Trials of Artemis (26 page)

Jack
awoke early and stared at the window as dawn lightened the edges of her
curtains. Justin still hadn't written and she felt conflicted. She was afraid to
resume a close relationship with her husband if his politics proved to be
untenable to her. On the other hand, when he had stiffened and walked away
after her comment about family, she had felt horrible. A man who was never
close to anyone had admitted to her that he missed her company, and she had
thrown it back in his face. It didn't help that pregnancy was making her weepy
and emotional. Other than the morning meeting with Mrs. Gladstone over the
household affairs, a meeting they were now taking in Jack's sitting room since
her illness, she tried to avoid anyone else in the household. She found that
the French novels and plays she preferred made her cry and was now reading
scientific texts in an effort to keep hold of her emotions. She was afraid to
write any of these details to her friends because Gideon might intercept and
read the letters. She had never felt more alone in her life.

She
knew from Mrs. Gladstone's updates that the earl had followed through on her
suggestion to employ the four oldest Hobbes children and that they had arrived
almost a week ago. She had asked Mrs. Gladstone to send Emmy home to help her
mother until Jack was feeling better. Meanwhile, by the housekeeper's reports,
it sounded like the other children were settling in well. She supposed she
should see to having some appropriate frocks made for Emmy's role as companion.
There were many things that needed to be done. But first she would start with
breakfast. Throwing back the covers she prepared to go downstairs for the first
time in almost two weeks. After many fights with her strong-willed best friends
she knew that the best course when having done a wrong was to apologize as soon
as possible. From what she had seen, the earl had Sabre's temper and George's
capacity to hold a grudge. The morning should prove interesting.

When
Gideon entered the breakfast room his wife was sitting at her place arranging
items on her plate to her satisfaction. He considered turning and walking out.
Strongly considered it. But, since that would be craven, he instead took a
steadying breath and walked to his place at the table. The footman held out his
chair and as he settled into it he could smell her soap. The least the damned
woman could do was sit at the other end of the table now.

"Good
morning, Gideon," she said, still not looking up from her plate.

That
simple statement left him wanting to blister her with his response. He had
hoped that the brutal gallop he had taken Falcon on over the Downs would have
helped to settle his temper, but apparently not. After the initial shock had
worn off he had spent the night pacing his room like a caged animal, torn
between grief and rage. After finally falling asleep, he had awakened with a
dream he hadn't had since childhood of walking all the halls of Kellington and
finding everyone dead.

He
still hadn't responded when she continued. "I wanted to apologize for what
I said last night. It was petty and childish of me."

At
that she finally raised her gaze to his and he saw that her eyes were reddened
and sad. Even through his hurt and anger he hated to see her looking miserable,
and that just served to irritate him more. It didn't do to allow her to affect
him with her tantrums and changes of mood. He resolved to treat her as he would
a peer in the House. He had never allowed any of them to unman him. Even Quince
couldn't provoke him anymore while in the House.

"Think
nothing of it," he said with a shrug. "Are you feeling better?"

"Some,
thank you."

"You'll
never recover if that's all you eat," he said, indicating the small
portion of toast and egg she was pushing around her plate.

"If
I eat any more it doesn't do well."

He
shrugged again. "As you wish."

"Gideon,
I wondered if I could ask of you a favor."

She
still sounded pitiful and by the gods he wished that he had a tot of brandy.
She was giving him a headache. "Ask," he said abruptly.

"If
when next you go to London I could go with you to see my... to see my parents
and sister."

He
could tell that she had stopped from saying her family. To see her family, her
real family. Rather than being with what she saw as a failure of a husband. He
ground his back teeth together but responded with equanimity. "If you
like."

"Thank
you, Gideon."

He
wished that she would stop using his name. "I thought that you might want
to remove to our estate in Staffordshire when they repair to the country after
the season, so as to be closer."

"Oh,
they will be staying in London after the season."

"No,
I saw to it. They will be returning to Derbyshire. My manor in Staffordshire is
less than an hour by carriage and I thought you might appreciate the
proximity."
 

He
thought she was quiet for a suspiciously long time, He finally looked at her
again to find she had a stricken expression and tears streaming down her face.
"What?" he asked irritably. He had arranged all of this for her
benefit and she was looking at him like he'd killed a puppy.

"I
knew that I would eventually be banished to a minor property but hadn't
expected it within the first month." She covered her mouth on a sob and
lurched to her feet. With that, she stumbled to the door and fled the room.

When
he had made the arrangements he had planned to go with her, but as he didn't
imagine he would now, it hardly mattered to explain that. He was at a loss over
what to do. Perhaps, despite her reaction at the news, she would be happier
without him. He couldn’t think of anyone close to him that he hadn’t
disappointed. Why had he expected it to be any different with her?

He
hadn’t cried since he was very small, but he recognized the hot, pricking
feeling at the back of his eyes. He rose abruptly from the table, almost
knocking over his chair. Certainly the stables had another horse in need of
exercise.

Jack
sobbed into her pillow until she was thoroughly sick of crying. Perhaps it was
for the best that she hide herself away in Staffordshire. She would have her
parents and Sam nearby when the babe came. Provided that all this emotional
tumult didn't make her lose it. She wrapped her arms around herself and
wondered what parts of Gideon that the child would have. His kindness or his
arrogance? His eyes? His unruly dark hair? With these thoughts she drifted off
to sleep again.

Jack
awoke to Lara shaking her shoulder. "My lady, my lady, please wake
up."

Her
mind was muddled with a nap that must have lasted most of the day if the light
from her windows was any indication. "What is it Lara?"

"The
earl is in terrible trouble."

At
that she sat up. "What happened? Where is he?"

"Please
come downstairs to talk to Mr. Gladstone."

Not
even bothering to straighten her hair or morning dress, Jack ran down the steps
after Lara to find the front hall full of servants. Dibbs and Philip Gladstone
were easy enough to spot in the crowd.

"What's
happened? Where is my husband?" Jack demanded.

Dibbs
looked coldly at Philip Gladstone and the younger man stepped forward, twisting
his hands together and not looking up at Jack. "The owlers have him, Lady
Harrington."

She
felt her heart lurch in her chest.
"The
smugglers? How on earth... I thought those were old stories."

"No
my lady," Philip said. "Since the war they have been bringing in
French wine and fabrics."

"How
did you know that?"

Philip
began to look even more miserable and Dibbs prodded him. "Answer the
countess."

"I've
been helping them."

Jack
heard a whimper from the sidewall and saw that Mrs. Gladstone was propped in a
chair with two maids fanning her face.

Steeling
herself to hear the story, Jack said "Tell me what happened."

Philip
looked at the ring of angry faces around him, then swallowed and began
speaking. "Well, the owlers, they've been using a cave in the cliff side
for storage. The earl hasn't shown any interest in riding the cliffs for the
last few years. But this afternoon... This afternoon he did."

"And
then?"

"He
must have been curious when he saw crates on our shore because he came down to
the beach. One of the men caught him from behind. I was talking to Belfor...
he's the uh, he's their leader, when the men brought him in."

"What
is his condition? Was he stabbed or..." Jack trailed off and her heart was
in her throat while waiting for the answer.

"He
was unconscious. The man must have hit him with a club or some such."

She
let out the breath she had been holding. Such a head injury could be terrible
but not necessarily fatal. She turned to Dibbs. "Has the constabulary been
called?"

Dibbs
looked at Philip with a raised brow. "According to Mr. Gladstone that
would be a mistake because they are, how did you phrase it? On the take."

Jack
looked at Philip again. Her voice cracked as she considered the possibilities."Are
you here to ask for the ransom?"

Philip
was traumatized. "No, my lady! As soon as I recognized the earl I snuck
out to come back here so that we could determine what to do."

She
looked around the room at the shocked and fearful faces of the staff. Her
people. Their people. They loved Gideon and would probably do anything for him
but they needed leadership if they were to do it. By the gods, why wasn’t it
Sabre here instead of herself? Sabre, who had won almost every game of war they
had ever played. Jack took a deep breath and tried to control her rapidly
escalating fear. Yes, Sabre had won every war. But Jack had won a good number
of battles. And that was all this was. A battle.

"Dibbs,
find out who among the staff have military service and have them meet me in the
library, and then send for Dr. Galloway. We don't know what we'll be dealing
with yet. Also, have my weapons brought down from my room. Lara can help you
find them. Mrs. Gladstone, you and your maids make sure that there are clean
bandages and other supplies readied. Mr. Gladstone, you are with me." With
that she swept out of the front hall and toward the library, the staff
springing into action behind her. Once they were alone in the library she spun
on the young steward. "If you are lucky, my husband will deal with you. My
current level of charity would find you face down in the marsh."

Paling
even further the young man stuttered. "Y-yes, my lady."

She
rifled through the desk in the room until she found a fairly large piece of
parchment, which she laid out on the library table. "Now you're going to
give me all the details you can about the geography and the owlers."

Jack
spent the next half hour going over details with Philip. As much as she hated
the delay, it was best to be prepared when walking into a situation such as
this. Not that she'd ever been in a situation such as this. She searched her
mind for advice from the Greek and Roman generals she had studied. Strategy and
tactics that had only been of intellectual interest now had much more weight.
She had to find some way to apply what she knew or she might be a widow before
the night was out.

Six
men from the staff had military experience and all were ready to serve.
However, by Philip's account there were least eight owlers. While briefing the
experienced men she sent Dibbs to find twelve more volunteers. Enough to
overpower the owlers two to one, not so many that stealth wasn't an option.
Once she had the men assembled she broke them into three-man teams with a
former soldier in charge of each one. After setting aside her chosen weapons, she
let the men augment their own supplies from hers. Although there were some
murmured comments and raised eyebrows, they armed themselves readily enough.

She
dismissed them briefly, instructing them all to change into dark clothing,
running upstairs to change clothes herself. Meeting them again in the front
hallway, she stood on a step and looked out over her assembled team. If the
owlers were as vicious and brutal as Philip described them then it was likely
that at least some of these men would die tonight. It was possible that she
should wait for a ransom request. Surely the smugglers wouldn't murder a peer
as they would all hang. But then, they would hang for smuggling if discovered.

No,
she couldn't bear the thought of Gideon dying due to her inaction. The faces of
the men here, some of them boys really, all showed a clear resolve. They were
looking to her to lead them down to the beach and rescue the earl. Now was not
a time to be frozen with indecision.

She
caught the butler's eye. "Dibbs. Keep Mr. Gladstone contained until we
return."

"Yes,
my lady."

Her
attention back on the volunteers, she spoke in a voice edged with steel,
"This will be difficult and probably dangerous. But as we all know, it is
something that his lordship would do for us so we cannot fail to do it for
him." Her small speech was met with the ayes and nods she had been hoping
for.
 
Encouraged, she led the group
out into the falling night. It had been over an hour since the earl had been
taken and she could but hope that he was still alive.