The Captivating Lady Charlotte (Regency Brides: A Legacy of Grace #2)(27)

A slam of the carriage door suggested he was obeyed, and he slapped the reins. The horses soon picked up pace. Ashton lay only a couple of miles away, the Abbey another three beyond the small village. He wanted speed, but in this dim light, with only the faintest rays of sunset rimming the horizon behind, he couldn’t afford further misadventure.

William maintained a taut hold, huddling into his coat, the evening air holding a chill that made him wish for the protection of his greatcoat. Within a mile of their unforeseen stop his teeth were chattering, his fingers so cold they could barely grasp the reins.

“Heavenly Father, guide us, protect us. Please protect Barrack …”

He slapped the reins and the horses found further momentum, as if sensing his desperation to find shelter and help. In the distance he could see a glimmering light.

“Thank You, God.”

By the time they reached the village boundary, the horses had assumed a walking pace. By the time they reached the Old Crown, he’d managed to halt them.

“Hello there!”

The inn door opened, and a swarthy-faced man appeared. His jaw sagged. “Your Grace!”

“Send for the doctor.” Shivers wracked his body. “We need him.”

Within minutes Barrack was being tended in the inn’s snug before a freshly lit fire—and a gaggle of interested spectators.

The villagers’ commentary swirled around him: “Looking like demons were a-chasin’ ’em. And ’im, a dook!”

“Never thought I’d see the day!”

“Aye, but there’s something smoky ’bout this, mark my words.”

William slumped in his chair, fingers wrapped around a mug of hot spiced ale, watching the doctor continue his ministrations. The villagers were right; something was suspicious. Who had done such a thing? Why?

His skin prickled. Was Jensen correct in assuming this attack was against him?

“Your Grace?”

William placed the mug down and pushed to his feet. “How is he?”

“Not good. He should be removed someplace where he can remain undisturbed for some time. I’m afraid it might be a very long time.” Dr. Lansbury looked up sharply. “Has he family?”

“No. We at Hartwell are Barrack’s family.”

“Hmm.”

“We will take care of him there.” William scrubbed a hand over his weary face. “I gather he can stay here until you deem it safe for travel?”

“Of course.” The doctor peered at him, frowned. “You look a trifle poorly yourself, sir.”

“I feel a trifle poorly.” William managed a hollow smile.

“Perhaps it might be best you should rest for a while. Stay the night also.”

And miss his own comfortable lodgings? He fought a groan, the effort causing him to totter.

“Sir.” Jensen cupped his elbow, leading him back to his chair, gently shoving him down. “The doctor is correct. You’re in no fit state to return.”

“I suppose if we stay then we’ll remain best apprised on how Barrack fares.” William glanced at the landlord. “I gather you’ve adequate space?”

“Of course, sir. And very nice accommodation it is, too, if I might say so. Just … how many more of you are there?”

“I travel light. Just us four.” William motioned to Jensen and the footman.

The landlord beamed. “No trouble at all, then. You’ll have the best rooms.” He moved to the door, then paused. “I gather you’ll be requiring a meal?”

William nodded, smiling inwardly at the way the man’s eyes lit up, as if he had already started counting the coins soon coming his way.

That night, sleep took a long time coming, not least because the bed was the most uncomfortable he’d ever had the misfortune to lie upon. Dim light peeked around thin curtains, splintering up the wall to show the dusty lacework of ancient spiderwebs. He forced himself to relax in the method once taught him by Dr. Blakeney, physician to the royals and the very rich: clench his hands, shoulders, his back, legs, and feet, before slowly releasing the pressure, section by section, limb by limb, as he deliberately exhaled. Once he’d completed the routine, he intentionally forced his thoughts from the welter of confusion and thought on good things.

Good things, like the fact the doctor had been home and not out attending a birth in the rural byways of Northamptonshire. Good things, like the fact the meal tonight had at least been hot. Good things, like tomorrow they would be at home again at last. Good things …

He yawned, closed his eyes, and dreamed of a girl with compassion in her eyes, and candor on her lips.





CHAPTER TEN


Hampton Hall

June 8


CHARLOTTE’S NOSE WRINKLED as the sound of retching reached through the closed door.

“Poor pet,” Mrs. Florrick murmured, casting Charlotte a worried glance. “She’s barely kept a bite down these past days.”

The door opened, and Lavinia emerged, hair bedraggled, looking wan and thin. Her maid bustled past them, holding a chamber pot.

“Poor thing,” Mrs. Florrick said again. “Come lie down, my lady. You really should—”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Florrick,” Lavinia said, with a most unconvincing smile. “I would much prefer to return downstairs. If I stay here, I shall only mope, and feel even more wretched.”