The Husband Season (20 page)

Adam went forward. ‘Good day, sir. I’d be obliged if you would call off your dog. He is frightening the horses. I fear they will lash out and do some damage.’

‘They’d best not,’ he said, but he called the dog to heel. It went to him obediently, but remained alert.

‘Are you the owner of this barn?’ Adam asked him.

‘The tenant. What are you doing here? And stealing my hay, an’ all. I’ll hev the law on yer.’

‘We will pay for it, of course. I am afraid our horses were terrified by the storm and we thought it best to seek shelter. We will move on as soon as the weather eases.’

‘Tha’s all very well, but if you’ve damaged anythin’...’

‘I am sure we have not, except to bring a little mud in on the wheels. Naturally I will pay for the inconvenience.’

‘And who might you be?’

‘Viscount Kimberley of Saddleworth. This is...’ he indicated Sophie still holding Swift’s head ‘...my cousin, Miss Cavenhurst. We are travelling to Norfolk.’

‘I doubt you will get there tonight,’ the man said. ‘Never seen a storm like it and the roads are awash. Shouldn’t be surprised if the river hev burst its banks.’

‘Until we are able to move on, do you think you could provide us with some food and something to drink?’ Adam appeared unruffled by this news. ‘We had planned to stop at the Rutland Arms in Newmarket for a meal, but if you are right, we might take some time reaching there.’

‘I’ll go and talk to the missus.’ He stomped out into the rain, followed by his dog.

‘Do you think he is right?’ Sophie asked Adam. ‘Will the river have flooded?’

‘I don’t know. When the rain stops I’ll go and reconnoitre.’ He turned to the coachman. ‘In the meantime, unharness the horses, will you, Mr Brandon? Let them have a rest. Give him a hand, Alfred, will you?’

While the two men obeyed, Adam went to the door and looked up at the leaden sky. The wind, which had blown the clouds up so rapidly, had dropped and there was not a breath to carry them away. The rain was pounding on the roof of the barn and filling up the dents and hollows in the farm yard until it looked like a pond. Thankfully the building was watertight, but he was aware of a sharp drop in the temperature and the ladies were shivering, especially Sophie because she had draped her shawl over Swift’s back.

‘Put your shawl back on, Miss Cavenhurst,’ he told her. ‘You need it more than the mare.’

‘Would you address a cousin so formally?’ she asked.

‘You are not really my cousin.’

‘But you told the farmer I was.’

‘It was easier than trying to explain.’

She smiled. ‘Then it had better be Sophie, don’t you think?’

He laughed aloud. ‘Sophie,’ he said. ‘But for that to be convincing I must be Adam.’

She had been thinking of him in those terms for some time, though she had never uttered his name aloud. ‘Very well...Adam.’

The farmer returned, carrying a rough cloth coat and a pile of sacks. ‘Will you come up to the house, my lord?’ he said, handing Sophie the coat and distributing the sacks to the others. ‘My Molly is making a meal for you. If you follow me, I’ll lead you over the driest bits.’

As far as Sophie could see there were no dry bits. She draped the coat over her head, which was thick enough to keep off the worst of the rain. She went to step outside, knowing she would get wet feet, but before she could do so, Adam had scooped her up in his arms and was carrying her. ‘My lord...’

‘Adam,’ he corrected her, marching behind the farmer. ‘I am wearing boots, you are not, so no argument.’ Joe, who was also wearing stout boots, had taken his cue from Adam and picked Bessie up and, despite her not-very-convincing protests, was right behind them.

Sophie clasped her arms about Adam’s neck and leaned into him. He had a lean, hard body, broad shoulders and narrow hips. She could feel his muscles flexed beneath his clothes and wondered idly what he would look like stripped. She remembered his bruises, but either they had healed remarkably quickly or he was able to ignore the pain. ‘Now who is savouring the moment,’ she murmured under her breath.

He chuckled. ‘I am. It is surprising how appealing a wet face and a fusty overcoat can be.’

She had not realised she had spoken loud enough for him to hear, and the glow in the core of her intensified. The warmth of his body enveloped her, the smell of him, a mixture of soap and horse and honest sweat, filled her nostrils. Her heartbeat tuned itself to his. She felt moulded to him, two bodies in one. It was such a lovely sensation she gave herself up to it. But not for long because they were at the door of the farmhouse and Adam was being ushered inside by the farmer. Adam set her down and they were two separate beings once more. He took the coat from her shoulders and handed it back to the farmer.

‘Come this way, my lord,’ the man said, leading the way along a narrow passage into a room that was evidently the best parlour. It felt cold and smelled musty as if it were little used. There were two stuffed winged chairs before an empty grate, a rather battered sofa, a couple of hard-backed chairs and a table. A shelf displayed cheap ornaments, and there was an embroidered text hanging from a nail above the mantel.

Bessie was shivering violently and Sophie feared she had caught a chill. She turned to the farmer. ‘Mr...what is your name?’

‘Brown, my lady.’

‘Mr Brown,’ she said, ignoring his mistake. ‘I fear my maid is not very well. Do you think she could sit by your fire and warm herself? A hot drink might help, too.’

‘We would all appreciate a hot drink,’ Adam said. ‘But look after the maid first.’

‘Come, miss,’ the man said, addressing Bessie.

She glanced at Sophie, who nodded. ‘Go on.’

‘I’ll go, too,’ Joe said. He went after the farmer and Bessie, leaving Adam and Sophie alone.

‘Where is Mr Farley?’ she asked.

‘He is checking the carriage and horses are out of sight of the road. It would be a trifle inconvenient to find them gone when we want to continue our journey.’

‘Who is likely to be on the road in this?’ She gestured towards the window where the rain was running down in rivulets.

‘If someone was on foot or on horseback, the prospect of riding in the dry might be too much of a temptation.’

‘Surely it is the coachman’s task to see that doesn’t happen?’

‘Yes, but at the moment, he seems to have his hands full with Miss Sadler.’

She laughed. ‘They do seem rather keen on each other.’

‘It is your fault for suggesting she ride on the box.’

‘She was feeling sick and you were chafing at the delay. What else would you have me do?’

‘Oh, I am not criticising you, simply pointing out a fact. And the delay of a few minutes is immaterial now. We are going to be hours behind schedule, and I am afraid even if we start out at once we will be forced to have another night on the road.’

‘It is still raining, but the thunder and lightning have passed.’

‘I had noticed that,’ he said laconically. ‘As soon as we have had something to eat, I will ride ahead on Swift and reconnoitre the ground.’

‘Why not send Mr Farley?’

‘Because he will want to eat and drink and warm himself.’

‘You are very careful of him.’

‘He is careful of me. Treat a man right and he will remain loyal.’

‘You know, you are very like Mark. Not so much in looks, but in your philosophy. It must be a family trait. How close is his relationship with you?’

‘Our mothers were sisters. My mother died when I was at school. She was perfectly well when I was home for the Easter break, but she had gone before I was due home for the summer.’

‘I am sorry. It must have been very hard for you.’

‘It was. I was particularly close to her. She taught me so much about the countryside, about her charitable work, about forgiveness and tolerance...’ His voice cracked and he swallowed hard.

She put out a hand to touch his arm, but did not speak. He looked down at the hand and she withdrew it hastily. ‘I must go and see how Bessie is doing.’ She left him to gather himself in private. If she had stayed a moment longer, she would have put her arms about him to comfort him and that would have been completely the wrong thing to do. A proud man like he was would not have appreciated it.

Bessie was sitting close to the fender in the kitchen with a blanket round her, warming her hands on a hot tankard. The farmer’s wife was working round her, stirring the contents of a large cooking pot that hung above the flames. On the rough table was a board containing bread, a dish of butter and a pile of plates.

‘Mrs Brown, is there anything I can do to help?’ she asked.

‘Gracious me, no, my lady. Please go back to his lordship. I will bring food to you directly. I have given your maid a herbal remedy for I fear she has taken cold. The coachman has gone to fetch her bag. I will make up a bed for her in our spare room. It is used by our grandchildren when they come to stay, but they are not here now.’

It sounded as if she expected her uninvited visitors to stay overnight. Sophie went back to report the fact to Adam. ‘I don’t know where she is going to put us all,’ she said. ‘It is a fairly substantial farmhouse, but I doubt it extends to more than three bedchambers. Besides, I collect you are anxious to be on your way. If Bessie cannot travel, then you had better leave us here and go on without us. Mark will come and fetch us in due course.’

‘Don’t be a ninnyhammer, Sophie.’

‘I am not a ninnyhammer. It is a perfectly sensible suggestion.’

‘It is not. Mark entrusted me to see you safely home and that is what I intend to do. What do you take me for?’

She smiled. ‘Not a ninnyhammer, at any rate.’

‘I apologise for that, but you must see that I could never leave you.’

‘Never?’ she queried, raising her eyebrows at him.

‘You know what I mean. I must go and speak to the good lady of the house.’

* * *

He strode from the room before he said something he would regret. She was really getting inside his skin with her flashes of insight interspersed with outspokenness and brave attempts to flirt with him. She was a strange mixture of naivety and wisdom and he was never quite sure how to respond to her. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

He found Mrs Brown in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches to a homely meal. ‘Madam,’ he began. ‘I asked for food, not a feast, and I fear we have put you to a great deal of trouble...’

‘We have plenty of food, my lord, if not much else. You are welcome. I would not leave a dog out in this weather.’ This statement was borne out by the fact that the mongrel was lying on a rough blanket under the table.

‘My cousin tells me that you are going to find a bed for her maid.’

‘Yes. She i’n’t well. I don’t think she oughta travel until she is better, begging your pardon, my lord.’

‘In that case, we must all stay. My cousin will not go on without her and I will not go on without my cousin.’

‘My lord...’ Bessie protested. ‘I shall manage.’

He turned to look at her, huddled in the corner enveloped in a blanket. Her eyes were puffy and her nose red. ‘We will decide on that tomorrow. It is to be hoped your mistress does not succumb.’ Turning back to their hostess, he said, ‘Do you have a room for Miss Cavenhurst?’

‘Yes, my lord, but...’ She paused and he guessed she was weighing up the prospect of giving up her own bed to one of them.

‘The men will manage in the coach,’ he told her. ‘Someone ought to keep an eye on it, in any case. I will do very well on the sofa.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I am. And you do not need to lay up the table in the parlour. We can all eat in here. We do not want to put you to any more inconvenience than we can help.’

‘Very well, my lord, I’ll do as you say. It will be ready in five minutes.’

‘I will go and fetch the men.’

‘It’s still a-rainin’. Take Mr Brown’s big coat.’ She nodded to where it hung on the back of the door.

He draped it over his shoulders and made his way across the flooded yard and into the barn. Alfred and the coachman were sitting in the coach talking about the dwindling prospects of going on. ‘It’s still rainin’, but there ain’t no more thunder and lightning,’ Joe was saying. ‘I reckon we could make it through.’

‘Through what?’ Adam asked.

‘The flood, my lord,’ Farley replied. ‘I went to take a look. There’s a dip in the road as it goes down to the river. It’s about two feet deep. I rode Swift through it, though she wasn’t keen. The bridge is an old stone one and looked sound to me and the road is passable beyond it.’

‘We are not going on today,’ Adam said. ‘Miss Sadler has caught cold and the good farmer’s wife is making up a bed for her, which means we all have to stay. There is a meal waiting for us in the farm kitchen, so let us go and have it. We will worry about tomorrow when it comes.’

‘I don’t reckon we ought to leave the coach unattended,’ Joe said.

‘Then you stay here and I’ll have something sent out to you. Alfred, come with me.’

They picked their way over the muddy farmyard. The rain was easing and the water was slowly draining away. ‘I reckon it will be gone by tomorrow,’ Farley said. ‘Pity about Miss Sadler.’

‘Yes. Did you hear the horse just after we turned into the barn?’

‘Yes, my lord.’ He grinned. ‘Galloped right past, he did. I wonder how far he got before he twigged he’d lost us.’

Adam laughed. ‘However far it was, he will have been very wet.’

‘Serve him right.’

‘Not a word now.’

They entered the house and made their way to the kitchen, where a substantial meal was set out on the big table. Bessie was no longer there and he assumed she had gone to bed. Mr Brown and Sophie were already seated at the table. She looked up as they entered. ‘Is everything all right?’ she asked.

‘Yes. The coachman is staying with his vehicle. I wonder, Mrs Brown, if I might take something out to him?’

‘I’ll take it,’ Farley said, holding out his hand for the plate their hostess was already filling.

Adam sat down next to Sophie. ‘How is Miss Sadler?’

‘She is feeling rather sorry for herself, but Mrs Brown gave her a herbal remedy to help her to sleep and assures me it will cure anything. I am inclined to believe her. Bessie pulled a sour face when she drank it.’ She paused. ‘I am sorry to be so much trouble to you...’ She almost added ‘my lord’, but remembered in time, they were supposed to be on more familiar terms.