Джорджетт Хейер - The Reluctant Widow

“Good God, did you think to look? It did not enter my head, as it chances, but I dare say it might have presently. But only listen, Ned! You do not know the whole!”

“I am listening. I collect already, of course, that you were got rid of by sending you in search of the doctor.”

“Yes, I was—except that that was my own thought, but I dare say he would have found another way if I had let the groom go. I expect he hoped I might be the one to go when he said he must have Greenlaw sent for. But the thing is, Ned, he gave it out he was a great deal too sick to leave his room, and had Mrs. Barrow make him arrowroot jelly, and would only take gruel for his breakfast—such stuff! And then, no sooner am I out of the way and Bouncer gone off hunting—though that was the sheerest good fortune, now I come to think of it, but perhaps he hoped I should take Bouncer with me—in any event, there we were, both of us disposed of, and the women likely to be busy about the house, in the way they are at that hour, though I’m sure I don’t know what they can find to be doing forever, and so down comes Master Francis on the chance of finding no one about. He goes softly into the bookroom, and what does he see?”

“Mrs. Cheviot, with just such a document as he is looking for in her hand.”

“Exactly so! He must have supposed her to have come upon it suddenly, perhaps in the desk, in a secret drawer I thought might have been there. And at all costs he was bound to seize it from her, you know, and so he struck her down. Jupiter! I’d give a monkey only to have been able to see his face when he found it was only a list of some rubbishy sheets and towels! And I have made it out in my mind, Ned, that it must have been then that I came into the hall and set up a shout for Cousin Elinor. He must have guessed I should go straight to the bookroom, and so he had no time to make his escape, but flung open the window instead and created all that havoc only to make us think someone had jumped out into the garden and scattered a lot of snowdrops all over Cousin Elinor, and—”

“Did he do so? It seems a trifle premature,” Carlyon said dryly.

“Eh? Oh, I see!” Nicky said with a laugh. “No, but he splashed the water from the bowl on her face so that I should suppose him to be doing what he could to restore her. Not that I did think it, for I hope I am not such a gudgeon as that! But what if it had been that document, Ned, and I had not chanced to have come in just then?”

“I imagine he would have retired to his bed again,” said Carlyon.

“I suppose he might,” conceded Nicky. “And I suppose we might not have set it down at his door. Not but what—However, it don’t signify for he is no better off than he was! But what will he do next?”

“What indeed?”

“Ned, have you some notion in your head?” Nicky asked suspiciously.

“I have a great many notions in my head.”

“No, I won’t have you baiting me! It is a great deal too serious!”

“So it is, and there, I fancy, is Greenlaw coming from the bookroom. You had better take him up to Francis’ room,” Carlyon said, going toward the door.

“Ned! If you don’t tell me it will be quite shameful of you! You always know everything!”

“Yes, Nicky, but you think I know everything because I never tell you anything I am not quite certain of,” Carlyon replied, looking back at him with his faint smile. “What a sad blow it would be to my vanity if you found I could be just as easily mistaken as anyone else! You must let me keep my own counsel until I am certain. And now I must go back to Mrs. Cheviot.”

Mrs. Cheviot was found to be sufficiently recovered to be able to sit up. A rather more professional bandage encircled her head and she was distastefully sipping an evil-looking mixture. She managed to achieve a wan smile at sight of Carlyon, but she was still pale and evidently a good deal shaken. But some of her liveliness of mind seemed to have been restored, for Carlyon had not advanced two paces into the room when she observed in a dispassionate tone, “I have been recalling how you told me I might rest assured no disagreeable consequences would result from my marriage to your cousin. I wish you will tell me, my lord, what you deem a disagreeable consequence?”

He smiled. “Did I say that?”

“With some other untrue things. Indeed, you as good as told me you were rescuing me from all the horrors of Mrs. Macclesfield’s establishment, to set me up in peace and prosperity for the rest of my days. I was never so taken in!”

“I wonder why your mind runs so continually on Mrs. Macclesfield?” he said.

“Oh! One is apt, you know, to think wistfully upon what might have been!”

“My love,” interrupted Miss Beccles anxiously, “will you not come upstairs and lie down upon your bed as good Doctor Greenlaw advised you to do? I know you have the headache, and he has given you that draft to make you sleep, remember!”

“Yes, dear Becky, I will come, but not all the drafts in the world could bring sleep to me until I have had the opportunity to speak with his lordship. Do you go and desire Mary to put a hot brick in my bed and I will join you presently!”

Miss Beccles looked undecided but Carlyon interposed to assure her that he should send Mrs. Cheviot upstairs within a few minutes. So after placing the smelling salts within reach and begging Elinor not to forget to finish her draft, she flitted away.

“Well, Mrs. Cheviot?” Carlyon said, walking over to the fire and stooping to warm his hands at it. “You have had rather a disagreeable experience, I am afraid, and I am persuaded you blame me for it.”

“What should put such a notion as that into your head?” marveled the widow. “When I understand you have been in London since yesterday!”

“Oho! That is it, is it? But it seemed to me expedient that I should go to London, and you will give me credit for having made the best possible speed back to you.”

“I shall give you credit for nothing. I dare say you went to be measured for a pair of boots!”

“No, but if I told you my object you would think it trifling, I dare say.” He straightened himself and said, smiling, “Are you very vexed with me for leaving you, ma’am?”

Mrs. Cheviot felt her color rising and made haste to reply,”

“Vexed! No, indeed! When you were so thoughtful as to inform Nicky that you believed Mr. Francis Cheviot to be a dangerous man! I am sure I ought to be very much obliged to you for the warning, arid it must be quite my own fault that I now have a bump as big as a hen’s egg on my head!”

“It is a pity Nicky cannot learn to hold his tongue,” he remarked. “I do not anticipate that Cheviot will be a danger to you, ma’am.”

Mrs. Cheviot recruited herself with another sip of her draft. “Of course I have dreamed the whole!” she said. “I was not hit on the head at all!”

He laughed. “You are refining too much upon the event, Mrs. Cheviot. I am sure it gave you a fright but there is not much harm done and it is unlikely that you will suffer any further annoyance.”

“Oh!” she gasped. “Oh, how abominable you are! Not much harm done, indeed! Further annoyance! Pray, in what terms would you have described my murder?”

He did not answer for a moment, and then he said curtly, “We are not discussing murder, ma’am.”

“You will be, if you mean to keep me tied to this dreadful house!”

“Nonsense! If it was Francis Cheviot who struck you, as I believe it was, I dare say it was the last thing he wished to be obliged to do.”

“I may take what comfort I can from that! But why should he have been obliged to do anything of the sort?”

He hesitated and then said, “You were holding in your hand some folded papers that might have been the very papers he wishes to obtain.”

She gazed up at him, one hand pressed to her temple. “What must I now take care never to have a paper in my hand for fear I may be struck down from behind? My lord, it is monstrous! I dare say he must have seen me with papers in my hand half a dozen times already!”

“Yes, possibly, but—”

“But what?” she demanded, as he broke off and turned away from her to mend the fire.

“Perhaps it startled him, ma’am, and he sprang to a false conclusion. Whatever be the answer, upon my honor I do not believe you to be in any danger!” There was a pause, while she eyed him uncertainly. His countenance relaxed and he said, “Indeed, my poor child, you have had an uncomfortable time of it at Highnoons and I am a villain to keep you here. Shall I take you and Miss Beccles up to the Hall?”

The color rushed into her cheeks at this. She had the oddest desire to burst into tears, and sought refuge in one of her rallying speeches. “What, and leave that creature to ransack the house at will? No, indeed! I hope I am a little better spirited than that, sir! If I am to be martyred in this cause, no doubt it was so ordained, and I can depend on you for a handsome tombstone!”

“Indeed you can!” he replied smiling and putting out his hand? “It is a bargain then, and you will stay here.”

She laid her hand in his. “It is a bargain. But for how long am I to endure that creature abovestairs?”

“I should not wonder at it if you were to be rid of him sooner than you expect. I beg you will not tease yourself with thinking of him.”

Her eyes searched his face. “But will he go without what he came for, sir?”

“I hope he may be prevailed upon to do so.”

“Shall you so prevail upon him?” she asked,

“Perhaps. I shall do my possible. You have been troubled with him for too long.”