“There,” her mother said, sounding pleased. “Now, if you finish that, you’ll be right as rain soon. Not that I think rain is something you need, mind you. It was quite reckless, to be out in that shower!”
“I didn’t mean it,” Hestony murmured, but her mother was already standing and heading to the window.
“I’ll have the doctor come over again every day until you are well,” she said and Hestony could almost hear her making the mental list of things to do. “And we’ll have to get more firewood brought up.”
Hestony closed her eyes wearily. She wanted peace, and quiet, and darkness so that she could be spared from the pain in her head. Then she wanted somebody to ride out into the woods and make sure that no dark-clad men were lurking in there, ever again.
“Mama…” she began. She wanted so badly to tell someone about it!
“We should get Doctor Steading to stay here. I’ll have the box-room cleaned out, mayhap. He can stay in there. It will be difficult, but I’m sure we can manage…”
“Mama…” Hestony closed her eyes, deciding to give up. Her mother was busy planning every stage of her recovery, and she didn’t seem to particularly care what was wrong with Hestony, or what she was trying to say.
“There, now. Sleep and I’ll do everything I can to make you better.”
“Thank you, Mama,” Hestony murmured. “You’re very kind.”
Her mother beamed and Hestony turned away, as she left the room. She closed her eyes, at last able to get some sort of sleep.
She rolled over and wished once again that she could trust somebody enough to be able to tell them about the well-dressed highwayman. But everyone she knew was either too busy, too concerned, or too sick for her to even dream of worrying them.
I’ll just have to keep it to myself.
Chapter Four
Return to Home
Hal rode along the path to Westmore House, feeling his spirits lift. He had been so long in London, but now he was home again! He breathed in the fresh, dry scent of the fields as they baked in the sunlight and felt his spirits lift.
Soon, he would see Hestony again!
He quickened his pace to a trot. Around him, the landscape had intensified into a world of rich ocher, stretched out underneath a pale blue sky, in which larks wheeled and sang. His spirits rose, and he felt like one of those blithe spirits, rejoicing above the fields. He could not wait to see Hestony.
“Hello!” he hailed his cousins cheerily, waving at the window of the parlor. Luke always used to wait there when he came home. He frowned up, but there was nobody there.
He dismounted, feeling a little silly.
At the door, he knocked twice, and the butler – an elderly man named Mr. Halston – opened it. Hal felt immediately alerted: he looked pale and drawn. Hal’s heart beat faster. Had something happened to Luke?
“Good afternoon, sir.” Even his voice sounded grim.
“Hello, Mr. Halston,” Hal greeted. “Is Lord Westmore in?”
“Lord And Lady Westmore are still out, visiting Lady Hestony. Lady Westmore wished to tend to her.”
“Tend to her?” Hal stared at him from the doorway, half-shrugging out of his jacket. “What’s the matter with her?”
Mr. Halston looked quite shocked by the direct question. He wet his lips and answered. “She’s very ill, sir.”
“What?” Hal was horrified. He turned in the doorway and grabbed his hat.
“Sir?” Mr. Halston was still standing on the stairs, confusion on his face.
“Please inform Lord Westmore, if he gets back before me, that I went directly to call on Lady Hestony.”
He turned and walked swiftly down the stairs.
“Saddle a horse for me, please,” he said swiftly to a stable-hand. The youth ran to do his bidding. Ten aching minutes later, he was riding at a canter out to the manor.
All the way, his heart was beating fast with anxiety. What had happened? How ill was she? She had been well when he left! He couldn’t imagine what could have descended on her so suddenly, and how very bad it must be. He didn’t see the beautiful fields and the hills, or the oak trees clad in fine green leaves standing out against the sky. All he could think about was her.
“Where is Lady Hestony?” he demanded as the housekeeper opened the door. She stared at him, clearly deeply affronted.
“She’s upstairs abed, sir,” she said, her voice heavy with reproach. “Will you wait here in the anteroom until I fetch Lady Hartfield, her mother?”
“No, I have to see her,” Hal said, walking briskly past.
The housekeeper started to protest, but Hal wasn’t listening. He was already taking the steps at a run, heading upstairs.
“Lady Hestony?” he called.
He heard a gasp from the room on his left. The door was half-open and, without thinking, he pushed inside. He stopped and stared.
“Lady Hestony!”
She was lying in bed, propped up on the pillows. Her face was wax-pale and sheened with sweat. Her hair was combed back from her face, falling in loose curls down to the shoulders of her nightdress. He stared at her. In spite of the signs of travail on her face, she looked indescribably lovely.
“Hal.” Her voice was light like a breeze, but the look in her eyes took his breath away. “You’re here.”
“Of course, I am,” he said, coming to kneel by her bed. “I will never leave you, not unless you wish it.”
“You are silly, Hal,” she said gently. “Why should I ever wish it?”
She reached out her hand to him. Swallowing hard, he took it. He held his breath as he felt her slim fingers slip into his. He sat there with her hand in his and thought he had never felt so wonderful in all his days.
“Hestony,” he said after a long moment, when he had found his voice. “I thought…I was so worried! When I came in and found you sitting up, able to talk, I was…” he stopped, knowing that if he spoke again, he would cry.
“Oh, you silly,” she said again, very softly, a gentle smile flushing across her face. “I am not that ill – a fever, only. I will be back on my feet in no time.”
Hal smiled. “Good,” he said softly. “I will be pleased to be there when you are.”
In that moment, he suddenly became aware of the fact that he was sitting alone and unchaperoned in her bedchamber. He swallowed hard. He noticed a blush creep across her face and realized that she felt it, too.
He felt his finger rub nervously over her palm, his own hand sweating. Hestony smiled at him, a hesitant smile that nonetheless lit her eyes.