Knight For A Lady (Brides By Chance Regency Adventures Book 3) Page 16

  “He were overcome, me lord. T’weren’t nowise his blame.”

  All four of his appointed guards were present at the parley in a back room at the Bear, appropriated by Niall days since for his use for precisely this purpose.

  The culprit, who was sitting on a chair looking hangdog, spoke up. “Someone gi’ me a knock, me lord.” He raised a hand, gingerly feeling the back of his head.

  “You were rendered unconscious?”

  Another voice chimed in. “Found ’im a-laying in the lane, me lord. Leastways, he were sat up by then, but Davey couldn’t nowise stand at first.”

  Niall eyed the sufferer. “At what time was this, Owen?”

  “When I found ’im? Early this morning, me lord, when I went for to take his place.”

  “So you’d been out for some hours?”

  “Must’a been, me lord. Know I be sick as a dog when I come to meself.”

  Niall thrust down the sharp words that rose to his tongue. Any soldier under his command would have raised the alarm the moment he came to, regardless of his state. These were village lads with neither training nor experience, he reminded himself. They were doing their best.

  “Do you know what time it was when you received the blow, Davey?”

  “Can’t rightly remember, me lord. T’were near dark, I know that. Only I bain’t heard nowt.”

  “One thing puzzles me. Why didn’t the vicar find you? He tells me he searched the lane.”

  “Davey were up at far end, me lord,” volunteered Owen who had found the man. “Must’a been laying hard by the wall, and t’were dark and Reverend would’a missed ’im easy.”

  Niall let it drop. Far more urgent to adjust his arrangements than indulge in useless recriminations. “Very well. Have a doctor see to your head, Davey, and don’t go back on duty until tomorrow.”

  “I be right enough, me lord, and put about as I be took unawares.”

  “Nevertheless, you’ll rest today. Your vision may be affected, and you won’t be as alert as I could wish.” The lad looked crestfallen, but Niall did not relent. The ban was necessary, and would serve as a salutary lesson for his lack of vigilance. “No, Davey. You resume duties tomorrow. Now, the rest of you. I want one man inside the vicarage from now on.”

  All four lads gaped at him. Mark, who had early constituted himself leader and spokesman, entered a caveat.

  “Inside, me lord? Reverend willn’t be suited wi’ that.”

  “Nor Mrs Tuffin neither,” chimed in Jonny. “She’d say as she willn’t be suited wi’ us clumpin’ about and ruinin’ her polished floors, me lord.”

  Amusement lightened Niall’s anxiety. “I dare say she will put up with it. And you won’t be in her way. The vicar will make no objection. He will be glad of anything that may ensure Miss Westacott’s safety.”

  “Aye, but be we to follow miss about house, me lord?”

  “No need for that. You’ll be stationed in the hall. It’s likely to be tedious for the most part, so you’ll take two hour turns, understand?”

  All four nodded, though they still looked dubious. Niall thought he detected relief on the features of the injured Davey. Did he suppose the others would fall foul of Mrs Tuffin?

  It did not matter. Nothing mattered beyond Edith’s safety.

  “That’s all, men. One of you take first watch in the vicarage, I don’t care which.” He hid a smile at their reluctant faces. “Draw lots if you have to, but do it quick. Davey, off to the doctor with you. The rest of you, let’s have one in the lane and the other this side of the green. Keep moving and keep your eyes peeled. Any sign of our man, and you go directly to the vicarage to warn Reverend Westacott. Have you got that?”

  He received a chorus of assent and a collection of unfocused salutes.

  “Good lads! I’m relying on you all. Go to it!”

  He left them on the words, confident his orders would be speedily carried out. He had not been in command of men for years without learning to distinguish between capabilities one man to another. Eddows had chosen well. Niall counted himself lucky to have discovered the estates to be so ably managed. He would have been lost without his agent’s competence.

  This setback, however, coming hard on the heels of young Peter’s lapse, had set him on edge. His had been the warning voice, but he had no satisfaction in being proved right. Edith had been shaken by her experience of the night, and her peace of mind must be shattered.

  He hastened back towards the vicarage, eager to take more time to allay her alarms. He’d had but a brief word with her as yet, his attention taken up by the need to ascertain what had gone wrong and find a better way to secure her safety.

  He found her ensconced on the chaise longue in the front parlour, partaking of coffee. She looked drawn, likely from lack of sleep, but she greeted him with a brave quip.

  “The conquering hero returns! I do not ask if you have slain the dragon, for I doubt you’ve had the chance, but you look as if you’ve been laying about you and felling enemies left and right.”

  Niall’s heart warmed and he leaned down to take the hand she held out to him. “Do I indeed? I regret to be obliged to disappoint you.” He scanned her face. “You, on the other hand, look decidedly peaky. Were you much distressed?”

  She flushed and withdrew her hand, instead taking up her cup and raising it to her lips. But she spoke with all her customary lightness. “Oh, I was perfectly demented. You would have been ashamed of me. My uncle and Mrs Tuffin did not know what to do with me.”

  Niall took a seat beside the chaise longue. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “I assure you. The one ended by plying me with warm milk and the other larded it with brandy. It is a wonder I am not still reeling about the house in a drunken stupor.”

  He burst into laughter. “You’ve not lost your wit over it at all events.”

  A little sigh escaped her and a rueful note crept in. “I wished for you very much, Niall.”

  He could not speak. He met her eyes, trying to read whether it was his mere presence she’d wanted, as her protector, or if there was true desire for him beneath it.

  “I wish I had known,” he said at last. “If you’d sent to me last night, I would have come at once.”

  She eyed him over the rim of her cup. “I know you would. There was no real need, not once Uncle had shown himself in the garden.”

  Niall frowned, snapping back to the matter at hand. “Do you suppose Kilshaw was still out there somewhere?”

  A little shiver shook her and she set down her cup. “He could not have made his escape so swiftly. I ran for Uncle the instant I saw him, and it could not have been many minutes before he reached the garden.”

  “Time enough for Kilshaw to conceal himself.”

  Edith’s gaze clouded. “Yes, and Uncle left the door open. That was when I lost command of my senses, I’m afraid, for I was convinced he could have slipped inside.”

  He reached to cover her shaking fingers, holding them fast.

  “You are by no means as composed as you would have me think, are you? Shall I ask the vicar to allow me to sleep in the house?”

  A trifle of alarm showed in her face and Niall took his hand away, conscious of an unjustified feeling of hurt.

  “I am persuaded there’s no need. Though it is kind in you to offer.”

  A breathy quality to her voice puzzled him. If he could only gauge her feelings. Or if she would speak of them. He hesitated to bring up the subject, especially at a time when she was too discomposed to think clearly. It occurred to him to wonder why she’d been left thus alone.

  “Where is the Reverend, by the way?”

  “In his study. He has someone with him.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “I was half afraid you would dismiss the whole, you know. My uncle and Mrs Tuffin were, I still believe, inclined to think I imagined it.”

  Niall squashed this without hesitation. “You did not imagine it. My guard in the lane was knocked unc
onscious.”

  “Oh, no! But Uncle searched the lane.”

  “It appears young Davey was lying against the wall near the far end, towards the road leading to Tazewell Manor. The vicar could not have seen him in the dark unless he walked the full length of the lane.” She was silent, her eyes fixed upon the dark liquid in her cup. “What are you thinking?”

  Her glance met his briefly and roved to the window. Her tone was low. “I had almost persuaded myself I only dreamed it. The nightmare is real.” Her gaze came around to his. “He won’t give me up. He is obsessed.”

  The deep despair in her eyes made a hollow open up in Niall’s chest. He wanted to catch her up, lift her into his arms and hold her safe forever. But the soldier in him knew the enemy must be defeated before he could hope to win her.

  He kept his tone cool. “Kilshaw is a man, Edith, not a fairy tale monster. He is not invincible. Don’t let these tactics drive you down.”

  “Tactics? Then you think he was not planning to make away with me?”

  “Hardly. He would not make himself so visible to you if that was his aim.”

  “Then what in the world was the point of his coming here?”

  “To frighten you, Edith. Fear debilitates the enemy. Sabre rattling is a well-known strategy in war. An army won’t attack if they can cow their opponents into defeat without wasting ammunition and men.”

  Her intent stare was disconcerting, but Niall supposed she was merely trying to follow his reasoning.

  “He hopes to scare me into submission?”

  “Something of the sort. He knows you are being guarded. I must suppose he means to show you that he is not deterred, to make you think, just as you said a moment since, that he will risk all to have you.”

  “Then how are we to outwit him? Can you outwit him?”

  The sceptical note was not lost on Niall. “We let him play his tricks, and we remain vigilant. My expectation is he will attempt a pounce. We will be ready for it.”

  “How? Without making me a prisoner in my own house, Niall, how?”

  He gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m putting a man in the hall. With your uncle’s permission, of course. They will turn about every two hours, but one will be here at all times. You have only to call or scream and he will come running.”

  He saw, with satisfaction, her brow lighten. Her lips quirked.

  “I hope I may not shriek at a spider and bring him for nothing.”

  “What, and you a school teacher? I dare say you have been a match for any number of spiders.”

  “True. And a few mice as well. I could hardly indulge my own apprehensions with my girls leaping onto their beds and making such a cacophony of protest.”

  “Good God! You are a brave woman, Ede. I’d rather face the thunder of cannon.” He was delighted to see her bubble over with mirth, and rose. “I must speak to the vicar, and then be off.”

  “So soon?” At once she shook her head. “No, of course, go. My stupid affairs must be cutting into your own.”

  “Don’t even speak of that. You know well I don’t begrudge a moment.”

  Her colour rose, but she spoke lightly. “Perhaps I should instead congratulate myself on providing you with a task a little more in your line than running an estate.”

  Niall grinned. “You should indeed. I’m gathering a little army here and we will repel all comers.”

  “I wonder if they know over at Long Itchington? It will certainly make for interest at the Lammas Fair.”

  “Damnation! I’d forgotten the Fair. When is it again?”

  “A week on Saturday.”

  “Soon enough. I must ask the vicar for a list of what is expected from me.” He held out his hand. “Don’t fret too much. Send to me if you need me. And don’t go out without an escort.”

  “I should not dare. I shall make use of your inside man.”

  “Yes, do. Small point in him kicking his heels here if you are out of the house.”

  He was glad to see her apparently calm again, and was able to leave her with a quieter mind as he went to interrupt the Reverend Westacott.

  Chapter Twenty

  With a sinking heart, Edith watched Niall leave the room. While he was with her, she could almost believe in a possible deliverance. Without him, she felt both bereft and prey to apprehension. She could not forget that, despite the presence in her erstwhile place of employment of three other teachers, more than twenty girls, the servants and Mrs Vinson herself, Lord Kilshaw had gained entry to her bedchamber where she lay debilitated from fever and vulnerable to his assault.

  It did not serve to remind herself that he’d bribed a maid to guide him unseen up the back stair. Who was to say one of Niall’s guards might not be suborned by a hefty sum? She had hovered on the brink of mentioning the fear to Niall, but dared not open the subject for the explanations that must inevitably ensue.

  With every encouragement to suppose Niall immune to Lord Kilshaw’s slanderous tale of his dealings with her, Edith was well able to imagine how he might react to hearing the truth. At worst, it must turn his vaunted love to disgust. At best, suspicion must taint it. Edith could not bear to see the change in his expression, to her detriment.

  For want of any other distraction, she sipped her coffee and found it cold. A fretful sigh escaped her, and an unwelcome reflection entered her mind. She had forgotten to offer Niall refreshment. Oh, that devil Nemesis of hers! He had once more made her less than herself, in spite of so many disposed in her favour.

  She swung her legs down from the chaise, intending to go to the kitchen with the tray and beg Mrs Tuffin for a fresh pot of coffee. Before she could rise, she heard a step outside the door, which opened and Niall came back into the room, followed by her uncle.

  “I’ve had a notion and your uncle is agreeable, Miss Westacott.”

  The formal address made her conscious and she glanced at the vicar, whose cheery face was a trifle overlaid with anxiety.

  “His lordship thinks it will be of more use to have young Peter Eddows sleep in one of the spare bedchambers, my dear Ede, and I am inclined to agree.”

  Edith’s gaze shifted to Niall. “Instead of your men taking turns in the hall?”

  “At night, yes. As the Reverend pointed out, none of you will get any sleep at all if the back door is constantly being opened and shut. I had not considered it, but what should have occurred to me is that if Kilshaw should be watching the place, it will give him too many opportunities to find a way to slip inside.”

  Edith could not repress a shiver, but she entered a caveat. “But do you trust young Peter after what happened at the Fox and Goose?”

  “It will give the poor boy a chance to redeem himself,” her uncle cut in. “And his lordship does not mean him to get between sheets.”

  “Indeed not. The more uncomfortable he is, the less likely he is to drop off. I don’t intend he should sleep through his vigil.”

  She had to laugh. “Poor Peter. We had best keep a pot of coffee on the stove so that he may keep awake.”

  “Well, if you do, don’t go lacing it with brandy.”

  Her uncle broke into a hearty laugh. “No, indeed, my lord. Fortunately we have no maids upon the premises to tempt him from his duty.”

  “Even if we had, I can’t see Mrs Tuffin allowing him within ten feet of her.”

  “Very true, my dear Ede. Well, if that is settled, I must return to my student. I am hopeful, if he will apply himself, young Barnabas may please his father and prove himself eligible to justify the expense of ‘wasting the ready in sending the cub to Oxford’ as Mr Chamberlain puts it.” With which, he departed for his study.

  Niall raised his brows. “It seems the teaching bone is inherited?”

  She was glad of the innocuous subject, and the chance to keep him with her a little longer. “Well, Uncle schooled me after my mother died, so perhaps it was a contributory factor in my choosing a school rather than becoming a governess. Although never having had one myself, I
did not feel qualified to take such a post.”

  He came to the sofa and stood over her. “I no longer wonder at your unusual qualities if you had the benefit of your uncle’s erudition.”

  “He is a very learned man, though you might not think it from his manner.”

  Niall dropped into the chair he had recently vacated. “He is an excellent man in every way. I cannot think how he permitted you to go off as you did.”

  Edith did not answer at first. “Will you not have coffee? I was just going to ask Mrs Tuffin for a refill.”

  “It must be a quick one if I do.”

  She was disappointed, but did not allow it to show. She got up from the chaise longue, but her intention was forestalled by the entrance into the room of the housekeeper herself.

  Edith had to laugh. “I swear you read minds, Mrs Tuffin. I was just coming to ask you for a refill.”

  Then she realised the housekeeper’s face was flushed, her expression fierce as she set her arms akimbo. “Never mind the coffee, Miss Ede. I’ve got one of those pesky lads at the kitchen door demanding to come and sit in the hall. As if I’d —”

  Niall was up, cutting in, his tone apologetic. “Lord, Mrs Tuffin, I do beg your pardon! I meant to make all right with you and I became distracted and forgot.”

  Her pugnacious attitude abated not one jot as she glared up at him. “Oh, it’s your blame is it, my lord? Well, I tell you to your head it won’t do!”

  The sight of the bustling housekeeper squaring up to the much larger soldier was so comical, Edith had difficulty preserving her countenance. But she felt it prudent to intervene.

  “It’s for me, Mrs Tuffin. His lordship thinks a man inside is a necessary precaution.”

  Clearly taken aback, the housekeeper’s glance swept from her to Niall and back again.

  “Well! If that’s the way of it, I suppose I must relent.” A finger wagged, much in the manner of her uncle. “But I’ll not have him muddying my clean floors, mind! He’s to wipe his feet before coming in.”

  “Of course, Mrs Tuffin,” Niall agreed in an unaccustomed meek tone that nearly overset Edith’s gravity.