Patricia Veryan - [Sanguinet Saga 07] - Married Past Redemption (18 page)

Now, she asked, "Then, there is nothing broken after all?" and
wondered why, if that were so, the doctor had made such a fuss,
insisting that her husband take to his bed so that the arm could be
properly splinted and placed in a sling.

"To the contrary, I suspect several small bones may be either
fractured or broken," Bellows said. "Shame it's his right hand.
There'll be no keeping him inactive for long, even so. Still, for the
time being he must stay quiet, ma'am. I cannot get laudanum down him,
but I'll leave you these powders. Three a day in a glass of water. They
taste foul, so he'll make a great fuss. But it will keep him quiet, at
least. A very light diet, if you please, and I will come back tomorrow
to see how he goes on. No need to show me out, m'dear. I know me way."

She expressed her intention of obeying his instructions
implicitly and returned to the bedchamber.

Strand had already been subjected to one of the powders and
lay
watching her with a drowsy but irked look on his thin face. His hair
was rumpled, and in the white nightshirt with his bandaged arm strapped
across his chest, he looked rather astonishingly youthful and
defenceless.

Discovering that Brutus panted beside the bed, Lisette knew a
pang
of guilt and said, "I am indeed sorry that you have had so much
distress, sir. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

"You can take out that revolting animal and shoot it," he
muttered malevolently.

"But of course. I do not know what Lord Bolster will think of
so
flagrant a violation of my given word. But I must henceforth be guided
by my husband in all things. Including—conduct." His eyes sharpened
predictably, and she said with sweet martyrdom, "I should not wish to
inflict such a task on Best, for he is so kind a man. Perhaps I could
do it. I have watched my brother shoot at Manton's, so I am not afraid
of handling a pistol."

"Are you not? I shall have to remember that," he drawled
thoughtfully. Lisette being unable to restrain a dimple, he stared at
it, then growled, "You may well laugh, madam wife. The fact remains
you've not yet begun to know that curst brute's habits! I was never so
glad as to be rid of him, and I count it downright treacherous of you
to saddle me with him again. He is a pest, ma'am. He eats like a horse,
is totally unreliable as a guard, snores like a volcano, and—"

"And seems most fond of you, sir," Lisette put in meekly.

"Which verifies his stupidity, else he would comprehend that I
cannot abide him."

"Yes, but he might more easily comprehend that fact were you
to stop caressing him."

Strand glanced to the side and hurriedly snatched back the
hand that
had been absently fondling Brutus. "I—er… had not realized…"

"Of course, you are half asleep. I will remove him and take
care he
does not disturb you again." She moved closer to bend over him and
seeing the look of shocked disbelief, enquired, "May I smooth your
pillows?"

Strand's eyes were becoming positively heavy, but he propped
himself
on one elbow as Lisette plumped his pillows. "I wish," he yawned, lying
back, "you would allow me… to…"

"Go to sleep," she adjured, and led Brutus from the room.

Strand lay quietly for a moment after the door closed behind
her.
Then he withdrew his left hand from beneath the eiderdown. For a long
moment he gazed at the object he grasped. A small square of fine lawn,
edged with dainty lace. He raised it to his lips and breathed the sweet
fragrance of it. Awkwardly, he sat up and with painful care placed his
prize in the drawer of his bedside table. Then he settled back down and
went to sleep.

Dr.
Bellows appeared to exert a powerful
influence upon his
patient, and for the two days following, Strand meekly submitted to
lying abed, swallowing the noxious drugs and drowsing the hours away.
By the third day he was beginning to grumble, however, and by the
fourth, he was up and about. Coming downstairs at ten o'clock, Lisette
was shocked to see him stride in at the front doors wearing riding
dress, and arguing with a clerical-appearing individual regarding the
benefits of allowing the south field to lie fallow for a season.

"Oh, there you are, my dear," he said, flashing Lisette an
impudent
grin. "This is my steward, Connaught. Connie—my wife. Now, I'm not at
all pleased by the look of things at Silverings. The boat dock is
downright rotted and must be attended to at once if we're not to lose
the whole this winter. Mrs. Strand, would you please ask Fisher to step
in here? As for-—"

"No," said Lisette clearly.

A sparkle came into Mr. Connaught's faded brown eyes. Strand's
head turned to his wife. Startled, he exclaimed, "Eh?"

"May I ask what you are about, sir?" She folded her hands and
regarded him with cool disapproval. "Dr. Bellows said you were not to—"

He laughed. "Oh, you mustn't pay too much heed to our'
Bellows-to-mend. He's a good enough old fellow, but a regular gloom
merchant. I'm doing splendidly. I've kept my arm in this confounded
sling for—"

"Three days," she nodded. "Dr. Bellows said three weeks—at
least."

"Nonsense. A far too conservative estimate, m'dear. I'll be
fully restored long before that. Give you my word."

His eyes held a mocking glint. Lisette blushed and retreated,
but at
the door she turned back. "Did you have a nice ride, Strand?"

"Very nice. I shall roust you out soon, ma'am, for there's
something I must show you."

"It shall have to wait, sir. I must insist there be no more
riding
today." Strand looked astounded, and she turned to his amused steward.
"I am sure you understand, Mr. Connaught, that the master's recovery
must not be impaired."

The gleam brighter than ever in his eyes, Mr. Connaught bowed
and
said he certainly understood. In fact, he was only going to stay
another minute or two.

"Thank you," said Lisette. "That would be considerate in you."

Staring at the door as it closed behind her, Strand muttered,
"Well, I'll be damned…"

"Nothing like having a lady around the house, is there, sir?"
asked Mr. Connaught. "Especially so lovely a lady as your own."

Strand was silent for a long moment. Then, "No," he said
slowly. "Nothing."

In
the hall, Lisette encountered Mr.
Fisher, winding the
grandfather clock that stood at the foot of the stairs in the wide
entrance foyer. "Good morning, Fisher," she said, captivating him with
her smile. "Could you tell me, please, has there never been a music
room in the house?"

"Years ago there was, madam," he answered, closing the clock
with
care. "It annoyed Mr. Rupert to hear practising, so the instruments
were all moved into the children's room."

"The children's room?" Moved by a sly impulse, she asked, "Oh,
is that at Silverings?"

"No, madam. Mr. Rupert never cared for Silverings, though it
had at one time a quite splendid music room."

So Silverings belonged to the Strands. "I see. But my husband
is fond of the place, I believe."

"Very fond. Would you wish to see the children's room, madam?''

Lisette indicating an interest, Fisher led her outside, past
the
barn and through a shrubbery having in the centre a cleared space in
which stood what looked like an enclosed summer house. Unlocking the
door, he said, "Shall I wait, madam? Or would you care to stay for a
time?"

"I would. Thank you."

Left alone, she wandered about curiously. The room was
surprisingly
spacious and well kept up. In addition to chairs and tables, there was
a small pianoforte which she soon determined was in excellent tune, a
harp, a mandolin, and a case holding a fine violin. She sat at the
piano and played for a while, well pleased with its tone and action.
She did not turn when the door was softly opened, guessing that Strand
had come seeking her, but when he did not speak a sudden unease caused
her to spin around on the stool. She gave a gasp of shock. James Garvey
stood in the doorway, smiling fondly at her. He swept off his
curly-brimmed beaver and bowed low. "At last!" he breathed, coming
quickly into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Oh, my poor creature. How wan you look! Does he ill-treat
you?"

"Wh-whatever are you doing here? Mr. Garvey, I—"

"James—I beg! Just to hear it on your lips!"

"Oh, James, then. You must be mad! Does my husband know you
are here?"

He shrugged, stepping closer to regard her with eyes aglow
with
adoration. "How could he? I understand he is confined to his bed after
a small accident. I rushed here at once, to console you."

"Good gracious!" she exclaimed, walking around him to the
door. "You
are not very well acquainted with my husband, sir, else you would know
he is scarcely the type to remain in bed."

Her hand on the doorknob was restrained as his own closed over
it.
"Lisette, my goddess of beauty, stay a moment, I implore you. All these
weeks I have been desolate."

She said with asperity, "If my husband finds us alone here,
Mr.
Garvey, we are liable to be a good deal more than desolate. Now, you
must please leave before—"

"Not yet! Do you suppose I rode all this way to be frightened
off by
the likes of Justin Strand?" He carried her hand to his lips despite
her efforts to free it and, gazing down at her, murmured, "I love you
still. You are everything feminine—everything pure and lovely. My
adored Lisette, when may I see you? Can you get away from him? Could
you come to—"

The door opened suddenly. Lisette gave a little squeak of
fright and
wrenched her hand free. Garvey turned lazily, quizzing glass upraised
and a mocking smile on his lips. "Oh, but how very embarrassing," said
he.

Charity Strand stood on the threshold. "M-my—my apologies!"
she gasped, and fled.

Garvey laughed. Lisette said furiously, "Oh, but that was too
bad of you, James. Now Justin will come, and—"

"Have no fear, beloved. I can handle your irate husband,
should he object, which I rather doubt."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Merely that while he may not be very bright, I'd not take him
for the reckless type."

"Be that as it may—" Lisette frowned—"he is my husband. I
insist that you leave at once."

He instead stepped closer, and took her by the shoulders. "Did
you
despair, my lovely one? Did you think I had abandoned you? Never! I
shall adore you for as long as I live."

His green eyes were soft with love, his handsome face hovered
above
her, and here was more romance in a few moments than she'd had from
Strand in the two weeks she had been wed to him. Yet, oddly, she was
more irritated that enchanted. "You are very good, and truly, I am most
grateful for your concern, but I am a married woman now. Whatever might
have been is—is past redemption." He looked so downcast that she was
moved to add kindly, "Sir, you have every quality to charm a lady, and
there are so many in London who must, I am sure, admire you."

He sighed. "But only one who has my heart." Lisette turned
away, and he said, "Married, my lovely dream—married… but perhaps
not
past redemption."

"James," she said, searching his face, "you would not do
anything foolish?"

He laughed easily. "I never do anything foolish—save to say
farewell
to you, my goddess. But before I go, promise me this. If you ever need
me, if he ever ill-treats you, you will at once send word. Promise,
Lisette?"

She nodded. "I promise." And thought it quite nonsensical.

Returning
to the house, Lisette found
Strand and his sister
in the library. Their conversation terminated rather abruptly when she
entered, but it soon became apparent that Charity had not spoken of
what she had witnessed in the children's room. She had stopped, she
said, for a brief visit en route to spend a month or two with the
Leiths at Cloudhills.

"Which is quite absurd," said Strand. "This is your home, and
always will be."

"Yes, and I should be most glad of your company," Lisette put
in. "I
miss my own family so badly, and it would be delightful if you could
stay."

Charity was adamant, however. She would not dream of
interrupting a
honeymoon. "If the truth be told," she said with a glance at Lisette,
"you will get little enough of privacy here, and will likely have a
steady stream of visitors. You should have gone away, Justin."

He attempted a gesture, forgetting his broken arm, and winced
slightly. It was sufficient for both ladies to demand he rest for a
while before luncheon and, grumbling that his life was as ordered as
though he were a small boy, he went contentedly upstairs to do as he
was bid.

When they were alone, Lisette turned to her sister-in-law.
"You did not tell him."

Charity shook her head. "I hoped there was nothing of import
to tell."

. "Thank you. And there truly was not. Mr. Garvey had just
arrived
with—with a message from my family, and sought me out in the garden."
It must, she knew, sound false, especially since Garvey had been
kissing her hand when Charity had burst in on them.

"I had heard Mr. Garvey is—er, devoted to you," Charity said
in a
worried voice. "But truly, he has a—a rather unsavoury reputation where
ladies are concerned. If my brother thought—"

Lisette summoned a small laugh. "That I have taken a lover
after
less than a month of marriage? Good gracious! You must suppose me fast
indeed!"

"Oh, no, no! I only meant that it might be necessary for you
to tell my brother, does Mr. Garvey continue to annoy you."

It was said so earnestly, and the girl's sweet face was so
troubled
that Lisette could not take offence and, patting her hand, agreed,
"Indeed it might. But not, I think, while Strand has only his left
hand."