A Particular Circumstance (21 page)

But even the longest night must have a dawn and it seemed that she’d only just fallen asleep at last when Phoebe brought in some hot chocolate and toast. She managed to eat and
drink a little and then, after bathing Hugo’s still-sleeping face, she went to her own room to wash and change her clothes.

She and Phoebe said very little to each other. Although it was daylight, the household was barely awake and when Charlotte at last reached her room, she drew the heavy curtains and stretched herself out on her bed and closed her eyes. In spite of her body being bone-weary, her brain would not let her rest. She went over again and again her meeting with Hugo, when she’d found him so badly injured and, as she had thought, likely to die. Yet Doctor Armstrong had been quite positive that he was strong and would recover. Unless he died of a fever, that is.

Tears began to run down her face in the dimness of the bedroom, but even as they flowed, she was reliving the soft, sensuous feel of his mouth as it had moved so seductively over her own. She pressed the back of her hand to her lips in an effort not to cry and whispered, ‘Oh, Hugo, darling Hugo, I love you. I love you….’

Finally, her exhausted body was unable to keep going any longer and she slept fitfully, to be awakened by the arrival of her sister Kitty. Mrs Grayson was still confined to her room, but Kitty knocked gently on her door and came to tell her that Doctor Armstrong had arrived.

Somehow, as though she had managed to shut off reality for a few minutes, she hastily washed and dressed and quickly tidied her hair before going to join her sister in Mama’s bedroom. Her eyes immediately sought the restless figure on the bed. His own eyes were still tightly closed, his hands clutching the edge of the blankets as he tossed first one way, then the other.

Noticing her glance and the heavy pallor of her face, Doctor Armstrong said sympathetically, ‘I am so sorry your mama is still indisposed, Miss Grayson, but at least our invalid seems to have turned the corner.’

‘T … turned the corner?’ she said in a bemused voice.

‘Well, almost,’ he said. ‘Mr Westbury is still restless and a
little feverish, but wounds that are inflicted by knives often look very much worse than they are. The stitches are
mending
nicely and will probably be removed by the end of the week. God willing, by then, he should be on the mend. I think when Sir Benjamin visits tomorrow, he will find him much improved.’

The next day, her mama was also much improved and, in spite of her sleepless nights and the pain of her migraine, seemed back to her usual energetic self. Under her watchful gaze, Charlotte and Kitty continued to help with Hugo’s care and although he was not allowed to get dressed, Robert was on hand to shave him and help him with his more intimate needs. After Dr Armstrong had departed, Charlotte was sent to the parlour to have a rest and some refreshment. She left reluctantly and sat alone at the small dining table. The other women were busy at their various tasks and Robert was engaged in holding Hugo up while Mrs Grayson put a clean bandage on to his wound.

Charlotte managed to eat a little and drank thirstily before going up to her room. She removed her dress and washed herself, but instead of changing her clothes, she lay down on the bed, all sorts of thoughts whirling through her head, making it impossible to sleep. She closed her eyes and behind her lids saw again Hugo’s handsome face and firm mouth. He was not allowed even to leave his bed, but he could sit up, with assistance from Robert. What would she say to him when she had at last to meet his eyes? He had kissed her in a moment of fever or delirium and she had thoroughly enjoyed it. She hoped fervently that perhaps he would never be able to recall that moment when she had been both unable and unwilling to resist his kiss. She blinked back sudden tears of
shame. There was some excuse for such behaviour from a wounded patient, in a fevered moment, when delirium had overset his self-control, but for the well-brought-up daughter of a clergyman, none whatsoever. She hoped fervently that it would not be too long before he was able to go back to Westbury Hall.

As she lay agonizing with her thoughts and tormenting herself with feelings of regret and shame, Phoebe tapped on the door to say that Mrs Grayson requested her presence in Mr Hugo’s bedroom. Sir Benjamin and Mr Bunfield had arrived.

She dressed hastily and rinsed her eyes with cold water. As she looked in the mirror to tidy her hair, she deliberately raised her head and forced her drooping lips to try out a cool smile. That was better. A little powder would lessen the redness of her eyes and a few pinches to her cheeks would lend her pale face a little more colour.  

When she walked into the bedroom, she was more composed, but was still unable to meet the gaze of Hugo Westbury, who was sitting up in Mama’s bed, supported by three plump pillows and wearing a nightshirt which had once belonged to her papa. Her mother was sitting by the window, her hands quietly folded on her lap, her eyes downcast. It was obvious that she was not a player in the Runner’s
investigation
, but was merely observing the proprieties.  

Mrs Grayson’s bedroom was a large one and Robert had brought in extra chairs to accommodate the guests. Both gentlemen stood as Charlotte entered the room and bade her ‘Good afternoon’, to which she responded with a formal curtsy. Still she didn’t glance at the quiet figure on the bed, but sat as far away from him as possible, and looked attentively at Mr Bunfield.  

He opened the proceedings by saying gravely, ‘Well, Sir Benjamin, ladies and gentlemen, we all know what our
business
is here, this afternoon. Both Miss Grayson and Mr Westbury have suffered violence at the hands of local
criminals
.
I intend to bring them to justice and set them before the magistrate and already my scouts and I are on their trail. You need not fear. They will be forced to address the crimes they have committed.’

He bowed in Sir Benjamin’s direction and then, more softly, he spoke directly to Charlotte. ‘Miss Grayson, I trust you are somewhat recovered from your ordeal now and able to answer a few questions about the attack which was made on you and the circumstances of your meeting with Mr Westbury.’

‘Yes, I am, sir,’ she said in a low voice.

‘Did you recognize either of the two men who took part in this attack?’

‘Only one of them.’

‘And he was?’

‘Mr Alfred Westbury.’

She glanced across at Sir Benjamin and saw his shoulders sag a little, but almost immediately he straightened up.

‘And you say you did not know the other fellow. Would you recognize him, if you saw him again?’

Charlotte felt a tremor of fear go through her body at the thought of that rough grip and the vile, animal smell of him. Nevertheless, she raised her head and answered bravely, ‘Yes, indeed, Mr Bunfield. And I heard Mr Alfred Westbury call him “Butler”, as he told him to drive on.’

‘And do you have any idea of the motive for the attack on you? Was there any indication as to why?’

Charlotte thought quickly. She didn’t wish to suggest any emotional involvement with Hugo Westbury, and yet she wanted these criminals to be punished, not just for the attack on herself but for what they’d done to her darling Hugo. Dear Papa had always said that it was just as sinful to tell the truth with intent to deceive, as it was to tell an outright lie. With a silent prayer to his revered memory, she answered, ‘Alfred Westbury intimated that I might be the bait to entrap Mr Hugo Westbury.’

‘Do you remember his exact words?’

She did, but was definitely not going to mention the word ‘sweetheart’. With a deep breath, she said, ‘Alfred Westbury suggested that if they captured me, Mr … Hugo … Mr Hugo … Westbury would try … try to rescue me and they … would k … kill him and let me go.’

‘Tell me how you managed to escape, Miss Grayson.’

‘As I was driven towards Felbrook village, there was a
collision
with Squire Perkins, who was travelling to church in his gig. Alfred Westbury was stunned and the other man was … was … injured. I went to get help.’

‘And that was when you encountered Mr Hugo Westbury?’

‘Yes.’

Now, she did glance at Hugo. He looked both pale and tired, and yet … and yet … there was such a lively gleam in his eye as he looked at her, that she was obliged to look away and clench her hands tightly together in her lap. If he
remembered
the shameless way she had responded to his fevered kiss, she would sink with mortification.

‘Thank you, Miss Grayson. Now Mr Westbury, sir, prior to your meeting with Miss Grayson, where were you, sir, and what were you doing?’

Hugo sat a little straighter on his pillows. ‘I also was on my way to church, Mr Bunfield. I was just passing Felbrook
spinney
when the three men attacked me. I was stabbed by the ringleader. When I fought him off, they all ran away.’

‘One more question, Mr Westbury. You were not in your carriage, sir. Were you not out a little early for morning service?’

‘It was a beautiful morning, perfect for riding. I knew Sir Benjamin would be driving to church later and we would return to Westbury Hall together. One of the grooms would take my horse back to the Hall.’  

‘Did you recognize any of the men involved?’

‘No, but I have only recently returned to Norfolk after a number of years abroad.’

‘Thank you, sir. I hope this hasn’t been too much of an 
ordeal for you, on top of the dreadful injury that was inflicted on you.’

‘Not at all,’ said Hugo politely. Although his face was drawn and he rubbed his forehead wearily, he did not seem inclined to lie down, or close his eyes.

Sir Benjamin now spoke for the first time. ‘Jim Butler has disappeared but one of Hugo’s assailants was apprehended at Wells. He is to be brought before me for questioning and we will be able to find out if any other local men were involved, apart from Alfred Westbury,’ he said almost to himself ‘Miss Grayson. Are you sure that Alfred Westbury was unconscious when you got out of the carriage?’

‘Yes, Sir Benjamin.’

‘Then it is obvious that he recovered in time to make good his escape and so did his accomplice. Mr Perkins had no idea that anything was suspicious. He assumed you and Alfred were on your way to church, as he was himself. However, he recognized the driver as Jim Butler and the local watch have been alerted to look for him and apprehend him when he is found.’

Everyone was silent for a while and then Harry Bunfield spoke slowly. ‘For the moment, it would be well to let the villains think that they have got away with it and that they’ve managed to leave Mr Hugo Westbury for dead. If you agree, Sir Benjamin, I think we should keep very quiet about Mr Alfred Westbury’s involvement in the attempted abduction of Miss Grayson and the attack on Mr Hugo Westbury. Obviously, Squire Perkins may talk of the collision, but seemingly he was a little … ahem … worse for wear, so perhaps he will not be so eager to gab to his neighbours about it. His farmhands and Sir Benjamin’s groom dealt with the unfortunate horses involved and my constables have rescued the wrecked carriage
belonging
to Mr Alfred Westbury. There is absolutely no evidence of any accident now. The most important task at the moment is to ascertain Alfred Westbury’s whereabouts and I hope you will entrust that to me, Sir Benjamin.’

‘Of course,’ Sir Benjamin agreed.

Once again, his thin shoulders sagged and Charlotte thought how unutterably weary he looked.

There was more general talk now, about Hugo’s return to Westbury Hall and Doctor Armstrong’s opinion was that Hugo might be well enough in a couple of days.

Half of Charlotte was singing with delight at his recovery, but the other half was unaccountably cast into gloom by the prospect of his departure from Felbrook Manor. She was conscious all the time of the tension between them. Every contact with him was heightened by the memory of that kiss. He’d been so dependent on her help and that of Mama and Kitty, and she couldn’t help being more in love with him than ever.

But inevitably, the day dawned when the good doctor pronounced him fit to make the short journey up to the Hall and the coach with two stalwart footmen was despatched by Sir Benjamin to assist Hugo on his way. Although he looked pale, Hugo was still able to smile and wave as he was driven away.

Jane Grayson and her daughters were on hand to wish him farewell. They were silent now. It was early evening and the golden ball of the sun had all but disappeared, giving a slight chill to the atmosphere, and the house seemed a little emptier as they went indoors.

‘Well, my dears,’ Jane Grayson said as they entered the drawing-room, ‘even now, Phoebe is changing the bed linen and tonight I shall be in my own bedchamber again. What a strange happening, to be sure, that Mr Westbury should have been attacked like that. Let us pray that he is able to make a complete recovery and that the rogues who did it will be apprehended.’

‘Amen to that,’ said a familiar voice and they turned to see Matthew King appear suddenly and unannounced. ‘Forgive the intrusion, ma’am,’ he said with his usual gentle smile, ‘I was intrigued at the gossip in the village about Mr Westbury’s 
mysterious accident and I felt I had to find out how he does.’

‘Dear Matthew, come in. We are about to have supper. You young people entertain yourselves for a while, and I shall consult with cook.’

So saying, Jane Grayson sped away to the kitchen to make sure that an extra place would be laid for their guest.

After the initial greetings, Charlotte also excused herself and went up to her own room. She needed to get away from everyone and be on her own for a while. Without calling on Phoebe, she extracted a suitable evening dress and sat in front of her mirror, taking down her hair and brushing it out slowly, lulled by the comforting feeling of the regular strokes through her long hair.

Her thoughts turned once more to Hugo Westbury. She was puzzled by the attack on him, but also in the way that it had somehow been influenced by herself. Who could possibly know how much she had become attracted to Hugo Westbury and how much he had come to mean to her? Alfred? But how did he know her feelings? She was not close to him. She was never in his company. Had someone been observing Hugo and herself? Spying on them? As she changed into her evening dress, she gave a sudden shiver. No one knew where Alfred Westbury was. He was still at large and perhaps would be able to threaten her again. Thank goodness Kitty seemed to be in no danger from all this. She hoped Matthew would always look after her younger sister and wondered what was happening downstairs.

Left alone with Kitty, Matthew was at first constrained and shy, but as they had so much to talk about both of them became more natural, and when Kitty said artlessly how devoted her sister had been in nursing Mr Hugo Westbury, Matthew did not reply, but put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.

She gazed up at him, tremulously, her full, sensuous lips soft and gentle and her grey eyes suddenly darker and more intense.

‘Kitty, I have to talk to you,’ he said, and then suddenly, he was at a loss as to what it was he was about to say.

‘Yes, Matthew?’

Her grey eyes now seemed wider than ever.

‘I have to talk to you,’ he said again, but then he couldn’t help himself, and he bent his head and kissed her.

As his lips met hers, Kitty realized how much she’d been wanting this and gave herself up to the pleasure of the moment, filled with longing for him. She reached up to kiss his lips again, shyly but lovingly, and Matthew caught her close and kissed her brow, her cheeks, her throat, and Kitty stroked his glossy hair, smoothing it under her hands as she felt such a glow of happiness that she could hardly stand still.

But she pushed him away, smiling at him. ‘So, what did you have to talk to me about?’

‘Never mind talking just for the moment,’ Matthew said, and he drew her back into his arms. ‘I just want to kiss you again.’

Kitty surrendered herself to the magic of his kisses once more and they were silent for a while, but at last Matthew released her and stood looking down at her. Her grey eyes were almost silver now, shining and full of stars.

‘I love you, Kitty,’ he whispered. ‘I love you more than anything else in the world.’

They were both silent again and then he said softly, ‘Kitty, do you think you could forget that I … that I . . that Charlotte and I…?’

‘Yes, Matthew.’