The Kidnapped Bride (25 page)

There was amusement in his eye now. “No,” he conceded, “that is not the usual strategy. But you cannot deny, Countess, that he has been watching you these past days like a hungry puppy, whilst you have done little to dissuade him.”

“No, for he was not bothering me—only watching, as you say—and I had no wish to cause a scene that would upset her ladyship or Sir Percival.”

“It might have been better for all of us if you had,” he suggested gently.

“It might have been better for all of us,” she retorted, “had you been content to say your piece on the front steps instead of hailing me before
such
an audience!”

Nicholas put back his head and laughed. “Oh, Countess, you take the honors this time. What a thing to say!”

Sarah only grinned at him in passing, as she made her way to the terrace door, intending to follow Lady Packwood’s advice. She felt Nicholas’s eyes on her back as she left, but she did not turn, nor did she see him again before dinner.

Lady Packwood announced then that, since Lionel was pining for the delights of London (having, in fact, been too blue-

deviled to come down to dinner), Sir Percival had agreed to take him up to the metropolis himself on the morrow and see him established while, at the same time, attending to the business that awaited him there. Her ladyship, feeling that she would only be a nuisance to gentlemen intent upon gentlemen’s matters, meant to stay on at Ash Park, if dear Nicky would have her, until Sir Percival returned, at which time they would, if the mood was right, set off directly for the Continent.

Thanks to Lionel’s absence, the mood at the table was not nearly so strained as Sarah had feared it might be; nevertheless, the gaiety of past evenings was missing. She noted Colin’s gaze upon her more than once and thought he looked a bit under par, but she assumed idly that it must be her own attitude and everyone else’s affecting his.

The ladies adjourned to the library, and Nicholas followed soon after, informing his mother that Sir Percival had stepped outside to blow a cloud. The conversation seemed to lag, and Sarah was just thinking of bidding everyone else good night when the hall door opened and Colin stepped in, looking very uncomfortable indeed. His eyes sought out his uncle, who was leaning against the mantel shelf, and he swallowed hard before blurting, “Please, Uncle Nick, it was all my fault!”

T
HERE WAS A MOMENT
of stunned silence while the four adults looked at the boy in astonishment. He had been sent off to bed as usual after dinner, and although several of those present might have suspected he would not be asleep, none expected him to seek out his uncle in such a way. Nicholas recollected himself first.

“
What
is all your fault?” Colin hesitated and looked so miserable that Sarah wished she could help him but, knowing she could not, kept silent. He glanced at her, then back at his uncle. “Would you prefer to speak to me privately?” Nicholas inquired gently.

“Yes … no, sir,” the boy amended, lifting his chin. “It wouldn’t be right. Cousin Sarah should know, and I don’t mind Gram or Miss Penny. But you’re going to be angry,” he added bluntly.

“Then you’d best get it over with so that we may all be comfortable again, don’t you agree?”

Colin nodded slowly, one hand rather nervously plucking at a coat button. He opened his mouth once or twice and glanced at Sarah again, but no words came.

“Has it to do with Lionel?” Nicholas asked quietly.

Colin’s eyes flew to his, and his mouth opened slightly. He swallowed again and nodded. “Yes, sir. He said he has to leave and that it’s my fault, that because of me he insulted Cousin Sarah.” This time he looked toward his grandmother, but his gaze quickly returned to his uncle. Nicholas was frowning, and Colin bit his lip.

“How does he think it your fault?” Nicholas asked finally. “What did you do?”

Colin took a deep breath. “It was just ragging, because he was so nutty on Cousin Sarah, and I never meant anything to come of it. I guess he’s a bit sillier than I thought.”

“Lionel is
very
silly,” inserted his grandmother calmly, “but you have not explained things very well, you know. I expect your uncle wishes to know precisely what you said to him.”

“Precisely,” Nicholas agreed, shooting a speaking look at his mother. Sarah realized that Lady Packwood had spoken up in hopes of preventing Nicholas from barking at the boy, and it was clear from his look that Nicholas also realized it. Miss Penistone seemed to be giving all her attention to the piece of fancy work in her lap.

Colin swallowed again, then looked manfully into his uncle’s eyes. “I told him that Cousin Sarah was nutty about him, too,” he confessed. “I said she had told me so, that she thought he had beautiful eyes, that she was partial to red hair, that … that, she dared not speak to him for fear of you.” He had opened the budget, and now he avoided Sarah’s eyes and his uncle’s as well.

“Wretch!” Sarah muttered angrily under her breath, but then she glanced at Lady Packwood, who was having difficulty stifling merriment, and the humor of the situation was brought home to her. She looked at Nicholas. His lips were pressed together into a thin line, and he did not look at all amused, but he said nothing, merely fixing his stern gaze upon the culprit until the silence became uncomfortable.

Colin had been staring at the floor, waiting for his uncle’s wrath to descend upon him, but at last, he could tolerate it no longer and looked up with a sigh. “Are you going to punish me, Uncle Nick?”

“That remains to be seen,” Nicholas replied gravely. “You owe Cousin Sarah an apology for putting her in such an uncomfortable position. I think that after you have made it, I shall accompany you to your bedchamber, where we shall have a little chat. That should help me decide whether or not further punishment is necessary.” The boy looked as though he believed the conclusion to be foreordained, but Nicholas added softly, “I think you are truly sorry, Colin, and that is very important.”

“Oh, yes sir, I am,” Colin said stoutly. “I never meant …” He turned to Sarah. “Please believe I never meant to cause you embarrassment or discomfort. I never thought Lionel would … well, I’m very,
very
sorry. Must I apologize to Lionel as well, Uncle Nick?”

“No,” replied his mentor shortly. He strode across the room to the door, waiting for the boy to pass through.

“Nicky?”

Nicholas paused, shutting the door behind Colin, and turned to Lady Packwood. Sarah was astonished to note amusement in his eyes. “Don’t worry, ma’am. I’ve no intention of murdering him. But it is definitely time and past to discuss certain matters. I doubt he had any notion of the sort of mischief he might have caused.”

“Nicky will handle that well, I think,” commented Lady Packwood when he had gone. “Colin worships him, you know, so Nicky will be able to give him quite a lot of very sound advice.”

Sarah nodded thoughtfully. She had not given the matter any consideration before, but she decided now that her ladyship was very likely right. At any rate, Nicholas would certainly not prose on and on. He was much too matter-of-fact.

She and Miss Penistone didn’t wait for the tray to be brought in but returned to Dower House even before Nicholas came back to the library. Sarah was very sleepy and readily agreed to her companion’s suggestion that they make an early night of it.

She awoke next morning fully refreshed. Betsy brought her her chocolate, and she sat up in bed sipping cautiously while Lizzie made several suggestions regarding possible attire for the day. Glancing out the window, Sarah was glad to see that the clouds of the day before had gone. It would not do for Sir Percival and Lionel to be delayed by a storm. But the day was clear, the sunlight brilliant, and it bade fair to be warm, so she agreed to Lizzie’s suggestion of a simple cream muslin frock with a red silk sash and a rosebud-embroidered flounce. The tiny puffed sleeves had been gathered near the lower edge with red silk thread, and a narrow red ribbon was tied around Sarah’s throat. Lizzie arranged her hair
à la Didon
, and she was ready to go downstairs, where she found Miss Penistone already in the dining room. Betsy was serving coddled eggs with ham and jellied muffins.

“You look charmingly this morning, my dear,” Penny said calmly. “I am pleased to see you completely recovered from yesterday’s unpleasantness.”

Sarah grinned at her. Penny was also looking well. She no longer drew her hair back into the tight little bun at the nape of her neck but dressed it in a younger, far more becoming style. However, Sarah knew better than to comment on the change, so she merely replied that the incident could not have been all that bad. “After all, it has rid us of the loathsome Lionel, whilst allowing us to continue to enjoy her ladyship’s company.”

Since Miss Penistone had already gone so far as to express the opinion that Lionel Packwood was not quite nice in his ways, she could not, in good conscience, refute or rebuke, so she gently turned the conversation into more acceptable channels by asking Sarah what her plans were for the day. Sarah had no notion, but before she had a chance to say so, Betsy stepped in again to say that Master Colin was at the front door begging to have speech with her.

“Well, show him in,” Sarah laughed, “and you’d better refill the muffin basket, for I daresay he’ll want several.” A moment later, Colin hurried in. He hesitated on the threshold, and Sarah grinned at him. “Come in, Colin, and sit down. Betsy is just bringing you some hot muffins:”

“Thank you, ma’am,” said the boy, slipping into a chair, “but I came to apologize again. I don’t think I did it very well last evening, for I didn’t perfectly understand the matter then, you know. But Uncle Nick explained things, and I do quite see now that I oughtn’t to have said such stuff to Lionel.”

Sarah smiled but held her tongue while Betsy plumped down a steaming, linen-covered basket and a cup of chocolate in front of him. He sniffed appreciatively and lifted the napkin to help himself to a muffin. Then, when Betsy had shut the door behind herself, he looked at Sarah expectantly.

“You made a fine apology last night, Colin,” she said kindly, “and I hope your uncle was, not dreadfully vexed with you, for I promise I am not. I might have been, of course, had you not owned up as you did, but after a night’s reflection, I have come to the conclusion that none of it was truly your fault. Lionel should have known better than to take your word for my sentiments, and he should certainly
never
have behaved as he did under any circumstances!”

“No,” the boy agreed after carefully swallowing the remains of his first muffin. “That’s what Uncle Nick said.” He reached for another. “These are first rate, ma’am. Do you think Betsy would show Cook how to make them?”

“You must ask her. I’m sure she will be flattered. What else did your uncle say?”

“Well, like you, he said it wasn’t my fault that Lionel made such a cake of himself. They’re gone, you know. Gram said to tell you they left at eight. Uncle Nick said that since Lionel is much older, he must bear all responsibility for what happened, but then he explained certain things to me.” Colin’s color rose noticeably, and he applied his attention to the buttering of his muffin. “He didn’t really rake me down, but he said that I behaved in an ungentlemanly way, and now that I know better, he’ll make me sorry I was born if I ever do it again.” He looked her in the eye. “I won’t though, you know, now I’ve seen what can happen. Uncle Nick told me exactly what that … what Lionel tried to do. I’m awful sorry!”

“We shall say no more about it,” Sarah said firmly, remembering Lady Packwood’s thoughts on the subject of prolonged discussion of one’s sins. “The matter is over and done, and we are still good friends. Your uncle will very likely not refer to the matter again, so we shall not either. Agreed?”

The boy nodded, finishing off the third muffin. “That puts me in mind of something else,” he added when he could speak. “Uncle Nick said to ask you if you’d like to ride over to Randolph’s farm later—about ten, I think he said—to have a look at that sow’s brood. I’m to go with him—Gram, too, I daresay—and he said to ask Miss Penny if she will come also,” he added, smiling at that lady.

Miss Penistone declined politely, and Sarah, happily accepting the invitation on her own behalf, later confided to Colin that, despite that lady’s unflagging serenity, she had a dreadful fear of horses and never rode. The boy soon took himself off, whistling, to inform his uncle and grandmother that Sarah would accompany them, and an hour later he presented himself again to escort her to the stables.

Nicholas and Lady Packwood were already there. He was dressed simply, in buckskins and top boots with a dark leather jacket, while her ladyship sported a dashing habit that Sarah hadn’t seen her wear before. It was severely cut of bright cherry velvet, and embellished with black embroidery at the sleeves and hem. The jacket fastened with black silk frogs, and the little red cap atop her smoothly coiffed head boasted a black ostrich plume that dipped down to the shoulder. As Nicholas tossed his mother into her saddle, Sarah caught a glimpse of neat kid half-boots topped with three-quarter-inch red fringe, and mentally changing the primary color to gold or russet, she decided then and there that the moment she could safely put off her mourning in public, she would order just such an outfit herself.

It was a cheerful group that turned onto the woods path, for Colin was excited at the prospect of seeing the piglets, and Nicholas exerted himself to be charming. They had been riding for some distance in pairs with Nicholas and her ladyship behind Colin and Sarah, when they came upon a widening of the trail that seemed to continue for about a quarter mile.

Suddenly, Lady Packwood urged her mount forward. “Colin! I’ll wager five pounds to a groat you cannot reach that white-barked tree up ahead before I do!” And with barely a pause for the boy to collect his wits, she was off.

Laughing, Colin shouted that she would lose her money and kicked his horse to a gallop. Nicholas rode up alongside Sarah.

“Would you care to make a side bet on the outcome?” he asked, smiling at her in a way that made her insides feel a bit twittery.