Fenella Miller (11 page)

What the devil was she doing? And with no maid to accompany her—was she so naive that she knew no better than to go into an inn yard on her own? He glared at Lord and Lady Grierson. Could they not see that she had gone? What sort of foster parents were they? Not good enough—obviously. He would have to go after her himself. He had no choice.

His decision made, he sat back and prepared to extricate his mount from the melee of horses waiting behind the starting line for the flag to be dropped. Before he could retreat, the starter’s hand fell and the thirty or so horses leapt forward. Lucifer, trapped, was forced to go with them. He was committed, he had to race, at least until pulling up would not cause carnage.

He leant down, low over his horse’s neck, and dug his heels in hard. The stallion responded lengthening his stride, eager to reach the front. Theo, in the split-second he had had to think, decided to take the lead by forcing his way through the pack and then, when he was clear, he would turn Lucifer away safely and go and find Marianne.

He had completed a full circuit before he had his chance. He could hear the pounding of hooves on the turf, the heavy breathing of the horses, the curses of the riders, but he ignored it all. He was boxed in by two farmers astride massive hunters. To get past he would have to take the outside line but there was no room to squeeze through.

The hunters were neck and neck, neither riders nor mounts prepared to give an inch. Sitting back he pulled hard on the reins. Lucifer responded and shortened his stride from a flat gallop to an extended canter, allowing the horses blocking his path to pull ahead.

Before another rider could steal his place, Theo expertly drove his stallion to the right and kicked him on. With his chestnut nose outstretched, Lucifer shot past the farmers and now there were only three left in front. The horse needed no further encouragement.

Theo galloped past the first, a grey ridden by an officer in full regimentals. Only then did he realize who was leading. Charles on his mare, Bess, was crouched low in the saddle, the horse galloping well within herself, not straining, showing no sign of breaking down like she had the previous year. But the horse a mere half-stride behind was beginning to blow, its rider using his hands and heels vigorously whilst shouting encouragement.

It should be a simple thing to pass the two, then he could leave Charles to take the honours, there was nothing close enough to catch him. The gap between the main group and the leading three was widening with every second.

‘Go Lucifer, go, you can do it!’ He shouted into his mount’s flattened ears and felt the horse surge forward. They drew level with Charles and then were past. All he needed was a lead of a length or two and he could pull aside and allow them to gallop safely by.

But Charles thought the race was being taken from him and desperately urged Bess to go faster, the rider behind him did the same but his horse had nothing left to give and staggered sideways crashing into the mare’s hindquarters bringing them both down with a terrible crash.

Theo felt the impact of the fall and instantly threw himself back, hauling Lucifer’s head up, bringing him brutally back to a canter. He wrenched his mount round, dreading what he would see on the ground behind him.

Matters were far worse than he had feared. The horse that had caused the tragedy was down, its sides heaving as it drew its last breath. There was no sign of the young rider. Bess was up but her nearside leg was raised, its fetlock dangling, obvious to all, that it was broken.

Theo pulled Lucifer into the side as the remaining horses thundered past; no one else stopped to investigate, all were intent on snatching victory. Accidents happened—life went on for the rest.

It was strangely quiet after the horses had gone. Even the noise from the crowd appeared to fade. He dismounted and flipping Lucifer’s reins over he pushed his arm through them.

He walked up to Bess, her head hanging, her eyes rolling in pain. ‘Sorry old girl. I am so sorry. But it is all up with you.’ He had no need to take her reins, she was going nowhere. Then he saw the still form of Charles, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle and blood oozing from a deep wound on his head. His jaw hardened and he clenched his teeth.

It did not look good. Had he, unwittingly, been the cause of it? If he had not gone past, would the accident still have occurred? He pushed the thought away, now was not the time to dwell on such things.

He could hear women sobbing in the distance and the sound of booted feet thudding on the grass. The rescue party were arriving, but too late for the two horses and possibly for both riders. He prayed he was wrong and that at least Charles would survive his injuries. The other man, crushed beneath the weight of his horse—he was a corpse for sure. He didn’t need to investigate to know that.

Lord Grierson arrived, panting but calm. Taking in the scenario with one glance, he assumed command, ignoring Theo, who was doing his best to stand helplessly as would be expected of him. Tom and Billy were at Lord Grierson’s back. ‘Tom, go back and fetch a pistol, you know what you have to do, lad?’

The young man nodded, his expression grim, then turned and ran back towards the waiting crowd. The race had not been completed after all. Stewards had run out onto the grass waving flags and even the most determined of the riders had been forced to rein back.

News of the double tragedy was rapidly passing round the crowd and gradually it fell silent, hats were doffed and slowly the spectators began to trickle away. There would be no further races that Saturday.

‘Lady Grierson must not see this, my lord.’

‘Lady Grierson and my daughters will remain where they are for the moment.’

Theo glanced over his shoulder and saw they stood obediently, faces pinched, no doubt praying Charles was not the rider who had been killed.

Lord and Lady Hawksmith had marched a sobbing Arabella away to their carriage. She was protesting loudly, wanted to wait to see how Charles fared, but they were having none of it.

Theo tossed his reins to a local lad and joined the men trying to roll the carcass of the big bay from the remains of the young man. It was a hard, unpleasant task but it had to be done.

‘Who is the lad?’ Lord Grierson barked at a young man mopping his brow, his face sickly white.

‘It’s William Whittle from over Thorrington way, my lord. His parents will be that upset. He is the only son and the estate is entailed.’

‘Are they here, in the crowd?’

‘No, my lord, they have taken the little girls and gone to visit relatives in Colchester. William would not have competed if they had been present.’

Lord Grierson glanced across at Theo. ‘Sir Theodore, will you go to Colchester and fetch back the Whittle family? Break the news of their son’s death? This young man will show you the way.’

Theo hid his dismay. He could hardly refuse, but he was desperate to find Marianne, to make certain she was unharmed. He also wished to discover what had so overset her she had felt the need to run away.

‘I will go, Lord Grierson, with a sad heart. I am always happy to offer my assistance in a man’s hour of need. To lose a son is a dreadful thing in any circumstances, but to lose an only son is so much worse, is it not?’ He stared over at Charles, being attended to by the doctor whose face was grave.

William Whittle was finally released and the sight of his mangled, bloody limbs was so shocking several men turned away. Lord Grierson was made of sterner stuff. He had the foresight to quickly remove his jacket and cover the body. It would not do for ladies to see it as it was.

Theo did not want to depart until he knew how Charles did. He had also intended to draw Lord Grierson’s attention to the fact that Marianne was missing, but thought better of it. Tom had returned accompanied by Billy, a pistol in his hand. He looked green and not up to the heartrending task he had been allotted. Theo hesitated for a second, knowing his action might reveal more that he wished about his character.

‘Here, Tom, give it to me. I’ll do it.’ He took the gun and holding it hidden behind him walked up to Bess, who was staring, glassy eyed at the ground. Theo patted her neck, whispering soothing words in her ears and, before she realized his intention, the barrel was between her eyes. The bullet killed her instantly. He knew what he was about. The mare’s legs buckled and she dropped like a stone. He handed the empty pistol back to Tom and spoke quietly to him. ‘Miss Devenish is missing, Tom. You are to go and find her. Billy must drive the carriage in your place.’

He moved over to join Lord Grierson standing quietly behind the doctor. ‘Lord Grierson, take Charles back to Bentley Hall. It is nearer and I am sure the doctor will not wish him to be jolted any more than is necessary.’

‘Thank you, my boy. Will you send word to alert your staff? They are bringing a trestle to carry Charles on. This will be smoother than the carriage, and it is no more than a half mile to your house.’

Theo turned back to Tom and Billy. ‘Miss Devenish was heading in the direction of Bentley Hall, go there first Tom. Tell the staff—if she is not there organize a search. Is that clear?’ The young man nodded. ‘Billy, you wait and help them carry Mr Grierson. I will be back as soon as I can. Colchester is no more than six miles from here so I ought to be back long before dusk.’ It was fortuitous that in the drama of the moment no one noticed he appeared to have undergone a personality change.

The young man who was to be his guide introduced himself. ‘Thomas Wright at your service, sir.’

Theo clapped him on the back. ‘Come, Mr Wright, we must not delay.’ He tossed the village boy a sixpence and vaulted back into the saddle. ‘Wright, where will they take the body? Will it go to Thorrington Hall?’

‘There is no undertaker’s here, sir, so there is nowhere else, apart from his own home.’

The doctor straightened and addressed Lord Grierson. ‘Your son is gravely hurt, Lord Grierson. His leg is broken in two places, but that I can set. He will have a limp but will not be lame. However the head wound is more serious. The longer he remains unconscious the more danger there is of permanent damage to the brain, or worse.’

Lord Grierson nodded. ‘It is as I expected. At least he is not dead, Thank God, like that poor boy.’

Dr Jones supervised the loading of the inert form, the injured leg expertly splinted until he could set the bones properly. The two groups of volunteers picked up the trestles, one with the body, the other with Charles, and in sombre mood they trudged back to the start, where Lady Grierson and her daughters still waited in anguished silence.

Tom had had the sense to stop and explain to her ladyship what had happened so she knew it was not her son who was dead in spite of his injuries. She had refused the offer of a carriage to convey them to Bentley Hall. They were going to walk beside Charles.

‘Emily, where is Marianne? I don’t think I have seen her since the accident.’

Emily stared round. ‘I have no idea, Mama. Perhaps she went to Bentley Hall with Tom to help organize things. After all it is her home also, is it not?’ Lady Grierson nodded satisfied this had to be the explanation.

The slow procession approached and she ran forward to take her son’s cold hand. ‘Charles, darling boy, speak to your Mama.’

‘It is no use, my dear, he is in a coma. We must pray he stays that way until his leg is set.’ Lord Grierson said, gently pulling her aside.’

Theo, confident everything was being done for the Grierson boy turned his mount and cantered away to carry out his unpleasant duty.

* * * *

Marianne lay on her bed her head throbbing, unable to decide how to deal with the situation she found herself in. She wished she could move back here where Cousin Theo could take care of her and protect her from that man. She tossed her head back and forth. She had just closed her eyes and fallen into a fitful doze when a loud bang on the door disturbed her. A parlour maid appeared, her face white.

‘Miss Devenish, it is dreadful news, there has been a terrible accident on The Green, one young man killed and Mr Grierson desperately injured. They are bringing him here right now. Mrs Blake asks where she should put him.’

Instantly alert, Marianne scrambled off her bed heedless of the crushed state of her gown. She ran ahead of the girl and down to the entrance hall. ‘Blake, put Mr Grierson in a downstairs room. It would be better if they do not have to carry him upstairs.’

‘He can go where Sir James spent the last years of his life, God rest his soul. It can be readied in a trice.’

The housekeeper sent a bevy of servants to prepare the rooms but turned back. ‘Will Lord and Lady Grierson wish to stay here with all the family, Miss Devenish, do you think?’

Marianne shook her head. ‘Lady Grierson will stay, but I think his lordship will take Miss Grierson and the little ones back to Frating Hall. I will remain, of course, to be of any assistance I can. I have had sick room experience and can help nurse Mr Grierson if I am needed.’

‘Miss Devenish, Sir Theodore left instructions for a supper party, obviously this will not now take place, but it means we have more than enough food prepared for any number of visitors.’

‘That is excellent, Blake. Have trays made ready, for I doubt that anyone will wish to sit down in the dining-room. I believe I can hear voices approaching—will the rooms be ready?’

‘They will, miss. We had only to remove the holland covers and make up the bed. It will be done by now.’

Marianne went to the open double-doors to welcome the sad group, her own troubles forgotten as she saw the corpse like body of her almost-brother carried up the steps.

Chapter Ten

Lord and Lady Grierson followed their son down the corridor leaving their three daughters desolate in the hall. Marianne took charge.

‘Emily, Beth, Eleanor, come with me, we can wait in the drawing-room.’ She ushered the three girls in realizing, in surprise, that it was also her first view of the chamber. Upon the acres of polished boards were scattered handsome oriental carpets and the walls, unlike the passageways, were pale and finished with an interesting mottled effect.