The Last of Lady Lansdown (32 page)

“To Lancaster Hall. Lord Rennie will take us in.”

“There could be no place on earth safer than Chatfield Court,” Mama responded. “A wall of water? The whole idea is absolutely ludicrous.”

Jane kept her mouth shut. She knew there was no use arguing when Mama crossed her arms and clenched her jaw in defiance.

* * * *

In Rennie’s library, Douglas sat relaxed with his boots stretched out toward the inviting fire in the fireplace.

“Feel better?” Rennie asked.

“Quite.” Coming out of that river, he had never been so cold in his life, but with dry clothes and a cup of Mrs. Groton’s hot mulled wine at hand, he knew he would survive. “All I have to worry about now is a disastrous flood that will effectively wipe out this valley.”

“It won’t reach this high up?”

“Lancaster Hall is safe.”

“Are you sure, Douglas?” Rennie spoke in a thoughtful tone. “About this disastrous flood, I mean. Not to sound skeptical, but you do sound like the voice of impending doom.”

A flash of lightning lit the room, closely followed by a large clap of thunder and the sound of pelting rain. Douglas glanced toward the window. “Do you hear that?”

“It appears a thunderstorm has arrived.” Rennie took an uneasy sip of his mulled wine. “So you’re saying if it keeps up—?”

“If the downpour continues, we’re in trouble. I couldn’t be more serious.”

“Hmm, then we will have to wait and see, won’t we?” Rennie remained silent a moment. “I wonder if you have considered the momentous change in your life that occurred today.”

“Change in my life? Other than my saving little Molly—of which I’m proud and grateful, of course—I don’t know what you mean.”

“Then I shall explain it.” Rennie set down his cup and regarded Douglas with thoughtful eyes. “For years you’ve been a tortured soul, ever since you ran over that little girl.”

A half smile crossed Douglas’ face. “I never considered myself a tortured soul, but perhaps you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Ever since then, you have not allowed yourself to be happy because of the terrible thing you did.”

“That, too.”

“Well then, can’t you see how what happened today has changed all that?” At Douglas’ puzzled frown, Rennie continued, “Today you saved a little girl’s life. Does that not make up for the other little girl whose life you took? Tit for tat, to put it lightly. In other words, God gave you a chance to redeem yourself. You took up his challenge—quite heroically, I might add—so as far as I can see, you’re even.”

A long silence followed, during which Douglas let his friend’s words sink in. Could he be right? It had not occurred to him, but yes, he had saved Molly’s life at the risk of his own. Yes, the child would surely have drowned if he, Douglas Cartland, former rake and ne’er-do-well, had not dived into the river to save her. Slowly, a joyful realization washed over him. “Rennie, I never thought of that, but I believe you’re right. In a way, my saving Molly does make up for the other.”

“Of course, it does.” Rennie appeared delighted that his friend agreed. “So tell me, what is in the way of your marrying the countess now?”

Another long silence. Douglas was deep in thought. “I agree I have redeemed myself, but it still wouldn’t work.”

“Why ever not?”

“She’s a countess, for God’s sake, whereas I am only a lowly fifth son.”

“Surely not penniless.”

“Not quite penniless, but close. Think about it, Rennie. Jane has lived in luxury for most of her life. The money, the title ... How could I begin to compete?”

“She loves you, Douglas, I know she does.”

“It wouldn’t work. I’m looking beyond that first bloom of love when she gradually realizes nobody’s bowing and scraping to her anymore, waiting on her hand and foot.”

“Really?” I don’t think she’s that kind of woman. She doesn’t appear to be shallow and vain at all.”

Douglas shut his eyes. “I agree, she’s not shallow and vain, it just ... I could never come up to her standards. Now can we change the subject?”

“Of course. We can always talk about the weather.”

Douglas’ expression remained solemn. “If this rain doesn’t let up, that’s all we’ll be talking about. I’m worried, Rennie.”

“I know, but let’s not be too hasty.”

The deluge continued, accompanied by more thunder and lightning. Douglas sat listening, his concern growing by the minute.

“One more hour,” he told Rennie. “If the storm doesn’t let up, it will be time to send out the alarm.”

Another hour passed, during which giant streaks of lightning lit the sky and deafening peals of thunder shook the ground. The rain never ceased. Finally, a particularly heavy deluge struck, sounding like rocks hurled against the windows. Douglas sprang from his chair. “That’s it. We have waited long enough. It’s time to go.”

Douglas started for the door, but Rennie cried, “Wait!” and grabbed his arm. “Think what you’re doing before you go off half-cocked like this. You could be wrong.”

“I’m not wrong.”

“How do you know for sure? Telling people to run for their lives? Leave their homes and possessions behind? You are about to cause total panic up and down this valley and you had better think twice. What if you’re wrong and there is no flood? There goes your reputation. If you aren’t judged insane, at the very least you will be declared a laughingstock.”

Douglas gazed at his friend with the utmost calm. “I shall take that risk. Don’t you understand? Chatfield Court, the whole valley, are about to be wiped out. I must warn them. I could not live with myself if I didn’t.”

Hearing the urgency in his friend’s voice, Rennie visibly paled. “I’m beginning to believe you, and if what you say is true, then Millicent is in danger.”

“Millicent and many other poor souls. Come on, Rennie. Tons of water are about to burst from the canyon. There’s no time to lose.”

Rennie nodded decisively, as if Douglas’ stark words had finally sunk in. “Tell me what to do.”

“Grab your coat. You’re going to get very wet and very cold.”

“I’ll order the horses saddled and brought around.”

“We don’t have time for that. Let’s go.”

They rushed to the stables, where they found both Thunder and Major in their stalls. “Just slip on a harness,” Douglas said. “There’s no time for saddles.”

“You mean ride bareback?” Rennie asked. “I haven’t done that since I was a boy.”

Douglas slipped a harness over Thunder’s head and thrust a bit in his mouth. “You want to save Millicent, don’t you?”

“Confound it! Of course I do.”

“Then forget the saddle.”

Douglas led his horse outside. With an effortless leap, he mounted Thunder, took up the reins, and peered around. “Well, are you coming?”

Rennie immediately appeared, leading his horse, sans saddle. With a run and leap not nearly as graceful as his friend’s, he seated himself on Major’s back. “Let’s go. I must save Millicent.”

And Jane.
Douglas touched his heels to Thunder’s flank. The horse leaped forward, followed by Rennie on Major. Through the pouring rain they raced down the hill to Chatfield Court.
Thank God, it is still daylight.
Douglas urged Thunder into his fastest gallop. He would hate to think of the chaos if people had to escape in total darkness.

They galloped the whole way down the hill, coming to an abrupt halt only when they reached the front portico at Chatfield Court. Both fairly leapt from their mounts, not bothering to tether them. Both horses were well trained. They would not wander far.

Griggs met them at the front entrance. “Is there something wrong, sir?”

“Order the coach brought around immediately,” Douglas replied without preamble. “It’s urgent. Then join us inside.” He hurried into the entry hall. Over his shoulder he called to Rennie, “All we have to do now is convince everyone to leave.”

* * * *

In the dim light of a rainy late afternoon, Jane, Granny, and Millicent had gathered in Jane’s bedchamber, playing a three-handed game of loo. After the day’s ordeal, Jane could almost enjoy the sound of the fierce storm outside, knowing she was safe with her family, warmed by the cozy fire in the fireplace. Douglas’ warning hung over her, but each time she thought of it, she convinced herself he must be wrong. She could not imagine a huge wall of water hurtling down the valley, high enough to drown them all.

Griggs interrupted their game. “You have visitors, m’lady. Mister Cartland and Lord Rennie request everyone’s presence in the drawing room immediately.”

Jane asked, “Do you know what he wants?”

“He did not say, madam. He has ordered the coach brought around, but I do not know why. I must say, whatever the reason, it appears most urgent.”

Jane threw down her cards. “We shall be down at once, Griggs. Granny, Millicent, come on. I’ll get Mama.”

When they reached the drawing room, they discovered Douglas and Rennie soaking wet, warming themselves in front of the cavernous fireplace, water dripping from their clothing onto the hearth. After greeting them, Jane asked Douglas, “Are you here for the reason I think, Mister Cartland?”

“I am. There is not a minute to lose.”

The Eltons arrived, James and Percy wearing looks of puzzlement. Beatrice maintained her saintly smile but with an eyebrow raised in amused contempt. Clearly whatever her visitors had to say, she would not take seriously. “Good evening, Lord Rennie, Mister Cartland. To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?” She exchanged an amused glance with her son. “It must be vastly important to bring you out on a day like this.”

“Do you suppose the world is coming to an end?” quipped Percy.

Rennie said, “It’s a rather important matter, Mrs. Elton. We—”

“It’s
your ladyship
, if you please,” Beatrice snapped. “I am the new countess now and I expect to be addressed as such.”

“Uh, well, of course, your ladyship, I apologize. I—”

“Don’t waste your breath, Rennie.” Douglas stood tall and calm, a purposeful ring to his voice. “Listen everyone, and listen carefully.” He nodded to the butler who stood by the door. “You, too, Griggs. You must notify the servants at once.” Douglas scanned the room, locking eyes with each person in turn. “We have come to warn you that every sign indicates Chatfield Court is about to be hit by a tremendous flood. You must head for higher ground immediately.”

A collective sound of gasps filled the room. “Just what do you mean?” asked Beatrice.

“Exactly what I said, madam.” Douglas gave a quick explanation of how the thunderstorm over the canyon had stagnated for hours and not blown away. The waters were undoubtedly building in the narrow canyon, ready to break loose at any moment. “The rain has not let up for hours. If my instinct serves, and I know it does, tons of water are collecting above us. At any moment they could crash down upon Chatfield Court, the village of Sudberry, the entire valley.”

Beatrice laughed with contempt. “Are we not being a bit overdramatic? Good gracious, even if the water got to our door, these walls are made of stone. I cannot imagine Chatfield Court would ever be in any real danger.”

James chimed in. “Quite right, my dear.” In his usual glassy-eyed daze, he had listened quietly. Now he addressed Douglas with a petulant edge to his voice. “Not only is her ladyship correct, but I find it quite disagreeable of you to frighten the ladies this way. After all, we have had floods before. I cannot remember the number of times the River Hulm has overflowed its banks. Once, as I recall, it came halfway up the lawn. Do you remember that, my dear?” He glanced at his wife. “Back in eighteen thirteen or so, but we never thought to go running up the hill, as you suggest, Mister Cartland.”

Rennie frowned. “Lord Lansdown, let me assure you that my good friend here is an expert on the subject and knows whereof he speaks. You would be wise to listen.”

“Just what would you have us do?” Percy’s lips twisted into a cynical smile. “Go racing up the hill in our good clothes in this downpour? Good grief, old fellow, come to your senses.” He and James shared a laugh.

Ignoring Percy, Douglas addressed James. “Must I go through this again? What we have today is more than ‘just another flood.’ Can’t you understand that at any moment a giant wall of water might come crashing down upon us? If you have half a brain in your head, you will get out now, this instant.”

“How dare you,” Beatrice exclaimed. “You have insulted his lordship. I demand you leave at once.”

Douglas didn’t waste a glance at her. “Who’s going and who’s staying?” He looked toward where the butler had been standing by the door, but he was gone. “I trust Griggs has gone to warn the servants. As for the rest of you ...” He looked Beatrice in the eye. “Are you coming?”

“Certainly not.” Beatrice marched to a sofa, sat herself down, and glared defiantly at her unwelcome guest. “If the rest of you want to go scurrying up the hill like frightened rabbits, go ahead, but I shall not be a party to such foolishness.”

“I have ordered the coach brought around for the ladies.” Douglas directed his gaze at James. “You, sir?”

“I agree with my wife.” James sat on the sofa next to Beatrice. “I cannot abide this nonsense. The sooner you leave, the better.”

Percy peered haughtily down his nose at Douglas. “I concur with my parents. May I say, I have never seen such outrageous behavior as you have displayed today, Mister Cartland. I personally believe you belong in Bedlam.”

Douglas turned to Jane’s mother. “I trust you will be coming with us, ma’am.”

Amelia Hart sank into a chair and bowed her head as if in deep thought. A long moment passed. “No, I am staying right here.”

Jane took a deep, sharp breath. “Mama, what are you thinking? Of course you’re coming. You know we can stay with Lord Rennie. He—”

“I am not coming.”

“Why?” Jane fought to keep the panic from her voice.

“Because I’m too old to run. Besides, I, too, think it’s the height of foolishness to go running up the hill in all this rain. Leave if you wish, but as for me, I shall go to my room where I shall wait out the storm in comfort, thank you.”

“No, you must come!” Jane knelt before her mother and gripped her hands. “Please, I’m begging you. You could die if you stay.”