“Oh!” Harriet said, her hands clenched into fists at her side, “You are always saying that. You are beginning tosound like a parrot who has learned only one phrase. Getaway from here, Mr. Carver. I do not need you or anyoneelse telling me what I should do.”
Rebecca finally regained the use of both her feet and her voice. She rushed forward. “Harriet,” she hissed, “whatis going on here?”
“Oh, not you too, Rebecca,” Harriet said crossly. “The whole militia will be here soon.”
“You were not really planning to elope, were you?” Rebecca asked incredulously, but she glanced at Harriet’spelisse and at the two bandboxes that had been half hiddenbeneath the seat of the curricle, and looked back accusingly at her cousin. “Oh, Harriet,” she said, “how couldyou? I did not think that even you could be so lacking inconduct. You must come back with me at once to Maude.We must be very thankful that you have been discoveredbefore it is too late.”
“Ah, and here comes Sinclair too,” Mr. Bartlett said. “The whole righteous crew. Are you forever to dog myfootsteps, Sinclair? I quite fail to see what concern Harrietis of yours. However, it does seem that there is to be noelopement tonight. One can hardly wave good-by to afarewell party when one is eloping. The effect would bequite ruined.”
Rebecca, glancing briefly at Christopher, was amazed to see just how furious he was. She was suddenly afraid andcaught at Harriet’s arm in an attempt to remove her fromthe scene. But Harriet shook off her hand impatiently.
“Leave me alone, Rebecca,” she said. “And all of you can go to the devil for all I care.”
To her chagrin no one appeared to pay her the least attention except Rebecca, who caught at her arm again.
“Come away, Harriet,” she said urgently. “There is going to be violence here.”
Christopher had moved across to stand in front of Mr. Bartlett, beside his friend. “Stand back, Luke,” he said.“This is mine. Your behavior here is very much myconcern, Bartlett,” he said, his voice shaking with suchanger that Rebecca pulled anew at Harriet’s unresponsivearm. “I should have killed you several years ago, or atleast punished you to such a degree that you would neverhave attempted anything like this ever again. I let you gothen, thinking you were beneath my contempt. This timeyou will not escape so lightly. This time you have committed the mistake of making an innocent though headstrongyoung girl of good family your victim. You had betterprepare to defend yourself.”
He began methodically to remove his coat and roll back his shirt sleeves. Without turning around or removing hiseyes from his adversary, from whose face the unruffledcalm had vanished, he said, “Becky, will you take yourcousin away from here, please? What is about to happen isnot for the eyes of ladies.”
Suddenly Harriet’s arm was no longer resistant. She looked at Rebecca, bewildered, the beginnings of fear inher eyes.
“Stop them!” she said. “Stop them, Rebecca.”
“Come,” Rebecca said calmly, “we will go and find Maude. I don’t believe there is any way to stop this fight,and I am not sure I would try even if I thought therewere.”
Harriet allowed herself to be led around to the front of the parsonage and out into the street. It seemed somethingof a shock to both that the crowds and the noise and thedancing were proceeding just as they had been all evening.
Yet they were not the only ones who were not involved in the festivities. As they drew closer to the crowd, theybecame aware of Mrs. Sinclair and Ellen hurrying towardthem.
“Ah, thank goodness,” Mrs. Sinclair sang out when they were still several yards distant. “We have searchedall over the place for you two young ladies. Mr. Sinclairand Julian have gone looking in the other direction. AndChristopher is nowhere to be seen either.”
“What has happened?” Rebecca asked.
“My dear,” said Mrs. Sinclair, “a servant came riding in from Limeglade to say that his lordship has taken a turnfor the worse and that Dr. Gamble was to come and LadyHolmes. Poor lady! She was almost distracted what withblaming herself for leaving him and looking in vain for Harriet. ‘You take our carriage, your ladyship,’ I said,‘and leave everything else to us. We will see that Harrietcomes home as soon as may be.’ Julian was going to driveher, but the Reverend Everett was kind enough to take herhimself. He will be a comfort to her and to Lord Holmes ifhe really is poorly.”
“Papa?” Harriet said rather shakily. “He is really sick? I must go to him at once. Rebecca, come with me, willyou?”
“Yes, of course,” Rebecca replied. “We shall take the gig at once. It is such a bright moonlit night that there willbe no trouble seeing our way.”
“Not alone,” Mrs. Sinclair said firmly. “I will not hear of it, my dears. Julian will take you when he comes backfrom searching for you in the other direction. Ah, thankgoodness. Here comes Christopher.”
They all turned to watch him walk along the street beside Mr. Carver. To Rebecca’s searching eyes, he lookedquite as calm and immaculate as he had looked earlier inthe evening. There was no sign of Mr. Bartlett.
“Christopher,” Mrs. Sinclair called, “here are the Misses Shaw with an urgent need to return home. Poor LordHolmes has taken a bad turn and the doctor and the ladieshave been sent for. The vicar has taken Lady Holmesalready and left the gig for the young ladies. And I havejust been saying that I will not hear of them going offalone.”
“Indeed not,” he said, looking with quiet sympathy at Harriet and Rebecca. “I shall accompany them, Mama.You need not worry. We had best leave immediately. Willyou take my arm, Miss Shaw?” These last words weredirected quite gently to Harriet, who indeed was looking asif she was not capable of getting anywhere under her ownpower.
It was an almost silent journey. Rebecca could not guess what Christopher’s thoughts might be. He appeared perfectly calm, and there was no sign that he had just beeninvolved in a fight—no black eyes or bloody nose or splitlips. She longed to ask him what had happened, where Mr.Bartlett was now, how Mr. Carver had discovered theelopement plan, why he had been quite so angry with Mr.Bartlett, what exactly he had meant by his references tothe past, if he was nursing some broken ribs or some otherghastly but invisible injury.
She wanted to question Harriet, to find out why the girl had been, about to elope with Mr. Bartlett, where they hadplanned to go, what they had planned to do afterward. Herhead teemed with enough questions to keep them all talking nonstop during five journeys from the village toLimeglade. But she said nothing. And what of UncleHumphrey? Had the doctor been right and was he nowreally ill?
“It is all my fault that Papa is ill at all,” Harriet said from her seat between Rebecca and Christopher. Her voicewas unusually subdued. “That journey to Cenross Castlewas just too much for him. Do you think he is really ill,Rebecca?”
Rebecca murmured something soothing.
“I know what you are both thinking,” Harriet blurted a little later. “You both despise me.”
