘Devil take it, Dickon, I have no wish to remain in bed. I don’t care what that quack said, I’m sure I can hobble to my sitting room with your help.’

‘You will stay right where you are, my friend. I shall fetch the brandy you demand, and will even make sure you get sent up more than a bowl of gruel for your supper. Apart from that, I have given my word to the doctor that I shall keep you in your bed until he returns to give me leave to let you up.’

Perry sank back on the pillows admitting defeat. He grinned. ‘That was a close call, Dickon. Thank God I had you with me, I couldn’t have done it on my own.’

‘My pleasure, old fellow. And it is good news that Miss Ellison is not seriously harmed either. As long as she doesn’t contract a congestion of the lungs, or some such thing, she will be up and about before you.’

 ‘I haven’t introduced you to her sister, Jane. You’ll have to get the governess to do so.’

‘No matter, Perry, I’ve already introduced myself. If you will give me your word you will stay put, I shall go down to speak to her. One, to make sure you get a substantial supper sent up and two, discover exactly how Miss Ellison does.’

Perry relaxed back on the pillows, a smile playing about his lips. Romance was definitely in the air at Kesgrave Hall. It seemed barely credible that after meeting Sarah on only two occasions, both of which resulted in him storming off in high dudgeon, he had decided she was the woman he had been waiting for all his adult life.

He’d done his best to get her out of his head whilst in Vienna and Paris, but had found himself comparing every young woman he met to his mental image and found they all fell short. He had often been amused when others would express their undying devotion to a young lady, had thought love was an emotion of the imagination. That a man fell in lust, not love.

Meeting Sarah had changed everything. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to the time she had placed her hand on his chest, when he had felt its heat through the thickness of his clothes. His pulse had accelerated and he had wanted to snatch her into his arms right then.

Now, it would seem, Dickon was similarly afflicted. Well, he didn’t blame him. Perhaps if he’d met Jane first he would have fallen for her. He tried to visualise the young woman but only saw a vague shape, a pretty face with hazel eyes and brown hair. However, he could see Sarah’s perfect oval face, illuminated by those incredible green eyes, the whole surmounted by a riot of russet curls, quite clearly. The fact that she was tall and well proportioned was a bonus, it was her face he had been attracted to. That first, then her intelligence and spirit had pierced his armour and he was done for.

He stretched and regretted it. The pressure of the covers across his feet was agonising. He must have been mad to discard his boots so recklessly, but was glad he had. The slippery leather soles would not have enabled him to scramble up the cliff in the final desperate rush. He must remember to reward the three grooms who had assisted in the rescue. The rattle of the tray outside announced his long awaited supper was arriving.

* * * *

Several days went by and Sarah was still deemed unfit to leave her rooms, but had been given permission to languish on the day bed in her parlour.

‘You have to remain quiet, my dear girl,’ Miss Read told her as she adjusted the comforter across her legs for the umpteenth time. ‘You must sit still and not fidget so. Dr Finchley insists you shall not make a full recovery if you don’t rest.’

Sarah frowned. ‘I am fully recovered. You know I hate being cooped up. See, outside it is as though the storm never happened. The sun is shining and I’m desperate to be out in it.’

‘And so you shall be soon enough, but until then Miss Jane is entertaining Lord Mainwaring in your absence; they are taking a turn round the rose garden at present, with Mary in attendance, I believe.’

‘Do you think that Jane is forming an attachment for this friend of Lord Atherton’s? She has spoken of little else these past few days. I am obliged to wait to be introduced to him myself.’ She knew she sounded decidedly snippy, but inactivity made her cross. ‘I’m going to rest now; thank you for visiting. Could you ask that I not be disturbed?’ I shall ring if I need assistance.’

Her governess retired leaving her alone at last. As soon as the door closed she swung her feet to the floor and stood up. Her legs felt strong, her head hardly hurt at all, although the stitches pulled, and she knew she had a magnificent bruise running down the side of her face. She was not going to lie on the daybed a moment longer. She took a few practice turns around the room and found if she moved slowly, didn’t turn her head too much, she could manage perfectly well.

All she had to accomplish was dressing herself. She went to her closet and chose a gown she could drop over have head, which required no buttons be done. It was a damask-rose silk, the neck line decorated with silk roses which were repeated around the hem. The necessary under garments were more difficult to locate; eventually she was suitably dressed and slipped the dress over her head, wriggling about so that it slipped down her body to settle in a shiver of silk around her ankles. She didn’t have the energy to search for stockings and hoped this omission would go unobserved.

 The morning was warm so she had no need for a wrap or spencer. Pushing her bare feet into matching pumps she was ready. Mary had gathered her hair loosely at the back of her neck and it hung in a long braid almost to her waist. It was too painful to have it up in her usual arrangement. A cursory glance in the long mirror assured her she was looking better than she deserved to after her near death experience.

She was determined to visit Lord Atherton and thank him in person for saving her life. She also intended to find out more about this friend, Mainwaring. She wished to know whether he was a suitable beau for her sister. Jane had described him as being tall and slim, although well muscled and with fair hair and blue eyes.

He sounded like her own ideal man. It was odd that she felt no interest when he was described to her in such glowing detail. It wasn’t just because it was Jane who appeared to be infatuated, it was because her head was filled with a growling, baritone voice and steely grey eyes.

Checking the wide corridor was empty Sarah began her slow approach to the guest apartments at the rear of the house. She was forced to pause and lean against the wall more than once, but was gratified to find her head cleared beautifully after each rest. She knew Atherton was in his sitting room. He was unable to go downstairs, so could be nowhere else.

She paused outside the door. Her heart was beating unnaturally fast and she knew her cheeks to be flushed with excitement. She raised a hand and knocked. The barked command to enter made her smile. His incarceration had not improved his temper either.

Pushing open the door she stepped in, smiling at the man balancing precariously on his crutches in front of the window. She had rehearsed her speech many times and was about to begin but was forestalled by his extremely rude reaction.

‘Devil take it! What are you doing here? You must not visit me in my chambers. Have you run mad?’

The all-too-familiar rush of annoyance gave Sarah the courage to retort. ‘I had come, Lord Atherton, to thank you in person for saving my life. It has taken me more than an hour to ready myself for this excursion. I might have known I should be met with ill manners, after all I have received nothing else from you.’ She gripped the door frame to steady himself intending to storm, nose in the air, back to her own chambers.

‘No, I beg your pardon, it was not my intention to offend you. But you must see it won’t do for you to come in here. Stay where you are, I shall come outside in the passageway. I’m sure that isn’t against any rules of etiquette.’

Sarah relaxed. Of course, he couldn’t risk being accused of compromising her, then he would have to make her an offer; that wouldn’t suit him at all. She pushed herself away from the wall and walked unsteadily to the window seat. Thankfully she collapsed on to it, she was feeling decidedly peculiar. Maybe if she rested she would feel more the thing in a moment.

* * * *

Perry heard the knock and braced himself for another unwanted interruption. He was going mad with boredom cooped up inside and had been practising getting about on his crutches so that as soon as he knew Sarah was downstairs he could go and see her. Being told by Dickon how wonderful the grounds were, how enchanting Jane was, did nothing for his temper.

His jaw dropped when he saw who was standing there, her dear face marked by a hideous bruise and a zigzag of stitches across her brow. His shock at her appearance had made him snarl her at her when he ached to gather her close and tell her how much he loved her.

Hastily explaining why she couldn’t enter he saw her smile of comprehension. She was so pale, he was certain she had lost weight. Now reasonably adept on his crutches he swung across the room, pausing at the exit. There was a window seat at the far end, she would have gone to sit on that.

To his consternation he saw she had swooned, was lying stretched out with eyes closed and, if he was not very much mistaken her ankles bare. He ought to send for help, but something made him hesitate. He crossed the few yards to join her. Propping his crutches against the window frame he dropped to his knees. Taking her cold hands he chafed them within his own.

‘Sarah, sweetheart, wake up. You must go back to your chambers, you are not well enough to be wandering about the house on your own.’ Her eyes flickered open and her lips curved. His heart missed a beat.

‘Lord Atherton, how did you get here? I came to give you my thanks. If you and your friend had not arrived when you did, I would have perished.’ Her eyes closed once more. He saw it was an effort for her to push them up again. ‘I am so very tired; I hadn’t realised it would be so exhausting coming to see you.’

Her hand was still resting trustingly in his as she fell asleep. He checked her pulse, it was even and her cheeks warm. It was merely overexertion, not illness. He cursed the fact that his feet were not strong enough for him to carry her back to her room. He would have to summon help. But first there was something he could not resist doing. Using his arms for support, he bent forward and gently brushed his lips across her mouth. Her lips tasted sweet, he inhaled deeply, loving her unique perfume that was his beloved.

Reluctantly he reached for his crutches and returned rapidly to his chamber. It wouldn’t do for him to be found at her side. He reached the bell strap tugging it violently. To his astonishment it detached itself from the ceiling and he was covered with plaster and dust.

Coughing and choking, he hopped back to stand in doorway, brushing his shirt down ineffectually.

* * * *

Sarah knew he was watching her. It had taken all her resolve to remain still whilst he kissed her lips. She didn’t know why he had done so, but wasn’t sorry that he had. She risked a peep from behind her long lashes. He was leaning in the door frame, in his shirt sleeves and britches, with his dark hair curling on his collar, he had a piratical look.