The Impossible Ward (22 page)

“Most willingly. Shall we take the gig?”

Marianne’s forehead creased as she pondered this, but he was such a small boy. Surely he could not have gotten far and the gig might be a hindrance in the woods. “I think not. Here is Coleman. He’ll take care of stabling Bonnie. Let’s go on foot.”

The two girls set a brisk pace toward the home wood for, as Marianne reminded Sophia, “Richard has grown very adventurous of late, and trees have fascinated him ever since Andrew took him up behind him one afternoon for a ride through the woods. It seems he has a consuming desire to climb a tree, though most of these would be too high. Still there is the occasional low spreading chestnut or oak.”

“Did he take Nuisance with him?”

Marianne stopped abruptly and regarded her friend with respect. “Now, how did you guess that? At least, the dog is missing too, so we assume they are together.”

Miss Huntingdon laughed. “That absurd dog is another of Richard’s all-consuming passions, is he not? He seems a delightful child, though I have not had the pleasure of meeting him often.”

The girls were out of sight of the Hall now because the terrain was uneven, though basically they had been on a downhill course. They began calling to Richard but with no success. After ten minutes or so, Sophia looked at her friend and said uneasily, “It would be awfully difficult for a small boy to avoid losing his way amongst these paths.”

Marianne bit her lip. “I know, and it is quite damp and cold in here too. Perhaps he stayed on the lane or headed for the village after all. Let’s go just a little further. There is a large tree by itself at the edge of a field a short distance away. I believe Andrew took him in that direction once.”

They continued calling to the boy but were answered only by the muted woodland noises. It seemed almost as silent as an empty cathedral in the pauses between their calling. They could see quite a distance now as the trees thinned and could glimpse a field and a row of hedges ahead. They continued to call at intervals, though always unsuccessfully. They were almost out of the trees entirely when Marianne gripped her friend’s arm.

“I thought I heard something!”

“So did I. A dog barking, perhaps?”

Redoubling their efforts, they added Nuisance’s name and were rewarded as the barking sounded clearer. It also sounded frantic, and the girls began to run toward the noise.

“Richard! Can you hear me? Answer me, Richard!”

Marianne erupted breathlessly from the edge of the wood and cast her eyes swiftly over the field. As Sophia panted up after her she pointed to an enormous, low-spreading oak overlooking the field.

“Look!”

The furiously barking pup left his post at the foot of the huge tree to come running up to the girls. He circled them, wildly barking a sharp welcome until Marianne forcibly restrained his efforts. “Quiet, Nuisance, quiet, I say! Good dog.” She patted his head and gentled him for a moment until he had calmed somewhat.

Meanwhile Sophia had approached the tree where a very small figure perched at least twenty feet above the ground with his arms wrapped tightly about a branch. So far he had not uttered a sound.

“Do you think he was treed by an animal?” she asked doubtfully

Marianne chuckled. “He was treed by overweening ambition. The poor child is paralyzed by fear.”

She was unbuttoning her pelisse as she spoke and shortly cast it to the ground. “I shall have to climb up for him. Fortunately this skirt is quite full.” As Sophia watched silently and Nuisance whined softly, Marianne bent over and grasped both back and front hems of her red skirt in her hands and drew up its folds between her legs. She unfastened the ribbon sash about her waist, and bringing the skirt hem high, retied the ribbon to bind the fabric tightly at the waist, thus fashioning herself a type of pantaloon to make climbing easier.

“Richard,” she called in a conversational tone, “can you climb down from that tree?”

A pause, then a very small voice answered, “No.”

“That’s all right,” came the cheerful reply. “You have done splendidly so far. Shall I come up and get you?”

Without waiting for the faint affirmative that eventually drifted down she was already making her careful way up to his perch. It was a perfect tree for climbing, small wonder Richard had felt the challenge too strong to resist. As she attained the branch below the boy she kept up a calm flow of conversation.

“I am going to help you down, Richard. It is a very easy thing, but you must do exactly as I say. Is that understood?” Again came the faint affirmative, but when Marianne put her hands on his hips and told him to let go of the branch so she might guide his feet downward, his grip tightened, if that were possible. Thoughtfully she noted the tear-stained cheek and trembling lip. “Cousin Andrew will be so pleased to know you are big enough to climb trees like ... like a soldier, but soldiers have to follow orders, you know. If you can follow orders I’ll show you the best way to get down from a tree.
That
is much more difficult than climbing a tree, of course, and then you may tell your cousins and your mama that you know how to go up
and
down a huge tree.” Her soothing tones became brisk. “Now, the first order is to take one hand from your branch and put it here.” She indicated a slightly lower hold and was relieved to see that Richard was attending at last to her words as well as her voice. Slowly he loosened his clutch and did as she requested. She guided his feet as she cautiously backed down the tree. Sophia had moved into position at the foot of the tree to assist.

They had managed about half the descent when the faint but increasing rumble in her ears resolved itself into hoofbeats. Glancing through the bare branches, Marianne could see three riders coming through the field. The gentlemen from the Hall, of course, returning from their ride. She knew her bright red dress would be highly visible and was glad that Richard would be able to ride home. She could see Lord Andrew out in front. Evidently he had seen her and veered from his course. Suddenly she was seized with a brilliant inspiration. She had both hands on Richard’s waist now and, since he was obeying her, she brought him down onto the same branch on which she was located.

“Sophia!” she called urgently, “Can you get Richard? I feel so dizzy.”

Instantly the younger girl climbed into the lowest branch and reached up for the next, unmindful of her hampering skirts. Richard had frozen again, but Miss Huntingdon’s voice was as soothing as Lady Marianne’s had been, and he relaxed once more and obeyed her.

Marianne was watching the horsemen galloping closer, hoping Lord Andrew would stay out in front and wondering if she dared go any higher to give credence to her story. She decided she had best remain where she was and, imitating Richard, locked her arms around the branch and clung, though she turned her head for as good a look as possible at what was happening below.

Lord Andrew arrived at the tree and flung himself off his horse in time to assist Sophia.

“I’ll take him now, Sophie; pass him to me.” Miss Huntingdon, trying to guide Richard’s feet and feel where to put her own with the encumbrance of her skirts, was most relieved to be able to stay put and hand the boy down into his cousin’s arms. On Lord Andrew’s orders she waited patiently while he set the child on his feet before returning to assist her down from the last two branches.

Lord Andrew was gripping her tightly above the elbows, eyeing her with concern. “Good girl, Sophia, love. What happened?”

Miss Huntingdon went a becoming pink at this form of address, but managed to stammer, “Marianne ... she ... she felt dizzy.”

Lord Andrew looked up, startled, having completely forgotten the silent girl ten feet above. “I’ll get her.”

The marquess and Sir Martin had arrived and the former was already setting his foot on the lowest branch and swinging himself up. “Do not move, Marianne! You are perfectly safe.”

Safe!
In her consternation Marianne had never felt less safe in her life! She had not looked for this complication when formulating her brilliant scheme to test Lord Andrew’s feelings for his childhood friend. Irrelevantly she wondered if she had appeared just so anxious when climbing up after Richard as Justin did now. If so, then it was little wonder the child had not immediately responded to her calm tones. After the one look she averted her face and clung to her branch while her brain hastily proposed and rejected possibilities and explanations. With an interested audience just below she could explain nothing. She would have to brazen it through. She was appalled to realize that a wild desire to succumb to hysterical giggles was fast overcoming her. Fiercely biting her lip, she concentrated on the rough brown-gray bark of the tree three inches from her nose, fighting back the laughter that
would
rise in her throat. At this rate he’d consider her a prime candidate for Bedlam. The thought sobered her momentarily.

“Are you all right, Marianne? Has the dizziness passed?” Justin’s voice at her side, slightly below hip level.

“Yes.” Slowly she turned her head but avoided looking directly at him. “Yes, I am quite recovered now,” she gasped. “I’ll be able to get down by myself. Do you go down and I’ll follow you.” Her voice shook with the effort required to choke back the laughter.

Justin had been taking in the delightful expanse of ankle and leg left exposed by her hastily contrived “breeches.” Now he looked up and his voice, though low, was absolutely compelling.

“Look at me, Marianne.”

Reluctantly she lowered her gaze from the fascinating tree bark and met his intent look, pressing her lips firmly together. She endured a stare that seemed to last forever, then comprehension began to dawn and he said very softly, “You scheming little witch. You are no more dizzy than I am.”

“Please don’t give me away,” she begged in a frantic whisper, and now all desire to giggle had passed. “Sophia would be so embarrassed and so would Andrew.”

“Sophie might, but it would take more than this incident to embarrass my brother,” he replied dryly. “However, you may rest easy. Now that you have started this, we shall have to see it through. And that will be your punishment, my little matchmaker, to be thought a weak female, given to vapors.” He chuckled at her indignant look. “Well, would you prefer to confess all?”

“Of course not,” she hissed, “but I am quite recovered now and can get myself out of this tree.”

“Oh no, my dear girl! Since you are given to fits of dizziness in high places, you shall be compelled to accept my assistance.”

“Hey, up there! Is everything all right? Do you need help in getting Lady Marianne down?” called Sir Martin.

“Well?” asked the marquess softly. “Do you require additional help?”

“No, no,” she conceded, sighing in defeat, “please let us get down from this wretched tree, and I hope lightning may strike me if ever I climb another one.”

Justin smiled and called below, “I can manage alone, thanks. Marianne is almost recovered. We’ll take the descent slowly.”

Marianne cast him one fulminating glance, then turned her shoulder on him and proceeded to pull her skirt hem out of the sash. At least she would make no more of an exhibition of herself than was absolutely required.

All during the excruciatingly slow descent she seethed inwardly as Justin ostentatiously placed her feet for her and kept up a constant stream of encouraging chatter that set her teeth on edge. His warm hands on her ankles roused all sorts of desires in her, the best understood of which was a furious urge to kick him.

Sir Martin was waiting with her pelisse which she thankfully donned. By now her hands were numb with cold and she made no demur when he buttoned her into the garment though she was not unaware of Justin’s disapproving mien. However when Sir Martin offered her a ride home her trustee said brusquely:

“Mountain is a far stronger horse. I’ll take Lady Marianne. If you, Martin, will carry the boy, Andrew can take Miss Huntingdon up before him. They are all quite chilled.”

Sophia was looking at Marianne, a mixture of concern and puzzlement in her warm glance. “Poor Marianne, how horrid for you. And you went up that tree so fearlessly too.”

“Yes, well I was fine while I was thinking about Richard. It was only when I looked down that I began to feel dizzy.” Her explanation sounded weak in her own ears and she carefully avoided Lord Andrew’s eyes. He made no comment and proceeded to assist Miss Huntingdon onto his horse.

The marquess inserted smoothly, “Lady Marianne is learning that there is a price to pay for one’s impulsive acts on behalf of others.” He lifted Richard up before Sir Martin who said warmly to ease Marianne’s obvious chagrin:

“It was a very brave act indeed, especially in view of Lady Marianne’s fear of heights.”

Naturally enough, this kind effort did little to ease Marianne’s discomfort. She smiled weakly at Sir Martin and glared at Justin as he held a hand down to assist her in mounting.

Richard, now that all danger was past, was inclined to view his exploit with some little pride. “I climbed up that big tree all by myself and then down again—almost,” he added with some concession to truth. “And Lady Marianne says it is much more difficult to climb
down
.”

This brought a shout of laughter from all three gentlemen and even a gentle chuckle from Sophia, while Marianne blushed furiously. She said severely to the little earl who was preening himself on making everyone laugh, “And now, young man, you shall have the task of explaining to your mama and Nurse just why you left the Hall without permission and without telling anyone where you were going.”