AnchorandStorm (9 page)

“Oooo, those sneaky wee beasties! Wait here for me while I chase them off.”

Raymond stepped forward. “That’s all right, Lady Callander, I can help Uncle on the steps.”

Emily hesitated, but Edgar laughed and gave her a gentle push. “Go on, or you’ll have no ‘neeps’, as you call them, left to eat.”

Emily ran to the turnip patch, flapping her cape. “Away, away wi’ ye, ye nasty varmints, or we’ll serve you up wi’ the neeps.” She watched the rabbits scatter in all directions. “Well, I’ve run them off for a little while at least.”

She turned back toward the terrace—just in time to see Edgar fall headfirst down the steps.

Chapter Seven

“I’ll be fourteen next month, Angus.”

“Will ye now?” He glanced down at the boy sitting next to him polishing a saddle. He reached over and tousled Willie’s dark brown curls. “Ye’re growin’ up too fast, lad.”

“I’ve been thinkin’…”

When the boy hesitated, Angus asked, “Aye? And what have ye been thinkin’?”

“Well…Lord Callander takes good care of me and my folks, but….”

“But?”

“But I’ve been thinkin’ I’d like to see some of the world.”

Angus felt a chill of fear over what the boy would say next.

When Willie spoke, his words came out in a rush. “I’m goin’ to join the regiment.”

“No,” Angus said firmly, “you are not.”

“Why not?”

“Ye’re yer mother’s only son. Ye’ll break her heart if you leave.”

“I won’t be gone forever. I’ll come home when my stint is up.”

“Sure of that, are ye? Listen to me, lad.” He stood up, towering over the boy and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Ye’ll see more than the world. Ye’ll see pain and blood and death. And ye’ll learn there are
worse
things than death. Ye might even—”

The scream came from the garden of the house and Angus knew instantly it was Em’s. He took off running, with Willie following close behind. They charged through the side gate and up the main pathway.

Angus could not believe the scene before him.

Lord Callander lay at the foot of the terrace, with his head on the ground and his legs still on the steps. Em sat next to him, stroking his face and calling his name, begging him to wake up. Lord and Lady Stockdale stood at the top of the steps and watched. They made no move to assist their uncle.

By the time Angus reached them, the rest of the staff had come running out of the house. Weston was the only one with status enough among the servants to even think of touching their master and he was the first one to reach him. He began to lift Lord Callander.

“
No!
” Angus yelled. “Don’t move him. He may have an injury to his neck.”

Weston bristled at being given a command by a groom. “What are we to do then, leave him lie here?”

Angus didn’t have time to worry about the manservant’s feelings. Nodding at Weston, he said, “You and Hamish, go and bring the door off the pantry. Willie, take Jezebel, ride into town for the doctor.” As the boy nodded and started to run off, Angus called after him, “And don’t come back without him!”

“Is he going to be all right?” Em’s voice was so soft, Angus almost didn’t hear her.

He wanted to reassure her, but even as he opened his mouth to say “Yes” the pain and fear in her sky blue eyes stopped him. He couldn’t lie to her. “I don’t know,” he whispered. When she covered her mouth to muffle a sob, he hurried to try to give her some hope to cling to. “It’s too soon to tell, milady. Let us wait and see what the doctor says.”

A short while later, Weston and Hamish brought the door. At Angus’ direction, they laid it against the steps and, in one motion, moved Lord Callander onto it. Then they each took hold of a corner, but they needed one more man.

Angus looked up at Lord Stockdale. “You.” Gesturing with his head, he said, “Take that corner.”

The man looked indignant at Angus giving him orders but lifted his edge of the door, nonetheless. They carried Lord Callander upstairs to his bedchamber and slid him, again in one motion, onto the bed. Lord Stockdale turned to Em and said, “Oh my poor dear.” He put his arm around her shoulders and Angus saw her stiffen. “No matter what happens you know I will take care of you. Have no fear.” From the intonation of the man’s voice, there was no mistaking his meaning.

The sound of a sharp inhalation of breath made Angus turn to his right. Lady Stockdale stood just inside the door, staring at her husband with a look of pure hatred. Then she turned and flounced out of the room.

Em had her eyes closed and couldn’t see the leer on Lord Stockdale’s face, but Angus could. He clenched his fists to keep from punching the bastard.

Em opened her eyes and took a deep breath, her nostrils flared. “Leave this room, Raymond,” she said slowly, emphasizing each word.

Stockdale gaped at having been spoken to like a child in front of the servants. Angus had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

But his laughter died when he saw Stockdale’s look of cold anger and he wished Em had not antagonized the man. Stockdale was a prick and who knew what he might do for revenge.

Without another word, Stockdale left the room.

When Raymond left his uncle’s room after being so rudely dismissed by Emily, he saw Caroline just going into her bedroom. He hurried after her, intending to speak to her about what had happened and to make plans for their future—which to him seemed bright indeed. As he got to her door, however, he distinctly heard the latch click as she locked it.

He went quickly through his own bedchamber, then through the sitting room that divided it from Caroline’s. But he heard her lock that door too. “Caro, we must talk.” There was no answer from the other side. He jiggled the handle as if that would do any good.

Damn the woman
, he thought. He was doing this for her as well as for himself. She liked the good life and he had tried desperately to give it to her. So desperately that they were only a few pounds away from bankruptcy and in debt up to their eye sockets. If his uncle didn’t die soon they would be forced to begin selling the silver plate.

Surely he would die now. And Raymond would be earl. If Emily were pregnant, it didn’t matter to him. Until the child was born, she would be dependant upon him and oh how he would enjoy that. If it was a girl, no problem. If it was a boy, well, many babies die in infancy.
As do their mothers.
But he didn’t want to think about that. He wanted to think about Emily and how she would have to beg him for every crumb of food and every rag on her back. Oh yes, he would enjoy that.

* * * * *

Fen sat on the window seat for a long time, trembling. She could not have seen what she thought she just saw.
Ye’re stupid, Fen, everyone has told ye that.

“What are ye doin’ sittin’ here, child?” Her mother hurried down the hall toward her. “Come and help. The master has been hurt.”

“I know, I—” Fen stopped. No one, not even her mother, would believe her if she said that man had tripped his uncle and made him fall down the stairs. No, she must have seen it wrong.

Her mother was already past her. “I’m coming, Mama,” Fen said.

Weston had shooed Hamish and the women servants out of the room so that he could remove his master’s clothing. Angus supported Lord Callander’s head while they took off his jacket and shirt. Then together they worked his pants down over his hips, taking care not to jostle him overmuch. He and Weston each took one leg and peeled down his stockings. Startled, Angus stopped for a moment and stared.

He had never really noticed how thin and shriveled Lord Callander’s legs had become. It was no wonder he had fallen down the steps. He was amazed the man could walk at all.

He darted a quick glance at Em, but she was still totally absorbed with her husband, holding his hand and stroking it against her cheek. Then she took her handkerchief out of her sleeve, moistened a corner of it with her tongue and began to wipe his face. For the first time, Angus noticed the swelling on the side of Callander’s forehead and the blood still trickling down into his hair.

He stepped out into the hall, not surprised to see the other servants lingering there, waiting for news. “Fen,” he said, “bring some very cold water and some cloths, please. Hamish, we need more firewood for this room, lots of it, please and then if ye could keep watch for Willie and the doctor?”

“Aye, Angus,” they both said in unison, never questioning his right to take charge in this time of crisis.

“How is he?” asked Essie.

Angus shook his head. “He’s still unconscious. I’ll stay with her until the doctor comes.”

Essie nodded and, wiping away tears with her apron, went downstairs.

Angus went back into the room and stoked the glowing coals of the fire, then added more wood. Once he felt the room heating up, he went to the bedside and gently laid his hand on Em’s shoulder. “Let me take yer cloak, milady,” he said.

Em allowed him to remove her cloak, still not taking her gaze from Lord Callander. Angus might not have been in the room for all the attention she paid to him. He tried not to let it bother him, but he couldn’t deny that it did.

His thoughts were interrupted when Fen returned with the water and cloths.

“Thank you, Fen,” Em said. She wet a cloth and wiped the blood from Callander’s face. Then she wet another one and laid it on his forehead. “Edgar, my love, wake up. Please wake up.” Through it all, Angus noticed that her eyes were still dry.

He went to sit in the chair by the hearth, while Weston began to pace the room. He kept the fire going with the wood Hamish brought in from time to time. The mantle clock ticked away the hours, as they waited for the doctor to come.

The room grew dark as night came on and Weston lit the lamps around the bed. The older man’s face was ashen and he looked as if he had aged ten years in the past few hours.

“Go to yer bed, Weston. I’ll look after them.”

He glanced at Angus, then at Em and said, “No.” As he started pacing again, Angus saw him sway, then catch himself by grasping the bedpost.

“Ye’re dead on yer feet, man.” Angus jumped up and took him by the shoulders, but Weston shrugged him off.

“I’ll not leave you alone with her,” he said under his breath. “Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her?”

“For Christ’s sake, Weston, what do ye think I’d do to her wi’ her husband lyin’ there on the bed?”

“Neither of you need stay with me.”

Both men turned in her direction. Weston seemed as surprised as Angus to hear her speak to anyone other than Lord Callander.

At that moment, there was a knock on the door. Angus went to open it and ushered the doctor inside.

“Please wait outside, my lady, while I examine him,” Dr. Stevenson said.

“No, I’ll no’ leave him.”

Dr. Stevenson looked up at Weston, but the older man still held onto the bedpost, his head bowed. Then the doctor turned to Angus, who shook his head. “She needs to stay.”

“Very well.” Dr. Stevenson examined Edgar from head to toe—looking into his eyes, tapping his elbows and knees, poking his fingers and toes with a pin. As far as Angus could see, there was no reaction to any of the tests and the doctor’s face gave nothing away.

Finally, Dr. Stevenson straightened up and sighed. Em looked up at him with hope in her eyes. “Lady Callander, your husband has a severe concussion.”

Em gasped and, with a trembling voice, asked, “Will he be all right?”

“I cannot say, my lady. Only time will tell.”

“Can ye no’ do something?” Em asked, but Angus knew from experience there was little anyone could do…except wait.

The doctor said, “If he begins to show signs of bleeding into the brain, I can do trephines to drain the blood—”

At that point, the dam burst. Em gave a cry that sounded as if it had come from the depths of a horrific nightmare and tears poured down her cheeks.

A surge of anger swept through Angus’ whole body. He wanted to believe it was all an act for the doctor’s benefit, but he couldn’t do so. He had to admit to himself that she loved her husband and any dreams he had of her being with him, loving him, were dashed in that moment.

“I will stay the night if you wish, my lady, and re-examine him in the morning,” the doctor offered.

Em looked up and nodded, wiping her tears away with the heel of her hand. “Yes, Dr. Stevenson, I would appreciate that very much. Angus, would ye ask Mrs. Porter to prepare a room for the doctor?”