CHAPTER EIGHT
By half past ten o’clock the house was in darkness.
The ladies had retired, both a little nervous, though Mrs Goodworth was worried about herself and Lady Dembleby about her staff and her ‘guest’.
They had actually all rather enjoyed the game of Speculation, even Hetty Goodworth, and forgotten the potentially serious end to the evening for a while, but when the mother-of-pearl fish were put away and the clock struck ten, levity departed.
It was a very sober-looking lady who wished Major Barkby a safe night.
‘Nothing in this house, no object, is worth injury or … worse. Do, I beseech you, take the greatest care, sir.’
‘I am not the reckless type, ma’am. They may not even come and in the morning you will be looking at a weary staff and blaming me for keeping them awake. Go to bed, worry not, and sleep well.’ He had held out his left hand, and touched hers, very briefly.
‘Wyre, take your lad and go out the back and round the house. If we have burglars we will have horses, this far from a town. Be cautious in case whoever is holding the horses has a pistol, but I want you to spook those animals, whether or not you lay hands on the man. Understood? Good. Now, go.’
Whatever else, if he made getting away difficult then the chances of apprehending the house-breakers increased.
‘They are in the dining room, sir,’ whispered young William, his voice tremulous with excitement.
‘We have short sticks, sir, cut from wood on the log pile.’ That was the voice of Leece.
‘Then follow me, and whoever has the lantern, set it on the sideboard and don’t stand so close you are clearly defined. You do not want to be a target.’ That ought to get the thing put down swiftly. ‘Leece, open the door and follow me in. Come on.’
Leece turned the door knob, and the major burst into the room.
He had taken his time during dinner to note the positions of furniture and stepped smartly aside in front of the fireplace, where red embers glowed behind the guard.
Whoever was in the room also had lanterns.
There were two, and the curtain was drawn back from one window casement, letting silvery moonlight stream across the floor.
118For one moment there was clarity, and the major raised his pistol, ready to make a reasonably truthful statement to the effect that they were trapped and outnumbered and should give themselves up.
Then William, all youthful excitement and outrage, threw himself forward, yelling, and it all went wrong and became a muddle.
The Court men went either side of the long dining table, keen to grapple with the burglars.
There was a lot of shouting, and Major Barkby saw one lantern bearer swing his lantern and hit the footman Frederick with it, which resulted in the lantern smashing to the floor with Frederick, who lay senseless.
The burglar then raised what looked to be a short cosh and was clearly going to hit the stricken man and so, even with now less light and a tricky target, the major laid his pistol across his right forearm, sighted as best he could and pulled the trigger.
There was a loud report, a cry and the sound of more glass smashing.
Suddenly Major Barkby was aware of another figure, one who had not held a lantern, and was in the shadow beyond the fireplace.
He saw a flash of a blade and instinctively threw up his left arm to protect his body as the hidden man attempted to stab him, and threw a punch at him with his dominant, if damaged, right hand.
There was an ice-cold burning sensation as the knife point slashed his forearm, a fraction of a moment before his fist made contact, but his left hand retained a grip on the pistol and he was able to bring it down hard where he thought the man’s head would be.
It hit something and then he and his assailant both fell back and Barkby’s head hit the marble edge of the mantelpiece, and everything went black.
119Major Barkby awoke with a thumping headache, and the faint smell of lavender water about him, which instantly made him revise his first thought, which was that he was still in Spain and had been knocked from his horse.
He opened his eyes, wincing, and looked up into the concerned face of Lady Dembleby, who was wearing a lace-edged nightcap and a thick and serviceable dressing gown.
‘Thank God you are recovered,’ she said, with feeling.
‘Wh … Did we catch them?’
‘Yes, but do not think about that now, sir.’
‘I can think of nothing more pertinent, ma’am. I do not wish to dwell upon feeling a fool.’
‘A fool? How so? Your shot saved Frederick, according to Leece.’
‘Would have killed him for certain, my lady,’ corroborated Leece.
‘I only winged the fellow, I am sure, for I heard another of your glass panes shatter.’
‘It was more than enough.’
‘And then I let some other ruffian have at me with a knife and … thereafter nothing.’
‘Apparently you struggled with him and hit your head on the fireplace. I have cut away the sleeve of your shirt and bound the knife wound, but sent for a doctor. It looks deep enough to me for it to require stitching. I also wish him to look to Frederick, who may have glass in his cheek.’
‘You are not squeamish, ma’am.’
‘Apparently not, sir.’ Now that he had revived, and was lucid, she could be calm.
‘Any other casualties?’
120‘Not more than bruised knuckles and a stubbed toe. I am displeased with you, Major. I specifically requested that you take care.’
‘I did not intend for it to end like this. The lad took it into his head to charge at the first man he saw and then it was rather chaotic. I had planned to demand their surrender.’
‘So much for plans.’ She pursed her lips.
He felt she was treating him like a schoolboy who arrived home with muddy breeches.
He tried to sit up, but a firm hand pushed him back upon the cushion, and his head swam.
‘My plan will not fail, however. It is to keep you right where you are until the doctor has seen you.’
‘Where are the burglars?’
‘Josiah has ridden for the constable, and those that were in the house are bound and locked in the cellar, not with the wine, I hasten to add, and the wounded man has had his shoulder bound. The man with the horses was taken, but it seems there was a fifth man outside the window to receive the stolen items. He got away because none knew of his existence until William saw him at the end of the path, and it would have been even greater madness to chase after him in the dark. Now, how do you feel, sir?’
‘Embarrassed.’
‘I meant in body.’
‘Sore. My head thumps, my arm is painful and my hand hurts like the devil. I think I forgot in the heat of the moment and swung a punch at him with it. I hope I have not ruined the healing.’
‘Oh.’ She had not thought of his injured hand in the 121glove with the fingers stitched down. Before he could stop her she had undone the button at the wrist and slid the soft kid from the hand. He heard her sharp intake of breath, and tried to cover it with his good hand.
‘You ought not …’
‘You said you do not want to feel a fool. Do not actually behave like one, Major Barkby. We have established that I am not squeamish.’ She sounded very matter-of-fact, though in truth her heart was beating very fast as the hand was revealed, and she felt slightly nauseated.
The stumps of fingers, which ended at the first joint, were unnatural, disturbing even, but now the thin new skin that had formed from the secondary healing was bloodied and broken. She paled.
‘You poor man,’ she murmured. ‘No wonder your hand hurts. I wish I knew what would be best, but we cannot leave them bleeding. What bandages I have are too large. I will cut one into strips, unless … Was it bandaged as a whole or the fingers individually when the acci— wound occurred?’
‘Individually, but please, this is not what you ought to be doing.’
‘It is my house, and you have been injured in defence of it. If you say it is not “seemly”, then you are being silly.’
‘No, ma’am, but to be presented with such a sight …’
‘There are officers’ wives who follow the drum, yes?’
‘There are.’
‘And would they leave their husband, or his friends, to bleed because it is not “ladylike”?’
‘No.’
122‘Then there is no argument.’ She turned from him for a moment. ‘Leece, please fetch Major Barkby a glass of brandy.’
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘And now, sir’ – she returned to her patient – ‘you will lie quietly, and we will do what we can until the doctor arrives, after which I will have Leece assist you to the bedchamber allotted to you, and you will not stir from it until the morning.’
She took a pair of scissors and a bandage from the box that contained ointments and dressings for the minor wounds of a household, and began to cut it into thin strips.
The brandy, which was a generous measure, did take the edge off the major’s awareness of his hurts, and he was unaware how much time passed before the local doctor was before him, sounding remarkably cheerful for a man drawn from his bed in the middle of a November night.
He talked all the way through putting stitches in the knife wound across the arm, commenting upon how fortunate it was that no major sinew had been severed, and made little tutting noises over the hand.
‘And it was healing well, I take it? Such a pity that all that good work should be undone, but at least there should be little chance of new infection, since the hand was gloved. I will bind the fingers but then also bandage them together for a day or so to keep them still. Once the wounds are not open, they can heal naturally, as they clearly did before.’