Tuesday's Child (Heroines Born on Each Day of the Week Book 3) (34 page)

Harriet forced herself to take deep breaths. To give way to hysteria would accomplish nothing.

“Some more brandy to steady you?” Lady Loxbeare suggested.

Harriet shook her head. Strong drink would not help her to save her son. Which of her father-in-law’s relatives were responsible? One by one, their faces appeared in her mind’s eye. Which abominable, well-educated, stylish lady or gentleman first made an attempt on Arthur’s life and then abducted him?

Unable to sit still, hands on the arm of the chair, she pushed herself to her feet. Immediately, Lady Loxbeare came to her side, and put an arm around her waist to calm her.

Harriet dragged in another deep breath. “You may release me. I will not lose consciousness.”

Her ladyship removed her arm.  Harriet stepped towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Lady Loxbeare’s asked, her troubled face expressing her concern.

“To the nursery, to see if Bessie has come to her senses.”

Plymouth rushed into the room without permission, her cheeks blanched of colour. “Oh, my lady, I’ve been told Lord Castleton, God bless him, is…is missing.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Harriet stared at her abigail. “Who told you?”

“Sir Percival questioned me. He’s interrogating everyone. Who could have done such a dreadful thing?”

“That, is what we would like to know,” Lady Loxbeare commented, drily.

Plymouth wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “And poor, poor Bessie, knocked out of her wits. What am I thinking of, Lady Castleton? I should have brought your smelling salts.”

“I don’t need them.” Harriet spoke in a hard voice, which seemed to be drawn draw from the depths of her being. She turned to her cousin. “Lady Loxbeare, I am sure you wish yourself elsewhere. Please don’t feel obliged to accompany me to the nursery. Plymouth will attend to my needs.”

Lady Loxbeare embraced her. “There, there, although I am sure your woman seems to be an excellent servant, I insist on helping you. After all, Cousin Castleton, what is the use of your family if it cannot help you?”

Her ladyship’s kindness almost released a flood of tears. However, Harriet’s years in the Peninsular, and the turmoil she had faced, taught her how to command her sensibilities. “Thank you,” she murmured, with genuine gratitude.

With Lady Loxbeare and Plymouth, Harriet entered Arthur’s well-appointed room, where his toy soldiers lay tumbled on the carpet, and a man, knelt by Bessie, examining the wound on her head. At the sound of the door opening and closing, he looked up. “Ah, Doctor Jaimeson at your service.” He indicated his black bag, “I was about to leave Mivart’s after attending a patient, when a gentleman introduced himself. Sir Percival had noticed my black bag. He realised I’m a doctor and asked me to examine this poor woman.”

Doctor Jamieson stood, his neat figure encased in a sober dark brown coat and pantaloons, reassuring. His eyebrows raised, he looked at each of them in turn. “May, I have the honour of knowing whom I address?”

“I am Lady Castleton. The lady beside me is Lady Loxbeare.” Harriet indicated, Plymouth with a wave of her hand. “The servant is my abigail. “No, no, Doctor,” she continued, when he opened his mouth to speak, “please don’t waste time bowing and exchanging civilities. When do you think Bessie will recover her wits?”

He shook his head. “I can’t say. My patient is fortunate to have survived such a brutal blow to the head. I must warn you she may remain in this state for the rest of her life. On the other hand, if she wakes, she might have lost her memory. If she is fortunate neither possibility will arise.”

“Is there nothing you can do to help her?” Harriet managed to ask, shocked by his diagnosis.

“I fear not, other than to see her into bed, attend to her wound, and bandage her head; after which my patient must be kept warm and comfortable. If you wish, I can recommend a nurse.”

“Thank you.”

Pitiable was the only word to describe unfortunate Bessie’s condition. Harriet sank onto a chair.

The doctor bowed. “Lady Castleton, I’ll visit my patient later in the day to see if there’s any improvement in her condition.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dominic entered the drawing room in his parents’ London house. Amazed by the sight of his father lying down on the Axminster carpet opposite Arthur, he came to a halt.

Arthur advanced two toy soldiers and knocked down the pair opposite them. “We won!”

“So you did,” Joshua agreed.

Thank God! Arthur is safe. I shall send for Lady Castleton without delay. Why is Father here with the child?

“Yes, we won,” Dominic murmured, his voice husky. “We won.” he repeated in a louder voice. He glanced at his father. “What brings you to town, Papa.”

Joshua laughed and patted Arthur’s head. “It seems I came to entertain this young gentleman, who tells me he is Lord Castleton.”

“Yes, he is, Papa.”

Joshua stood with the agility of a much younger gentleman and tugged the bell rope. “Time for my small friend to put his toy soldiers back into his pockets.”

Hobbs must have been close by, for he answered the summons almost immediately. “You rang, my lord?”

“Yes.” Joshua indicated Arthur with a languid wave of his hand. “Consign Lord Castleton to the housekeeper’s care, he needs to wash the tearstains from his face before he has something to eat.”

The door closed behind Arthur and Hobbs.

Joshua sat down. “Some urgent business brought me to town, and, God bless her, your mother insisted on accompanying me.

“After breakfast, she went to shop at the Royal Exchange.” He frowned. “Nothing prepared me for the commotion, which erupted soon after she left. The noise made by a hysterical child, no less than three Bow Street Runners and another person, whom I do not know, is beyond my powers of description. Well.” Joshua sighed. “Lord Castleton needed urgent attention, so I instructed Hobbs to deal with the runners and the other individual, before I set about pacifying the boy. After he pulled his toy soldiers out of his pocket for comfort, we made friends.”

His nostrils pinched, Papa regarded him with obvious disapproval. “Hobbs told me he received certain orders from you. Explain yourself, Dominic.”

“Yes, I will, after I send a message to Lady Castleton at Mivart’s Hotel to inform her Arthur is safe in your house.”

“Safe! What do you mean? Why should he not be? Oh the boy told me a garbled tale; and a Runner, who said the three of them came here with Lord Castleton at your command, refused to tell me why.”

“I shall explain after I send the note to Lady Castleton, and have spoken to the Bow Street Runners.”

Aware of his father’s displeasure, Dominic hurried out of the room like a guilty schoolboy.

* * *

In response to frenzied knocks on the front door, which Hobbs opened, Dominic hurried into the reception hall.

Harriet, a straw hat, secured with a flimsy scarf tied under the chin, her pale pink morning gown dampened by drizzle, cast herself into Dominic’s arms. “Arthur! Where is he? Where is my precious child? How can I ever thank you sufficiently for saving him for the second time?”

His disheveled betrothed peered up at him, her eyes tear-drenched.

Regardless of the under-butler and a footman’s interested stares, her face pressed against his chest Dominic held Harriet’s tense body closet. “Your son is with my mother in the nursery.”

“Who kidnapped him?” she demanded, her voice iron-hard.

“Come, I shall show you, before I take you to Arthur.”

“No, first I must see Arthur.”

Joshua, whom Dominic had not noticed when he joined them, spoke. “If you would be so good enough to release the lady, I shall accompany you.” He inclined his head towards her. “Lady Castleton, I cannot imagine what you must think of his deplorable breach of etiquette. You must not think he was brought up to do so.”

“I…I don’t know what to say, my lord,” Harriet faltered.

Unable to interpret the expression in his father’s eyes, with reluctance, Dominic disengaged himself from Lady Castleton. From his pocket, he removed a linen handkerchief with which he wiped away her tears. Smiling tenderly at her, he removed her limp leghorn hat and handed it to Hobbs.

“Where is Arthur?” Harriet demanded, in a high pitched voice.

“Calm yourself,” Joshua drawled, “your son is safe.”

Followed by his father, Dominic led her up three flights of stairs to the nursery, where Morwenna put her finger to her lips.

Her face unnaturally pale, Harriet looked around the room. “Where is my son?”

“Shush.” Morwenna pointed to a partially open door. “He is asleep in the night nursery.

Harriet rushed to Arthur, who slept on a small bed, his hand coiled around a toy soldier. She bent to kiss his cheek and smooth his hair back from his forehead. “He is unharmed?” she whispered.

“Yes.” Dominic imagined both her anguish when Arthur was kidnapped and her overwhelming relief now he was safe.

Morwenna put a gentle hand on Harriet’s shoulder. “Come.”

Harriet stood and returned with Dominic and Lady Faucon to the day nursery where the earl stood by the window.

“Lady Castleton, you should be proud of your son-,” Morwenna began. “Until I persuaded him - not without difficulty - his nurse participated in a game in which she pretended to fall down, he was more worried about her than himself.” She glanced at her husband.

“Quite proper, my lady,” Joshua encouraged her. “No sense in allowing the boy to dwell on the assault, which Dominic has already described to me.” He turned his attention to Harriet. “I look forward to becoming better acquainted with your son. He is pluck to the backbone.”

“Indeed,” the countess confirmed. “Not once did he whimper, although he is frightened of you!”

Startled, Harriet sank onto a wing chair. “Of me! Why should he be?”

“Because, although you told him never to go anywhere with anyone without your permission, he disobeyed you. Now, Castleton fears the consequences, yet as he explained, your son did not think you would object because he knew the person, with whom he went.”

In despair, Harriet pressed the palms of her hands against each side of her forehead. “I am shocked; why should he fear me? I have never treated him unkindly or been too severe, and, certainly, I have never wanted him to be afraid of me.” She frowned. “And why is Arthur here instead of at Mivart’s Hotel?”

A few short steps took Dominic to her side. “I shall answer your second question first. “Arthur owes his life to the Bow Street Runners I employed to prevent another attack on him. Unfortunately, they could not enter Mivart’s and protect poor Bessie. However, the moment Arthur came out of the hotel, they pounced on the kidnapper. In accordance with my instructions, they brought your son and his abductor here.” He smiled ruefully at his father. “However, I had not anticipated Papa’s arrival, who, although shocked by the intrusion, entertained Arthur until I arrived. When Mamma returned, she took charge of the boy as though she were a mother hen with only one chick.”

Dominic scrutinised Harriet’s face and noted that her cheeks were blanched of colour, and her eyes were still large with shock. “To answer your first question, which was why he did not think you would object … well, follow me and see for yourself.”

He led Harriet and his parents to the entrance hall and up the stairs to a room in the attic. From his pocket, he removed a large, iron key with which he opened the door of a room where a gagged figure sat, tied to a chair.

Harriet stared into the hate-filled eyes, and shuddered uncontrollably before she fainted.

Horrified, Dominic caught her in his arms before she fell onto the wooden floor. He scooped her up into his arms. Soon, like a sleeping princess she would wake. Even now, despite her wax pale face and untidy hair, she was beautiful. He bent his head to kiss the top of her head. “My love.”

“Perhaps you could bring yourself to reserve endearments for a more appropriate time.” Joshua’s voice broke into Dominic’s preoccupation with his betrothed.

He ignored his father’s censure. “I must take care of Lady Castleton. Her gown is damp and she is cold to the bone. “Mamma, Papa, the monster must not escape.” He handed the key to his father, and then strode out of the storeroom. “Please lock the door. Later, I shall deal with the criminal.” He strode out of the room with Harriet in his arms.

* * *

Harriet’s eyelashes fluttered, and she choked at the smell of burnt feathers, which Morwenna wafted under her nose.  “Where am I?

What happened?” she murmured.

“No need to be alarmed,” Morwenna reassured her. “You fainted, so I merely sacrificed an ostrich plume from my hat to revive you.”

“I am sorry, ostrich feathers are expensive. I shall purchase a new one for you.”

Morwenna chuckled. “Ridiculous child, there is no need to. I don’t begrudge sacrificing one for a good cause.”

“Where am I?” Harriet repeated. She opened her eyes, aware of a warm blanket tucked around her and of Dominic, who knelt beside the sofa on which she lay. Awareness returned. She sat up. “Arthur?”