A Suitable Husband Page 9

  Oliver glanced up and his worried eyes met those of the doctor, who said quietly. ‘Possibly — it’s too soon to say.’

  The dog was unconscious, but thankfully no longer squirming in desperate pain. He gently lowered him to the ground. ‘Run to the kitchen, Edward, and tell Mrs Thomas what’s happened. Tell her we’re going to bring Rags in so she will need to prepare a place for him, somewhere quiet and cool.’

  Edward released his compulsive hold and sniffed loudly. ‘Will Rags die, Papa?’ His voice was little more than a whisper.

  ‘I don’t know, lad. We must pray he does not. Now, hurry ahead: Rags needs you to be strong.’ He gave the boy a hard hug and pushed him towards the archway. When he was out of earshot he turned to David. ‘What chance is there?’

  The doctor shrugged and ran his hand down the dog’s chest, towards the shoulder, searching for a pulse. ‘We have done all we can; he will have ingested a certain amount of the poison and his eventual recovery will depend how much that was.’

  Oliver fondled the limp ears. ‘He’s young and strong, he’ll fight, I am sure of it.’ His head dropped and he scowled. ‘He must get better; Edward will be devastated if he dies. The animal’s like a brother to him.’

  The doctor replaced his apparatus in a battered leather bag. ‘Can you manage the dog?’

  Oliver nodded. ‘Yes, thank you.’ He was determined to do so: this catastrophe was his fault, it was his responsibility to take care of things. He crouched and lifted the inert body. Leaning back, for balance, he straightened his legs and staggered upright. With the dog cradled in his arms he followed Edward, and the doctor, to the house, hoping the housekeeper had responded quickly and the necessary preparations had been made. When Rags was settled would be time enough to consider the implications of the incident.

  His arms were aching by the time he reached the kitchen. Thomas had prepared a corner in the boot-room; two clean blankets were ready to receive the deadweight. Gratefully he lowered the dog, which still showed no visible signs of life. Edward watched with tearful eyes as the dog’s head flopped limply onto the hastily prepared bed.

  ‘Can I stay here and look after him? He will want me to be with him when he wakes up.’

  Oliver hesitated, realising he was being asked a question best answered by Sarah. ‘You will need your mother’s approval, Edward. Shall we go up and ask her?’

  The boy nodded and scrambled back to his feet. In silence the duo went up the back stairs that led from the servants’ hall. Oliver was dreading the moment when he had to tell Sarah her attackers had once more breached his defences.

  ‘Will she be awake, do you think, Papa?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure she will be. And if she is not, then we will wake her.’

  Beth’s sombre face, when she opened the bedchamber door, meant the horrid news had already arrived. ‘Madam is at her toilette, sir; she has asked if you will wait in her sitting-room. She won’t be but a moment more.’

  Oliver nodded and, still holding Edward’s hand, took him to wait. ‘It appears your mother has already been told what happened, Edward. Shall we sit down? Would you like me to tell you about my experiences at the Battle of Talevera?’

  Normally such an offer would have been received with enthusiasm but the boy shook his head and to Oliver’s surprise climbed onto his lap. The boy’s head nestled into his shoulder, trustingly, and he felt the slender form shudder. Instinctively he tightened his arms, his chest constricted with an alien emotion. Murmuring words of love and encouragement he lowered his head and kissed the grubby, tearstained face. Neither of them heard the connecting door open softly or saw Sarah standing, framed in the sunlight, watching.

  ***

  Her eyes brimmed and she knew, in that instant, that her decision was made. The love between Edward and Oliver was such it made a marriage not only possible, but essential. It would be intolerable for her son to lose a father for a second time.

  Oliver sensed her presence and looked up. Their eyes met and he mouthed, ‘He’s sleeping.’

  Sarah mimed that he should put Edward down on the daybed and he did so. He seemed strangely unwilling to relinquish his burden. She beckoned and he followed her quietly into the window embrasure where they could talk without disturbing the child.

  Everything had changed. Without conscious thought Sarah stepped forward and Oliver opened his arms and drew her close. She rested her head and could hear the sound of his heart beneath his soiled white shirt. Whatever their differences they must put them aside: Edward’s welfare came first. She stepped away, but left her hand in his.

  ‘Oliver, before we talk about the dog, there is something I wish to ask you.’ She waited for him to acknowledge her unspoken request for permission to continue. He closed his hand, hard, around hers, and nodded, his eyes gleaming and his expression watchful.

  ‘Edward loves you and you love him. I know you will make him a wonderful father. I have been thinking and have decided I would like our arrangement to become a real one. It would be advantageous to both of us. You would become a wealthy man and Edward and I would have a man to protect us. Would this be acceptable to you?’

  In answer Oliver, dropped her hand, and, his face alight with amusement, dropped dramatically to one knee. ‘Sarah, will you do me the inestimable honour of becoming my wife?’

  Sarah responded in kind, and sank into a graceful curtsy. ‘Oh, la, Captain Mayhew, this is so sudden! But yes, I will marry you.’

  Oliver clasped his hands to his chest. ‘You have made me the happiest of men, my angel.’ He sprang to his feet and they both sobered. ‘When do you wish to be wed, Sarah?’

  ‘Soon. Perhaps at the beginning of July, that will give me six weeks to prepare.’

  ‘Very well. Shall I arrange the details of the ceremony with the vicar, or do you wish your father to perform the ceremony?’

  ‘No, I wish him to escort me this time; he conducted the service between Jonathan and I. So, yes, please do speak to the vicar. I will write to my father and sister.’ It was only then she remembered her sister had yet to reply to her request for information about Oliver. Well, it was too late now. Whatever Elspeth might have discovered the decision was made.

  She glanced across at her son, exhausted by his grief. ‘At least Edward will have something happy to look forward to.’ She left unsaid the unpleasant fact that her son was likely to have to face the death of his closest companion. The news from downstairs was that Rags was sinking fast.

  Chapter Ten

  Sally took her place beside her charge, allowing Sarah and Oliver to descend to the study where they had matters of importance to discuss. Sarah was surprised to see the young doctor still in evidence. ‘We must thank you for your prompt action, Dr Witherspoon. If you had not been here Rags would certainly have died an agonising death.’

  ‘The animal is still gravely ill, Mrs Haverstock; the result could still be death. I hope your little boy understands.’

  ‘He does; we all do.’

  ‘I remained solely to discuss what you can expect to happen in the next few hours.’ Sarah nodded. ‘The dog will either slip away or he will regain consciousness. If he does he will need careful nursing. Small amounts of boiled water must be spooned into his mouth as often as he will take them.’

  ‘If he recovers, will there be lasting damage?’

  ‘No, Mrs Haverstock, I think not.’ He bowed to both of them. “I will take my leave. Please do not hesitate to send for me.’

  The door closed behind the doctor leaving them alone. She stared, sniffed and, in spite of the circumstances, her mouth curved. ‘I do not believe I ever sat down with such a disreputable figure.’

  Oliver glanced, cursorily, at his stained shirt and vomit spattered breeches. ‘Good God! I cannot remain with you like this.’ He stood up, ready to rush off and repair the discrepanci
es of his attire.

  Sarah shook her head, exasperated. ‘Sit down, Oliver; it’s far too late to worry. I have become used to the smell now.’

  Grinning, he resumed his seat, but more carefully, trying to keep his stinking garments from the upholstery. Once settled he turned to her, his face serious. ‘Somehow the enemy was able to substitute the poisoned gingerbreads. I have to discover how this was done.’

  ‘It was not a member of Harriet’s staff. I can assure you of that. They are all members of long standing and totally loyal.’

  ‘Then the switch took place at a later stage. It worries me Edward’s taste for gingerbread was known. Someone close to you is giving away information.’

  Sarah frowned, upset by the suggestion that any of her people were trying to harm Edward or herself. ‘But all the girls who work in the house have been with me for several years.’

  ‘And the outside men?’

  ‘They also. Even Jack has worked here for three years.’

  It was Oliver’s turn to frown. ‘Whoever it is had the information from someone.’ He scowled, deep in thought, and Sarah watched him. Even in rank clothing, and with his hair unkempt, she could not help noticing that he was an attractive man. ‘Of course! How could I not have thought of this? You have a household of unmarried young women; how many are walking out with lads from the village, do you know?’

  ‘Jane and Sally are both courting local young men; they will be leaving to be married next spring, but how is that information of assistance?’

  ‘Do any of them ever meet at the inn?’

  ‘Yes, Sally does; her intended is the son of the innkeeper.’ Then she understood where the questions were leading. ‘I see; Sally might well have discussed Edward on her visits and been overheard.’

  ‘Exactly; I’ll send Jenkins to the inn and he can make discreet inquiries. I’m afraid the informant has to be local, Sarah. I would know at once if there were strangers in the vicinity.’

  It was inconceivable someone who lived in her demesne could betray her to a murderer, but there was no other explanation. ‘I agree: it can only be a local, no one else would have the necessary knowledge or be able to remain here unremarked.’ Her shoulders slumped, which prompted Oliver to leave his seat to comfort her. At her involuntary recoil he stopped and grinned.

  ‘I really must bathe and change; the smell is making me gag and I am used to far worse, as you can imagine.’

  Sarah stood; her legs were so weak that, for a dreadful moment, she thought she would collapse. She surreptitiously gripped the chair back, hoping he would not notice.

  ‘You’re feeling unwell again — stay — I will carry you up.’

  She wrinkled her nose. ‘No, thank you; it was but a moment’s dizziness. I am fully recovered now. I will have Beth come down and assist me.’

  Satisfied he nodded. ‘I will speak to Jenkins and send Jack with a note for Lord Hepworth. When I have some answers, shall I come and see you?’ Both remembered what had transpired last time they had been alone together.

  Sarah inclined her head. ‘Please do, Oliver. I am eager to know how the substitution was undertaken without the delivery boy being aware of it.’

  ‘So am I. I promise I’ll share any information as soon as I receive it.’ Beth arrived and Oliver was free to leave. ‘Your mistress has overtaxed herself, Beth. She will need your assistance on the stairs.’ He glanced at Sarah and they smiled. The maid’s expression of distaste on seeing him had not gone unnoticed.

  ***

  Edward was still asleep and the longer he remained so the better. Sarah prayed when he awoke the news from downstairs would be more encouraging. She dismissed his nursemaid knowing she would be close by. ‘I will not retire, Beth. I will rest on the chaise-longue in here.’

  Beth fussed around, arranging pillows and fetching lavender water to bathe Sarah’s forehead. When she had her mistress settled to her satisfaction, she withdrew to the dressing room to continue with her mending.Sarah loved her maid dearly, but sometimes her solicitude was wearing. Left, at last, in blessed peace, she was able to relax and review the extraordinary events of the day.

  The unknown assassin had tried to poison Edward and almost succeeded and now poor Rags lay fighting for his life. In spite of the cordon of rifleman, and the elaborate precautions to stop him, he had still been able to get close. Icy tremors shook her. For an instant her fear almost overwhelmed her and she pressed her fingers against her mouth to prevent a cry of anguish from escaping.

  What was happening to them? A month ago she had been a happy woman, with neither financial nor any other worries. Now there had been two attempts on Edward’s life and one on hers. She was no longer in control of her own destiny and was once more dependent on a man.

  Indeed that very afternoon she had brazenly proposed marriage to a virtual stranger based on what? That he was a suitable match and would bring financial stability to the union? No — she had suggested they married because Oliver loved her son and could protect them both. Was this sufficient compatibility on which to base a lifetime’s commitment?

  She would not repine. This was her choice; it could be a marriage of convenience and advantageous for them both. He, once a penniless, half-pay captain, would be a rich man with extensive estates to manage. She would have a handsome husband to share her bed and father her children and Edward would have the father he had always wanted. She picked up the polished brass bell and rang it, once. ‘Beth, I need pen and paper from my escritoire.’

  Sarah was halfway through the second letter, this one to her sister, when Edward began to stir. She put her work aside and swung her legs to the floor. This time they did not betray her and she was able to walk briskly across to perch beside her son. She wished she had better news for him.

  ‘Darling, have you had a lovely nap? I expect you will not wish to retire early tonight, so you may come down and eat with us, as a special treat.’

  He beamed, momentarily forgetting about his pet. ‘Thank you, Mama, I should like that.’ Then his face fell and his mouth twisted. ‘Rags! I must go down and see him. Is he getting better? Please tell me he is better.’

  ‘I wish I could, my dear. But he is no worse. Rags is young and strong and he will not give in easily.’ She straightened his rumpled shirt and pushed his silky, black hair from his eyes. ‘Come along then, Edward, we will go down together and see how he does.’

  They met Oliver on his way up and for a second her heart sank. Then she saw his face, although serious, did not have the expression of someone bringing them dire news.

  Edward released his vice-like grip and flew into his future father’s outstretched arms. ‘Papa, how is Rags? Have you been to see him?’

  ‘I have, son, and he’s a little better, I believe. Come and see for yourself.’ He scooped Edward up and, carrying him easily, retraced his steps. Sarah followed behind, not sure she was glad Oliver was taking his new responsibilities so seriously or put out that her son appeared to prefer his company to her own.

  Oliver ducked his head as he entered the boot-room. The rear of the building, which housed the servants’ quarters and offices, was of much older origins than the front, and constructed for smaller folk. He gently lowered the boy to his feet beside the inert dog. To their astonishment the long tail thumped in a feeble greeting. Edward fell to his knees and buried his face in the dog’s smelly coat. The sick animal, still too weak to raise his head, attempted to lick Edward’s cheek and his tail wagged twice more.

  Sarah stretched out her hand and Oliver gripped it hard. She needed no urging to move closer, to feel his arm encircle her shoulders and hold her safe. Joy and relief flooded through her. Once again her fervent prayers had been answered. Their troubles were not over, not whilst the unseen enemy was still out there plotting, but she believed the Lord was taking care of them.

  The man
so close beside her, sharing her delight at the dog’s recovery, must have been sent to protect them. Her precipitate decision to make the union real was not a grave error of judgement but was clearly an action directed by the Almighty.

  Sarah felt light-headed — giddy with relief — no longer plagued by doubts for God was surely guiding her actions. She could stop worrying she might be marrying Oliver for the wrong reasons. It was now possible to start looking forward to their forthcoming nuptials. She sighed and rested her cheek against his pristine jacket ‘Sarah?’

  She tipped her head to receive his kiss. Edward sat back and grinned at the interesting spectacle of his mother and future father exchanging a long embrace. ‘Mama, Papa, Rags is better.

  Come and see.’

  Reluctantly they stepped apart to join the child on the floor. The dog, despite his weakness, basked in their combined attention. His huge brown eyes shone in adoration and his tail renewed its thumping.

  Sarah stroked the dog’s head. ‘Lie still, Rags, you must not over exert yourself.’

  ‘I expect he’s pleased to see us all. I think he was lonely with only Elsie to take care of him, Mama.’

  Oliver glanced across at the little scullery maid, who had been designated nurse, and smiled broadly. ‘You have done well, Elsie. We are grateful to you. Has the dog managed to swallow any water yet?’

  The girl, her white apron mired and hair covered, smiled shyly. ‘Yes, sir, that he has. Not at first, mind, but just before you came by, he fair gobbled it down off the spoon.’

  ‘Good girl; you shall have an extra day off and a crown for your diligence.’ Sarah told her. Else’s face almost split with happiness.