Chapter Eleven
Ashlyn watched with a warm smile as Caro’s new puppy, Biscuit, possessively gnawed on his treats, while Lady Ravensthorpe had decided it was time for the dog to take a refreshing bath.
Not wishing to miss a moment with the playful puppy, Caro had happily skipped after them, walking out through the back door of the kitchen alongside Betty, the maid now charged with giving Biscuit a nice cleanup.
Betty’s look of surprise made it clear to Ashlyn that the staff were not used to interacting much with Caro, even though the girl seemed perfectly comfortable.
Ashlyn thought about how much difference a dog could make, remembering her love for all her pets—even those with broken wings.
And she suspected no one would claim this puppy, except Caro.
Gabriel glanced out the door at the three of them. Caro was helping Betty wash the dog, while Biscuit was trying to hold his bone in the air, protecting it from the ravages of soap. “I would have never imagined this scene—would you have, Mother?”
“Not at all, my dear. It’s lovely to see, and suddenly, with Miss Vickers’s tutelage, I think our world will open for Caro. We owe you a debt of gratitude, Miss Vickers,” the countess said.
“I appreciate your thanks, but it is not necessary. I enjoy spending time with Caro. She’s a delightful child. I only wish I could do more,” Ashlyn said.
“As do we all. But I think we are making strides,” the countess said, wiping tears from her eyes.
Noticing Gabriel walking toward the door, Ashlyn quickly asked, “Would you mind if I go to the stables? Just point me in the right direction. I’d like to check on Billy.”
“Better than that—I can take you,” Gabriel offered.
“If you’re certain it won’t take you away from work,” she said.
“Not at all, I assure you,” he said.
“In that case, I accept,” she said, extending her arm.
“I’ve been worried about Billy. He got tossed around quite a bit with the accident.
He was so wet and muddy, we couldn’t see the extent of what had happened to him.
I feared he’d gotten very banged up and was worried he might succumb to a fever. ”
Gabriel wrapped the crook of his arm around hers, patting her arm and sending a pulse of heat up her arm to her shoulder and neck. She trembled slightly at the unexpected feeling of excitement.
“He’s a lucky young man,” Gabriel said. “He’s been doing well, so far.
But he’s not out of the woods yet, according to Dr. Baker, who checked on him just this morning,” he added, seemingly oblivious to the thrilling sensation his touch had given her.
“He had a slight fever the first night, and then again the next night, but it’s broken now.
However, Dr. Baker mentioned being concerned about two wounds on his back.
Both keep bleeding, and he’s tried sewing one up, only to have to release the stitches because of infection. ”
“It was probably from the way he landed on the ground. It sounds serious. I wonder if he could still have some minute debris embedded deep in the cuts,” Ashlyn said.
As they entered the barn, they could hear Billy’s voice echoing down the wooden stairs from the loft upstairs, where he’d settled. She was relieved to hear him doing all right. “He’s obviously not at death’s door,” she said.
Gabriel laughed. “No. The boy seems to have a lot of jokes for the other men who bunk in the stables. They like him, and so does our ostler, Mr. Grimes. The loft has several rooms installed, and we placed Billy into one of the rooms for his recovery,” he said, smiling.
“I didn’t want you to think we had him bunking on the straw alone.
He has a straw mattress that we replace often.
That gives our men extra places to bunk when they must care for animals overnight. Billy seems to like it.”
Ashlyn laughed. “I’m really glad he’s getting along well. Honestly, I consider him more of a stowaway, considering the circumstances that brought him to us. He took his father’s place without us knowing. We never expected a fourteen-year-old to be the one driving our carriage.”
“Yes, he seems to have been impulsive. He wasn’t experienced enough to handle that storm.
I’ve told him that if he’s wise, he’ll never repeat that folly,” Gabriel said.
“When the weather clears, since you and I are heading to Bath, to the house party, I will see that he is driven back to London. Or, if he’s not well enough, when I return to London, I will get him there.
But we want to make sure he’s well first.”
“That’s very generous of you, Lord Ravensthorpe. I’ve never met her, but I imagine his mother may be frantic about his whereabouts. I’ve written to his family to let them know what happened,” Ashlyn said.
“Please, call me Gabriel. I’d like that very much.”
She smiled, trying to figure out what to say, while he gazed at her expectantly.
“And you may call me Elizabeth,” she finally said.
More than almost anything, Ashlyn hated lying—especially to this man.
If he began to call her Elizabeth, which he inevitably would, she worried whether she’d remember to answer to the name.
It was one more stitch in her web of lies.
“Miss…Vickers?” Billy asked, sounding a little uncertain when she stepped onto the loft.
“Yes, Billy, I’m well, but I’ve been worried about you. This is the first I’ve been able to actually come and check on you, although I’ve been trying to keep up with your progress. How are you feeling?” she asked, taking the seat next to his bed, where he was sitting up against the wall.
“I s’pose I’m doing better. The doctor said I’m going to heal, but he’s concerned about the two pokes I took in my back from the accident. They’re bleeding and don’t seem to want to heal.”
She glanced at Gabriel. “My uncle is a doctor. I spent a great deal of time around my cousin and her father throughout my childhood, and Ashlyn was always healing something or someone—an animal, a bird with a broken wing.” It seemed strange to speak of herself in the third person.
“Do you mind if I peek at the wounds on your back, Billy? I’m a bit curious. ”
“No. I don’t mind at all.” The boy turned and presented his back, covered with a bandage that looked like it had been changed a few hours ago, but the bandage was already soaked through with blood.
“Mind if I pull this bandage off?” she asked, looking around the room.
“Are you looking for more bandages?” Gabriel asked, withdrawing a clean, rolled swath of white linen being used for Billy’s wounds.
“Yes, I was. Thank you. I wanted to make sure there was something to cover it back up with. Do we have any freshly boiled water in the stable?”
“Cook has been boiling water and keeping it in this pitcher for him, according to Dr. Baker’s instructions. That way, the doctor has clean water at the ready,” Gabriel said, bringing it over.
When she withdrew the bandage, the amount of blood still oozing from the site startled Ashlyn. “I think, Billy, that it needs to be cleaned and stitched.”
“Yeah. Doc Baker mentioned that, but I’m a little nervous. He stitched it once but had to open it. I didn’t like that,” Billy said.
“But Billy, if you don’t get this bleeding to stop, you could risk an infection,” she explained.
“And if an infection develops, it might cause another fever, which can be serious. It could cause you to become weak from all the blood loss—which seems sizeable, judging by the bandage. It’s important to take care of it before it gets worse.
” She studied the wound that seemed to be bleeding the worst and washed it with some water.
When she peered inside, she would have sworn something dark was in the wound.
“Lord Ravensthorpe, is there a lantern or maybe a candle we could use? Perhaps the bleeding has finally forced whatever was in there to the surface.”
“Yes, certainly,” Gabriel said. He walked to the next room and returned with a lantern. Taking out a lucifer from his pocket, he struck it on the underside.
“Thank you. Do you see a dark spot inside this wound, or is that my imagination?”
He looked. “It does look like gravel or something similar.”
“If I had something to probe it with…” Ashlyn said.
“Wait…what do you mean, probe?” Billy asked, shuddering.
“Billy, if something’s inside, it could explain the doctor’s need for reopening it earlier,” Ashlyn clarified.
“Nah. I’ve had a fever or two, and they turned out fine,” Billy said.
“Are you saying you are afraid?” Gabriel asked.
“What you talking ’bout? Billy Crutchins ain’t afraid of nothing,” he said impudently, throwing his shoulders back.
“I didn’t think so,” Ashlyn said. “I wish I had something to probe it with.” She noticed he had abandoned his more proper use of the English language during his stay here.
“Here, try this,” Gabriel said, handing a small, flat, leather wallet to Ashlyn.
She opened the wallet and then looked at him.
“They’re lockpicks. It’s a long story, but my friends at Eton called me ‘the pick’ because several times when we should have been locked out of the dorm, I was able to get us back in using an old hairpin I kept on me.
We used to skip out for shenanigans, and there wasn’t a door I couldn’t unlock to keep us from getting caught. ”
Billy gave a quick whistle. “I ne’er met an earl that picked door locks.”
“I learned it out of necessity, since the headmaster could have expelled my friends and me for our pranks if he had locked us out and proven our guilt. But I don’t want to see you ever trying something like that, Billy.”
“I promise, my lord. I don’t never want to disappoint you or Mr. Grimes.”
“Good lad,” Gabriel said, ruffling Billy’s hair.
“I’m wondering why you still carry it around with you after all these years,” Ashlyn said with a curious smile.