Lord Clayborne's Fancy (26 page)

“I thank you for the warning,” Clayborne said. “He sounds a most unsavory character.” He had meant to ask Rebecca’s direction, but thought better of it. After seeing his valise taken to his room, he strolled out of the inn, sure he could recognize the cottage from his wife’s drawing, And although there were similar stone cottages, none was so bedecked with roses as the one for which he searched, and he was not long in finding it. His tap on the door brought Harpert peering out through a small crack.

“Lord Clayborne,” she gasped in astonishment, throwing the door wide. “Do come in, your lordship. Mrs.... ah, Lady Clayborne is not in at present, but Miss Exton is in the parlor. One moment, I shall announce you,” and she dove into a room off to the right, closing the door behind her. She returned immediately to usher him into the parlor.

“Jason,” Constance cried, holding out her hands to him. “I was never so glad to see anyone!”

Clayborne clasped her hands firmly, and noted the pallor of her cheeks. “Is something amiss, Constance? Is Rebecca all right?”

“Truly, I don’t know, Jason, for I have just arrived home to hear from Harpert that Rebecca has gone to meet Elvira. I cannot like it! Elvira’s uncle came to the house some days ago and informed Rebecca that Elvira was not to see us any more. He called us lightskirts, Jason,” Constance cried, “and was very insulting to Rebecca!”

The muscle in Clayborne’s jaw twitched and his lips tightened. “I have heard nothing but evil of the man. Please have Harpert come here.”

Harpert appeared immediately to the summons and stood nervously before Clayborne. “I want you to tell me exactly what happened this morning, Harpert.”

“Well, sir, Lady Clayborne was sketching in the parlor, and Miss Exton was out to the butcher shop when there was a tap on the kitchen door. There was a young lad there, kind of surly-like, and he thrust a note at me and run away. Lady Clayborne has been teaching me to read and I could tell it was for her, so I took it right in. She comes out directly and says, ‘Harpert, it is from Miss Elvira. Tell Miss Constance that she says she has to see me and I am to meet her in the old stone quarry north of the village right away.’ Then she grabs a bonnet and leaves. She took Firely, of course, though she didn’t stop to saddle her,” the maid said, wishing to be perfectly precise.

“How long ago was this?” Clayborne asked.

“A matter of perhaps half an hour,” Harpert replied.

“Do you know where this stone quarry is?” he asked them.

“Not precisely, Jason, but on our rides I have noticed a sign for Quarry Lane,” Constance said, and told him how to reach it. “Take my horse. It will be faster than going to the inn.”

Clayborne hesitated momentarily. “You do think she may need help, Constance? I should not like to interfere if it is nothing.”

“Oh, Jason, you have not met that hateful man. It may be simply a note from Elvira, but I cannot feel easy in my mind. I fear it is a trick of Lawton’s for Harpert can tell you how he spoke to her, and looked at her.” She blushed.

“I shall find her,” he promised, and left for the stable if not precisely at a run, then the closest thing to it. Constance watched after him, wringing her hands in agitation, while Harpert assured her that his lordship would see matters to rights and offered to bring her her vinaigrette.

As there were only sidesaddles in the stable, Constance soon saw Clayborne bareback on her mare, urging the horse in the direction she had given him. Then she turned to Harpert, refused the vinaigrette, and said only, “I pray you are right.”

When Rebecca had read the note from Elvira, she was not so unheeding of the possibilities as Constance believed. Before speaking with Harpert she slipped a scissors into her reticule and, feeling a little ridiculous for such cloak and dagger methods, nevertheless slipped the reticule over her wrist. In addition she thrust a wicked-looking, lengthy pin through her bonnet to hold it on in the back, though it tied securely under her chin. She did not wish to desert Elvira if she were in trouble and needed help, but she did not wish to be caught at a disadvantage, either.

She briefly cursed Clayborne for not having acted on her letter, knowing that this might be unjust, but not particularly caring at the moment. She did not take the time to saddle Firely, for she had become accustomed to riding bareback again and she found the sidesaddle a nuisance.

Rebecca did not, however, have any clear idea of where the old stone quarry was located, and was forced to stop several village children before she received the information she sought. The young lad who provided it stared at her open-mouthed, noting her lack of a saddle skeptically.

“You’m like to fall off that way,” he advised. “The lane to the quarry be very overgrown and rocky.”

“Thank you, young man,” she laughed, “but have you ever ridden with a sidesaddle?”

He shook his head in bewilderment and she said, “Try it some day. It does not make the most secure seat,” and she wheeled the mare and was off. He watched her out of sight admiringly.

When she reached the quarry Rebecca could see no one, but her mare whinnied and another horse answered from not far away. She called softly for Elvira, but there was only silence. Not wishing to dismount, as it might put her in an adverse position, she retained her seat and walked the mare closer to the abandoned pit.

There were bushes encroaching on the open scar and the horse’s hooves raised clouds of dust which nearly choked her. Suddenly there was a movement to her left and before she could urge the horse away her arms had been grasped and she was pulled roughly down to the ground. Firely danced away from the stranger and stood eyeing him from some distance.

“What is the meaning of this, Mr. Lawton?” Rebecca asked coldly, as she lay in the dust at his booted feet.

“You shall see soon enough,” he gloated, retaining his grip on her arm.

“Where is Elvira?”

“Locked in her room at the manor, where she shall stay for the next week on bread and water, you may be sure. The grand lady did not wish to write a note for me,” he mocked, “so I was forced to punish her.”

Rebecca felt a shiver of fear and loathing shake her and Lawton, seeing it, roared with laughter. “Ah, yes, but I have other plans for you, doxy.”

“And you think you shall get away with this?” Rebecca asked, trying to force down the panic and make her mind work. Suddenly the scissors and the pin did not seem such effective weapons against this maniac, his grip on her arm so strong that it had become numb.

“Who is to stop me?” he countered. “Your legendary husband? Your lightskirt companion? Your broom-wielding maid? You shall not dare to say a word of it or it shall go very hard with your precious Elvira,” he snarled, flicking the whip in his other hand. “Get up!”

Rebecca stumbled to her feet and tried ineffectually to brush the dust from her gown, the reticule gripped firmly in her hand. She was thoroughly convinced now, if she had not been before, that he was mad. It occurred to her that she might place herself at better advantage if she appeared more in keeping with his demented idea of her.

“Well, you know, I really am married,” she said as casually as she could, continuing to work at the dirt on her gown.

“About as much as I,” he laughed wildly, enjoying his own joke. “And where might your husband be?”

“I cannot rightly say,” she answered demurely.

“That I can believe.”

“He is quite a well-known man, very rich and powerful,” she asserted lightly.

“No doubt that is why you are not with him,” he snarled.

“He sent me away,” Rebecca said, managing a becoming blush. Now he must ask her, for if she had not found the information she had sought in Clayborne’s books she had learned a number of very interesting things, especially in an old medical text she had found.

“Very likely,” he growled. “No man is likely to send away such a choice bit as you.”

“But he did, you know,” she said calmly, nodding her head wisely.

“Why?”

“As to that, I do not think I should tell you,” she replied evasively.

“Enough of this foolishness. I shall have you now and no more talking.”

“It would serve you right,” she said, simulating exasperation.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, Jason said, you know, that he would not keep me about to give him the pox,” she replied, imitating Clayborne’s accent every bit as well as Mary had.

Lawton abruptly released his hold on her arm and stepped back from her. “I don’t believe you!” he screamed, but made no move toward her.

“Do you not? Why else should I come to this Godforsaken place, I ask you? There are balls and parties going on in London right now which I should be attending, and that odious toad has banished me here for such a stupid reason. You would not care, would you?” she asked coaxingly, as she smiled at him with the full effect of her dimples and reached out a hand to him.

Lawton leaped from her touch and flung curses at her as he hastily untied his horse, hidden in the bushes. As the hoofbeats died away Rebecca gave in to the rubberiness of her legs and sank shaking to the ground, at last shedding the tears she had been holding back in her fright.

Once she began to cry she was unable to stop, her body racked with sob after sob. And then there were strong arms about her and a handkerchief was wiping away her tears. A familiar voice was saying, “I cannot think why we should all have imagined that you would need my help!”

“Oh, J...Jason, I was so afraid. I b-brought a scissors and an enormous p-pin in case it was a trick, but suddenly they s-seemed quite useless. F-forgive me, I c-cannot seem to stop c-crying,” she gasped.

“Hush now. Cry as much as you wish,” he urged, rocking her in his arms and brushing the black curls from her wet face. The racking sobs continued for a while, followed by long shuddering breaths, and finally little hiccups. “Do you feel a bit more the thing now?” he asked gently.

“Y-Yes. How do you come to be here, Jason?”

“Constance was much disturbed by Harpert’s message from you and she sent me to protect you.” He could not help but smile. “Really, Rebecca, I cannot imagine how you could believe that a scissors and a hat pin would be of the least use to you.”

“Well, and so they might have been but for his having that wicked whip with him. You did not overhear what I told him, did you?” she asked shyly.

“Oh, yes, I did. Practically every word of it! For a moment there I thought I should have to intervene, but you were such a complete hand it was certainly not necessary. I didn’t wish to precipitate matters if I could avoid it, for your friend Elvira’s sake. It should only be a matter of a day or so now before I can confront him with enough evidence to force him out of the country. Though if you prefer I shall shoot him for his attempt to…”

Clayborne was unable to finish his sentence, his eyes flashing with fury.

“No, no. You were perfectly right to do as you did,” she said, as she gently extracted herself from his arms and allowed him to help her to her feet. “Constance will be worried. We should go immediately to set her mind at rest.”

Clayborne stood looking down at her, making no move. She lifted her enormous blue eyes to his inquiringly, her face streaked with tears and dust and her bonnet crumpled beyond recognition. He longed to crush her to him, to protect her always, but he realized that he had thrown away his right to do so by his lack of trust in her.

His voice was anguished as he took her hand and asked softly, “Can you ever forgive me, Rebecca?”

“There is nothing to forgive, Jason. I should never have taunted you with unkindness, for you have stood by me when I needed you and I am very grateful. Do not distress yourself over this incident. When Mr. Lawton is no longer in the neighborhood, Constance and I shall be quite safe enough, I assure you.” She smiled timidly up at him and then whistled to Firely, who immediately trotted up to her.

“Would you hand me up, please?” she asked Clayborne. When he hesitated, as he wished to say more, she said gently, “I am fagged to death, Jason, and want nothing more than to lie down for an hour or so.”

“Of course you are. I’m sorry.” He handed her up onto Firely and retrieved Constance’s horse from a ways down the lane. They rode back to the cottage in silence, where Constance rushed out crying, “Oh, Rebecca, are you hurt? You look awful!”

“How unpleasant of you to say so,” Rebecca laughed. “I’m fine. No harm has come to me, but I should like to wash my face and lie down for a while. Jason will tell you all about it when he returns from stabling the horses.”

She refused to divulge any further information but went directly to her room, where Harpert appeared immediately with a can of hot water. Constance clucked about her while she washed and changed into a night dress.

As she tucked in the covers, Constance said, “Get some sleep. We’ll talk later,” and practically before she was out the door Rebecca was sound asleep.

When Constance returned to the parlor she found Clayborne pacing up and down the small room. “What has happened, Jason? Rebecca is done in and did not say a word.”

“It was as you feared, Constance. Mr. Lawton was there, not Elvira. I was not in time to hear how he managed to make her write the note, but I can imagine.”

“But you were in time to protect her from him?” Constance begged.

Clayborne smiled ruefully. “There was no need for my help at all, Constance. Rebecca managed to rout him by herself.”

“She took a weapon with her?” Constance squeaked.

“Well, as to that she had armed herself with a scissors and a large hat pin, but she did not feel they would be effective, as he was waving a whip about. No, she talked him out of forcing his attentions on her.”

“Talked him out of it? Don’t be ridiculous, Jason!” she exclaimed in exasperation. “The man is mad. He would pay no attention to her pleadings.”

“She did not precisely plead with him,” Clayborne admitted, biting his lip to suppress a smile. “She told him that her odious toad of a husband had sent her to the country to avoid contracting the pox from her.”

“She never! Oh, Jason, it is too much,” Constance crowed with laughter. “I can just hear her.”