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Leonora could not speak, her teeth were chattering so much. Unconcerned by propriety when a life was in the balance, Lord Rokeby hitched up Leonora’s skirt so she could sit astride in his saddle, her naked legs almost blue as they hung down against Jupiter’s glossy flanks. He sprang up behind to sit on Jupiter’s rump, with his arm around Leonora’s waist to keep her from falling. Then he drove Jupiter into a canter.
Leonora’s mind slipped in and out of reality; she did not quite know where she was but she knew she was safe. The arms tight around her belonged to the man she loved; she felt his warmth pressed against the frigid cold of her back. When they reached the Abbey, Lord Rokeby dismounted and she almost fell into his arms. He called for his groom. ‘Help me carry Miss Appleby into the drawing room where there are remnants of last night’s fire. Then take the curricle and collect Mrs Priddy from the Manor. Tell her to bring some warm clothes.’
The two men laid her gently on the sofa by the fire; her body was limp and her lips, blue. Lord Rokeby chafed her hands. ‘Miss Appleby, don’t slip into sleep. Nanny P will soon be here. You don’t want to alarm her.’ His voice was urgent, his face, distraught. Roddy left to collect Mrs Priddy and Lord Rokeby called for Mistress Plum, his cook, his most capable female servant, to come and remove Leonora’s sodden bathing dress.
Despite his damaged leg he ran up the stairs and returned with the only piece of his mother’s clothing he had kept, her ermine-lined opera cloak, together with the wolfskin cover from his own bed. The cook was just undoing the buttons of Leonora’s gown when he entered. ‘I’ll leave you to this, Mistress Plum. I must also change. Dress Miss Appleby in my mother’s cloak then cover her with the fur blanket. I’ll be back in five minutes. I’ll put your kettle on the stove. We’ll need warm drinks.’
Alistair Rokeby was gripped by the same fear he had endured when his brother was cradled in his arms, his life slipping away in front of his eyes. The second person he loved more than life itself was here in his house, her own life hanging by a thread. He stripped off his clothes and dressed quickly in a clean shirt and breeches. He did not have time to shave and his face was grey with worry and the night’s stubble. All that concerned him was to return to Leonora as quickly as possible.
Lord Rokeby re-entered his drawing room to find his cook brushing Leonora’s hair off her forehead and chafing her hands while she lay under his wolfskin blanket, colour slowly returning to her face. ‘Thank you, Mistress Plum. I will take over until Mrs Priddy arrives. Could you bring us two cups of hot chocolate, please?’
Leonora’s eyes flickered open and she smiled before closing them again as she murmured, ‘Lord Rokeby, I apologise for all this trouble.’
He fell to his knees beside her. ‘Thank God you have come back to me. How could I live without you?’ Leonora had just the energy to place her hand on his cheek and gently stroke the curling hair at his temples. He took her hands in consternation. ‘You’re still so cold. Do you feel warmth returning at all? May I check your feet?’ Leonora nodded and he slipped his hand under the wolfskin to cradle her feet in his warm hands. ‘Good, they seem less chilled.’
Leonora shivered with the thrill of his touch. She opened her eyes to meet his intense gaze. His words were close to a murmur, so terrible were the memories that assailed him. ‘When I first found you, your eyes had that distant glassy look I have seen too many times before. In that moment, nothing mattered but you and securing you to life.’ He dropped his head to kiss her feet, before covering them again carefully and tucking them in the skirt of his mother’s cloak with the heavy fur bedcover over the top. He sprang up to place another log on the fire. On such a warm day the room seemed almost unbearably hot, but colour was seeping back into Leonora’s skin. Her lips were no longer blue.
Mistress Plum appeared with two bowls of hot chocolate and Mrs Priddy followed her into the room. ‘Oh Nora, what have you been up to? Let me see you.’ She sat down heavily in the chair next to the sofa and leant across to take her hand. ‘Good, you’re warming up. I’m not surprised, this room is like a furnace.’ She stood up to remove her pelisse and bonnet and then turned to Lord Rokeby. ‘Well? What’s been going on, my lord?’
‘Miss Appleby was swimming in the lake when she got entangled in the branches of the petrified forest at the eastern end. That village lad, Silas Sproat, poaching no doubt, came tearing up to the Abbey, yelling. Got me from my bed. Our greatest thanks are due to him. Not many people are brave enough to demand I rouse myself from sleep at such an unconscionable hour.’ He smiled.
‘And how did you rescue her?’ Mrs Priddy had grasped both of Leonora’s hands.
‘I dived down to where the hem of her dress was entangled and cut it free.’
‘Well, thank the Lord she is safe.’ She picked up the bowl of hot chocolate and said, ‘Nora, I think you need some sustenance. Can you sit up?’
As Leonora struggled to sit, Alistair Rokeby put his arm around her back. Her old nanny handed her the hot chocolate and she sipped from the bowl. It was the first time Lord Rokeby had seen anyone but his mother wear the beautiful cream velvet and ermine cloak that now set off Leonora’s colouring. He smiled. ‘My mama’s garment becomes you well, Miss Appleby. I shall have to give it to you.’
The chocolate and the warmth had revived her and she smiled. ‘I have never worn anything so soft and luxurious.’ She pulled it closer round her face. Then she added, ‘Why not have your chocolate too, my lord? You won’t have had any breakfast and saving me from the icy lake is a rude awakening, I’m sure.’
Mrs Priddy stood up. ‘I’m far too hot by the fire.’ She went to sit by the window and settled down with her knitting. ‘I’ve nearly finished, just the last piece of scalloped edging to go.’
Lord Rokeby took her seat and gazed with some concern at Leonora. ‘Are you really feeling stronger?’ He took her hand and felt her pulse. ‘You are warmer, ’tis true. You cannot be in the army as long as I have been and not learn to read the vital signs.’
Leonora would not let his hand go. ‘I apologise for trespassing and spying on your friends and their party. And for being so reproving when really, I had no right or reason. It’s a presumptuous conceit I have that the lake is special and is mine.’ She did not add and a presumptuous conceit that you too are mine.
Lord Rokeby smiled. ‘I also must apologise for the behaviour of my friends. I was not pleased, but perhaps am indulgent of men who have been to war and seen the worst of humankind.’
‘I know. How can I ever know what you have suffered.’
‘I think you understand, though, how my music has consoled and healed me.’ They still held each other’s hands. ‘But only you have made me value the life that was snatched from death. Now I want to live that life with you.’
Leonora was still weak and her emotions close to the surface. She laid her head on his knee, and he bent his face to put his cheek on hers. Drawing strength from his warmth, she straightened up and said, ‘Do you remember my first visit here? My showing you the musical phrase you had forgotten?’
‘How could I not? The air between us vibrated with some connection I could not fathom. But I resisted. For what had I to offer any woman? A broken body and a haunted mind.’
Leonora leaned forward to touch his face. ‘But I’m not just any woman, my lord.’ Her face was serious. ‘And that forgotten melody came back to you, did it not? And the music was released again to flow on.’
‘’Tis true. Like that splintered arpeggio; you showed me where the notes belonged and how to complete the composition.’
‘So, less haunted now, my lord?’ With an anxious question in her eyes, she met his mischievous gaze.
He gave her a roguish smile. ‘Not so haunted, but mightily distracted by the thought that you are naked under that cloak.’ He looked at her, her eyes dancing, her cheeks flushed from the roaring fire. She put a finger to her lips and checked where her old nanny sat.
‘She’s fallen asleep,’ she whispered.
‘Our dear Nanny P always seems to drowse off when she’s meant to be chaperoning us. Are we really that tedious?’