Miss Peterson & The Colonel (4 page)

'What about your new bonnet? You have not worn that at all since Lady Grayson purchased it for you last week.'

'I shall never wear that monstrosity. Good heavens, Martha, it looks more like a coal scuttle than something to wear on one's head. No, I shall wear my usual bonnet; the ribbons match my ensemble.' She picked up her reticule and pulled on her long calfskin gloves. 'What can be keeping the boys? I heard the carriage drawing up in front a moment ago. I shall go down. If they do not join me within the next five minutes we shall leave without them.'

With Martha hurrying behind her, she headed for the vestibule. Two small boys, miniatures of their father, raced to meet her at the bottom of the stairs, ignoring the remonstrations of their nursemaid.

'Aunt Lydia, you've been an age. We've been waiting here for hours and hours.'

'Arthur, I believe you are exaggerating. I understood you to be coming to my apartment. I have been standing there for a week at least. That is why
I
am late.'

George, a replica of his brother, threw his arms around her knees. 'I love you, Aunt Lydia. You are the bestest fun of anyone I know.'

'And I love you both, you are my favourite nephews.'

'You don't have any other ones.'

'That's enough, Master Arthur. Miss Peterson is waiting to leave, so stop your tomfoolery right now.'

The visit to the bookshop was a resounding success. The boys had, amongst other books, a copy of
Robinson Crusoe
and she a new novel called
Pride and Prejudice.
She'd also bought some writing requisites for herself and drawing paper and paints for the boys. These parcels were neatly packaged, secured with string and sitting beneath the squabs.

The carriage lurched and the coachman yelled for his horses to halt. Immediately Arthur was on his feet and lowering the window to hang out like an urchin.

'Sit down at once, Master Arthur, it's not seemly to hang out like that.'

The little boy ignored her. 'Look, George, there's a man running away.'

The nursemaid reached out to remove her charge. 'Come along, young sir, do as you're bid—'

Her words were lost as Arthur screamed in agony.

Chapter Four

The little boy crashed backwards, clutching his nose from which copious quantities of gore were pouring.

'Keep still, Arthur, we must stem the flow of blood.' There was no need for Lydia to rip up her petticoat to use as a cloth for both Martha and the nursemaid produced linen squares from their reticules.

'Let me deal with this, Miss Peterson, or you will spoil a second gown.' Martha was already on her knees, supporting the child with one hand and holding a folded linen square to his nose with the other.

'Aunt Lydia, won't Arthur have empty legs if he bleeds so much?' George asked.

'No, my love, a nose bleed seems far worse than it is. See, it's stopping now.'

The groom appeared at the window. 'Is everything well in here, Miss Peterson?'

'Yes, Master Arthur has a nose bleed. Tell Tom to return as swiftly as possible to Brook Street.'

The groom vanished and the carriage rocked as the horses were urged into a brisk trot. Tom drove around the stationary vehicles in front. As he cracked his whip, the groom shouted for unwary pedestrians to remove themselves from their path.

The swaying and bouncing jarred every bone in her bruised body. Arthur was back on the seat, revelling in his dramatic accident. 'Something hit me in the face! Did you see, Aunt Lydia?'

His brother shoved him. 'Serves you right. If you hadn't opened the window, it wouldn't have happened.'

'That's enough boys. Hold on tight or there shall be a second accident.'

*

Simon was determined to get up. 'Sam, fetch my robe. I'm not mouldering in my bed a moment longer. I shall sit in a chair by the window and watch the world go by in the street below.'

His man hurried from the dressing room. 'It ain't wise, Colonel, the quack told you to stay put. That's a nasty knock on the head you've got, and you ain't no lightweight. You collapse on the floor, then you'll have to stop there, that's for sure.'

His man had been with him these past ten years and was more of a friend than a valet. He'd accompanied him across the peninsula, making sure his billet was reasonable, his food – what there was of it – well cooked and ready when he returned, exhausted, from battle. This gave him the right to speak to him informally.

'Fair enough, I'll take my chances. Let me lean on your shoulder; my legs are none too steady.' With considerable relief he collapsed into a winged armchair. Sam was right. He would have been better off staying where he was. He'd not been sitting there long when he saw the Grayson carriage rattling towards the house. The occupants must feel as if they were being tossed about in a storm.

Whatever possessed the man to drive so recklessly?

*

The carriage rocked to a standstill at the front of the house. Their precipitous arrival had been observed by Ellen, who had been waiting by the drawing room window for their return. Lydia waved gaily, hoping to indicate there was nothing seriously wrong.

'Your mama is watching, boys. Pray do not make too much of the accident; we have no wish to alarm her. Remember, she is in a delicate condition and must not be upset.' The new baby was expected next month.

'We promise, Aunt Lydia,' the little boys replied.

Her sister greeted them with dismay. 'Good heavens, Lydia, disaster, as always, appears to be following you about. Did Arthur fall from the seat?'

'I didn't, Mama, I promise. Something came in the window and hit me on the nose. See, I'm covered in blood.'

'Indeed I can see, young man. You shall have a fine black eye as well. Now, run along upstairs with your nursemaid and let Nanny clean you up. Come down to the small drawing room when you are presentable. I shall have Cook prepare a delicious tea for us all.'

The children scampered off, leaving the poor nursemaid to keep up as best she could. Lydia smiled. 'Ellen, I cannot credit that
twice
in one day I have been covered in someone else's blood. Arthur was quite correct. We had halted because of some altercation just ahead, and a passerby threw in a stone which hit Arthur fair and square.'

'Never mind, my love. The incident was not your fault. Neither accident reflects on you in any way. The colonel is much recovered, by the by, and is determined to get up tomorrow. He is most insistent you should join him in the library at nine o'clock.' She smiled archly, and tapped Lydia on the arm. 'I believe you've made a conquest, I can think of no other reason he should wish to speak to you alone unless he intends to make you an offer.'

Lydia recoiled, catching her heel in the hem of her gown as she did so.

'Botheration! See what you made me do, Ellen. Not only have I ruined my pelisse, I've torn my gown as well.' Recovering her composure she stared crossly at her sister. 'You're talking fustian; Colonel Westcott dislikes me as much as I dislike him. He wishes to thank me for my part in his rescue, nothing more.'

She stomped back to her apartment, her sister's annoying laughter following her. Surely she'd not been mistaken in her assessment? They had done nothing but argue since they'd met last week.
She
believed that society was unfair to women and allowed them no freedom to live their lives.
He
believed a gentleman's prerogative was to take control and that a female was incapable of making a rational decision or running her own life successfully.

She snorted inelegantly, startling two footmen who were balanced precariously on stools, dusting the picture rails. She fixed them with a stony glare and they hastily resumed their work. How she hated being constantly observed! She longed to return home where she was free to roam about her estate without being gawped at by overzealous servants.

*

Simon roared for his man and Sam came bustling in. 'You want to go back to bed, sir?'

'No I don't, Sam Smith. I want you to go downstairs at once and see why my nephews and Miss Peterson have returned in such disarray. Some mishap has befallen them. I wish to know what it was.'

He closed his eyes, waiting for the pounding in his head to subside. An image of the girl danced behind his lids. He'd not realized how well-proportioned she was, how elegant her gowns were. How could he have ever thought her plain? When his manservant returned and told him the tale, he laughed.

'I think I shall return to my bed; whatever I say, do not let me get up until tomorrow. I wish to be dressed and downstairs by nine o'clock.  I have an appointment with Miss Peterson that I do not intend to miss.'

*

Martha was awaiting her return. 'If you give me your garments, Miss Peterson, I shall soak them in milk immediately. I reckon the stains will come out.'

'I'm sorry to say, Martha, but I've also torn the hem. Perhaps it would be better if I remained in bed the rest of the day. I cannot imagine what other disasters might befall me before the sun sets.'

She had eaten nothing since she rose and the thought of Cook's freshly baked scones and strawberry conserve drew her to the small drawing room. She was crossing the vast hall when the butler accosted her.

'Excuse me, Miss Peterson, where would you like your purchases to go?'

The books; she'd quite forgotten about them in the excitement of the accident. 'The drawing paper, paints and children's books go to the schoolroom, please, Foster. The rest can go on the bookcase in my sitting-room.'

'Very well, miss, I shall have them sent up immediately.'

Forgetting about the books, she headed for the chattering and laughter she could hear along the corridor.

The following morning, Lydia dressed in her freshly sponged habit. She couldn't ride before meeting the colonel in the library but would go immediately afterwards. This gave her ample time to break her fast before she went to the stables.

When she arrived she heard raised voices coming from the library. Surely that was her brother-in-law? Something was amiss. The double doors were standing open and the butler, Foster, was dithering in the doorway wringing his hands. She stepped around the agitated man and walked in.

Her eyes widened. A scene of devastation greeted her: books were strewn all over the floor, tables and chairs upturned, and the French doors at the far end of the room swung wildly from broken hinges.

'Good gracious! We have been burgled.' Identical heads turned and both men stared at her. Westcott answered, his eyes glinting with amusement. He looked remarkably robust for a man with eight stitches in his wound.

'Miss Peterson, how observant you are. We should not have noticed had you not pointed this out to us.'

She giggled. 'The blow to your head has obviously addled your wits, sir. The question was rhetorical. But why? What on earth were they looking for?'

Lord Grayson frowned. 'That's that we were discussing, my dear. The internal doors were not locked. They could have progressed further and stolen something of value. For some reason they remained in here.'

'Perhaps they feared they were about to be discovered, Edward.'

'That seems the likely explanation. In future I shall insist Foster closes the shutters every night. The rooms that face the garden are usually left unbarred, only the front of the house is secured in this way.'

She shivered. The icy blast coming in through the broken doors made the room decidedly unpleasant.

'I shall help restore the room later. I know where most of the volumes go.' She bent down and retrieved a book on the flora and fauna of Suffolk. 'I think the damage is minimal. It looks far worse than it is.'

The colonel raised an eyebrow and she waited for his riposte. None was forthcoming this time. Instead he smiled. Her insides somersaulted and her toes curled in her boots.

'Thank you for your offer, my dear, but I doubt you will be able to. I quite forgot: your head stable lad is downstairs in the kitchen. He arrived an hour ago. I believe there is some emergency at home. Your brother wishes you to return as soon as possible.'

'Thank you, Edward. I shall speak to him at once.'

Not waiting to hear more, she ran from the room taking the back stairs to the basement kitchen. Her favourite mare was due to foal next month.
She
must be the emergency. She burst into the kitchen and Fred scrambled to his feet and touched his forelock.

'Fred, tell me at once why I am required home today?'

'Black Bess is showing signs of premature foaling, Miss Peterson. The master thinks it would be best if you returned. The mare will not settle without you at her side.'

'I can be ready in an hour or two. I must speak to Lady Grayson and say goodbye to my nephews before I leave. That should allow your mount time to recover. Have you spoken to Billy?'

The young man nodded vigorously. 'I have, miss. Will you be travelling in Lord Grayson's carriage?'

'I sincerely hope so. I took a tumble yesterday and am not up to riding thirty miles.' There was another thing she must do as well. She had to speak to the colonel.

The two men were waiting for her in the passageway. 'Can I have the carriage, my lord? The emergency is as I thought, a mare in difficulties.'

'You can, my dear. We shall not be requiring the vehicle today. You will not leave without speaking to Ellen, I hope?'

'Of course not. I shall go and change and get Martha to pack. We must leave as soon as we can. The lanes in our part of Essex make slow going for a coach.'

A slight cough attracted her attention. 'I shall wait for you in the small drawing room, Miss Peterson. I trust you will spare me a few minutes of your time before you leave?'

She flushed. 'Yes, Colonel Westcott, I'll be with you directly. I intend to breakfast before I depart.'

She was with him in less than a quarter of an hour, which obviously surprised him for he was lounging on the day bed with his boots on the seat. He jumped to his feet and bowed formally. She dropped a neat curtsy and waved him back to his position.

'Miss Peterson, there are two things I must say to you. First, I owe you my most sincere apologies. My brother told me you were an expert horsewoman but I did not believe him. I thought your grey was bolting with you and snatched you from the saddle in order to save you.'

'That is as I thought, sir, a misunderstanding. I took you to be an abductor. I should never have unseated you otherwise.'

'Good, we are making progress. But far more important, I owe you my life. If you had not got me back on my feet and home, I might well have perished before anyone could return to assist me.' He was leaning forward, his dark blue eyes holding her captive.

'Helping you was the least I could do. You would not have been in that predicament but for my actions.'

'In that case, let us cry quits. Perhaps we could start again? We have been at daggers drawn this past week. I would much prefer to be on good terms with you.'

This seemed harmless enough. After all, was she not about to depart for the country? 'That will be quite acceptable. I can assure you my nature is not to be argumentative.'