Chapter 13 #5
The tide was beginning to rise, already covering some of the distant sedges and reeds that lined the marshes. Everything would be underwater within the next quarter hour as the water surged.
Tulip watched her husband head off with Mr. Carver.
One of the workmen approached her. “Please, Your Grace. We need to get you away from here now.”
She nodded, for she was only delaying them in getting their rescue equipment. And was this not most important, especially if Alex and Mr. Carver were the ones who would ultimately need rescuing?
She spared a last look at Alex making his way along the marshes. “All right.”
The workers hurriedly escorted her as far as the terrace before all but two headed off toward the barn to stow their tools and grab ropes. The boats were stowed in a shed beside the barn and needed several men to carry each down.
The two men assigned to her remained standing in the garden with their eyes on her while she stood on the terrace in their full view.
She was busy peering out toward the salt marshes when Ernfield approached her.
“Your Grace,” he said, slightly out of breath and his boots squishing as he climbed the few steps toward her, “I do beg your pardon. Has something happened?”
“Yes,” she replied, wondering why he was not at his post by the front door, “Mrs. Granger was rather upset and ran off in the direction of the marshes. His Grace and Mr. Carver are searching for her now.”
His eyes rounded. “Oh, dear. I had better go help them.”
Tulip glanced in the distance and saw the water level rising dangerously fast. “No, Ernfield,” she said in impulse. “They have it managed.”
“But Your Grace, I know these marshes and can help. I must help. Is it not my responsibility as head butler to protect His Grace?”
She ought to have let him go, but something held her back. Perhaps it was the note of agitation in his voice. This stoic man, who had not shown so much as a glimmer of feeling in the week they had been here, was suddenly awash in it.
Was she sensing worry? Or concern?
In truth, she sensed some anger in him.
Was this not very odd?
Well, she could be wrong.
This entire day was turning out odd.
Besides, she was peeved with Ernfield.
Had he really accused her uncle and Mr. Carver of covering up Elspeth’s disappearance?
Even if he had not, she did not change her mind about allowing him to go to the salt marshes.
Something simply felt off about him…or perhaps it was her. But it felt like him.
Oh, her stupid intuition.
The poor man was probably secretly in love with Mrs. Granger and wanted to help the men find her.
She heard the distant roar of an incoming wave and then another immediately following it that crashed dangerously close to where Alex and Mr. Carver were searching.
“Stay here, Ernfield. The tide is already too high. It is bad enough His Grace and Mr. Carver are out there getting soaked and will likely need rescuing.”
Ernfield appeared about to say something to her, but the rest of Mr. Carver’s workers came around the side of the house at just that moment. “See, they are already preparing to help out. Leave them to it, Ernfield. Anyway, should you not be supervising the preparations for tonight’s dinner party?”
“That is Mrs. Granger’s role, Your Grace. I can assure you, the staff is experienced and has it all in hand. Is this rescue not more important? I ought to lend assistance.”
“No,” Tulip said, more firmly.
Gad, why did she feel so compelled to stop him?
He seemed quite fidgety and not at all happy, but she was the duchess and he had no choice but to obey her command if he wished to retain his coveted position as head butler.
Tulip could not blame him, she supposed.
It was quite frustrating to be held back when one wanted to help.
Did she not feel this same frustration?
“Oh, look!” she cried a moment later, for Ernfield had remained on the terrace with her and was now pacing like an agitated lion.
She felt bad about forbidding him to join the search when she had wanted to do the same.
But she had accepted Alex’s instructions while Ernfield appeared ready to leap off the terrace… or leap at her in frustration.
She was glad Carver’s two men had their eyes on her.
“I see them! They’ve found her!” she called down to her two guards.
They all hurried to the garden’s edge, Ernfield loping along beside her, and watched eagerly as Alex and Mr. Carver slogged their way toward them while waist deep through the quickly rising water. “Come on,” she whispered. “Don’t stray off the path.”
She let out a breath as Alex, who was holding an unconscious Mrs. Granger in his arms, closely followed Mr. Carver’s guiding steps onto dry land.
Several of Mr. Carver’s men dropped their ropes and hurried forward. Others who had been in the midst of hauling out rowboats from the shed now set them down and also raced forward while cheering.
Both Alex and Mr. Carver were breathing heavily by the time they reached the garden and everyone surrounded them to offer their congratulations.
Alex managed a special smile for her.
Tulip smiled back.
She wanted to tell him that she was so very proud of him, and was ready to tell him that she loved him. But he still carried Mrs. Granger and was obviously eager to make his way back into the house. Also, they were surrounded by their workers, so nothing of a romantic nature could be said just now.
Ernfield reached out his arms. “You must be exhausted, Your Grace. Let me carry Mrs. Granger into the staff quarters for you.”
Alex drew back. “No, Ernfield. I have her.”
“But your clothes, Your Grace. You and Mr. Carver are soaking wet. May I not relieve you while you change into dry garments?”
“Not necessary,” Alex insisted and started toward the house.
Everyone followed him.
“Your Grace, may I ask…what happened?” Ernfield’s eyes were wide and his mouth tensely pinched as he studied the dark-gowned bundle lying limp in Alex’s arms.
“She must have tripped and hit her head on something,” Mr. Carver replied. “Good thing we found her or the tide would have swallowed her up and washed her out to sea within minutes. It was a very close call.” He then turned to his workers. “Put the ropes and boats back where they belong.”
“Aye, Mr. Carver,” one of them said. “But will you let us know if Mrs. Granger is all right?”
“Of course, Dougal,” he said to the man who had asked. “His Grace and I will let everyone know as soon as we ourselves learn what happened.”
Ernfield trailed after them as Alex carried the poor woman into the servants wing of the house through the kitchen entrance since everyone’s boots were wet and possibly muddy. As they squished along the flooring, Tulip realized what had felt off about Ernfield.
He’d squished, too.
His boots had been wet.
But how was it possible while indoors supervising the staff’s party preparations?
Alex stopped abruptly and turned to their head butler in obvious exasperation, for the man was practically breathing down Alex’s neck. “Ernfield, if you insist on being useful, then ride into town and summon the doctor.”
“Very well, Your Grace. I’ll assign one of the footmen to–”
“No, you are to do it,” Alex insisted. “My wife needs the footmen here to prepare for our dinner party.” Then he softened his tone.
“Do not take this badly, Ernfield. I saw how you stood beside my wife as I carried Mrs. Granger back to the house. Your instincts are protective. I know you are the only one I can trust to diligently search for the doctor, since he may not be in his infirmary. Find him as quickly as possible. I fear time is of the essence. Mrs. Granger may not survive, for she took a fair amount of water into her lungs.”
Tulip was surprised Alex had assigned the chore to Ernfield specifically.
Wasn’t it an insult to send the head butler off as a messenger, even if her husband gave a flattering reason?
She would ask Alex about this later.
Hadn’t she insulted poor Ernfield herself when commanding him to remain beside her and not go in search of Mrs. Granger?
Odd that she and Alex both felt the need to put Ernfield off.
But did his squishing boots signify anything? He might have stepped outside as delivery wagons came up the drive and inadvertently walked into a puddle.
Well, now was not the time to think about it.
Tulip skittered in front of Alex and Mr. Carver to lead the way down the narrow hall toward the housekeeper’s bedchamber that she had searched only a short while ago.
“Mr. Carver, please ask two of the maids to come in here to help me change her out of her wet clothes. And also ask Mrs. Crabbe to bring her some broth.”
“At once, Your Grace,” he said and hurried off to the kitchen.
“She’ll have to wake up first or you won’t be able to ladle anything down her throat,” Alex remarked, pointing out the obvious.
“What happened to her? Did she trip and hit her head on a rock?”
Alex had been frowning and his frown now deepened. “Unlikely. I’m thinking she got bashed on the back of her head.”
Tulip gaped at him. “Why would you think that?”
“Because if this were just an accident, she would have fallen backward and that’s how she could have hit the back of her head on a rock.
But she fell forward, her body sprawled face down on the ground when we found her.
How does one end up that way unless struck from behind?
That’s the only explanation for the position of her body.
One has to be falling backward to strike the back of one’s head, but would fall forward if struck from behind by someone else.
Again, no accident. Someone attacked her.
We’ll learn more when she regains consciousness. ”
“Do you think she will?”
“Actually, yes. I think we got to her before any water got into her lungs. But no one has to know this yet. Let them all think she is at death’s door.”
“Who could have attacked her?”
“I don’t know, love. But it could not have been Mr. Carver because he was with his men when it happened.
I’ll question them closely once we have Mrs. Granger safely settled.
One of them mentioned noticing a fisherman carrying his nets or some sort of bundle.
It could have been the villain carrying Mrs. Granger after he’d struck her on the head. ”
“And intending to toss her into the salt marshes to drown?”
“Yes.” He still had their housekeeper in his arms, but obviously could not settle her on the bed because her gown was soaking wet. “Pull out a change of clothing for her, will you, Tulip?”
“All right. The maids should be along shortly to assist me. I–” She broke off suddenly.
“Alex! Oh, my goodness! This isn’t possible.
Look!” She held up two vials filled with liquid that would no doubt be found to contain an opiate or perhaps poison.
“These weren’t here when I searched her room earlier.
What was it, maybe fifteen or twenty minutes ago?
There is no way she could have returned to her bedchamber between then and now to put those vials in her drawer. ”
He stared at her, saying nothing, but she could see the ideas whirling in his investigative brain.
Then his expression shifted ever so slightly and he let out a soft breath.
Tulip gasped. “Oh, Alex! You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?”
He quirked an eyebrow.
“Yes, you have! Tell me, who did this to Mrs. Granger? And is this attack in any way related to the deaths of the predecessor dukes?”