Melinda Hammond (17 page)

 'You are not master here yet, Bannerman.' He hiccupped. 'Perhaps you never will be. I shall stay here until
I
choose to go.' He slopped more brandy into his glass and gave the company a mocking salute as he walked unsteadily across the room. Mrs Worsthorne followed him, her cheeks flushed with indignation.

 'Luke that is enough, I say.' She got no further. Luke shook off her restraining arm and as he did so he lost his balance and toppled forward into the fire. His head crashed against the stone mantel, the glass dropped from his hand to smash on the fender and Luke fell, unconscious, onto the flames.

* * * *

 Mrs Worsthorne screamed. Rafe Bannerman swiftly pushed her to one side and stepped forward to pull the lifeless form off the coals, but not before Luke's left sleeve was well alight. He dropped Luke to the floor and snatched up a cushion to smother the flames. Then he began carefully peeling the charred cloth from the arm.

 'Quickly ma'am. Fetch me cold water and some rags: we must cool the burned skin.'

 She ran quickly out of the room, calling for Ditton. She returned moments later with a large pitcher, while the butler followed with strips of clean sheeting which Mr Bannerman proceeded to drench in the cold water and wrap around the burned limb. With Ditton's help he lifted Luke onto the sofa, and Mrs Worsthorne placed a small table beside him to support the injured arm.

 'We must keep replacing the dressings,' muttered Mr Bannerman, rising to his feet. 'It is important that we reduce the heat from the burn as quickly as possible.'

 'I took the liberty of sending Thomas out to the ice-house, sir,' offered Ditton. 'I thought ice might help to facilitate the cooling.'

 'An excellent idea,' nodded Mr Bannerman. He smiled at Mrs Worsthorne. 'Don't fret, ma'am. We must be thankful it was only his arm that is burned and with such prompt action Luke will make a good recovery, with only a little scarring.'

 The young man stirred, muttering, and his fond mama knelt beside him, tenderly brushing the fair hair from his pallid face.

 'Hush love. You have burned your arm and must lie still for a little while.'

 'Must I?' he blinked at her. 'It hurts damnably.'

 'I know, my dear, but you must bear it a little longer. Thomas is gone to fetch ice to put on it and that will take away the pain.'

 Luke frowned and tried to rise but fell back, groaning.

 'Be still, love, hush now,' cried Mrs Worsthorne, pressing him back on to the sofa.

 Luke's face contorted with pain then with a shuddering sigh he sank back against the cushions and lay still.

 'He has fainted,' declared Mrs Worsthorne.

 'That is for the best, I think. He is in considerable pain.' Mr Bannerman put a fresh damp cloth over the arm while Mrs Worsthorne watched him, wringing her hands.

 'Oh where is Thomas? Ditton, do you go and find - oh thank goodness here he is!' she broke off as the door opened then gave a little scream as the footman appeared, a bucket of ice in one hand while his other arm supported the shivering and bedraggled figure of Verity Shore.

Chapter Fifteen

 'Oh my poor child, what has happened to you?'

 Mrs Worsthorne rushed forward and with a sob Verity fell into her arms.

 'She - she was locked in the ice-house,' stammered Thomas, handing the ice bucket to the butler.

 'What!' Mrs Worsthorne stared in horror at Verity's straw-covered gown. She guided the sobbing girl to a chair, urgently ordering the butler to bring a little brandy.

 It was some time before explanations could be offered. Mr Bannerman was busy packing ice around Luke's arm and Mrs Worsthorne hovered over Verity, coaxing her to take little sips of the brandy. Verity was shivering uncontrollably and Ditton was despatched to fetch a blanket.

 Mr Bannerman glanced up. 'My coat is over there, use that.'

 'No!' Verity clung to Mrs Worsthorne, trembling. 'No, not that.' She stared at Rafe Bannerman, her eyes dark with fear and the gentleman started to his feet.

 'Miss Shore - what is it, what has happened?'

 She shrank back in her chair. 'Don't come near me!'

 He stopped, frowning, and Mrs Worsthorne put her arm about Verity's shaking shoulders.

 'My poor child, drink your brandy, there's a good girl. It will restore you. Then you can tell us what has happened.'

 Obediently Verity sipped at the spirit. Ditton returned with a thick blanket which he placed tenderly about her shoulders while Thomas was making his explanation to Mr Bannerman.

 'I took the lantern and went out to the ice-house, as Mr Ditton asked me to do, sir, and I sees Will Barker just coming back from the fair so I asks him to come with me. We always goes in twos if we can, you see, because it's a fair drop down to the ice this year, and its better if there's someone to hold the ladder. Well, we opens up the door and I puts the ladder down ready to climb down to the ice when I hears this moaning. Frightened the wits out o' me, I can tell you, and then by the light o' the lantern I sees Miss curled up in the straw! Half dead she is with cold, so Will and I helps her up the ladder and brings her into the house.'

 'And the ice-house doors were closed, you say?

 'Aye sir. Both of 'em. And bolted, too.'

 'Thank you, Thomas.' Mr Bannerman nodded dismissal to the footman, who followed Ditton out of the room. As the door closed upon them, the gentleman shook his head. 'So it could not have been an accident.'

 Revived by the brandy, Verity raised her eyes to stare at him.

 'You know very well it was not.' She clung to Mrs Worsthorne. 'He tricked me. I - I followed him from the gardens and wh-when we reached the ice house he - he threw me onto the ice and shut me in.'

 She buried her face in Mrs Worsthorne's skirts, and that good lady gasped.

 'You must be mistaken, child.' She looked appealingly at Mr Bannerman, who shook his head. He was staring at Verity, his black brows drawn together.

 'I did not leave the office all afternoon.'

 Verity raised her head again. She held out her hand, opening the fingers to display the crumpled silk handkerchief bearing Rafe Bannerman's bold initials in one corner.

 'I saw you,' she said, her voice low and throbbing with anger. 'When Jed Gatley found the arrow head under Delphi's saddle I would not believe it was you - I did not want to believe it was you. But now….there can be no mistake.'

 'Verity -' he reached out to her, but she shrank away, trembling, and his hand fell. 'This is not the time to go into this.' He looked at Mrs Worsthorne. 'My presence here is disturbing Miss Shore. I will send Ditton and Thomas to take Luke up to his room and I will stay with him there. You might wish to send for the doctor in the morning, ma'am.' As he opened the door he cast a final, enigmatic glance at Verity huddled by the fire. 'Goodnight, my dear. You will not believe me, but I thank God you are safe.'

 Verity closed her eyes, trying to control the shivering that wracked her body while her fingers clung desperately to Mrs Worsthorne.

 'He must go.' She whispered. 'I will not have him in this house.'

 'But my love, he has just saved Luke from the most terrible suffering.'

 'He tried to kill me, Megs!'

 'I cannot believe it of Rafe,' cried Mrs Worsthorne in dismay. 'There is no reason … why should he want to harm you?'

 'He - he wants Highclough, Megs. He wants Highclough, but not me!'

 Mrs Worsthorne shook her head, disbelieving.

 'No, love, surely -'

 'Please Megs!' Verity was adamant. 'Tell him he must go.'

 'My dear child it is nearly midnight. You cannot turn him out now. Besides, he is tending to Luke, and there is no-one else who knows so well what to do….'

 'As soon as it is light, then.'

 The widow sighed and nodded.

 'Very well. I will tell him first thing in the morning.'

 'And g-give orders that Delphi is to be returned to Newlands. I will have nothing connected with Rafe Bannerman in this house, do you understand me Megs?'

 'Yes, yes, calm yourself, my dear. Now, here is Thomas and Ditton come to take Luke to his room. Careful now … put his arm across his chest, Thomas, that's it. And be careful not to jar him.'

 Having supervised her son's removal, Mrs Worsthorne turned back to Verity, her kind face creased with anxiety as she looked at the figure huddled in the chair.

 'It is time that we got you to bed, my love. We will make sure Ella has warmed your sheets for you.'

 'And can you have a bed made up for her in my room, ma'am? I c-cannot be alone tonight.'

 Mrs Worsthorne put her arm about her and helped Verity to her feet. 'To be sure we can, my love. We shall watch over you with the greatest care.'

* * * *

 Verity insisted on coming downstairs for dinner the following day, despite Mrs Worsthorne's protests. She was very pale, and the widow cried out in dismay at her appearance.

 'My love I feel sure you should have kept to your bed today, or at least allowed me to send Dr Haworth to look at you, when he had finished with Luke.'

 Verity shook her head as she lowered herself carefully into a chair.

 'Luke's falling into the fire could be explained by the fact that he was drunk. I fear the good doctor's suspicions would have been aroused if he had been called upon to attend me as well, and I have no wish to be the object of gossip and speculation. Don't look so anxious, Megs. I promise you I am merely a little bruised from the rough treatment I received yesterday, and I have done nothing more strenuous today than writing letters. How is Luke?' she changed the subject to one guaranteed to give Mrs Worsthorne's thoughts another turn.

 'Still sleeping. Dr Haworth has prescribed laudanum to ease the pain.' She hesitated. 'He praised our attempts to cool the arm and says he does not expect Luke to suffer any loss of movement.'

 'Thank heaven for that. As soon as he is well enough I need to talk to him about the estate accounts. I spent this afternoon looking through the ledgers but with little success. I fear he will think me quite dull-witted, for I could not understand a great deal of it.'

 'It pains me to confess that Luke was ever an untidy scholar,' admitted his fond mama. 'Unlike Rafe, who keeps his books in excellent order.' She paused and cast an uncertain glance across the table. 'Verity - my love, have you reconsidered the events of yesterday?'

 'You mean was I mistaken in accusing Rafe Bannerman of trying to kill me?' Verity sighed. 'It is not what I want to believe, in fact I thought … but I
saw
him, Megs.' Verity stared before her, such a look of despair in her face that Mrs Worsthorne's kind heart ached for her.

 'My dear, there could be another explanation….'

 'Oh Megs, I know, and it has been gnawing away at me all day. It is possible that someone took his coat and hat and tricked me - in fact the more I think of it the more I know it is possible, but who, Megs? Mr Bannerman has a reason for wanting me dead, for then he would inherit Highclough, but who else could it be? Who hates me enough to want me to die in such a fashion? If Luke had not been burned-!' She broke off, shuddering.

 'So, my love. If you do not believe Master Rafe to be the culprit…'

 'Why have I banished him from the house?' Verity spread her hands. 'A mixture of reasons, Megs, which I cannot explain, even to myself, but in the main … in the main because he accepts it! I accused him, Megs, and I thought he would refute it. I wanted him to tell me I was mistaken, to prove to me that he is innocent. Surely his very silence suggests his guilt?' she broke off, blinking away her tears.

 'So what will you do now?'

 'Do? I don't know yet. Highclough has given me some of my happiest memories …. and the worst. Once I have attained my majority and the property is secure, I may go abroad for a while. Don't look so sad, Megs, it was not my intention to upset you. Let us think instead of what you will do when Luke no longer has to look after Highclough for me. You will have a new house to keep.'

 'You mean at Sowerby? Yes, when Luke drove me over to see it last week I was pleasantly surprised. From his description I had feared we would be moving to a hovel, but it is quite a new property, and Ambrose gave orders for it to be fully refurbished not long before his death, so we shall be quite snug there.' She sighed. 'I only wish Luke was happier about it: he shows no interest in Sowerby. I fear leaving Highclough will be a wrench for him.'

 A wry smile lifted the corners of Verity's mouth.

 'It will be a wrench for me, too.'

* * * *

 With her birthday fast approaching, Verity began to take over more of the running of Highclough. Mrs Worsthorne was very happy to relinquish her housekeeping duties while she concentrated on nursing her son, whose accident had resulted in a fever. Unfortunately Miss Shore found that sorting linen and sketching in the shrubbery left her mind too much leisure to dwell on unpleasant memories, so she spent ever more of her time in the estate office. Gradually she began to bring some order to her cousin's haphazard system of working, but there were still many questions she could not answer and after several days of trying to make sense of the figures she made up her mind to talk to Luke. Mrs Worsthorne did not appear at breakfast, so as soon as she had given her daily orders to Ditton and to Cook, Verity made her way upstairs. She reached Luke's door just as Mrs Worsthorne came out.

 'How is he, Megs?'

 That lady shook her head.

 'Very fretful, my love. I have been sitting up with him for most of the night. The fever has lifted now, thank God, but it has left him weak, very weak. However, I have just given him laudanum and I hope now that he will sleep.'

 'Then I will not disturb him.' Verity put her hand out. 'Poor Megs, you look exhausted. Do you go and lie down for a while.'

 Megs went on her way and Verity lingered in the passage, looking out of the window. A low cloud hung over the moors and enveloping everything in a grey half-light. She was wondering if she should make one more attempt to understand the accounts when a commotion below reached her, and she hurried downstairs to find Rafe Bannerman on the doorstep and a harassed Ditton barring his entry into the house.