06.The Penniless Peer (The Eternal Collection) (16 page)

BOOK: 06.The Penniless Peer (The Eternal Collection)
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It was always Anna who saved her from the worst consequences of her escapades with Periquine, who mitigated the punishment of being sent to bed early by creeping up the back stairs with milk and biscuits without her mother’s knowledge.

It was to Anna that Lord Corbury had carried Fenella the night after the smuggling expedition, and Fenella had heard at least a hundred times what a shock it had been.

“Coming here at the crack of dawn with you as white as a sheet and Master Periquine not much better!

“‘She’s been shot in the arm, Anna !’ he says to me. “‘And who’s done that I’d like to know?’ I enquired, not that I really had to ask the question!

“‘It’s not the first time I’ve spoken to you, Master Periquine, about playing around with dangerous fire-arms,’ I says to him.”

“You must not be too hard on him, Anna,” Fenella pleaded again and again.

“Hard on him!” old Anna gave a snort. “It’s time someone spoke their mind to Master Periquine and tells him to behave himself. You’d have thought the Army would have given him a sense of responsibility. But there are some who never give up playing around like a mischievous small boy however old they get!”

Fenella could not help laughing.

It was true that Anna was the one person who would speak her mind whatever the circumstances, and she was quite sure that while she was unconscious Anna in her own words had let Periquine ‘have it !’

But in fact it was not surprising that both Periquine and Anna had been worried about her. She had run a high temperature the next morning, but on her insistence Anna had not sent for the doctor.

“You must tell Mama I injured myself by a fall when out riding,” she said, “and I do not want a physician. You know as well as I do, Anna, that you can nurse me better than anyone else.”

The flattery had its intended effect.

Anna produced her own special potions which brought down the temperature, and the next two days the wound on Fenella’s arm was healing and she was no longer feverish.

At the same time she felt rather weak, and now she was up and dressed she was glad to sit quietly under the trees and know that she was being looked after, even though Anna invariably showed her love by bullying her.

“I’ll bring you a glass of milk in half an hour’s time,” Anna was saying, “and you’ll drink every drop of it if I have to stand over you to make you do it.”

“I do not like milk, Anna,” Fenella said petulantly.

“It’ll do you good,” Anna retorted, and Fenella knew that she would have to drink it.

She watched the old maid walking back across the lawn towards the house with a warm look of affection in her eyes.

She wondered how many punishments in the past she and Periquine had avoided by Anna protecting them from the wrath of their parents.

She was thankful that, after she had fainted in his arms in the darkness of the crypt, Periquine had had the sense to take her up the back-stairs to her room and to fetch Anna.

As Fenella thought of the crypt, a little thrill went through her as she remembered what she had felt when Periquine’s lips had found hers after the soldiers had left.

She had only to think of it to feel again that strange rapture which was unlike anything she had ever imagined she could feel.

She had always thought it would be wonderful to be kissed by Periquine, but she did not realise that the thrill of it would sear its way through her body, or that she would feel as if a sudden flame awoke something within herself so fierce, so passionate that she was almost afraid of its strength.

‘It was wonderful!’ she whispered to herself, and then questioned whether it had meant anything to Periquine.

Had he too felt that strange magnetism which had held their lips spellbound so that neither of them could move? Had he also known the magic which had made her completely his captive, so that she felt she was surrendering to him not only her lips, but her heart and her soul?

Then like a bitter blow she remembered that Periquine was in love with Hetty.

What she was feeling now must be the emotion which he felt when, with that exquisite pink and white face raised to his, he kissed those perfect rose-bud lips.

‘How can I be so foolish as to imagine for one moment that I could mean anything to him!’ Fenella thought. ‘How can there be any comparison between Hetty and myself?’

She knew only too well what she looked like with her worn-out faded dresses, the freckles powdering her small nose, her dark-red hair curling riotously over her head, instead of being elegantly arranged by a fashionable hairdresser.

‘Stop being so idiotic!’ she told herself severely. ‘You are just Periquine’s cousin, a girl for whom he has a warm affection but whom he regards as nothing but a romp. A child he has known all his life, for whom he has the same sort of love as he would give to his sister.’

Because she felt so weak the tears came into her eyes at the thought of how far removed he was from her in spirit, however close they might be in reality.

‘Tomorrow I will go to the Priory,’ Fenella told herself. Periquine’s bed-room will be in a nice mess by now and I am sure old Barnes will have forgotten to press his cravats, Mrs. Buckle will have cooked him the same dish over and over again, because she always forgets what she had served the day before.’

She was planning how she would get up early and would ride over before Periquine had time to leave the house.

He had taken to going first thing to see the farms that were being repaired, and she also had a suspicion that either today or tomorrow he would go back to Hellingly to see what had happened to the cargo.

It would not have been wise to go before.

The military would still be making searching investigations along that part of the coast, perhaps questioning Mr. Renshaw and anyone else they could find in the village.

They would learn nothing, Fenella was sure of that, because the villagers of Hellingly had been involved in smuggling activities all through the war and were far too careful of themselves to turn informer.

There were horrifying tales about the brutality of smugglers to those who denounced them to the authorities or even to those who had been bullied into disclosing the whereabouts of a hidden cargo.

Fenella was sure that all who lived in the Hellingly dis trice would be far more frightened of Mr. Renshaw and the smugglers than of the soldiers.

At the same time it would be dangerous for Periquine to be seen there, and she only hoped he had been sensible enough to keep away.

Anna had told her that he had called to enquire how she was both yesterday and the day before. But her mother would not permit him to come up to her bed-room.

This was a somewhat belated effort of propriety on the part of Mrs. Lambert, but it made Fenella realise that at least the fact that she was grown up had percolated into her parent’s mind.

“I want to see Lord Corbury, Anna,” she had said to the old maid.

“I’m not bringing him up the back-stairs without your mother’s knowledge,” Anna had declared. “He’s done enough damage to you already, without getting you into any more trouble.”

“I have some very important matters to discuss with him,” Fenella pleaded.

“Then they’ll have to wait!” Anna said with a determination in her voice which Fenella knew was final.

‘Today I shall be able to see him,’ Fenella told herself and felt he was sure to call.

Then despondently she thought that perhaps he was not missing her company and would be too engaged on other matters to make enquiries about her health for the third time.

‘He will not be pleased,’ she thought miserably. ‘that his plans have gone awry.’

At the same time, once the soldiers had moved away, they could salvage the boat and Mr. Renshaw would arrange for the brandy and tobacco to be fetched by the ponies.

The thought was cheering, and then almost like a cold hand clutching at her heart, Fenella remembered that this would not be the end of Periquine’s smuggling activities.

If he received even more than £5,000 for this cargo, it would still not be enough.

They would have to go to France again and yet again, and at the thought of the dangers of such journeys Fenella felt almost faint.

It seemed to her inevitable that sooner or later they must be caught.

The odds were against them. However could they slip through the mesh every time with preventive boats and soldiers waiting at every creek all along the coast and being permanently on the alert!

‘I cannot bear it, I cannot,’ she whispered to herself.

She shut her eyes against the thought of being rowed backwards and forwards across the Channel expecting every moment to hear a voice coming to them out of the mist commanding them to ‘Heave to’, and then as they dashed for safety the bullets whizzing over their heads! Perhaps the next time one would strike Periquine rather than herself!

Her eyes were closed, but Fenella was suddenly aware of someone standing beside her chair.

She looked up, hoping it was Periquine, and saw Sir Nicolas looking down at her. A faint smile came to her lips, but before she could speak he said harshly,

 “Your maid tells me you have been wounded in the arm. What has that young jackanapes done to you now?”

There was so much anger in his tone that Fenella looked at him in surprise.

“Anna should have told you nothing of the sort,” she said weakly, “it is a secret.”

“Then it should not be one,” Sir Nicolas snapped. “Corbury should be told to behave himself. I always thought he was irresponsible, but I imagined he was sportsman enough to be able to carry a gun without injuring anyone - least of all you! “

“You must not blame Periquine !” Fenella said hastily.

“I do blame him!” Sir Nicolas retorted. “And I intend to tell him what I think of him. It is time someone put an end to his rampaging about like a wild bull.”

Fenella would have smiled at his words had she not been worried that he was blaming Periquine unjustly.

“It is not what you — think,” she said. “Please do not be — angry with Periquine.”

“Angry? I am completely disgusted by his behaviour! How could he have shot you? What was he doing out with a gun at this time of year?”

There was so much suspicion in Sir Nicolas’s voice that Fenella found herself saying weakly,

 “It was not — Periquine who — wounded me.”

“Then who was it?” Sir Nicolas enquired.

“A Revenue Officer.”

 “Good God! “

Sir Nicolas ejaculated the words, then sat down on a hard chair as if his legs could no longer support him.

He was exquisitely dressed as usual, the points of his collar beneath his white cravat high above his chin, his coat fitting superbly over his shoulders.

His fob glittered in the sunlight against the pale yellow of his skin-tight pantaloons, and the high polish on his Hessian boots made Fenella long to bring Periquine’s boots up to the same pitch of perfection.

“What did you say?” Sir Nicolas managed to gasp after a moment’s pause.

Fenella gave a little laugh.

“I am trusting you with our lives, since I somehow believe that you are a friend.”

“You mean that you were smuggling?” Sir Nicolas asked, the words coming almost in a strangled manner from in between his lips.

Fenella nodded.

“We had brought a cargo back safely across the Channel,” she explained, “but when we reached the creek from which we had set out, we had to sink the boat. The soldiers were looking for us and Periquine and I only escaped by a miracle.”

“Corbury must be demented ! “ Sir Nicolas exclaimed. There was so much horror in his voice that Fenella could not help laughing.

“I thought I had to tell you, Sir Nicolas, not only to excuse Periquine, but because I knew how shocked you would be,” she smiled, “but all is well. The bullet from the Preventive Ship only just grazed my arm. But naturally l could not tell Mama what had happened.”

“If you dial, perhaps she would have the good sense to hand that young fool over to the authorities,” Sir Nicolas Said grimly.

“Do not forget that, if Periquine is transported, I shall have to go with him,” Fenella said provocatively. “That is why I am quite sure, Sir Nicolas, you will not betray our secret.”

“I have a mind to give Corbury a good thrashing,” Sir Nicolas said, “which is what he deserves!”

Fenella laughed again.

Sir Nicolas was a tall up-standing man, but Periquine was taller and certainly broader of shoulder. She was quite certain who would be the winner if it came to a trial of strength.

“We were not caught and my wound is better already,” she said consolingly. “In two or three days there will be only a mark on my arm to show what happened.”

“How could you risk your life in such a foolish manner?” Sir Nicolas asked.

There was a different note in his voice now, and Fenella’s eyes fell before his as she said,

 “I had to go. Periquine could never have managed the bargaining without me.”

“I forbid you to do this again! “ Sir Nicolas said. “Do you hear me, Fenella, I absolutely forbid you!”

 Fenella’s eyes opened in surprise and as she looked at him enquiringly, he said,

 “You need someone to look after you, Fenella, Will you marry me?”

“Sir Nicolas !”

There was no doubt that Fenella was astonished.

“I never — thought,” she murmured, “I never — dreamt”

 She stopped and said quickly,

 “But you want to marry Hetty.”

“I never really wanted to marry her,” Sir Nicolas replied. “I considered the idea because she is so beautiful, and I thought that she would look well in the family diamonds. But that was before I met you.”

“But I am the last person you could possibly want as a wife,” Fenella protested. “You know that I say just what comes into my head. I have not an air of consequence or any of the attributes that you think so important.”

“I did think them important,” Sir Nicolas answered, “but since I have known you, Fenella, I have realised that all my values were wrong.”

He leant forward as he spoke and took her hand in his.

“It was meeting you,” he said quietly, “that showed me how much I am missing in life.”

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