The Kidnapped Bride (26 page)

“Well,” Sarah replied seriously, “I think her ladyship could win if she had a mind to, for she had a headstart, after all, but I think she intends Colin to beat her.”

“Maybe I should take you to Newmarket with me,” he teased. “It seems that you have a knack for calling races.”

Her smile was a shy one, and she made no reply to his sally. The racers reached the white-barked tree, and from Sarah’s viewpoint, it looked to be a tie, but Colin was crowing that he had won.

“By a full head, Gram! You’ve lost your five pounds!”

Lady Packwood was laughing, trying to catch her breath. “You’ll have to wait for it, my lad. I’ve not got a penny on me.”

“Uncle Nick! I won, and now she won’t pay!”

They drew in alongside the other two. Lady Packwood was still chuckling. “Don’t look to me for it, brat,” grinned his uncle. “The lady pays her own debts. But you’ll get it, never fear. That’s one who doesn’t play and not pay.” Lady Packwood reached out to ruffle her grandson’s curls, but suddenly her face contorted in pain and she gave a sharp cry. Nicholas leaned quickly forward. “Mother! What is it?” Sarah, too, leaned anxiously toward her. Her ladyship had clapped a hand to her side but now managed a weak smile.

“’Tis nothing, children, I assure you. Merely a stitch in my side. I daresay I allowed my woman to make the waistband of this habit a bit tight, that’s all. I should know better than to ride neck or nothing when I’ve got it on.”

“Would you like to dismount and sit for a spell?” Nicholas asked solicitously. “We can spread your blanket under a tree.”

“That’s an excellent notion,” applauded his mother. “Then you may pick me up again when you return, or else I shall just go on home again when I feel better.”

“Why, you mustn’t stay here alone!” Sarah exclaimed, before Nicholas could speak. “I wouldn’t hear of it. His lordship and Colin can go ahead, and I shall stay with you.”

But his lordship objected to that scheme, saying that even the woods path was not necessarily safe for two lone females. “If it’s only a stitch, it will pass quickly enough,” he said. “We shall remain here until it does and then carry on as planned.”

A frown of annoyance flitted across her ladyship’s brow. “That sounds quite practical, dearest, but do you know I think I should do much better just to go back when I feel up to it, for I’m certain the pain will return if I attempt to go the distance. These things can be very unpleasant that way, you know. Now, before you say another word,” she added firmly, “let me say that I shall not allow you to cancel your visit, because the excellent Randolph is simply dying to show off his sow to you, and you promised you would go. If you do not like to leave Sarah—and I quite understand that—then, Colin may look after me.” Colin opened his mouth to protest, but a quelling look from under his grandmother’s nicely arched brows caused him to shut it again. “He will take good care of me, I assure you, and perhaps you will allow him to ride over later with that groom of his—Jem, I think he’s called—so he won’t miss out on the piglets altogether.”

“I cannot think you will be much safer with a boy for company than you would be with Sarah,” commented her son with an odd, speculative gleam in his eye.

Colin looked indignant, but her ladyship only smiled again. “Nonsense, Nicky. Colin would be quite resourceful in a crisis. Besides,” she added sweetly, with an air of one about to have the last word, “I have my pistol by me, so we shall be quite safe.”

Nicholas chuckled, shaking his head at her, but he made no further objections. With nearly exaggerated care, he helped her to dismount and supported her to a nearby tree, while Colin unsaddled her horse and brought the saddle blanket to spread upon the ground. “It’s a shame you neglected to bring your vinaigrette, Mama,” his lordship observed dryly.

Lady Packwood glared at him. “Yes, isn’t it!” she replied. “Do go, Nicky dear.”

Sarah frowned at Nicholas’s seeming levity and watched worriedly until her ladyship seemed quite comfortable. She thought it sounded exactly like Lady Packwood to have her own pistol with her while, at the same time, to have neglected to bring anything so quackish as a vinaigrette, but she worried that the “stitch” might prove to be something more serious. Her ladyship still complained of pain, yet she did not seem pale, rather the contrary. Her color was excellent, even a little high. Could it be fever? But when she suggested this to Nicholas after he had remounted, and even added that perhaps both she and Colin ought to stay, he only chuckled.

“Your concern does you credit, Countess, but I beg you not to worry. It is my conviction that we have all been rather neatly outmaneuvered.”

“I fear I don’t understand your meaning, my lord.”

“Piqued, repiqued, and capoted,” he added cryptically. “The pistol was a very nice touch indeed.”

Sarah opened her mouth to demand an explanation, but one suddenly presented itself to her, and she felt warmth suffuse her cheeks. Could Lady Packwood actually have been shamming the whole thing in order to throw her together with Nicholas? Glancing quickly at her companion, she was grateful to see that, although his eyes held a distinct twinkle, he was looking straight ahead. A few moments later, she had herself well in hand again, however, so that when he made a conversational gambit, she was able to reply appropriately.

Nicholas had clearly set himself to be pleasing, so the rest of their ride to the Randolph farm was very enjoyable. Mr. Randolph was delighted to see them both and expressed his sorrow at Lady Packwood’s sudden indisposition. His plump wife, when the matter was explained to her, suggested several possible causes and cures, till. Sarah was hard put to repress the laughter that kept threatening to bubble up. She dared not look at Nicholas and was very glad when Randolph finally escorted them out to the sty to view the sow, Judith, and her numerous offspring.

The piglets were darling, but Judith had whiskers all over her long gray-pink snout, and Sarah found it difficult to understand why everyone was so pleased with her. The sow did nothing more than lie on her side expelling an occasional long-suffering grunt, while her progeny scrambled and squealed over one another in voracious attempts to attach themselves to any portion of her anatomy that seemed to offer itself. Judith, meanwhile, showed not the slightest interest in any of them. Sarah had expected her to treat them as a cat does its kittens or a bitch its puppies, but Nicholas chuckled when she mentioned this to him.

“Pigs are very unpredictable,” he said. “I’ve seen a sow give birth and immediately roll over on top of the new piglet. I’ve also seen them, when the job was done, simply get up and leave with never another thought for their offspring. Believe me, Judith is doing very well indeed.”

He was in excellent spirits on the return journey, and Sarah found that she was enjoying his company very much. He uttered not a single critical word but kept her laughing and chattering until they had returned to the white-barked tree, where he showed no surprise to discover that Lady Packwood and Colin had already gone. He merely noted that his mother must have recovered enough to ride back to the Park, and the fact was confirmed a short time later, when they encountered Colin and Jem.

“Gram said I may as well go along now,” Colin explained. “She seems to be quite recovered, so I didn’t think you would mind if I left her in Miss Penny’s care,” he added naively.

Nicholas grinned at him. “I’m sure you were a comfort to her, brat, and she couldn’t be in better hands than Miss Penny’s, so you go on and stay as long as Randolph will put up with you.”

Sarah observed somewhat defiantly that she was much relieved to hear that Lady Packwood was recovered, but since her companion’s only response was a mocking grin, she might have become a trifle flustered had he not had the presence of mind to call her attention to a spread of wildflowers on a grassy knoll some little way off and to ask her opinion as to the species. This method answered very well, and they were soon quite comfortable again.

They returned to the main house and went immediately to pay their respects to the erstwhile invalid, only to discover that she was enjoying the pleasure of a morning caller, a lady of uncertain years and hair of a dubious straw color that hung in clusters of side curls over her ears. Her three-quarter gown was puce, cut high to the neck and long to the wrist, and it fit rather snugly around her generous waistline. Lady Packwood introduced her as Mrs. Tibbetts.

“Shirley Tibbetts,” amplified the visitor in a high-pitched voice, “not my mama-in-law, of course, who is old Mrs. Abigail Tibbetts, you know.” She giggled slightly behind one gloved hand. “I’m sure you will remember her, my lord, though perhaps you will not remember me, for I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.” She batted her eyes at him. “Of meeting each other, that is. Until now, of course.”

“’Tis certain poor Moreland don’t remember either you or your poor old mama-in-law, Mrs. Tibbetts, for he’s got a shockingly bad memory, you know. You must tell him all about yourself; however,” she added, twinkling at her son’s expression of dismay, “I daresay he hasn’t got time for it all right now, so perhaps you’d best get on with what you were saying before about your youngest. I am sure it must have been fascinating.”

The sardonic tone was clearly lost on Mrs. Tibbetts, who promptly launched herself into a rather involved tale. It finally wound down to some sort of conclusion, and Lady Packwood made sympathetic noises, then rose and held out a hand to the visitor. “What a pity you must be going so soon,” she said sweetly, “but I know you said you would not take up much of my time, so we must not keep you longer. Do call again, however, and if my butler tells you I am not at home, you must leave your calling card, you know. Say good day to dear Mrs. Tibbetts, my dears.”

Mrs. Tibbetts had scrambled rather hastily to her feet, and Nicholas kindly offered to see her to the door. “Oh, no, my lord!” she protested, “though I am certainly flattered by such condescension from one in so elevated a position as yourself. But your butler will see me safely out, I’m sure.” She giggled again behind her glove before dipping a farewell curtsy. “Delighted, my lady, Lady Moreland. Good day to you, my lord.”

Lady Packwood had nearly ripped the bell cord from its moorings, so hearty a yank did she give it, and Dasher entered rather more hurriedly than usual.

“Ah, Dasher,” said the earl smoothly, “Mrs. Tibbetts is leaving now. Please show her out.”

“And if he ever shows that tedious woman in again,” snapped Lady Packwood once the door was safely closed, “I shall quite cheerfully hand him his ears on a silver salver!”

She sat down again with an unladylike snort, whereupon Sarah chuckled and Nicholas crossed the room, bent over, and kissed his mother’s cheek. “’Tis known as just deserts, ma’am, is it not? We had a very nice visit with Randolph, by the by. He sends his respects.”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to show some respect yourself, young man!” retorted Lady Packwood with a withering glare. “Sarah, lamb,” she went on in a milder tone, “do see if you can get Dasher back, and tell him I absolutely
require
a small glass of sherry before we have our luncheon.”

The rest of the day passed without incident, and when the tea tray was brought in that evening, Lady Packwood announced that it was time and more to visit old Nanny Bates. Nicholas grinned at her, and to Sarah’s surprise, she rounded on him indignantly.

“It is all very well and good for you to laugh, Mr. Impertinence, but I do not like the woman and never have. I should have gone at once to see her and got the business over with, but I didn’t, so now I must. And you will go with me, sir!”

“I am at your service, my lady,” he responded promptly, “but it really won’t be such an ordeal, you know. She must be at least eighty, so she cannot possibly frighten you any longer.”

“Much you know,” scoffed her ladyship. “That woman was an absolute tyrant in the nursery. You can have no notion! Any suggestion I made was promptly labeled ‘new-fangled nonsense,’ and even your father sided with her. Said he had perfect confidence in her, since she had raised a good many more children than I had! Can you believe it? And it didn’t stop when you went away to school either, because Darcy was still here, of course, and. so I had to submit to being reminded to write a letter once a week—though I wrote nearly every day—and to being told not to send you this because it wouldn’t be good for you or to send you that because it would. I tell you, if I hadn’t been a rather strong-minded sort myself, that old witch would have driven me round the bend.”

“But if you don’t like her,” Sarah protested, unable to imagine Lady Packwood afraid of anyone, “why must you visit her?”

“Because one must never be remiss in one’s duties to one’s dependents, my dear,” her ladyship replied simply. “She doesn’t like me any more than I like her, but it would hurt her feelings if I should neglect to visit her, and that would be uncivil of me.” She glanced fondly at her grinning son. “I may roast Nicky for his fusty notions, but there are certain civilities that must never be neglected by those of us in positions of privilege.”

“We shall take Sarah with us,” Nicholas announced. “Colin, too. It should be instructive for them to see you, my dear ma’am, wallowing in terror at the feet of a wiry, sharp-tongued old lady.”

He expressed his disappointment as loudly as his mother expressed her relief the following day, for during the night the clouds rolled across the Common and morning was nearly as dark as midnight. Then, lightning began to flash and thunder to roll, and when the first torrent of rain descended, the expedition to East End village was of a necessity postponed.

The next three days continued the same, and the occupants of both the main house and Dower House passed their time in pursuits suitable to such weather. There was a good deal of cozy conversation and card playing, and the attics of Dower House provided an afternoonful of industry when the three ladies and Colin prepared a detailed inventory of the contents.

The fourth morning dawned sunny and clear, but Lady Packwood insisted that the rainy weather had made the road impassable. When her son shot her a derisive grin, she added that she was sure she had caught a chill as well.