CHAPTER EIGHT #2
Lady Dembleby watched how the first bandage was applied, and then offered to repeat the process, so that 123the good doctor might take a look at Frederick and the wounded captive.
The major, now feeling a little sleepy, and very sore, watched her without saying anything.
He had been pretty sure. Now he was certain.
By the time the constable had arrived, and decided he could not possibly remove four dangerous criminals from her ladyship’s cellar on his own, and the righteous but injured had been assisted to their beds, it was gone five in the morning.
Lady Dembleby decided any tidying of the dining room could wait until late morning, and instructed Leece that she did not want to be woken before eleven o’clock, and did not expect the men to have risen until nine, unless the magistrate came and needed to see her.
Frederick was excused duties for the day.
She then retired for what were the last few hours of the night.
Mrs Goodworth, having given way to mild hysterics when the commotion below began, had locked her door, and not emerged thereafter.
Leece felt his own bruised toe and grazed knuckles were firm evidence that he had been instrumental in the capture of the villains, and however much Major Barkby had been in command, William and Frederick were ‘his’ staff, and all had acquitted themselves honourably.
Admittedly, Frederick had been laid out early on, but William, under Leece’s own orders, had grappled the second lantern bearer, and the coachman had thrown himself on top of the man brought down with Major Barkby by the fireplace.
Although tired, the butler did not wish to be late to rise and after his subordinates.
After all, he had managed to rest for several hours around midnight.
He also wished to 124speak with the female servants who, secure in the servants’ wing, had slept in blissful ignorance of the excitement in the dining room.
It was therefore a very weary-looking but awake Mr Leece who addressed the female staff a little before nine.
They were chattering like sparrows after the maid had gone to clean the grate in the dining room and found all in uproar.
Mrs Knowle was trying her best to restore order, but being herself in the dark as to what had occurred, she could not suppress wild supposition with any authority.
‘Enough. There will not be any gossip attached to what has happened here. Elliston Court will not be the subject of tittle-tattle. Suffice for you to know that an attempt was made by the criminals who have of late plagued the district, but all bar one of their number have been apprehended, and await removal from the cellars by the authorities. Several window panes were broken in the dining room, and I will be sending into Frome for the glazier today. Mrs Knowle, do you know of any particular craftsman who would be suitable?’
‘Mr Clark in Vallis Way, Mr Leece.’
‘Thank you. In addition, the dining room has seen a deal of … upheaval, and it is to be tidied and all evidence of the occurrence is to be removed before her ladyship dines this evening. For your information, Frederick sustained an injury during the attempted burglary and her ladyship has kindly given him the day off to recover. The course of events will no doubt be made known in any court appearance by the criminals, but no word will spread from this establishment; do I make myself clear?’
125There was an instant response in the affirmative, and Leece felt he had the matter under control.
Louisa woke slowly, aware of full daylight announcing the advanced morning through the chink in the curtains of her bed.
She sat up, and remembered. When she had got to bed she had been too exhausted to be kept awake by jangled nerves or shock, but as she reached full consciousness she recalled everything in all too vivid detail.
She had slept, even if lightly, when she had retired in the evening, and been woken by the crack of the shot below stairs.
Good sense had told her to stay in her room, but this was her house, and she felt that cowering under the bedcovers was avoiding one’s responsibility.
She had therefore climbed out of bed, lit the candle at her bedside and put on her warm, brown dressing gown.
Whereupon she took a deep breath and went out into the passageway.
She could then hear male voices, in some agitation, and, as she moved to the stairs, the sound of sobbing from Hetty Goodworth’s bedchamber.
This latter she had ignored. Treading carefully downstairs, ensuring she did not trip in the gloom, she had found the hall in darkness, but the door of the dining room was wide open and light poured from within.
Leece was lighting branches of candles, and illuminating an apparent scene of carnage.
Chairs were overturned, Frederick was on the floor groaning, as was an individual bleeding from the shoulder, William was sitting astride an unknown body and the coachman was kneeling upon a third.
What made her gasp was the sight of Major Barkby, 126also lying insensate upon the floor by the fireplace.
She had not immediately noticed him without his scarlet jacket.
The only scarlet now upon him was the red stain upon his sleeve.
She had known a moment of panic when she could not move a muscle, and had then rushed to kneel beside him and ascertain that he did at least breathe.
Leece informed her, in rather less butler-like tones than usual, that he believed the major had hit his head upon the mantelshelf whilst wrestling with the man now beneath the coachman’s bulk.
Thankfully, at this point the stable boy had entered, breathless, to announce that Mr Wyre had a villain in his charge, and between him and Leece, the major’s inanimate form had been carried to the drawing room and laid upon a sofa.
The lad had then been sent to the stables for stout twine or rope to secure the prisoners.
She had directed Leece to the housekeeper’s box of bandages and medicaments, and told him to bring her scissors from her workbox in the east parlour, which left her alone with the unconscious officer.
Not being one to carry a vinaigrette upon her person, she had taken up his good hand and felt the pulse at the wrist, which was strong and even, and then chafed the hand, feeling slightly foolish.
It seemed to make little difference, although he did produce a low moaning sound indicative that he was slowly returning to consciousness.
She then pressed upon the wound to the forearm with a table napkin.
Leece had returned with the box and the scissors, and she cut the cambric to reveal a clean wound across the arm, upon which she placed a pad and then wound a bandage about the injury.
127At this point the major had awoken, and what had been a simple practical task, as long as one was not prone to fainting at the sight of blood, became suddenly far more complicated.
He was a particular person, interacting with her, and a jumble of emotions fought within her, struggling beneath her veneer of calm competence.
The most unexpected emotion was anger. She knew, deep down, why she was angry, but felt powerless to stop it.
She was indebted to the man, which was not a situation she liked, but this was not the worst part.
She had felt sorry for him, though he would hate to know this, but she had felt hurt because he was hurt, and a compassion that exceeded the impersonal.
She liked him, far, far too much. And he had come to her house, and been noble and brave and all the things men were meant to be good at, and yet she did not despise him, as she had vowed to despise men.
She had not yet had one whole year of freedom and here she was, liking a man. It was his fault. It had to stop.
At this point she knew she was being illogical, but that fuelled her anger the more. She was angry at herself for being angry at him! Well, if he thought she would fall upon his neck when they met as they must today, he was wrong.
It was half past eleven o’clock when they came face to face, as she emerged from the morning room.
Looking at Major Barkby, whose visage bore a dark bruise upon the forehead, and whose bandaged hand drew attention, Louisa’s sympathy increased, which made her more annoyed.
What should she say? Thank you for last 128night, and I hope your injuries recover quickly?
She could hardly ignore the night’s ‘adventure’.
‘Good morning, ma’am. As you can see, I am much recovered.’ He smiled at her, and she wished he had not. He sounded in surprisingly good spirits.
‘Good morning, Major Barkby. I am most relieved that that is the case. I do not know how else I would be able to look Lady Barkby in the face again otherwise.’ There, that ought to depress any pretension that they had some rapport.
‘Yes, I can see it might put a damper on the acquaintanceship.’ He actually grinned. Was he thick-skinned, or ignoring her signals?
What Louisa Dembleby could not understand was the feeling of slight euphoria when danger had passed and death had been avoided. He might ache, and be sore, but he had achieved his aim, and he was still standing. He saw the world in slightly brighter colours this morning.
‘You will wish to return home as soon as possible. If you would care to take breakfast I will order the carriage and …’
‘Keen to see the back of me, Lady Dembleby? Well, I am sure I am no fit sight for a delicate lady.’
‘How dare you,’ she shot at him, incensed. ‘Had I been a “delicate” lady I would have had a nervous spasm upon the sight of you last night, not dealt with your hurts.’ Her bosom rose and fell rather obviously.