The Return of Lord Conistone. Lucy Ashford
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stay here! At least—until he is somewhat recovered!’
Oh, Lord. What made her say it? Was she quite mad?
‘My dear,’ said Dr Pilkington, looking happier, ‘that would certainly be for the best! It shouldn’t be long; he’s a strong young fellow, and the bullet passed cleanly through the flesh. We can, of course, hire a nurse from the town to tend him—’
‘That will not be necessary, Doctor!’ said Verena crisply. She had seen plenty of hired nurses when she and Pippa had visited the hospital for wounded officers in Chichester. They struck her as rough and unkind. ‘I mean,’ she went on quickly, ‘that his valet, and our own servants, will be able to tend him quite adequately. That is, if it is not for long?’
‘He should recover quickly; a couple of days and he’ll be on his feet. He’s clearly a survivor. This is nothing compared to another wound he’s sustained in the not-too-distant past’.
‘Another wound?’
‘Yes, a nasty one, must just have missed his left lung; done by a French sabre, I’d say’.
Verena had been striving to be businesslike. But now she felt rather sick. ‘How can you know?’
‘Oh, I used to be an army surgeon, so I’ve seen similar injuries. They jab and twist—that’s how the French foot soldiers are trained—up through the ribs, to strike for the heart. Lord Conistone was lucky to escape with his life’.
The army, of course. He must have been wounded in the army, before he resigned.
But…
‘Well, now,’ went on Dr Pilkington, ‘I must go back in and dress his arm for the night. One more thing—though I gather Lord Conistone wants no fuss, I’ll have to make a report to the constables, but I fear those villains will be long gone by now. I will call on the patient again in the morning’.
Nodding, she turned to go up to her room, her mind churning with confusion. Those men who shot Lucas must have been French smugglers, straying from their usual part of the coast, and they’d planned, perhaps, on demanding a ransom for her. That must be the explanation. Billy and Tom and the others had been caught up unintentionally in the drama; for their sakes, Verena was more than happy for the whole frightening episode to be forgotten.
But why did Lucas want tonight’s violent incident kept quiet? And earlier, when he’d confronted her outside the house, he had said he was leaving for Stancliffe; why, two hours later, was he still so close that he had been the first to come to her rescue?
People whispered that Lucas Conistone was a coward. But he had not been a coward when he rescued her. And then he had kissed her; and all her carefully built defences had tumbled as his embrace set fire to her yearning soul.
Oh, you fool, Verena.
That night she slept badly and woke long before dawn, her heart full of despair, wondering how she would endure his presence here.
Harlot. Fortune-hunting harlot.
Chapter Seven
‘Is it true, Verena? That Lucas will have to stay here till he’s better? And will they catch the ferocious band of smugglers who shot him?’ Verena’s youngest sister Izzy was first to join Verena at breakfast the next morning, bubbling with excitement.
So the rumours were already spreading. ‘We’re not absolutely sure who did it, Izzy,’ Verena told her gravely. Cook’s strong, sweet tea and the normal demands of the household had restored her to relative equanimity. ‘But, yes, he will stay for a day or two, until he’s well enough to move. And you must call him Lord Conistone’.
Seventeen-year-old Izzy’s face fell, then brightened. ‘But he’s actually in our house! And he’s so handsome, Verena. Wait till I tell my friends! I shall write to them all this minute…’. She was already on her feet, breakfast forgotten.
Verena cut in. ‘No gossip, please, Izzy. Remember, he is our guest!’
Izzy pouted and ran off. But Pippa, her red-headed, lively, sensible sister, had ridden over from the farm near Framlington that morning with a basket of eggs and had appeared just in time to catch Verena’s last words.
‘Well,’ Pippa declared, ‘David says Lord Conistone most certainly won’t want to stay for long in a place that’s been stripped of half its furniture!’ She settled herself at the table and started pouring tea. ‘Why did he come here in the first place, Verena? I’m intrigued. Was it to gloat?’
‘Over our misfortunes? Our disasters? I don’t know, Pippa. I really don’t know’. Verena was shaking her head, still fighting to dispel the dreams that had haunted her sleep. ‘And do you know, yesterday Luc—Lord Conistone—actually had the effrontery to offer me money for our father’s private papers? Or rather, he said he knew people who would pay for them! I don’t understand why anyone would want them, do you?’
Pippa frowned. ‘You mean our father’s letters to us?’
‘Oh, letters, maps, diaries, I think; you know how he always wrote about everything on his travels, in the minutest detail! But I told Lucas I would never, ever sell anything of Papa’s!’
‘Good for you. But now you’re stuck with his lordship in the house. It really is appalling luck’. Pippa sipped her tea. ‘Although dear Mama will be delighted to have Lord Conistone a captive, as it were, under her roof’.
Verena absorbed herself in buttering a piece of toast. ‘They say he is as good as betrothed already, Pippa’.
Pippa snorted. ‘That story about Lady Jasmine, you mean? London tattle. Anyway, you think that would deter Mama? Here is her dream: a real-life viscount on the sacrificial altar of marriage, so to speak’.
‘Oh, Lord, don’t, Pippa!’ Verena feigned lightheartedness. ‘Mama must be kept away from him at all costs. And,’ she added more quietly, ‘it’s going to be hideously awkward for Deb’.
Pippa knew nothing about the Earl’s terrible letter to Verena. But Pippa did know about Deb’s encounter with Lucas at Lady Willoughby’s ball.
‘Deb? I see the problem’. Pippa frowned. Then her face brightened. ‘My goodness, I might have part of the answer! Don’t you remember? Mama and Deb and Izzy were supposed to be going to Chichester later today, to stay with Aunt Grace for a few days and visit the shops…’.
‘But then Mama vowed she could not travel into Chichester because of the shame of the dispersal sale!’
‘Nevertheless,’ said Pippa, eyes gleaming, ‘we will tell Mama that even if she doesn’t go, the girls absolutely must, this very afternoon! How will that do? I’ll persuade her, never fear!’
Verena’s spirits lifted. Aunt Grace, their father’s widowed cousin, often played host to the Sheldon family. ‘If you could, Pippa! But we must remind Mama and the girls that—’
‘That we’ve no money for Deb and Izzy to spend on frivolities, I know!’
‘We’ve no money to spend on anything, I fear’.
Pippa hurried to hug her sister. ‘Oh, Verena. Anyone would think it’s all your fault! You—you don’t feel anything for Lucas still, do you?’
‘Goodness me, not a thing,’ lied Verena, forcing a smile. ‘Unlike Deb, I can’t deceive myself that the heir to an earldom could be interested in a Sheldon sister!’
‘Oh, Deb’s a fool’. Pippa was silent a moment. Then she said thoughtfully, ‘You know, Verena, I always wondered about Lucas and you. So did David. We both used to notice the way he looked at you…’.
‘Marvelling