His shoulder was numb. The sleeve of his green riding coat had turned the color of claret, the wound bleeding profusely. He became damnably dizzy and swayed in the saddle. “Take me home, Onyx,” he murmured, hunched over the horse’s neck.
His eyelids grew heavy and despite his fighting it, they closed. He struggled to stay in the saddle, barely aware of the horse’s rhythmic gait.
“Milord! What happened?”
“Shot.” Dominic opened his eyes and looked groggily at Fellows. Onyx had done as he asked. Damn fine horse, he thought vaguely.
“Let me help you down.”
Fellows dragged Dominic off the horse and called for the stable boy and Grimsby to assist him.
“Well done, Onyx,” Dominic mumbled. “I’ll be all right, Fellows. Just get me to bed.”
His knees gave way and blackness descended.
*
In the servants’hall, Olivia instructed the new arrivals, then sent them to their chambers to freshen up. She needed a walk to order her still rampaging emotions. Rather than send a footman on an errand, she entered the village, intent on purchasing a few items at the haberdashers. Friends halted her progress along the main street. Mrs. Buckhurst spoke in glowing terms of her daughter Reanna’s engagement to Jack Dowd. Miss Franklin expressed her joy about the Graves’ newborn, praising the Lord that mother and baby survived. The christening would be this Sunday.
When their curious questions turned to inquiries about Redcliffe, Olivia made her excuses and entered the haberdashery, where a customer talked about the rebuilding of the Johnson’s barn. “Unlike his uncle, the earl is a very generous man,” she gushed. She patted her bonnet and left the shop.
Mr. Mockford turned his attention to Olivia. “Good to see you, Miss Jenner.”
“How are you, Mr. Mockford?”
“Looking forward to spending my days in the garden.”
“You don’t yet have a buyer for the haberdashery?”
“Not yet. But I’m confident someone will.”
“I’m sure of it. It is a tidy business.”
She kept her plans to herself as she gave him her order.
He wrapped her parcels in brown paper. “You look a trifle peaky. I have an excellent tonic I can recommend.”
“I’m merely a little tired, but thank you.” She smiled and gathered up her parcels. “I shall rally presently.”
“I’m pleased you have a good position. Lady Lowry has dismissed your replacement, Mrs. Turner,” he said, halting Olivia at the door. “Her ladyship has gone to Newcastle in search of another.”
Olivia suffered a swift pang of sympathy. Meg Turner had been a dear friend once and had been Lord Willowbrook’s housekeeper until he died. What could have happened? “Poor Mrs. Turner. She is extremely competent. I’m sure it was unjustified. What about the rest of the staff?”
“Still there.” He leaned on the counter.
He loved a chat, and while Olivia wished to learn more about his retirement plans, other matters needed her attention. The most prominent: what to do about Redcliffe. But she was relieved to learn Lady Lowry’s servants kept their positions. Work was scarce. Gaining confidence, Emily had proved to be an excellent housemaid, and Olivia wouldn’t hesitate to hire any other staff member Lady Lowry might take it into her mind to let go. She’d found them all very capable.
After waiting for a wagon to pass, she crossed the street, intending to take the short way home, across the meadow to Redcliffe Hall. Her journey into town failed to help her sort out her problem, and she wasn’t confident the few miles back would, either. How did one stop their heart from loving the wrong person? If she disapproved of him or knew him to be a scoundrel, it would be easier. But apart from wanting her, he’d done nothing to make her dislike him. And much for her to admire.
Her walk took her down a different street from the usual way. As she turned a corner, she caught sight of Mrs. Hobbs entering through a cottage gate. It was not the laundress’s day off. Prepared to give Mrs. Hobbs the benefit of the doubt, Olivia still wasn’t happy about the woman’s tendency to be secretive.
She went a few steps farther, then stopped. Wasn’t that Mr. Pike’s cottage? The one with the green gate and well-tended hedge. She remembered her father pointing it out to her once. She turned back for another look to make sure. It was. Olivia continued on. Apparently, Pike and Mrs. Hobbs knew each other. Were they related?
As she expected, thoughts of Redcliffe returned to plague, yet perplexingly thrill her. Still indecisive, she passed through the Redcliffe Hall gates. If she were sensible, she would hand in her notice. She was sure he would supply her with a good reference. But to her dismay, she discovered she wasn’t the sensible woman she’d thought herself. Although she knew it was inevitable, leaving Redcliffe Hall and its owner seemed too painful to contemplate.
A team of busy servants filled the kitchen with the preparations for the next meal covering the big, scoured oak table, along with a bowl of eggs, a basket of fruit, and vegetables. The kitchen maids greeted her as they chopped herbs, while Henry peeled potatoes.
Sam turned as he stirred gravy in a pan for a beef and kidney pie, the pastry for the pie already prepared. The smell wafting about the kitchen was delicious.
