Jarrold helped Jacina and Sarah from the gig. After
glancing around for a moment the two ladies withdrew under a giant oak to watch the proceedings.
Jarrold carried the pistol case over to the Earl's valet – serving as the Earl's second – and the Steward, who had reluctantly agreed to second Fronard.
The Earl and Fronard removed their cloaks. Jarrold opened the pistol case for Fronard and the Earl to choose their weapons. The Earl ran his hand over the pistols. Fronard picked them up and examined them, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Then the duellists stood back to back. At a word from Jarrold they started on their paces. The Earl walked in as straight a line as Fronard, his head held high. He never hesitated, never stumbled.
Jacina could not tear her eyes from him.
The men turned and raised their pistols.
The Earl was to take the first shot. He raised his pistol straight before him, but Jacina was sure it was not levelled directly at Fronard. She twisted her hands together.
'Please God let him not miss.'
Fronard, standing with the oak in his view, caught sight of Jacina. He could not resist baiting her.
"Ah! You have come, Miss Jacina, to say goodbye to your friend!"
It was a foolish thing for him to do. The Earl cocked his head and slowly moved his pistol to the right, towards the sound of Fronard.
Jacina noticed the adjustment and hope flooded her heart.
The shot reverberated over the trees. Wood pigeons burst from amid the leaves, calling in alarm.
Fronard staggered but did not fall. He glanced at his shoulder as a red stain appeared on his pale grey shirt.
With an angry snarl he raised his pistol. Jacina felt the shot in her very being.
The Earl's head snapped back and he fell.
Jacina cried out and ran towards his prone body, but Jarrold and the doctor were there before her. She caught a glimpse of a bloodied forehead before the doctor waved her back. She was caught sobbing in the arms of the Earl's valet who had joined the group around the Earl. Sarah hobbled up a moment later.
"Is he dead, is he dead?" Jacina moaned.
The doctor pressed his ear to the Earl's chest. Then he felt for his pulse. "He is still breathing," he said.
"Thank God," cried Jacina in relief. "THANK GOD!"
The doctor hurriedly bound the Earl's brow with a white cloth. "Let us get back to the castle" he urged. "He may be saved."
Nobody thought of Fronard.
The valet and Jarrold carried the Earl to the gig. Sarah followed, her arm supporting Jacina.
"The ladies can ride in my gig," suggested the doctor. He looked round and then gave an exasperated cry. "Where the devil – ?"
The doctor's gig had gone! With it had gone Fronard.
They now noticed the Steward, rising with a groan from the grass.
"What happened?" asked Jarrold with a frown.
The Steward explained. "Although it was evident that the Earl was hit with the first shot, still that scoundrel Fronard raised his pistol to fire again. I heard him muttering – 'finish it, finish it'.
"I wrestled with him and managed to snatch the pistol, but as I turned he hit me on the back of the head with something hard. I don't know what. I went down, but luckily fell on the pistol – so he hasn't taken that."
Jarrold and the others thanked the Steward warmly for his actions. It was clear that Fronard had intended to ensure that the Earl was dead with a second bullet.
Now they had to fly like the wind to the castle to save the Earl.
The Steward elected to ride the Earl's black horse. The valet rode the grey. The doctor and the two ladies settled in the remaining gig with the Earl. Jarrold took the reins. The whip lashed through the air as the horses set off at a gallop.
The Earl's head lay in Jacina's lap. With trembling fingers, she brushed the hair back from his unconscious brow.
For this moment, he was hers.
For the whole drive back through the damp woods, as the sky grew lighter, he was hers.
Only at the castle was he torn from her.
Jacina had to force herself not to resist as Jarrold, the valet and the Steward lifted the Earl from her arms. She climbed carefully down after him and then turned to help Sarah.
Once alighted, Sarah hurried off to the kitchen entrance. She was going to order hot water and towels to be brought to the Earl's chamber.
The men began to climb the castle steps with their burden. The doctor hurried alongside, keeping an anxious eye on his patient.
Suddenly above them the castle door was flung open and Felice appeared. When her eyes fell on the unconscious Earl, they widened.
"He is not dead, Countess," said the doctor quickly. "There is hope."
With a great cry Felice collapsed weeping on her husband's body.
Jacina watched numbly from the foot of the steps.
"We must take him to his chamber, Countess," urged the doctor.
Felice allowed herself to be drawn from the Earl. She took a handkerchief from her sleeve and began dabbing the tears from her cheek. Her hand abruptly stayed as she caught sight of Jacina starting up the castle steps. She watched for a moment and then turned sharply on her heels.
As Jacina arrived at the top of the steps, the heavy oak door was slammed firmly in her face.
All day the Earl lay unconscious.
The bullet had entered his head over the left brow. The locum thought it had travelled under the skin and lodged at the back of the skull. He did not consider himself experienced enough to operate, so a surgeon from Carlisle was sent for.
While awaiting his arrival everyone in the castle was subdued. There was little chatter in the kitchens. The servants went about their duties with long faces.
The corridor outside the Earl's chamber was as silent as the tomb.
As dusk fell a figure could be seen flitting through the castle like a ghost, candle in hand. It was Jacina.
She had waited all day and could wait no longer. She was desperate to see the Earl and judge for herself what chance he had of living. Sarah had told her that a nurse had been summoned from the village to sit with the Earl. Surely the nurse would not object if Jacina crept in to see him?
She reached the Earl's chamber and knocked softly. She heard footsteps in the room beyond. The door opened and there before her stood – the Countess Felice! Jacina recoiled in dismay.
"What do you want?" asked Felice coldly.
"I c-came to see the Earl."
"You came to see my husband, hein?"
"Y-your husband, yes. I j-just wanted to – "
Felice cut her off icily. "You are not welcome here. My husband is lying eeel because of your meddling. If he dies it will be your fault. Do you understand, mademoiselle? Your fault!"
Jacina stepped back from the doorway. She stood for a moment, her breast heaving. Then she turned and stumbled back to her room.
The candle guttered out in her hand.
All that night and the next morning the Earl's chamber was guarded by the Countess. She dismissed the nurse from the village and allowed no one other than the doctor to enter.
She seemed determined to nurse her husband herself. Everyone agreed that she was proving herself an exemplary wife. Fronard had been a bad influence. With him gone Felice could be herself again.
Jacina in her torment did not know what to think. Was it possible that Felice really loved the Earl after all?
She remembered Felice weeping over the Earl's body when he was brought wounded to the castle.
Perhaps Felice had been telling the truth, when she said Fronard had been importunate with her and that his attentions had been unwelcome.
It had not looked that way in the folly that night, but perhaps Jacina had misread the situation. Perhaps she had been wrong all along.
This thought threw her into a fever of remorse.
"If he dies it will be your fault."
How could she blame Felice for those bitter words? They were only too true. If she had not gone for that moonlit walk – if she had not seen Fronard and Felice seemingly embrace – if she had not spoken of it to Sarah and the Earl – then the Earl would not now be hovering at death's door.
She sat for hours at her window, her eyes glued to the road. She was willing the Ruven coach to appear, bringing the surgeon from Carlisle.
Her watch was finally rewarded, when she saw the Ruven coach come racing towards the castle. It drew to a halt, the horses panting and steaming. The surgeon leapt out and ran up the steps with his Gladstone bag.
Three hours later the good news flew through the castle. The bullet had been successfully removed. The Earl had regained consciousness and was out of danger. There was no permanent damage.
Jacina felt faint with relief. She pressed her hands together and gave a prayer of thanks.
The surgeon left before supper. He declared himself satisfied with the Earl's condition. A week of rest and he would be able to resume normal life.
Jacina was at last able to relax. She fell into a deep sleep and was only wakened by Nancy bringing her some supper on a tray. Nancy was about to leave, when she suddenly thrust a hand into her apron pocket.
"I nearly forgot, miss. This is for you." She handed Jacina a note, bobbed a curtsy and left.
"Dear Jacina," the note read, "the doctor ordered theCountess to take some rest so I am sitting with the Earltonight. He has asked for you. Come after ten. Sarah."
Jacina coloured as she stared at the note.
He has asked for you.
What did this mean? Was he going to reprimand her for all the trouble she had set in motion? If so, she did not care. Even to hear his voice, stern and cold, was better than not hearing it at all.
She waited in a fever of excitement until ten o'clock
struck. This was the hour when the household usually retired.
She lit a candle and, shielding it with one hand, opened the door. The corridor was empty. Indeed the whole castle seemed quiet as the grave. She saw no one on her journey except a maid at the end of a corridor, carrying a jug of hot water towards the Countess's chamber.
The door to the Earl's chamber was ajar. Jacina gave a soft knock and pushed it open.
She had never been in this room before and for a moment its opulence took her breath away. Scarlet brocade curtains were drawn over the windows. The walls were hung with rich tapestries. Chairs were covered with blue damask.
The room was full of shadows. Candles flickered in silver candlesticks and a fire burned in the grate.
Sarah sat dozing in a wing chair.
Jacina hesitated and then tiptoed to the side of the large four poster bed.
The Earl lay in almost complete shadow under the canopy. His open eyes were like dark pools. A white bandage tinged with red bound his brow.
"Jacina?" he murmured as she gazed sorrowfully at him.
"My – my Lord," she started. "How did you – know?"
The Earl smiled. "You think I do not recognise the tread of my little helper?"
Jacina had not expected such a gentle tone. A tear spilled from her eye and trickled down her cheek. She wiped the tear away.
"My – my Lord. I am very sorry to have been the cause of so – so much discord. I thought I was – was acting for the best – "
The Earl raised his hand.
"Hush, Jacina, hush. It is all forgotten. I believe Fronard to be the villain of the peace, not you. He had an unhealthy hold over my wife. You acted in all sincerity and that is why I asked you to come to me. I want to reassure you. Nobody knows of your role in this affair – except of course Sarah. Nobody blames you."
"Th-thank you, my Lord." Her voice was choked and she had to wait a moment before she could speak again.
"Is there – any news of Fronard, my Lord?"
"None," replied the Earl grimly. "The gig he took was found abandoned two miles further along the road, but he himself has disappeared into thin air."
Jacina digested this news. Wherever Fronard was, she hoped with all her heart he would never return to Castle Ruven.
"I am so glad that you are better, my Lord," she said.
"I am indeed better," said the Earl. "In fact, I shall soon be well enough to travel."
"T-travel, my Lord?"
"My wife has suggested that she and I spend some time in Switzerland. She is convinced the mountain air would aid my recovery. She will travel ahead to find a chateau for us to rent. I will follow on later."
"Oh," whispered Jacina faintly.
That Felice had won back the Earl's trust, she accepted. That the Countess planned to take the Earl away from England was, however, an unexpected blow.
Switzerland seemed like the far side of the moon to Jacina.
"Will you b-be away a long time?" she asked.
"Why, Jacina," the Earl teased, "it sounds as if you will miss me!"
Jacina blushed. "But I – I will, my Lord."
The Earl was silent for a moment.
"Who knows what will transpire," he murmured at last. He turned his head away and Jacina realised it was in an attempt to hide a grimace of pain.
Without thinking, she placed her hand consolingly over his where it lay on the counterpane.
The Earl started at her touch. Then, slowly, his fingers closed over hers. He turned back to her, his features relaxing. She tried to draw her hand away, but he held it fast. Her heart began to pound as he raised her hand to his lips.
Jacina felt she would faint with the sensation that swept through her body. If only her hand could remain in his forever! His grasp was so strong! She felt herself drawn closer and closer.
"Forgive this display of weakness before a trusted friend," mumbled the Earl.
A trusted friend! That was all she was to the Earl, all she would ever be. Jacina closed her eyes. She reproached herself for imagining even for one second that she could be anything more.
As Sarah stirred in her chair, the Earl released Jacina's hand.
"You must leave now," he said.
"Y-yes, my Lord."
As she opened the door she paused to glance back at the bed.
The Earl lay hidden from her in its shadowy depths.