“What is it today?” Barbara called to him after pulling down the window. “A horse? A ship?”
“A cloud,” he said. “I am riding across the sky. Grandfer told me a story about a god who rode his chariot across the sky. But I am riding a cloud.”
“Eric,” Sir Henry said, “ask your mama if she will step outside for a moment.”
Eric went skipping off up the path.
“I will not intrude upon her,” Sir Henry explained when his sister looked at him in inquiry. “But I very much need to talk to her.”
She came, wiping her hands on a clean white apron as she did so. She did not look at the carriage but somewhere on the ground before her feet. She looked as if she might have been crying.
“Katherine,” Barbara said, “you are busy as usual, and as usual you make me feel like an idler.”
“Kathy,” Sir Henry said, “we have come from Penshurst. Lady Emily Marlowe was shot at this morning by an unknown person for an unknown reason.”
Her eyes looked up at him, wide with dismay.
“She was not badly hurt,” he said. “She is suffering more from shock than from her wounds, I believe. I tell you only so that you will be careful. So that you will stay close to the house unless your father is with you. And so that you will watch Eric. Promise me?”
Her face had blanched.
“Kathy?” he said.
“You have frightened her,” Barbara said. “There is no reason whatsoever to fear, Katherine. Only to be a little cautious, perhaps. How lovely all your flowers are. You are so very clever and industrious.”
Katherine Smith had set her arms around her son from behind. She lowered her face to kiss the top of his head.
“Kathy,” Sir Henry said. He sighed in frustration. “Be careful.” He signaled his coachman to drive on.
She stood for a long while with her arms about Eric, looking after the carriage. Eventually he protested and she released him so that he could continue with his game. She stared sightlessly around at the flowers.
25
EMILYcame downstairs for tea. Apart from a slight pallor and her heavily bandaged hand, one would not have known that anything was very wrong with her, Ashley thought, bowing over her good hand in the drawing room and seating her beside him on a sofa. She was dressed prettily and fashionably in spring green with delicate flowers embroidered onto her stomacher and the robings of her open gown. Her hair was neatly dressed beneath a frothy little wing cap. He resisted the need to sit closer to her than propriety would allow and to draw her arm through his.
She answered all inquiries about her health with a smile.
“She refused to lie abed any longer,” Anna said, “or to take any more laudanum. The hand must be very painful, though.”
“Sometimes pain is preferable to the feeling of being drugged,” Luke said. “’Tis but a cut, Anna, though a nasty one to be sure.”
“Lady Emily’s courage is to be much commended,” Major Cunningham said. “Many ladies of my acquaintance would cower in their rooms for days or even weeks after such an experience.”
Emily smiled her way through tea. Ashley noticed that she made little attempt to follow the conversation.
It had not taken Ashley long after the departure of Sir Henry Verney and his sister to realize that the mystery of what had happened to Emily that morning and two days before had deepened. Only she herself could enlighten them—but now seemed hardly the time.
Luke and Anna thought that they should take her away, back to Bowden, at least until Theo and Lady Quinn returned to London. Ashley could not help but agree, though with the greatest reluctance. He wanted to marry her. He was half convinced that this time she might be prevailed upon to accept his offer. But how could he marry her if she must leave Penshurst? If it was not safe for her?
There was only one answer, of course, and Roderick Cunningham had provided it in private, after the four-way conference on Emily’s safety had been concluded over luncheon: Ashley must live elsewhere with her. The offer to purchase Penshurst was still open.
It was an offer Ashley hated to consider seriously. Penshurst was his. He already felt the attachment of ownership. He and Emily had loved here and found happiness together here—lasting happiness, he hoped. He wanted to settle with her here, have children with her here, grow old with her here. He did not want to be driven away. He did not want to fear to bring her into this part of the world. And who knew for sure that the strange assaults would not follow her elsewhere? He would far prefer to find her assailant than to run from him—or her.
But he had told Roderick that he would think about selling.
His friend had laid a hand on his shoulder. “I know ’twould wrench your heart, Ash,” he said. “But I know that giving up Lady Emily would shatter it. Think about my offer. There is no hurry, no pressure. We are friends.”
“Come for a walk, Emmy?” Ashley asked now, setting a hand on hers to draw her attention. “The rain has stopped. Will it frighten you too much to leave the house? With me at your side?”
