‘I’ll send for the doctor,’ he told her but she growled deep in her throat.
‘And what good can he do? No, what I want you to do is send for my mother and father. I want them both here.’
Barnaby dreaded another visit from his in-laws, especially so soon after the last one, but he didn’t hesitate. ‘Of course, I’ll write to them first thing in the morning.’
‘No!’ Her voice cracked like a whip. ‘I want you to send someone to fetch them or go yourself.Now!’
‘But my dear. It isn’t even light yet. Can’t I set off later?’
‘No, I want them herenow!’
With a sigh, he glanced towards Ruffy, who was standing silently with tears glistening on her lashes and then nodded. ‘Very well, I’ll go and get ready immediately.’
Mrs Ruffin followed him out onto the landing and once the door of the bedroom had closed behind them, she confided, ‘I fear she doesn’t have much longer. She’s eating practically nothing now and the pain is constant, poor lamb.’
‘I see.’ He swiped a lock of dishevelled blond hair from his forehead and nodded. ‘Very well, I’ll do as she asks and return with her parents as soon as I’m able to.’
When he entered the stables dressed in his jodhpurs and a warm overcoat, he found them in darkness and most of the horses asleep in their stalls. The grooms were clearly all in bed and rather than disturb them Barnaby saddled his stallion himself. He was aware that it would be a treacherous journey in the dark across the moors but what choice did he have?
Eventually he was ready and swinging himself up onto the saddle he clicked his tongue to encourage Star, his pure black thoroughbred, across the cobbled yard, then once they were clear of it and on the drive, he urged him into a gallop and they were off.
*
‘Eeh, yer should ’ear the poor mistress howlin’,’ Becky told Amber the next morning after taking the breakfast tray down to the kitchen. ‘The staff are creepin’ about the house like ghosts an’ yer can ’ear her in every room apart from up ’ere. They’re whisperin’ downstairs that they reckon she’s on ’er last legs.’
‘How awful.’ Amber felt sorry for her, she was still only a very young woman after all.
‘The doctor’s just arrived,’ Becky went on. ‘They’re sayin’ the master left word fer someone to fetch him first thing. He went off in the middle o’ the night to fetch her parents, apparently. Rather ’im than me, venturin’ across the moors in the dark.’
Amber shrugged. She didn’t much care what happened to the master if truth be told, but she did feel sorry for the mistress.
*
It was early evening when the master arrived home looking weary, and after leaping lithely down from the saddle, he threw Star’s reins to the groom in the yard and told him, ‘Be sure to give him a good rub down, he’s worn out.’
The groom didn’t need to be told that. The horse’s head was drooping and steam was rising from his flanks in the bitterly cold air as he led him away, muttering soothing words.
Barnaby meanwhile strode into the house and without stopping to remove his muddy riding boots, much to the maid’s disgust, he took the stairs two at a time.
‘How has she been?’ he asked Mrs Ruffin the instant he entered Louisa’s room.
Before she could answer, his wife barked, ‘You can address your questions to me, you know! I’m not quite dead yet, although it’s no thanks to you! And where are my parents?’
‘They’re following on in their carriage,’ he answered. Then his expression softened as he asked, ‘Would you like me to have the babies brought down for you? It might cheer you up.’
‘That’s about the last thing I need,’ she retorted as she waved her hand dismissively and with a sigh he turned and left to ask the maids to prepare a room for his in-laws.
It was very late that evening by the time they arrived and they were both tired and irritable after the long journey. Some of the staff had already retired to their beds but Nancy had volunteered to wait up to greet them and get them anything they might need.
‘Tea, as quick as you please, girl,’ Margaret Hamilton-Tate told Nancy rudely as she flung her hat and cape towards her in the hall. ‘And something to eat to tide us over until breakfast wouldn’t go amiss either!’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Nancy quickly hung the cape up and while Mrs Hamilton-Tate went straight upstairs to her daughter’s room, her husband made for the drawing room. Thankfully Nancy had thought to go in and make the fire up so it was warm and cosy as he crossed to a cut-glass decanter and poured himself a generous shot of whisky. He felt he needed it after the journey they had just endured being jostled about on the rough roads across the moors.
Having found her daughter sleeping, his wife joined him a short time later and soon after Nancy brought them a pot of tea and some slices of cold meat pie left over from dinner. She’d waited up long enough now and was ready for her bed so if they needed anything else they could damn well get it themselves, she decided as she stamped away up the bare wooden stairs that led to the servants’ quarters.
Shut away in the nursery, the next few days passed much as they always did for Amber and Becky, apart from two short visits from Margaret Hamilton-Tate who came to briefly visit her grandchildren.
‘She’s a cold fish, ain’t she?’ Becky snorted with disgust after one such visit. ‘She won’t even pick the babbys up fer fear o’ creasin’ her posh gowns. Still, it’s her loss, ain’t it? I reckon they’re both little crackers.’ As usual she was cradling baby David, who she had taken a great shine to. She had endless patience with him but despite all her best efforts, even she had got little response from him.
