Hello Stranger (The Ravenels #4)(70)

Garrett was only vaguely aware of the whirlwind of preparations taking place around her. She stayed with Ethan in the Ravenels’ formerly elegant library, now a wreckage of sodden, soiled upholstery and stained carpeting. The situation now appeared to be beyond her control. Lord Trenear and West Ravenel were making decisions without her, and she was too weary to try and insert herself into the process.

Ethan gradually awakened from the surgery in great pain, disoriented, and wretchedly ill from the effects of anesthesia and the toxic aftereffects of the Thames. He barely seemed to recognize Garrett, and answered questions only in monosyllables. She did what she could to ease his misery, giving him another injection of morphine, bathing his face with cool water, and sliding a small pillow beneath his head. Sitting at the table, she lowered her head to her folded arms. For a moment, she shut her eyes and felt herself sinking into sleep.

“Doctor,” came Kathleen’s gentle voice.

Garrett jerked her head up, trying to collect herself. “How are you feeling, my lady?”

“Much better, thank you. We’ve sent two of the servants to help your cookmaid pack for herself and your father. Lord Trenear and I have a proposition we would like you to consider.”

“Yes?”

“We had already planned to leave town for the summer. But before retreating to Eversby Priory, we had accepted an invitation to spend a fortnight in Sussex with Pandora’s in-laws, the Duke and Duchess of Kingston. They have a lovely seaside manor with a private sandy cove, and ample room for guests. I think it would do your father some good to come with us, and perhaps take some seawater baths and do a bit of sunning. That way, you’ll only have to concern yourself with nursing Mr. Ransom back to health, instead of having your attention divided.”

“My lady, I could never impose on you that way, not to mention the Duke and Duchess—”

“After the way you saved Pandora’s life, they would be delighted to welcome your father. He would be treated like royalty.”

Rubbing her sore eyes, Garrett said distractedly, “He’s my responsibility. I don’t think—”

“There’s also the matter of his safety,” Kathleen pointed out gently. “If any trouble should arise over Mr. Ransom’s presence at Eversby Priory, I’m sure you would prefer your father to be kept out of harm’s way.”

“Perhaps you’re right. I’ll have to ask my father what he would prefer. However, I doubt he’ll like the idea of staying with strangers.”

“Your cookmaid would accompany him, of course.” Kathleen regarded her with a warm, concerned gaze. “I’ll bring him to you as soon as he arrives, and you can discuss it.”

“He’ll want to go with me,” Garrett said. “I’m all he has.”

But, when Stanley Gibson arrived at Ravenel House and the choice before him was laid out, his reaction wasn’t exactly what Garrett had expected.

“A holiday at the seashore with a duke?” her father exclaimed, looking befuddled. “Me, a man who’s never sea-bathed in his life? A constable, hobnobbing with upper-class toffs, eating dinner off gold dishes and drinking fancy French wine?”

“I understand, Papa,” Garrett said. “You don’t have to—”

“By Jove, I’ll accept!” he exclaimed heartily. “If the duke wants my company, he shall have it. I suppose it will do him good to spend time with a man like me, learn a thing or two about my years on the beat.”

“Papa,” Garrett began in muted alarm, “I don’t think the duke specifically requested—”

“All settled, then,” Eliza broke in hastily. “Wouldn’t do to disappoint a duke, would it? You and I will have to brace up and go to Sussex, Mr. Gibson, to humor His Grace—‘Do what ye can for other people,’ Mum always says. Come now, the housekeeper has a room for you to rest in ’til we leave for our train in the morning.”

Before Garrett could utter a word of protest, the pair had bustled out of the library.



With a speed and efficiency that was nothing short of miraculous, the Ravenels had acquired every item on Garrett’s list before dawn. Ethan was carefully strapped into a stretcher, which was carried out by a pair of footmen and the earl himself, to the waiting ambulance cart behind the mews. The sky was unrelieved black, the only light coming from streetlamps that cast crooked shadows across the pavement.

Sitting beside Ethan in the covered cart, Garrett could see very little of their route or direction. West had told her that they were going to a private railway station just south of London, where they would board a special train without being observed, and bypass the usual permissions and restrictions. Extra precautions had been taken for guarding crossings and securing facing points, which would be timed to allow the train to run without stoppages.

A single horse pulled the ambulance cart at a measured pace. Despite the vehicle’s shock-absorbing springs, Ethan was jostled and jarred until stifled groans escaped him. Unable to imagine what hell he was enduring, Garrett held his hand, not letting go even when his grip turned bone-crushingly tight.

The cart slowed as they came to a place so dark and quiet that it seemed as if they had entered some remote forest. Peeking beneath the hem of the cart’s canvas covering, Garrett saw towering gates covered with ivy, and ghostly sculptures of angels, and solemn figures of men, women, and children with their arms crossed in resignation upon their breasts. Graveyard sculptures. A stab of horror went through her, and she crawled to the front of the cart to where West Ravenel was sitting with the driver.