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Amidst hoots of laughter and approval from the party, Lord Duncan went to the wall and removed two very old swords. He laid them in a cross in the middle of the floor.
“Perhaps in these close quarters we should dispense with the sword exercises. When you are ready, Thursby.”
Still blushing, young Thursby walked to the swords, and Feller started a Highland tune. The group watched in breathless attention as the young man’s feet flew around, between and over the blades, missing by a hairbreadth, but never touching them. He finished in good order, and this time everyone applauded in earnest.
“Thursby has joined us since we returned from India,” his lordship explained.
“But Feller and Burnside went with you?”
“Aye. They have been with me since I was a lad.” He turned the full force of his smile on her. “It is your turn. Will you honor me with a country dance?”
Alarm filled Iantha. “Oh! Oh, no. I couldn’t. I have not danced since…in several years.”
“But there are only us country fellows here tonight. A misstep will never be recognized.”
Iantha shook her head firmly. “No, my lord. I couldn’t.”
His lordship sighed loudly. “Now what’s to be done? Will you force me to dance with Burnside?”
In spite of the moment of panic, a laugh burst from Iantha. “I have no doubt that you will do it, my lord.”
Shaking his head sadly, Lord Duncan rose and bowed to his henchman. With a simper, Burnside curtsied. A whoop of laughter burst from Thursby, and Iantha giggled. Even Vijaya chuckled. Feller began a Cumberland reel and the two men set about the steps of the dance, much tripping and tangling of feet contradicting their previous adroit performance. After several minutes Burnside made an awkward turn and sprawled on the floor.
He got up, rubbing his injured member, and grinning, appealed to Iantha. “Miss Kethley, you just naturally got to do it. I ain’t cut out for to do this part.”
Iantha’s eyebrows rose. “What a fudge! Burnside, I fear the truth is not in you.”
“He makes a poor partner, I must attest.” His lordship knelt on one knee before Iantha’s chair. “Come, Miss Kethley. Rescue me from this humiliation.”
She could not help laughing aloud. “Like master, like man! My lord, you are as sly as he is.”
He extended a hand. Before she had time to think, Iantha placed hers in it and found herself drawn to her feet. “But, my lord.” The protest escaped even as he led her to the floor. “We cannot do a Ninepins Reel with only one couple.”
“We will improvise, Miss Kethley.” And improvise they did. It proved to be a most original version of the reel. Lord Duncan guided Iantha from position to position with no more than the lightest clasp of his fingertips on hers. Caught up in the laughter and buffoonery, she discovered that she had relaxed and was truly enjoying the first set she had danced in six years.
Not until the last strains of the music sounded did he catch her around the waist for a final spin. By then she had lost her breath from laughing, and he released her so quickly that she barely glimpsed the triumphant gleam in his eye.
The moment she awakened the next morning, Iantha sprang out of bed and ran to the window. To her great relief the sun poured through the casement, and she saw not a cloud in the sky. She hastened to the breakfast table to find Lord Duncan finishing off a generous serving of beef and eggs.
He quickly stood and held a chair for her to be seated, displaying his infectious grin. “Be of good cheer, Miss Kethley. Later this morning I intend to investigate the condition of the road. If I think it safe to proceed, this afternoon we will escort you to your anxious family.”
“Oh, thank you, my lord. They must be beside themselves with worry. I would be very grateful to you for their sake.”
And for my own. This morning his lordship’s masculine energy seemed to flow from him in waves. Even as he relaxed over morning coffee, it set an unfamiliar sympathetic vibration rippling through Iantha as never before. Try as she might, she could not wall him out. Perhaps the camaraderie of the evening before accounted for the increased difficulty. She had relinquished her control, and she could not regret it, but…
His lordship had undeniably breached her walls. He had made her laugh. Genuinely laugh. She had even danced with him. But now…
Now she felt vulnerable again.
Afraid.
She finished a scone and hastily excused herself.
Rob tapped politely on the bedchamber door and mustered his patience for what seemed an unnecessarily long wait. At last his guest opened the door a crack and peered cautiously around it. Rob sighed. His evasive lady had once again fled. He had cherished hope that the relaxation of the previous evening would have a more permanent effect. Ah, well. He pushed lightly on the door, and she stepped back enough to allow him into the room.
At least his news should please her. “I believe that we may attempt the journey, Miss Kethley, if we go on horseback. I will take Feller and Thursby with us to help break the way and assist should we encounter any difficulties. Burnside and Vijaya can hold the keep.”
A relieved smile brightened her face. “Thank you, Lord Duncan. I am more indebted to you than I can ever repay.”
Rob studied her for a heartbeat. If she recognized what the inescapable consequence of this situation must be, she gave no sign of it. “No repayment is needed, Miss Kethley. I am happy to be of service to you. However, conditions are likely to become difficult. Can you manage one of my horses, or would you prefer to ride with me?”
She didn’t hesitate a moment. “I will ride alone.”
“As you wish.” What other answer had he expected? He just hoped she did not overestimate her strength and skill.
They did not make the trip easily. Although the sun had softened the snow enough for the horses to push through, it required several hours of hard going for both men and beasts to cover the distance his charge had driven in an hour two days before. In places they were obliged to leave the drifted roadway completely and take to the boggy, windswept hillside, jumping the small freshets of melting snow. When at last the tired party trotted up the drive of Hill House, all of them showed signs of wear, but Miss Kethley still sat her saddle with a stiff spine. No, she was not nearly as fragile as she looked.
They had not yet reached the door when a tumult of people and voices spilled out of the house to surround them.
“Miss Iantha!”
“Annie, Annie!”
“Oh, my dear! Iantha.”
Rob had no opportunity to help Miss Kethley from her mount. A dozen hands reached for her before he had his feet on the ground. A tall, slender youth sporting extremely high collar points lifted her down and enveloped her in a bear hug, oblivious to the damage to his elaborately tied cravat, while a younger boy hovered nearby. She kissed the cheek of one and tousled the blond curls of the other as she stepped back. “Thank you, Thomas. Don’t look so solemn, Nathaniel. I am quite well.”
At that moment a small whirlwind of ribbons and petticoats launched herself into Miss Kethley’s arms. “Oh, Annie! Where have you been? We have been so worried. I prayed and prayed….” Great tears coursed down the pink cheeks.
Her sister enfolded the girl in a quick hug and then set her away and wiped at the tears running down the young cheeks. “Do not cry, Valeria. I had an accident, but Lord Duncan saved me from the storm.” She turned to the lady of middle years with hair as silver as her own. “Now do not you start to cry, Mama.”
The older woman satisfied herself with a brief embrace and released her daughter, wiping a tear from her own violet eyes. “I am just so relieved, Iantha. I have been quite distraught.”
Miss Kethley turned to Rob. “May I present Lord Duncan, Mama? My parents, Lord Duncan—Lord and Lady Rosley.”
“Your servant, ma’am.” Rob bowed to the lady and, shifting to face the tall, thin older man who had just come up leaning on a cane, bowed a second time. “Lord Rosley, your servant, sir.”
“Duncan.” His lordship nodded, his eyes narrowed, but immediately swiveled toward his daughter. “Iantha, is everything well with you?”
“Quite well, Papa. A small snowslide struck the gig and almost buried it in the drifts. A shaft broke, and poor Toby was hurt. Lord Duncan arrived to extricate us just as the storm broke. We were fortunate to have been near his home at the Eyrie. I am unhurt—only very sorry for the anxiety I have caused you.”
“Humph. As you should be, minx.” Lord Rosley sniffed, cleared his throat and pinched her cheek. “Well, let us not stand here in the cold. All of you come in. You cannot return tonight.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Rob handed his reins to Feller who, followed by Thursby, led the horses away in the direction indicated by the Hill House grooms.
Rob followed his host. “If I may, Lord Rosley, I would like very much to have a word with you in private.”
His lordship favored him with another hard stare.
“Yes, I should think you would.”
Her mother took one look at her bedraggled state and hustled Iantha up the stairs to her bedchamber. Having gently, but firmly, evicted young Valeria with a promise to let her sit with Iantha later while she changed clothes, she turned to her older daughter.
“Are you truly all right? You have not been harmed in any way, or frightened?”
Iantha smiled reassuringly. “No, Mama. Truly, I have not. Of course, I was frightened, to be in such a situation….” She paused and took a deep breath. The fear she had felt two days before had begun to fade. Thank God. “But Lord Duncan proved a very kind gentleman—a gentleman in every way.”
Her mother sank down on the bed with a relieved sigh. “Oh, I am so glad. I couldn’t bear for you to have been hurt again—or even threatened.”
“Nothing of that sort occurred, Mama.” Iantha sat beside her. “I was never in any danger of harm except for the snowslides.” And my own difficult emotions. Iantha patted her mother’s hand.
“Snowslides.” Lady Rosley raised her eyebrows. “Never tell me there was more than one!” Her hands flew to her heart.
Oh, dear. She had said too much. Iantha quickly shook her head. “No…well, yes, Mama, but Lord Duncan plucked me out of the way of the second one.”
“It seems we have much to thank him for.” Her mother looked at Iantha with narrowed eyes.
“Yes.” Iantha studied her hands. An uncomfortable thought had occurred to her. “Mama… What do you think he and Papa are discussing?”
“Why, dear, Lord Duncan is asking your father for your hand in marriage, of course.”
Chapter Four
R ob followed Lord Rosley into his library, uncomfortably aware of the latter’s suspicious manner, but not overly concerned. Of course the Viscount was worried about what had happened to his daughter over the last two days—and would be more worried when he discovered that she had been the only woman in the house. But Rob knew exactly how to make allaying the older man’s fears a simple matter.
He had given it a great deal of thought in the last day or two. As a gentleman who had carried a young, unmarried lady into a compromising situation, he would be expected to offer for her. And that certainly was to be preferred to finding himself facing one of her male relatives across pistols at dawn. But was he ready to do that? Did he want to marry this particular lady? Or might that prove a disaster for both of them?
On balance, he decided that it would not. He felt a need for a companion. A great many marriages were contracted on no acquaintance at all. And he found Miss Kethley a very interesting companion—talented, intelligent, beautiful. He was a bit troubled about her habit—apparently a very persistent habit—of wandering about the fells alone. But perhaps if he provided her with some of the adventure she craved, she would tolerate him as an escort.
And he had given a great deal of thought to the fact that she seemed to avoid being touched. A wife with such an aversion might make for a rather chilly bed. Not something with which he wanted to saddle himself for the rest of his life. He hoped he wasn’t thinking like a cockscomb to believe that he could overcome that prejudice. Rob smiled to himself. After all, he had succeeded in getting her to dance with him. Surely he could succeed in…
He just hadn’t wanted to marry again yet.
But Lord Rosley was speaking. “Take that chair, Duncan.” His lordship eased himself into a similar chair and carefully lifted one slippered foot onto a low stool. “May I offer you some Madeira? I’ll ask you to serve yourself.” He winced. “Damned gout!”
“Thank you. May I serve you some as well?” Rob went to the desk and lifted the decanter. Was that a growl issuing from his prospective father-in-law?
“Might as well. The curst quacks say it aggravates the curst gout, but I can’t see that it makes a curst bit of difference to leave it off.”
Rob poured two glasses. Hmm. Not a propitious moment to be attempting to mollify a distrustful father. A man suffering the agony of gout was not likely to be amenable to reason. But then again, neither was he likely to call one out into a snowy dawn.
Rob handed a glass to his lordship and returned to his chair. Time to resort to plain speaking. “My lord, please allow me to reassure you as to your daughter’s welfare. On my honor, she took no hurt at my hands. Nor was she injured in the snowslides. She must have had bruises, but she did not complain of them.”
“No, she wouldn’t.” Lord Rosley shifted his limb on the footstool and grimaced. “In her way she is a very strong young lady.”
“I noticed that.” Especially while she was pointing a pistol in my direction. “Her appearance is deceptive. One would not think…”
“There are many things about Iantha that one would not think.” Her father stared thoughtfully into the fire for a moment.
“The thing is…” Rob cleared his throat uneasily. This was the tricky part. “I believe that the most difficult circumstance of the situation for her was that I have only just returned from India and have not even a housekeeper to act as my hostess. Of course, we showed her every courtesy, but she seemed very distressed.”
“I can imagine.” Rosley sipped his wine, giving Rob a calculating glance over the rim of his glass. “Then you are not married?”
“No, sir. I am a widower.” There it was. The marriage hint. Rob drew a deep breath. “I would, however, be honored to make Miss Kethley my wife.”
“As you should be.” His lordship stared at him silently for several heartbeats.
Now what exactly did he mean by that? Rob sipped his own wine and awaited a further response. It was not forthcoming. He frowned. “I realize, of course, that my title is not the equal of yours and that I have engaged in trade for the last few years, but I can keep your daughter in comfort. I feel certain you would want my man of business to call upon yours to assure yourself of that fact.”
Lord Rosley waved a dismissive hand. “No, no. You misunderstand me. I daresay you can keep her, not only in comfort, but in luxury. Rumor has it that you are coming home a very wealthy man—a nabob, in fact. And your family has carried your title longer than mine has been in possession of ours. I have no objection to a man’s engaging in honest trade. All of us invest in various enterprises. Don’t know why we quibble at trade.”
He turned to gaze again into the fire. Rob waited. At last his lordship sighed and looked at Rob. “I meant only that any man should be honored to have Iantha for a wife. She is a fine young woman.” He moved his foot again, using both hands this time. “And I am comforted by your willingness to act as a gentleman and do the proper thing. I would be extremely happy to see her married to a man of your caliber.”
“But…?” Rob raised his eyebrows.
“But there is a circumstance you should know. I will understand, of course, if you wish to withdraw your offer.”
Rob’s eyebrows climbed higher. “I’m listening.”
Rosley nodded, then continued with the air of a man speaking between clenched teeth. “When Iantha was eighteen, she was attacked by a gang of…” His fist struck the arm of his chair. “I know no word foul enough for them. But not to wrap it up in clean linen—she was raped by several masked men. She does not even know how many.”
“My God!” Rob’s lips drew back in a snarl. “The… You are correct. No word filthy enough for them exists. No wonder she cannot endure the touch of a man.”
“Nor of anyone else. She even draws back from her mother when she seeks to comfort her. She shows physical affection only to her younger sister and brothers, but even with Thomas, since he is becoming a man…” Lord Rosley shook his head sadly.
For a moment Rob sat stunned by the enormity of the incident. That explained the proliferation of pistols. How had such a slight lady even survived? His own fist came down on his chair arm as a dark fury welled up in him. Had he but five minutes alone with each of those bastards…!
But he would not have that.
Rob took a long breath and let the anger flow out of him. “How did this happen?”
Rosley took a fortifying sip of wine. “It was the fall before she was to come out in the spring season. My oldest daughter, Andrea, was expecting a baby, and of course, Lady Rosley intended to go to her. But as bad luck would have it, Valeria and Nathaniel were both taken ill with the measles and needed her care. Complications developed. The children were very sick.”
He paused in his tale, deep feeling marking his face. “Iantha had already had the measles, so was in no danger of communicating them to Andrea, who had not. She wanted to see the child and London—get a feel for town before her come-out. So I consented to her going to help her sister. I would have accompanied her, of course, but I have never had the damn measles, either. Still haven’t had them. To be safe, I sent her in our own coach with a coachman, a footman and two armed outriders. And her old nurse as her chaperon.”
He stopped again, his voice choked with emotion. Rob waited silently and respectfully. After a time his lordship again took up the story. “They shot all four men from ambush and tied them to the wheels of the coach. One of them died. The nurse they killed out of hand.”
Now he ceased speaking altogether, bowed his head and covered his eyes with one hand. Rob’s heart ached with sympathy, and he wiped a tear from his own eye. “Lord Rosley, I can only imagine what you feel, but I believe I have some idea. I lost my daughter to illness.”
“Then perhaps you can comprehend.” The older man lifted his head. “To be laid by the heels here while those devils tormented my sweet Iantha… A day does not pass that I am not consumed by guilt.” He closed his eyes, his jaw tight.
What a horror for a father! Rob well understood the guilt, too, and the helplessness of not being able to save his child. It always seemed that there should have been something he could have done. He gave Lord Rosley a moment to compose himself, and then asked, “The authorities have never apprehended these villains?”
Lord Rosley shook his head. “Strangely, they have not. I hired Bow Street to pursue the matter, but they made no progress at all, even though they tell me that several similar incidents occurred at different places around the country that same year. I suspect the detectives’ lack of success has to do with the fact that the gang had all the accoutrements of—” he sneered and spat the word out “—gentlemen. They are not the ordinary rascals with whom Bow Street usually deals.”
“The runners are limited in whom they can question.”
“Exactly. Iantha has since received threatening and gloating letters couched in the vilest language. Thank God that she did not completely understand the words and thus brought them to me.”
