Authors: Rhonda Woodward
Uncle David, on the other hand, was much more jovial and interested in the goings-on of his family. He loved to hunt and entertain, and despite his sometimes gruff manner, he could not deny his wife, daughter, or niece anything they requested of him.
Bella knew that since Tommy was the heir to the earldom, her uncle took an even more particular interest in his brother’s family. This was just one more reason for Papa to resent what he considered his brother’s meddling in his affairs. Papa was also sensitive over the fact that his father, the fifth Earl of Penninghurst, had not been overly generous to his second son in his will.
Because of this occasional friction, Bella was often the buffer between her father and uncle.
“Enough of London.” The earl waved away the tired
subject. “I was hoping that when you had a little time, you might come over to the Park and have a word with Michaels. He has gone off again with some strange plan for the gardens. Elizabeth and I don’t like it, but you know he pays us no mind.”
Bella smiled with exasperated indulgence at her uncle. Her aunt and uncle seemed to find it almost impossible to gainsay their own servants. It was often left to Bella to coax and cajole, or outright demand, that a defiant servant do his masters’ bidding.
Before she could respond, their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the front door. “Probably another neighbor trying to gawk at my patient,” Bella predicted.
To her surprise, Robert Fortiscue stood on the doorstep. Bella’s blue eyes went wide and she felt a flush coming to her cheeks. She said nothing for a moment as he doffed his hat and greeted her.
Bella looked at his very pale, very romantic features with pleasure. His blond hair was slightly tousled and his eyes a lighter blue than her own. He was an inch or so taller than she, and she often described his delicate-looking hands as “artistic.”
“Mr. Fortiscue!” she finally said. “Won’t you come in? My uncle and I were just having our tea.” Bella smiled her pleasure at his arrival and stood back to let him enter.
“How kind of you, Miss Tichley,” he said with a flourishing bow before turning to her uncle.
“Lord Penninghurst! How good to see you! How well you look.” Robert’s tone was almost lilting.
“How do you do, Fortiscue,” the earl said in a measured tone before rising and shaking the younger gentleman’s hand. He had the feeling that he might break Robert’s fingers if he gripped them too hard. The earl cast a quizzical glance toward his niece, who was gazing at Fortiscue with unabashed admiration. The earl did not understand it; his niece usually showed such superior judgment in all things.
That was, until Robert Fortiscue began to exhibit a particular interest in her.
At first the family had thought Bella’s usual good sense would surface and she would dismiss the young man. But, to everyone’s surprise, she seemed to enjoy his attentions.
The one thing he and his younger brother agreed upon, the earl thought with some asperity, was that Robert Fortiscue was full of fustian and flummery.
Still, it was very unlike his levelheaded niece to be taken in by such a sapskull, the earl thought as he watched Bella practically hang on every gesture Fortiscue made.
He had discussed Bella’s uncharacteristic behavior with his wife and daughter recently, and they seemed to find it more understandable than he did. Triss believed she knew why Bella was partial to Fortiscue.
“She likes him because he is so undemanding and easy to please,” she had explained one morning over breakfast.
“What does that have to do with anything?” the earl had questioned through a mouthful of toast and jam.
“Well, you have to admit, my dear,” his wife had interjected, “we are always relying on Bella to smooth everything over. She not only runs her father’s household, but she helps us with ours also.”
“How do you mean?” the earl asked, rather dumbfounded by his wife’s comment.
“For instance, last month when you insulted Cook and he had given notice, whom did you call upon to fix it all?”
“Bella,” the earl stated, beginning to understand where his wife was leading.
“Yes, Bella,” she continued. “We are always making demands on her. Why, I cannot plan a house party without Bella. Triss would have scandalized the countryside long ago if Bella had not extricated her from one scrape after another.”
“Oh, Mother,” Triss had protested in a petulant tone.
“You know it’s true,” Lady Penninghurst had told her daughter in a scolding tone. “No wonder she is partial to that bland, unexciting blunderbuss.”
Watching his niece now, the earl believed his wife and daughter were correct in their assessment of the situation.
After they reseated themselves, Bella looked again at Robert with a serene smile gracing her lovely features. She had not seen him for several weeks and had missed his good-natured visits.
He was dressed in a very tightfitting coat of blue wool and dark brown trousers. Bella admired the shine of his boots as he accepted a cup of tea from her.
Casting a harried glance at her uncle, Bella hoped he would not be sandoffish to Robert. She was very aware that Uncle David seemed to have the same erroneous opinion of Robert as her papa did.
Even though she fully intended to marry Robert Fortiscue, Bella had to own to herself that she did not find him perfect. Indeed, the way he held his pinky finger up in the air while he sipped his tea was rather irritating. Feeling rather petty for her observation, Bella dismissed from her mind this critique of her intended. After all, no one was perfect.
But still, it was very strange to Bella that her family could not see Robert’s finer qualities. Could they not see how convenient and practical it would be for her to reside at Oakdale? Sometimes Bella thought her family displayed a severe lack of common sense.
Robert cleared his throat and asked after everyone at Penninghurst Park before turning to Bella and asking after her father and brother. When he had dispensed with these formalities, he turned his questioning to the mysterious stranger.
“What is this about young Tommy finding a half-dead chap in your garden? The whole village can speak of nothing else.”
Bella explained to him the events that had brought the man to the house.
“The doctor is due back this afternoon,” she said as she finished the tale. “The stranger does not seem to be any worse, thank goodness, but I cannot tell if he is improving.”
“Heavens! Miss Tichley, what a nine days’ wonder! Have you no clue as to his identity?” he questioned as he nibbled delicately on a biscuit.
“Not a notion. My uncle thinks the gentleman may have dropped from the moon.” Bella smiled at her uncle, who was scowling at Robert’s raised pinky finger.
“What is being done to find out who the man is?” Robert turned his questioning pale blue eyes to the earl.
“I have several men scouring the countryside as we speak. That’s what’s being done,” the earl blustered at Fortiscue, taking umbrage to the implied criticism in the younger man’s tone.
Robert blinked several times at the earl and seemed to shrink back into his chair.
Groaning inwardly at her uncle’s defensiveness, Bella said soothingly, “Yes, Uncle, we know that everything that is humanly possible is being done to discover who the man is.”
“Well, as I have traveled extensively through the country, and since you say the man appears to be a gentleman, mayhap I should have a look at him. It is possible that I might recognize him.”
Bella hesitated a moment before casting aside her previous resistance to visitors. After all, there really was no harm in letting Robert see the man. And, though improbable, it would be very good luck if Robert did happen to recognize the stranger, she concluded.
Rising from her chair, Bella nodded to Robert. “Please come this way.”
Uncle David followed, and the three of them proceeded to Bella’s bedchamber.
Bella watched Robert’s face for any signs of recognition as the blond man looked down at the invalid. She saw Robert’s pale brows go up.
“Yes?” Bella questioned. “Do you know him?”
“Er… no. I am just surprised at what a ruffian he looks. He’s quite a big chap, isn’t he?”
Bella felt that Robert’s tone was disapproving, and she wondered at it.
“Well, certainly he has grown a bit of a beard, but I would not say that he looks like a ruffian.” She ended this statement on a softer tone when she realized she was responding a little defensively.
Robert looked back down at the patient and sniffed. “I must say, Miss Tichley, does he have to remain here? You know nothing about this man. He could be a highwayman.”
Bella looked at Robert in surprise. “No, he cannot be moved, Mr. Fortiscue. He is not yet out of danger. Besides, I believe him to be a gentleman.”
Mr. Fortiscue sniffed again.
With that, the three of them returned to the front room.
Uncle David did not sit down, but turned to his niece.
“I thank you for your hospitality, niece, but I must return to the Park.”
Bella thought her uncle spoke a little too loudly as he cast Robert a significant look.
“Oh, yes, I must take my leave also,” Robert said quickly as he took the earl’s meaning.
Smiling to herself, Bella retrieved the gentlemen’s things. Her uncle was correct in his subtle hint that it would be improper for Robert to remain alone with Bella.
But she was very pleased that Robert had come, and she said good-bye to him as warmly as she could.
He kissed her fingers delicately. “I shall call upon you soon, if I may.”
“You may,” Bella said, smiling into his pale blue eyes.
It was well past midnight when Tommy rose from his pallet at the foot of the stranger’s bed. He had been roused by the sounds of the stranger’s low moaning and tossing about as if he were trying to get out of the bed.
“Hold still, sir,” Tommy said before padding out of the room. Bella was using a spare room while the invalid occupied hers.
“Bella,” he whispered to the shapeless form under the mound of blankets.
Instantly she sat up, pushing her dark braid off her shoulder.
“Tommy? Is he worse?” Bella was already pushing aside the heavy blankets and reaching for her woolen robe.
“Yes. He’s making noises and trying to get up again,” Tommy informed her with a half-stifled yawn as he followed his sister back into the bedroom.
To her deep concern, Bella saw that the stranger was half out of the bed, his broad, deeply muscled chest gleaming in the firelight.
Bella did not bother to stifle her gasp of distress at the red stains of fresh blood evident on the bandages on the stranger’s left shoulder.
“Tommy, get my things and the clean bandages. Hurry,” she urged as she rushed over to the big man who was still struggling to rise.
“You mustn’t! Please, sir, you will damage your wound
further.” She tried to keep her voice calm but firm as she put her hands on his chest and gently pushed him down. His skin felt hot to her touch, she noted with dismay. She might as well have been pushing against the oak tree in the front drive for all the effect her efforts had on him. How could he still be so strong when he was so ill? She shook her head in wonder at his strength.
“Leave off,” he said in a growl, trying to push her aside. “I am a sitting duck here. I won’t have a chance against the bastards.”
Bella frowned again. He had said much the same on the previous night. But before, his ranting had not been this intelligible. Bella glanced to the door, wishing Tommy would hurry. She knew she could not handle the stranger by herself.
She decided to try reasoning with him, since he seemed a little more lucid, despite his raging fever. Bracing herself, she took advantage of his trembling legs and pushed with all her might. He fell back into a sitting position on the bed. He continued to struggle with her, trying to push her from him. Shoving his hands away as best she could, Bella grabbed his face between her hands and forced him to look up at her.
His dark gray eyes glittered up at her feverishly, angrily.
“Sir, you are safe here. You must lie down now, or you will tear your wound open further.” Gently she pushed the silky strands of his thick black hair away from his damp, hot forehead. “You have been here for three days. No one has come for you. You have eluded your attackers. We will not let anyone harm you. You are safe here.”
He had ceased his struggles, but did not lie back on the bed.
Her voice penetrated his fever-fogged brain. Her voice: low and clear and melodious, with a slight huskiness that was very memorable. Blinking, he glanced around the little room. A vague memory of the last few days began to come back to him.
He remembered this girl with the beautiful voice and gentle hands. Her hands still held his face, and he looked up at her, trying to make out her features in the firelit shadows. He now recalled that this girl and her family had
taken him in and nursed him. Without a doubt, he knew he would be dead in the shrubbery if not for her.
At this moment he was not sure what shrubbery or exactly why he would be dead, but he knew this girl was important.
“Please, sir, lie back now. I am not strong enough to constrain you in your delirium.”
He felt the pressure of her hands upon his chest and looked down to see her slender fingers splayed against him. Distantly he wondered how many times he had seen a woman’s hand upon him like this. But never under these circumstances, he mused in fevered distraction.
“What is your name?” He wanted a name to put with the voice that spoke so soothingly to him in his fever.
“Arabella, sir, and yours?” she said softly, well pleased that he no longer seemed delirious.
He allowed her to push him back against the pillows and place the blankets over him.
To her relief, Tommy had finally returned with the things from her sewing kit and the strips of torn-up nightgown.
As gently as she could, she began to cut through the bloody bandages.
“West…” he forced out through clenched teeth as pain stabbed through his body and he slipped again into unconsciousness.