Anita Mills (12 page)

“Paltry, Mama.”

“And as no harm is done, I would that you gave me a kiss of forgiveness, my love,” she added. “You will hear no more on this head from me, I assure you.”

“Just now, I should imagine my cousin would rather kiss a viper,” Roland told her. “Don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, coz.”

“I am sure Lady Sturbridge did not mean it,” Jessica insisted. “Please, Kitty. Remember Pope—or was it Gray?”

“It was Pope.” For the sake of peace, Kitty held out her hand. “I accept the apology, Lady Sturbridge.”

Knowing she was beaten, the dowager managed to smile at the rival for her son’s affection. “You dear girl. La, but I can scarce wait until you feel able to call me Mama also.”

“It’s settled then.” Roland sighed his relief. “Now, all that remains is to get Colonel Rayne to Rose Farm. Hope you girls do not mind it, but I’ll have to come back for you—two-seater, you know,” he murmured apologetically. “The carriage is down, alas.”

“To Rose Farm?” Lady Sturbridge’s voice rose. “You’ll do no such thing! If ’tis indeed Red Jack, he will be carried to Blackstone Hall immediately. Charles, you will see to it on the instant. And I shall send to Dr. Crawford this very night.”

“I’d thought Dr. Ellis,” her son admitted, “for he is closer.”

“Ellis? A country bonesetter at best,” she sniffed. “I would not have it said for the world that we did not get the colonel the best care possible. No, ’twill be Crawford.”

“But he’d be more comfortable at Rose Farm!” Roland saw his opportunity to acquaint himself to Red Jack slipping away. “Got more people to tend him there.”

“Nonsense. There are more servants at Blackstone Hall,” the dowager declared. “He will of course come there.”

“Servants! Wasn’t speaking of servants, Lady Sturbridge—mean family. Mean to treat him like family.”

“Yes, of course. Well, if he is truly ill, you would not wish to make him worse, would you? Tell you what, young man—look in on him at the Hall. I am sure he would welcome the company when he is better, but for now, I think he ought to be carried to the closest place.”

“I think she’s right, Rollo,” Jessica agreed.

“Thank you, dear. When Roland comes to visit, you come also.” Then perceiving that her son was again about to protest, she added with less enthusiasm, “And it goes without saying that I am always eager to see dear Kitty.”

He was beaten and he knew it. Roland nodded. “Be there in the morning—in case he should wish to have someone who understands the military mind about.” Then, seeing the skeptical expressions on those around him, he added, “Bring Kitty and Jess too.”

It was not until much later, after the baron had been bundled into the Sturbridge carriage, that Kitty felt a great sense of loss. It was as though Lady Sturbridge had taken him from her. “Rollo, I hope you intend to visit often,” she told him grimly as she and Jess squeezed into one seat of the two-seater together.

“Run tame in the house,” he assured her. “The dragon’ll have to throw me out. Daresay you’ll want to go also—give me an excuse. Mama will not complain if you are wishful of seeing your betrothed.”

And in the Sturbridge carriage, Louise held Red Jack’s hand solicitously. “La, but who would have thought it—Colonel Rayne at Blackstone Hall! I do hope you recover quickly, for I should like to hold a soiree in your honor—nothing large, mind you—just a gathering of friends. I suppose you were robbed of your medals,” she murmured regretfully, “but ’twill not matter. Everyone has heard of Red Jack, after all.”

“Mama, he is Haverhill now,” Charles reminded her.

“Well, if I were to say that, no one would know who he was,” she pointed out practically. “We will explain he is Haverhill when they come to call.”

Jack lay there, his head supported by the carriage door, wishing for Kitty Gordon.

K
ITTY ROSE EARLY
after a nearly sleepless night and made her way downstairs, where she discovered her aunt and Roland already at breakfast. From the doorway, she discerned that he was telling Isabella about Lady Sturbridge’s peremptory possession of Colonel Rayne. To her relief, he failed to mention that Kitty and Jessica had been there also.

“Encroaching female,” Mrs. Merriman murmured. “As if he ought not to be brought here. After all, ’tis Kitty who abducted him, and therefore we who are responsible for his well-being, I should think.” She looked up, seeing her niece, and for once she did not appear vexed in the least. “La, love, but what a tale Rollo has brought home!”

“Really?” Kitty took her place across from her cousin and tried not to betray herself. “I am all ears, coz.”

“Naughty girl! Only fancy—Jessica’s Haverhill has passed on, poor man,” Isabella answered for her son. She paused, waiting for the news to have the desired effect on Kitty.

To her credit, the young woman appeared dismayed. “Oh—surely not! I mean, he is not—”

“Not
this
Haverhill, my love. As far as is known yet this morning, he survives still.” Favoring her niece with an excited smile, she announced triumphantly, “I own I could not credit it, but you have abducted Colonel Rayne! Haverhill is none other than Red Jack Rayne!”

“Haverhill, Aunt Bella?” Kitty asked, feigning shock. “Oh, but I don’t think—”

“ ’Tis he! Just think—he is in Sussex!” She stopped again,
peering closely at Kitty. “You appear a trifle hagged, dearest, did you not rest well?”

“I had the headache,” Kitty lied.

“Again? I am afraid we shall have to consult Dr. Crawford about these megrims of yours. Lud, where was I? Oh, yes—Rollo stopped by the cottage on his way home from the village pub, and ’twas he who discovered Haverhill is not the Haverhill we thought.”

“Red Jack Rayne,” Rollo stated. “Hero of more battles than I can count.”

“A truly dashing fellow, or so I have read,” Isabella added. “I wish you had brought him directly here, though, for Louise Trevor has stolen the march on us and had him carried to Blackstone Hall. I must say, I think it rather odious of her to simply appropriate the colonel to herself,” she complained. “As if we should not have taken full responsibility for regaining his health.” Her eyes narrowed as Kitty buttered a piece of bread. “I must say that you do not appear overly surprised by this turn of events.”

“Daresay she don’t know who Jack Rayne is,” Roland interposed smoothly, coming to Kitty’s rescue. “In America during the Peninsular campaigns, after all.”

“I collect he must be a soldier.”

“Oh, my dear girl! Not just a soldier! Prinny decorated him with all London watching! Even Rollo left Oxford to see it.”

“An officer, then.”

“More than
that
—much
more than that, my love! As I recall it, one of the papers called him a national treasure!”

“A national treasure? Surely not,” Kitty managed faintly. “He is but one man, after all.”

“Well, he ain’t Wellington,” Rollo conceded, “but he was with Old Douro through much of the war. Wounded more than once, too. Lud, coz, but I could not believe m’eyes when I saw him last night. To think that a little dab of a female like you brought him all the way from London at pistol point.”

“Oh, dear—I hope he will not take us in dislike because of it,” Isabella said nervously. “I had hopes that perhaps Jessica—”

“Dash it, Mama, but she was wed to his cousin!” Roland protested. “Cannot go throwing her at his head ere Haverhill is cold, you know.”

“As if I would do such a thing, Roland Merriman! No, you mistake me. I merely wished that she make his acquaintance. Then, if after the proper time has passed, he should discover—”

“He ain’t going to discover a passion for Jess, Mama. My sister, I know, but the girl’s more than a trifle flighty—a widgeon, in fact. Be more likely to fix his interest with Kit here than Jess—and that ain’t too likely neither.”

“I should hope not,” his mother sniffed. “Catherine is betrothed to Sturbridge, after all, and I am sure that the colonel is not so lost to propriety that he would make sheep’s eyes at another man’s affianced bride. Besides, I cannot think she is in his style at all.” She turned to Kitty. “ ’Tis useless to ask one man what another looks like, for they never seem to know. Is he as handsome as I have read?”

“Well, he is red-headed,” Kitty muttered dryly, “so I must suppose ’tis why he is called Red Jack.”

“But what does he
look
like?” her aunt persisted.

It was an impossible task to describe him without betraying the attraction she’d felt for him, so Kitty hedged again. “I didn’t precisely notice,” she said. “ ’Twas rather dark, after all.”

“Catherine Gordon, never in all my life have I ever known you to have so little opinion on anything,” her aunt declared in disgust. “Can you recall nothing?”

“He has hazel eyes.”

“Hazel eyes. Is he tall? Fat or thin? A mustache, perhaps?”

“Mama, officers cannot sport hair on their faces,” Roland reminded her. “And he is quite tall, not at all fat, and I’m told all the ladies think him exceedingly handsome. There
Leave the poor girl alone—this whole affair has been a dreadful shock to her, I should think.” He rose from the table. “Now, if you will excuse me, I mean to ride over to Blackstone Hall to see how he fares this morning.”

“Well, of all the unfeeling—”

Kitty looked up at him. “I should like to go with you, Rollo.”

“You ain’t ready,” he protested.

“I can be at the door in a trice,” she promised. “I have but to get my wrap and bonnet.”

“But you have not eaten, and I cannot think he would wish to see you after all that has befallen,” her aunt said.

“I am not hungry.”

“And ’tis why you have the headache so often, I’ll be bound. No, I don’t think ’tis wise, my dear.”

“Don’t see why not, I suppose, but you’d best hurry, Kit. I ain’t no hand to wait on a female.” Roland met his mother’s reproachful eyes. “Dash it, but daresay she wants to see Sturbridge, don’t you know?”

At that moment, Jessica came into the dining room, her eyes still heavy from too little sleep. “Hullo, Mama. Rollo. Kit.” Sinking down next to Kitty, she held her head. “Lud, but I cannot think,” she added, groaning.

“Never say you have the headache also?” her mother asked. “I wonder if ’twas something we had for supper, do you think? But then Rollo and I do not seem to be suffering for it,” she decided. “Perhaps you ought to go back to bed.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Jessica mumbled, not wanting to admit that she’d left word with her maid to waken her early. She reached for the teapot.

“You will not credit the news, my love,” Isabella told her, “but Haverhill’s dead.”

“
Dead?
But he was—”

“Dash it, Jess! Watch what you are doing! You are pouring the demned tea on the cloth!” Roland remonstrated with her.

“Well, she can be forgiven. ’Tis the shock, no doubt.” Isabella fixed her daughter with a sober gaze. “Alas, but
’tis true—the baron need trouble you no longer, Jessica.”

The girl blinked. “Oh, I knew—”

“Jess, Rollo has been telling Aunt Bella about how he went to see Haverhill last night,” Kitty cut in quickly. “And only fancy, Haverhill is not our Haverhill, after all, but rather someone called Red Jack,” she added significantly.

“Yes.”

“Mighty calm about it, missy,” Isabella observed, suddenly suspicious.

“Of course she ain’t in raptures yet, Mama! Gel’s got the headache! Take time for it to sink in.”

To Kitty, it was obvious that Jess was still more than a little weasel-bit from the night’s brandy. Taking the teapot from her, she poured a cup and carefully added a chunk of sugar. “You’ll feel more the thing after you drink this down, dearest,” she murmured solicitously. “Rollo and I mean to go to Blackstone Hall, else I’d put a cool cloth on your head for you.”

“I want to go with you.”

“Eh? Now, Jess, there ain’t but two seats! Besides, you got no reason—and I ain’t waiting for two females, I ain’t!”

“Rollo!” Isabella turned to him. “You will, of course, take your sister.”

“Cannot. Ain’t got a carriage right now,” he reminded her. “And I dashed well ain’t going to drive up to see Red Jack with a female a-hanging off the back of a two-seater! Should look like the veriest cake.”

But Kitty had little hope that before the day was out Jessica would have spilled the tale. “I’ll sit on the groom’s step, Rollo,” she said tiredly. “And Jess will hurry, I promise you.”

“No!”

“And after you have delivered them to Blackstone Hall, you will return for me,” Isabella decided. “I am sure that dear Louise will need support in caring for Lord Haverhill.”

“Mama, ’twill be like a damned invasion!”

“Nonsense. Besides, it cannot be thought odd in the least,

for there is Kitty’s wedding to discuss, after all. And I should imagine that while Kitty is occupied with Sturbridge, and I am with Louise, you and Jessica will be more than useful in amusing the colonel.”

“Uh—I don’t think he will wish to be amused, Aunt Bella. When Charles and I saw him yesterday, he was already fevered from the wound,” Kitty pointed out reasonably. “I should imagine that he ought to rest.”

“Exactly so.”

“You also, Rollo.”

“Don’t want to amuse him—want to ask him about Cuidad Rodrigo,” he retorted defensively. “Ain’t the same thing.”

But Isabella would not be moved. “Run up and make yourself presentable, my love,” she told her daughter. “And wear your blue-figured muslin—the one we bought of Mrs. Hill this spring.” She surveyed the girl critically. “I would that you were not so peaked this morning, but there’s naught we can do about that, I suppose. Kitty will have to pinch your cheeks ere you go in.”

“Mama, I can see taking Kit because of Sturbridge,” Rollo complained, “but Jess ain’t got a reason in the world to go.”

“Stuff! Much you know about anything, Roland Merriman!” his sister retorted. “And you will wait while I have Annie do my hair.”

As the two girls hurried upstairs, Isabella shook her head. “Poor child. She does not yet realize the significance of it all, does she?” she said softly.

“The significance is that Red Jack is being invaded,” Rollo muttered glumly. “And he ain’t even up to mounting a defense.”

“ ’Tis no such thing, Roland Merriman,” his mother declared severely. “Though I own I have heard that men are particularly vulnerable to females when they ail.”

“Ain’t a man I know as likes an ailing female, Mama.”

“No—no, you mistake my meaning! Sometimes, Rollo, I think you are a slow top,” she complained. “But it does not signify, I suppose. ’Tis Red Jack who must see Jessica to advantage.”

“Told you—she ain’t in his style.”

“As to that, we shall see. But first we shall have to get past Louise, for I have not the least doubt that she means to guard him like a dragon at the gate. I should expect she will wish to appropriate him to her own consequence, you know. Being that she is daughter to an earl, she seems to feel that ’tis her right to have everything, which I think most unfair of her, for she has not that much to feed her pride. Indeed, if she had not snared Charles’s father, her papa would have gone to debtor’s prison.” She looked up at him, shaking her head. “But ’tis spilled cream now, is it not? One could only wish that Kitty had brought him here first.”