Chapter Twenty-Nine
Eli brought hisgig to a halt in front of Clarion Hall at dusk, rousing Fanny from her sleep where she leaned against him. They had stumbled into the stable yard of the Willow less than an hour before, staying only long enough to hand Galant, limping yet steadfast, into the hands of Alfred the ostler and hitch Cicero to Eli’s gig.
Eli had known Alfred since boyhood and trusted him to care for Goodfellow’s loyal horse. Eli explained that he had removed a stone from Galant’s hoof but there was a crack in the frog, the soft sole in the center.
“Probably stepped on a piece o’flint. Sharp edges on flint,” Alfred murmured, soothing the animal. “Needs poultices and care, but he’ll heal. Be right as rain in time.” He lifted his eyes and nodded at Eli. “You did well to dismount and walk, Mr. Eli.”
Eli had no energy for relief. After Galant had begun to limp, they had walked all day, leading him. Three wrong turns and a swollen creek hadn’t helped. Now they arrived at last, filthy, scratched by brambles, aching from their misadventures, and utterly exhausted.
Eli climbed down from the gig, the muscles in his back protesting, and went around to help Fanny. She put her hands on his shoulders. He took her by the waist, but when she sagged against him, he swept her into his arms and carried her up the steps to the hall.
Harris opened the door. His eyes flew open wide, and he hissed a command at a waiting footman.
Eli reached the top, paused to lean against the frame momentarily. He took two steps into the hall’s massive entranceway before the sound of running footsteps came from the hallway leading into the lower rooms. Goodfellow dashed forward first, but the Earl of Clarion hurried behind him, came to a halt, and with what looked like deliberate effort, wrapped his customary dignity around him.
Other voices sounded above, and the nursery denizens scrambled down the massive, curving stairs. Several people spoke at once.
“What has happened to Miss Hancock?” the earl demanded.
“What took you so long?” Goodfellow asked.
“Is Fanny dead?” Marj asked with a tremor.
“Is she sick?” Amy demanded with no less horror.
Clarion took command, directing Eli to carry her to the nearest parlor. He spewed a spate of orders that Harris most likely would have known to do without being told. “Send to the kitchen for food—and tea. Bring Miss Hancock’s maid to assist her, and have bathwater sent up to the room we prepared for her.”
“Water,” Eli interjected. “Quickly.” He knelt at her side.
“Send for Dr. Farley,” Clarion continued, smoothly.
“No need.” Fanny’s voice sounded weak and thready as Eli laid her on a sofa. Wil’s hat came off in the process, and her hair tumbled around her shoulders.
“Every need,” Clarion said.
Eli took her hands in his. “We’re home,” he said rather pointlessly.
Fanny smiled wearily, her eyes fixed on his. “Thanks to you.” Her eyes flickered over his shoulder at Clarion. “I’m sorry to be such a weakling. It has been a trying day.”
Amy pressed close to Eli’s shoulder. “Are you truly well, Fan? You frightened me.”
Fanny pushed herself upright with a groan. “Merely tired.”
“Exhausted. And scratched to bits and…” Eli’s voice trailed off when she raised her hand.
“But not shot. Not kidnapped. Not abducted to some horrid place.” She glanced up at Goodfellow. “Thanks to my heroic protectors.”
Eli’s heart twisted.Of course. Goodfellow is the heroic one. And Reilly. Reilly!He looked up at Goodfellow. “How are Reilly and Williams? Was there a second attack?”
“Both are healing nicely.” Before Goodfellow could continue, the pot boy bustled in with a jug of water and two mugs, awed to be in such an august assembly.
Fanny’s hands, Eli saw, trembled while she downed first one mug of water and then another. He did the same.
She dropped her head back against the sofa. “Heaven. The most glorious drink I’ve ever had,” she said.
“It was only water, silly,” Amy told her. The little girl hopped up next to her big sister, and Fanny gave her a one-armed hug.
“I pulled Eli’s gig around to the stables. Harris sent his gear to his rooms and Fanny’s to hers.” Wil came directly to the group huddled around his sister. “Are you well, Fanny? You look a mess.”
