Miss Peterson & The Colonel (14 page)

A rush of indignation renewed her strength and she stepped back, tugging her arms from his grip. One thing was perfectly clear in all the muddle of the past twenty four hours: it was quite possible to love a gentleman and still have no wish to marry him. She had no doubt that their love would carry them through the first few months of their relationship, but after that they would be at constant daggers drawn. He would be pushing her to obey his every command and she would be fighting to retain her independence.

'You are right. We should have thought of that for ourselves. Return to the carriage. I'll find the three you've spoken of and send them to you.' He rubbed his eyes and straightened his shoulders. 'Squire Bentley, there's no need for you to remain. We have more than enough men to take care of things.'

'Very well, if you're certain. I have already instructed a dozen men to set out at first light to assist you. They shall also be bringing food and drink. You must be sharp set and your kitchen is totally destroyed.'

Lydia was strangely reluctant to leave. She could see that the colonel was only remaining perpendicular by sheer strength of will. He had been severely wounded scarcely two days ago. She wished he would come with them and get some much deserved rest before returning to take charge of matters here.

His head turned. Their eyes met and something of her worry must have shown in her expression. Instantly, he smiled. 'Go, my dear. I shall come to no harm. I am a veteran and have weathered far worse than this and emerged unscathed.' He pointed to the waiting carriages and she was obliged to comply.

Her legs turned to
blanc-mange
. The distance to the chaise seemed an impossible journey. She gritted her teeth. Neither the colonel nor her brother would get any respite and all
she
had to do was somehow force her recalcitrant limbs to carry her to safety.

Before she could protest, she was lifted from her feet and held close to his heart. He said nothing as he strode towards the carriage. There was no need for words. His actions told her more than any pretty speech could do.

Martha was waiting for her. 'Here, sir. Let me take care of my mistress now.'

'Make sure you do, I hope to find her fully restored when I visit tomorrow.'

Squire Bentley appeared at the door. 'Well, ladies, I hope you will forgive me for joining you.'

'Are the men to travel in the other vehicle, sir?'

'They are, Miss Peterson. Thank God you thought of them. They will be well taken care of in my establishment, never fear.'

After a deal of shuffling, room was made for the stout gentleman. Lydia settled back on the squabs, too tired to respond. Why had the colonel said he would be coming to see her? It was all too confusing. She needed a hot bath and a good night's sleep before she thought about the significance of his remark.

Chapter Fourteen

Simon remained where he was until the carriages faded into the gloom. He yawned. It was still an hour or two until full light. There was nothing he or any of the men could do before then, so he might as well find himself a dry corner and get some rest. He was about to turn away when a flicker of movement on the drive attracted his attention. At last; it was Dawkins and his men.

'David, alert your staff to the arrival of the troops. They will need somewhere to stable their horses and fodder and water.'

'Are you sure? I can see nothing.' The young man grinned. 'However, I shall bow to your superior eyesight. There's room in the open barn where we put the horses each morning when their boxes are being cleared. and we have plenty of oats and hay.'

'They'll not be here for a quarter of an hour; ample time to get organized.' Simon swayed and David grasped his elbow.

'I think you should get some sleep, sir. I can direct Major Dawkins when he arrives.'

'Later. I must speak to Dawkins as soon as he arrives.; I intend to ride out with them to catch the traitors but I fear at the moment I am more likely to pitch headfirst into the nearest ditch.' He yawned. 'A hot drink and a few minutes rest will sort me out. Don't look so concerned.'

The young man laughed. 'I cannot let my future brother-in-law risk his neck. Lydia would not take kindly to your demise when she has only just…'

Simon was almost too fatigued to clarify the situation. 'You are way off the mark, I'm afraid. Miss Peterson and I have agreed that we do not suit. She requires an overindulgent spouse, to be allowed free rein, to have matters all her own way and that, as you might imagine, would not be possible if she were to become my wife.'

Instead of commiserating, David threw his arm around Simon's shoulders. 'And do you wish to have a meek and subservient partner? You would die from boredom within the month.'

'I do not like to have my instructions ignored. It's in my nature to command.' His head was spinning. This was not an ideal time to discuss anything important. 'But I have not entirely given up the hope that I might convince your sister that she would be happier with me than on her own.'

'I should think not. Lydia has always been volatile, but she does not hold a grudge. Whatever intemperate words were exchanged, they will be forgotten by the time you see her again.'

Simon shrugged off the arm and strode away.
He
did not need to apologize,
she
did. But he could not consider the future until he'd had some rest. His vision was blurred and every bone in his body was protesting. He had a while before he was needed. He trudged through the arch and pushed open the tack room door.

The room was bursting with wet men steaming in the fug created by the closely packed bodies and roaring brazier. He propped himself against the doorjamb for a moment whilst he decided whether to find somewhere else or turn one of the occupants out. It was no longer raining, the wind had dropped and it was several degrees warmer than it had been yesterday.

Jenkins appeared at his side. 'Here, Colonel, put this round your shoulders and perch in the corner before you fall flat on your face.'

A space was made, a stool placed there and without further ado he was gently edged through the press of men. He collapsed with a sigh. Once he was leaning against the wall, he grabbed the mug and swallowed thirstily.

*

The jolting stopped and Lydia opened her eyes. Everyone inside was fast asleep apart from herself and Squire Bentley. He beamed at her. It was no longer dark; she must have been asleep for some while.

'Come, Miss Peterson. Allow me to escort you inside. My dear wife will be awaiting you. Leave these ladies to my staff.'

A footman in full livery assisted her down the steps. Good gracious! Yet another casualty in tonight's disaster. The squire had obviously roused his entire household. He was correct; it would be far better if her staff remained asleep until she was safely inside. If her maid awoke she would insist on accompanying her, putting her own needs to one side in order to take care of her mistress. Lydia was quite capable of looking after herself when necessary.

'Thank you, sir. It's most gracious of you to take us all in. Did I see a diligence leaving just now?'

'Indeed you did. A dozen men are on their way to help your brother and Colonel Westcott.'

Every window in the imposing mansion appeared to be ablaze. The front door opened as they approached. Mrs Bentley bustled down the steps, tutting and clucking. 'Oh dear, my, my, you poor thing. Come inside at once, child. I have a hot bath waiting and there will be a tray sent up to you immediately. My girl, Sarah, shall take care of you.'

Lydia caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she passed. Her lips twitched. She looked like a scarecrow, and she had quite forgotten she was dressed so inappropriately. It was fortunate she had no time for Society – her good name would be gone for good after tonight's escapade. She scarcely noticed which direction she was led by her hostess until she was ushered into a pretty parlour. Not one, but three girls curtsied to her. The apple-wood fire was a welcome sight. She would like nothing better than to flop onto one of the chintz-covered chairs and warm herself.

'Sarah, take Miss Peterson through and look after her. Jenny, you will assist. Mary, run down and fetch up the tray that Cook's prepared.'

The taller of the three stepped forward. 'If you would care to come this way, miss, we will soon have you warm and dry.'

Less than a half hour later Lydia was comfortably ensconced in bed with a tray across her lap. She thought herself too exhausted to have any interest in food, but devoured everything placed in front of her. The chocolate, warm and thick, was a perfect complement to the freshly baked rolls, strawberry preserve and golden butter.

'I'm finished. Thank you, Jenny. I apologize for causing so much disruption. I don't like to think of all of you being obliged to get up even earlier than normal on my account.'

'We're all happy to do so, miss. It's a terrible shame to have one's home burnt down around one's ears. Madam says you are to sleep as long as you wish, you will not be disturbed.' The girl pointed to a small bell on the night table. 'If you need anything, please ring and someone will come immediately.'

Lydia's yawn almost cracked her jaw. As she drifted off to sleep she wondered what she would wear when she did get up. Mrs Bentley was a head shorter and considerably wider than she. She could not recall if the Bentleys had any daughters of her size. She had no wish to meet the colonel looking anything but her best.

*

Simon blinked twice, rubbed his eyes, shrugged off his blanket and was on his way to the exit. He was pleased to note a couple of the men were no longer sleeping. They had returned to work.

It promised to be a fine, bright day, the rain had passed and the frost with it. Not exactly clement, but a great improvement on the previous few days. With luck the renegades would be rounded up later and he would be free to pursue the irritating, but totally adorable, Miss Peterson.

Her brother had been quite correct. Whatever their differences, they were meant to be together.

As he stretched and flexed his cramped limbs, a flurry of banging above him attracted his attention. Good. David's men were already repairing the stable roof. He must find the young man. He hadn't yet slept and would be a danger to himself and others if he was scrambling about inside the burnt building later.

Even in the gloom he recognised Dawkins at the head of the approaching troop. He raised his arm and the major saluted.

'Colonel, we saw the fire from miles away. Is everyone accounted for? We would have been here sooner but the wretched state of the roads made that impossible.'

'Welcome, Dawkins. Yes, thank the Lord, no one injured and all the livestock safe. Only the house has suffered real damage.'

Dawkins dropped from the saddle, steadying himself against his horse for a moment. Simon removed the small black book that had caused all this devastation and held it out.

'Westcott, you look like a vagabond. Thank you for protecting this. Your bravery shall not go unnoticed. You must tell Peterson that he will not be out of pocket over this. His home will be fully restored at government expense.'

'Excellent news, Dawkins, but no more than I would expect. Although I look disreputable at present, if you will allow me an hour I shall endeavour to return fully restored and ready to ride at your side.'

'I shall need time to get directions to the most likely places to seek the traitors. Also my men need rest and their mounts must be fed and watered. We should be ready to ride when you return. We shall not leave before full light.'

Simon nodded at David. 'Have you looked inside? I think the front of the house safe enough to enter; the roof is intact on that side. I doubt that Miss Peterson's accommodation is still habitable. Although the roof is not fully burnt there will have been sufficient damage to make everything inside unusable.'

The young man seemed unbothered by this information. 'Lydia will have to go back to London and stay with Ellen She can replace her wardrobe easily enough up there. I shall keep the male staff and ask my brother-in-law to take in the others until Bracken Hall is functioning again.'

'Good man – this is no place for a lady, even one as independent and courageous as your sister. With luck, the men and rations Bentley promised will be here at dawn.'

'I've had the cellar, in which we locked the villains, set up as a kitchen. We've all eaten – not a feast, but better than nothing.'

Simon slapped him on the back. He was sharp set and the thought of a change of garments and a hot meal of any sort filled him with delight. Such small pleasures were what kept a soldier on his feet during a difficult campaign.

The front door was hanging open and the sound of shifting furniture greeted him as he bounded up the steps. He would have to approach the apartment through a different route, the passageway that led to the library would be unusable.

'You can get to your rooms this way, Colonel. Follow me,' David said from behind him. They picked their way around the smoke blackened furniture in the drawing room, through the dining room and a second smaller parlour and they were outside his chambers. Someone was moving around inside.

'Good morning, Colonel Westcott. I was expecting you. There's warm water and clean clothes waiting.'

'And good morning to you, Sam. You look remarkably well, I hope you have found time to rest.'

His valet grinned. 'I snatched an hour; that'll do me for now. '

'I need to wash, shave and change but cannot ride out before I've eaten.'

It took both of them to remove his burnt boots. Sam shook his head. 'If you'll excuse me, sir, I'll see if I can find you a pair of suitable boots whilst you make your ablutions.'

It took both buckets of water to remove the soot and other dirt from his person. Eventually, freshly shaved and dressed, Simon was ready to leave. He stared sadly at the ruins of his favourite boots. 'I suppose I should be grateful that those are all I've lost, but they have seen every battle over the past five years. They had become almost a part of me. When I return I shall be going to visit Miss Peterson. Then we can all return to London and recuperate.' His borrowed footwear was a trifle tight, but would serve.

He was ready at the appointed time. Brutus was as eager as he to get off. Jenkins had pointed out to him that Edward's carriage was missing its lead horse. Unless they could find another that would do the job they would be obliged to remain where they were. Still, time enough to worry about such trivia when the traitors were apprehended. His mouth twitched. Of course, if the villains were captured the missing horses would be returned to them.

Major Dawkins brought his massive black gelding alongside. 'Westcott, how do you feel about swimming that new horse of yours across the river?'

*

The sound of the curtains rattling jerked Lydia from a deep repose. She opened her eyes to see sunlight checkering the floorboards. Good gracious! It must be late morning at the very least. She pushed herself upright, expecting to see Sarah or one of the other girls in attendance.

'Martha, are you well? You certainly look as fresh and smart as ever.'

'I'm sorry to wake you, Miss Peterson, but Lord Grayson has just arrived and is most anxious to see you.'

Lydia's stomach churned. She could hardly bring herself to ask the question. 'Is Lady Grayson unwell?'

'Lawks a mussy! Bless you, no. When the carriage failed to return as expected, he guessed something was amiss and set out at first light to discover for himself what had happened.'

'Did he come on horseback?'

'That he did not; he came in a chaise drawn by a pair of handsome bays.'

'Did Mrs Bentley find me anything suitable to wear, Martha?'

'Indeed she did. It's a trifle outmoded but will fit you well enough. I doubt that the matching kid half boots will be of any use. I'm afraid you will have to wear your riding boots.'