Chapter Thirteen
Kitty sat to one side in the library where the men had gathered. The day already seemed about a year long, and she had to remind herself that sooner or later everyone had to eat something.
Had she been at Ridlington, or even at Aunt Venetia’s, she would have ordered food, but here she was uncertain of her status. Certainly she’d been welcomed by the staff, but a scandalous mistress had no place acting like the real mistress of the house.
Aunt Venetia had been informed, of course. She would wait for further news, since there was nothing she could do this morning. Nobody knew that the Ridlington contingent would show up in force, but now they had…well, Edmund might take over.
So she sat quietly and listened as the men discussed the matter, going over what had happened and how Hecate had been brought to Mowbray House.
“And no idea how it all occurred?” Simon addressed the question to Max.
“Not at this point, no. I’ve sent men to retrieve what’s left of the carriage. I’m deeply troubled, since Harris was a trusted driver for many years, and the carriage almost new.”
“And the man with Hecate?” Edmund’s voice was harsh. “Who was he?”
Max glanced at Kitty. “Dancey Miller-James.”
She sucked in a breath, which Simon heard. “Kitty, you know this man?”
“Everyone does, Simon. He’s a well-to-do member of the Ton, invited everywhere…in fact, I think he’s related to the Bishop that Tabby knows.”
Simon snapped his fingers. “That’s why the name sounded familiar.”
“There’s something else,” she said. “A few days ago—or it might have been weeks, since time seems irrelevant right now—Max warned me about him.”
Three heads turned to Max.
Who nodded. “I had heard Miller-James’s attentions toward Miss Hecate were less than honourable. I did my best to convey this to Kitty. In fact, it’s how we met on a more personal level than a dance at a ball.”
“Your source was reliable?” James asked.
Max sighed. “It was from the man himself. And no, he was not a gentleman.” He looked at the three of them. “I will not speak ill of the dead, Baron, sirs. So I ask that you keep this information private. It reflects poorly on a man whose death will, I’m sure, be a blow to his family. I would that we show a modicum of respect.”
“Of course,” said Edmund. “Well put.”
“I have my moments.”
“We’ve heard,” said Simon dryly.
“So.” Kitty judged it time to make herself heard. “What are your thoughts, Edmund? Should Hecate be taken back to Ridlington? Can the household care for her? I know baby Hugh is growing apace, but he’s still little. Tabby can’t move into the Chase, of course. And James, you and Letitia are travelling up and down from London right now.” She blinked. “Where is Letitia, by the way?”
“At Ridlington right now. She decided to stay there for a few days while I came up to town. Edmund and Simon joined me last night and the plan was for us all to travel back together tomorrow. Just some business details to finalize regarding the parish of Ridlington.” He grinned. “Simon is now officially vicar of a real, documented parish. And Edmund has the official duty to assign the living to whomever he chooses. It’s all settled.”
Simon glanced at Max. “Our father never bothered to formalize anything worth a damn. We’re trying to close the holes he left in the Ridlington estate.”
“Good luck to you all on that. Bureaucracy is one of the appalling sins that can turn a sane man into a madman.”
“Hear, hear,” approved Edmund, raising his glass.
“Well, congratulations, Simon,” smiled Kitty, giving her brother a hug. “And that does explain how you all arrived on the doorstep full of righteous indignation so damned soon.” She raised a hand as Edmund opened his mouth. “Hecate first, remember?”
He nodded. “Hecate first. I believe we should take her home to Ridlington. What say you?” He looked around.
“It makes the most sense,” said Simon. “She’s clearly had the best of care here…” his glance at Max was grateful, “and travelling now, while she is still too ill to notice much, might be best. I’d as soon see her awaken in her room at Ridlington, and thus begin her healing.”
“Logical,” said James. “Your physician, Edmund. He’s reliable?”
“Very,” replied Edmund. “And the staff—well, they’re good with gunshot wounds. That’s for certain.”
Max raised an eyebrow. “You must live an interesting life in the country. Or you’re all quite clumsy with your weapons, which I doubt.”
“Everyone adores Hecate.” Simon’s statement caught their attention. “There’s not a family within ten miles she’s not touched with her charm or her unique gifts. Once word of her accident gets out, Ridlington will be under siege. Everyone will want to help.” He looked at his brother. “If Elsie Dwyer brings any of her apple pies, you let me know.”
“Then the decision is made,” concluded Max. “James, do you have a travelling carriage in town?”
“No,” James shook his head. “It’s at FitzArden Hall. I didn’t need it for this trip.”
“Then I’ll offer mine as transport. It’s already being prepared, since we had no idea where she might need to go from here.”
“I daresay Aunt Venetia might like to go with her,” mused Kitty. “She was saying only the other day she’d like to see Ridlington and baby Hugh.”
“An excellent notion, Kitty, let her know?” nodded Edmund.
The conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Come in,” called Max.
Deery appeared. “Mr. Dal is here, sir. He tells me you asked to see him as soon as he returned?”
“Ah, yes indeed. Have him come in, Deery.” He looked at the others. “I asked him to mastermind the collection of the damaged carriage. I will be interested to hear what he has to say.”
Dal walked in, still—to Kitty’s amazement—looking calm and collected. The man must have been awake for at least twenty-four hours by now, and yet there was not a sign to show he was exhausted.
“Sirs,” he bowed to the room. “At Mr. Seton-Mowbray’s command, I have brought the wrecked vehicle back here.” He turned to Max. “While I am by no means qualified to make definite statements on such things, I would like permission to relate my findings, if that is appropriate?”
“Indeed it is,” said Max. “These gentlemen are Miss Hecate’s family.”
Dal glanced at Edmund. “She speaks fondly of you all. There is much love amongst you, which strengthens her quite often.”
“Um, well then.” Edmund’s cheeks coloured.
“What did you find, Dal?” Max stepped in to cover Edmund’s embarrassment. Kitty wanted to hug him and made a mental note to do so at a more appropriate moment.
“I found many pieces, sir. The carriage had hit a large rocky bank and much had shattered or splintered.” He took a breath. “As I mentioned, I am not an expert. But I do know the difference between a shattered spoke and sawn through spoke.”
Silence fell for a few moments, while the impact of this statement registered in the minds of those in the room.
Max was first to find his voice. “Are you saying one of the spokes on the wheels of my carriage was deliberately sawn through?”
“Good lord,” said Edmund, rising to his feet. “What on earth…”
“Yes, sir.” Dal gave Max a brief nodded assent. “I did indeed find the remnants of the wheels. And the spokes were severely damaged. But two retained obvious markings. They had been sawn almost through. Whether more had been similarly affected, I could not say. I can only assume that when the carriage hit a particularly rough piece of road, and at speed, they broke and thus caused the crash.”
“You have them here?” Simon stepped forward, shock on his face.
“I do, sir.”
Simon looked at Max. “I’d like to see them, if that’s all right?”
“As would we all,” added James.
Max turned to Dal. “Would you be so kind as to take the Baron and the others to see the damage, Dal? I will have chance to go over everything at my leisure, but they will be leaving shortly.”
“Of course, sir.” The tall man turned, his turban pristine white, his long robe still almost creaseless. “If you will follow me, gentlemen…”
Kitty turned to Max as the others left, her heart thundering. “Max,” she gulped. “Is someone trying to kill you?”
*~~*~~*
“I would be surprised to find that were the case.”
She watched Max’s face as he thought about her question. He was giving it due consideration, she guessed, because it was a logical assumption from what they’d been told.
“I’m quite sure I’ve made a few enemies throughout my life, but to the best of my recollection, I don’t owe anyone money, I’ve never rendered anyone penniless, nor have I killed anyone.”
“Seduced any prominent wives lately?” Kitty managed a grin.
“I don’t seduce wives, Kitty. They try to seduce me.”
“God, you’re arrogant.”
He inclined his head in agreement. “Only if you view honesty as arrogance.”
“In some things, yes. In others, no. But that’s neither here nor there at the moment,” she waved the philosophical discussion aside. “So you can’t think of anyone who might be out to do you harm?”
He slowly shrugged. “Not a soul.”
“Any staff difficulties here? Or at any of your other properties?”
He blinked, and took a moment to think about that possibility. “Not that I’m aware of. I have many servants that have been with the family for years, and I’m sure if there had been trouble, I’d have been informed immediately. We Seton-Mowbrays value good service and we’re not shy about making that known.”
“Definitely arrogant,” she muttered.
“I heard that.” He glanced at her. “I don’t have a lot of properties, actually. Besides Mowbray House, there’s a small estate just outside Southampton, that I visit in the summer sometimes. Then there’s Seton’s Folly for the hunting, and the family burden—Oakhall Manor. M’sister likes the place, but it’s always seemed more of a mausoleum to me.”
“Sister? That would be the lady whose clothes I’ve been borrowing?”
“Yes, Grace. She doesn’t care for town life. Prefers the quiet of the country. Oakhall is on the south coast, so she has the forests and the ocean near, which seems to make her happy. In the winter she moves closer to London. There’s a small hunting box she inherited, about twenty miles or so from here.”
Kitty was about to pursue her questioning, when the gentlemen returned.
Edmund’s face was dark with anger. “He’s right. Dal is accurate when he says the spokes were sawn—at least two, maybe more. Just enough, I would guess a good bump would do it.” His eyes met Max’s. “Someone’s trying to kill you, sir. And they’ve damn near killed my sister instead.”
Kitty saw Max’s nostrils flare, and quickly put her hand on his arm as she turned to her brother. “Hecate should not have been in that carriage, Edmund. It was borrowed—if you can call using someone else’s carriage without their permission borrowing—by Miller-James. If anyone should be lying on that couch, it should be me instead of Hecate. And Max would be…” She couldn’t say it, but the word dead hung in the air like a shadow. “And we don’t know yet that Max was definitely the target. Coaches look similar in the dark, don’t they?”
Simon sighed. “You have a point, Kitty. We don’t know enough to make assumptions.” He looked at Edmund. “I completely share your feelings, brother. But we must temper them with logic.”
Edmund ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right. No offense, Max.”
“None taken. I’d feel the same if it were my sister.”
Kitty felt it was safe enough to remove her hand. She was tired, so tired. Scared half to death by Hecate’s injuries, and now the burden of Max being a potential target—it was all taking its toll on a woman who was more accustomed to choosing gowns than dealing with disasters. “We need to plan what to do now,” she said.
Max glanced down at her. “Sit, Kitty.”
She sat and he brought her a brandy. “Thank you.” She sipped, the warming liquid bolstering the little strength she had left. Aware of the disapproving gaze of her brothers, she defiantly took another sip.
Edmund sighed. “Right then.” He turned to James. “You’ll be coming with us, James?”
“Yes, absolutely.” He narrowed his eyes. “I would think Hecate will need most of the space in the carriage, so it’s a good thing we have our mounts.”
“Should someone attend her? A maid? Kitty?” Simon looked at his sister.
She shook her head. “Simon, I love my sister to the ends of the earth. But I am not good at tending to the sick. I would spend half the journey sick myself with worry, and when we got to Ridlington any aspirations I might still have about nursing would be completely overrun by Rosaline, you know that. She’s so much better at organization than I am. Within a day I’d be back to the old pattern of doing nothing and trying to make it look like I was doing something.”
“You’re right, Kitty,” acknowledged Edmund. “But Ridlington is, and always will be, your home. You know that, don’t you? You are welcome there at any time, no matter the situation.” He cast a pointed look at Max.
“Understood, Baron.”
Edmund eased at Max’s response. “Good.”
Dal returned at that moment. “Sirs, forgive my intrusion.” He bowed over his steepled fingertips. “I have arranged a sling to hold Miss Hecate within the coach. I believe this will ease the journey so that she may not suffer any grievous harm while travelling.”
“Oh. Goodness.”
Kitty’s admiring exclamation was echoed in the faces of the others.
“Brilliant, man. Quite brilliant.” James nodded his approval.
“I would ask a great favor, sirs.” Dal lowered his eyes. “I would ask to be allowed to accompany Miss Hecate to the Ridlington Chase.”
“What?” Simon’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t think…”
“Simon, wait.” Kitty moved to Dal’s side. “Hecate has become very close to Dal and his family. I understand she has been teaching his niece and assisting his sister as she awaits the return of her husband from France. He’s a soldier in Wellington’s army…”
“Indeed sirs,” endorsed Dal. “We owe Miss Hecate so much. Nothing I could do for her would in any way equal what she has done for us.” He took a breath. “She protected my niece from an unpleasant incident without thought for her own well-being. For that alone, we owe her so much more than our gratitude.”
“That’s Hecate,” nodded Simon. “Always lending a hand.”
“One other thing, sirs.” Dal paused, looking at each of them, meeting their gazes squarely. “My people, my country…we accept and venerate those who are gifted above and beyond the ordinary.”
The silence was deafening.
“Miss Hecate is one such person; her abilities are, as I’m sure you are all aware, very unusual. And yet she has to hide them, to suppress them, if you will, while trying to live an ordinary life.” He sighed. “My sister and I have seen some of the strain this conflict imposes. But we are of the few who understand the nature of that strain. She can be herself around us. I would be there beside her when she wakes so she knows she can be herself then as well.”
Everyone took a moment or two to digest Dal’s impassioned soliloquy.
Finally, Kitty spoke. “I cannot presume to know what Hecate would wish, Dal, but I do know she values your friendship most highly. And I also know she would not be with us, alive, had it not been for her gift and your devotion.” She turned to Edmund. “There is nobody I would trust Hecate to more than Dal.”
Edmund winced. “I’m going to have a hell of a time explaining him to Rosaline.”
Simon chuckled. “No you won’t. Introduce them. Rosaline will see what’s what immediately.”
“I have to agree with Simon,” added James. “Plus the fact that Mr. Dal here found Hecate, and I’m still not clear on how that happened…” He raised an eyebrow at Dal, who remained silent. “All these things persuade me that he would be an excellent companion for Hecate on the journey. His strength will be useful if the ride is rough, and should she wake…having him there would set her mind at ease, I’m sure.”
And thus the matter of an attendant for Hecate was decided, and the process of taking her back to Ridlington was set in motion.
Kitty spent a moment wondering if this was some kind of nightmare from which she would wake any moment. But her hands were cold, and her tears harsh stings at the back of her eyes as she watched a still and pale Hecate, wrapped in warm blankets, carried out to the coach. She managed to touch her sister’s hand briefly. “Heal, darling. Take all the time you need, but come back to us, all right?” She dropped a quick kiss on one cool cheek.
Then they were saying their farewells, and the servants bustled to make sure all the provisions Max had ordered were loaded correctly.
Standing beside Max, Kitty observed but didn’t see. Her eyes blurred as she wondered if this was the last time she’d ever see Hecate. A tiny sob escaped, but Max heard it.
“Kitty?” He looked down at her. “You’re shaking. Come inside…”
Blindly she followed him, unable to contain her tears, staggering as her legs refused to hold her upright anymore.
“Oh sweetheart.” He caught her before she stumbled to the floor.
She barely heard his endearment, but felt his arms beneath her thighs and around her shoulders. The next thing she knew, she was sitting on his lap as he sat on the grand staircase. And he was cuddling her the way one would a distressed child.
The warmth, the touch of his arms and the sense of comfort—it overset her completely and she finally broke down, crying harsh sobs into his jacket. He rocked her, gently soothing her, murmuring things she couldn’t hear.
She was lost in the torrent of emotions that had finally overwhelmed her.
So she didn’t see Edmund return for his gloves, nor catch the widened eyes and amazed expression that crossed his face for a moment as he saw the master of the house cuddling and soothing his sobbing sister.
She also missed the slight curve of Edmund’s lips as he took in the unusual tableau. He gave an approving nod, which was answered by a slight dip of the head from Max.
Given the subtle implications of this silent exchange, the fact that Kitty remained unaware of any of it was probably a good thing.