Chapter 29

By the time Gage and I arrived in Anderley's quarters, pushing past the servants clustered outside the door, the valet was trying to rise from his bed while Bree stood over him scolding. Apparently, he'd been unconscious when he'd been discovered in a heap just beyond the doorstep, but now he was awake and refusing to see reason. At least, according to my maid.

"I must speak with Mr. Gage," he protested, barely able to lift his head.

"Stay doon, ye stubborn man," Bree remonstrated. "He'll be here soon."

"No! I must see him now."

"What is it, Anderley?" Gage said. He knelt by the bed as Bree stepped back, his eyes searching his valet's face. "What must you tell me?"

Anderley's lip was split, and his left eye was practically swollen shut, but he managed to roll the other one toward the crowd by the door.

I stepped over to shut it, first ordering the tallest lad, "Fetch Dr. Wolcott."

He nodded, turning to run off.

"I don't need a doctor," Anderley objected.

"You'll see him anyway," I insisted, and I heard Bree inhale a relieved breath. I guessed she'd already put forth the notion and he'd resisted.

"But…"

"You'll do what Mrs. Gage says," Gage told him gently but firmly. His jaw was tight with worry and regret. "Who did this to you?"

Anderley lifted his hand to wave this question aside, flinching in pain. "It doesn't matter. I heard them talking. They were discussing their plans."

"Who?"

"The smugglers. The general crew."

Gage glanced toward the door. "Part of the staff here?"

"It doesn't matter who. I'll tell you their names later. What you need to know is that they were discussing kidnapping someone."

I jolted as if I'd been slapped. "Kidnapping?"

Anderley's one good eye lifted to mine. "Yes. They intend to force his lordship to tell them where the treasure is."

Gage turned to look over his shoulder. "Where is Father?"

"He didn't follow us," I replied.

Gage began to push to his feet, but then turned back to press a hand lightly to Anderley's shoulder. "Good work."

Anderley swallowed, jerking his head once in reply.

"Do what Mrs. Gage says." Gage paused in the doorway to repeat this command and then swept from the room.

I spared a moment's worry for my father-in-law and then pushed him from my mind, focusing my attention on Anderley. Gage would take care of his father. He trusted me to see to Anderley.

"Have you examined his wounds?" I asked Bree.

"Those he'd let me," she answered crossly, but I could sense the fear lurking beneath her irritation.

I gestured to the washstand. "Is that clean water?"

"Aye."

Anderley frowned up at me as I knelt beside the bed, but it had little affect, considering how pitiful he looked. "I can see the injuries to your face. But what about the rest of you?"

He continued to glare up at me mulishly. I had little hope of convincing him to cooperate by force. Even injured he still had several stone of muscle on me. Which left coercion as my only option.

"Bree, go and get me a beeswax candle. These tallow ones will never do."

If she suspected me of duplicity, she didn't say anything, but it was a few seconds before I heard the door open and close.

"Now, listen to me, Andrea Landi," I chided, using his Italian birth name. "You have obviously come out on the losing end of some sort of scuffle…"

"Only because there were four of them."

I struggled not to flinch at the images this evoked. "You're suffering from multiple cuts and contusions, and you may have internal injuries that are not immediately apparent. So you are going to lie still and compliant and allow me to examine you." I arched a single eyebrow. "And I will try to preserve your modesty."

His lip pursed slightly at this mocking remark.

Then I leaned closer, lowering my voice. "Because Bree cares for you. Though don't ask me why," I scoffed. "Lying to and ignoring her. Not trusting her with the truth."

Anderley flushed as if chastened.

"I know you were only following orders, but honestly! You and Mr. Gage should know better." I scowled at him. "If you hurt her again by dying because you're too stubborn to let us tend your wounds, why I'll…I'll give your body to the anatomists to carve up."

As threats went, it wasn't the most convincing. Given my history with anatomists and dissection, he must know I would never actually carry through with it. The glint in his deep brown eye confirmed this. But he did cooperate when I reached out to gently turn his head.

His hair was matted with blood from a blow above his right ear. His shoulder tendons were strained, making me suspect he'd been dragged by them to the place he'd been found. And his torso was a mass of bruises. I strongly suspected he'd broken a rib, but Dr. Wolcott would be better able to tell.

Bree returned as I was drawing the blanket back up over his abdomen, and I heard her swift indrawn breath. The bruising was a ghastly sight, but I didn't think any of the contusions signaled anything life-threatening, though of course, I couldn't be sure. Any injuries to his lower extremities I left for the physician to examine since his vital organs and the bloodstains seemed to be limited to the top half of his clothing.

"Thank you," I told Bree, turning to take the already lit candle from her. I pressed my hand gently to her upper arm as I did so, offering her a consoling smile. She seemed to steady herself in the face of my composure, so I turned back to our patient.

"Anderley, I want you to follow this light with your eyes…well, eye, without moving your head. Can you do that?"

He complied and I asked him a number of questions testing his cognition, relieved yet again to discover that he didn't appear to be suffering from any injury to his brain, though time would tell. "I look rather like a cyclops, don't I," he attempted to jest as I set the candle on the bedside table.

"Mare like a fachan," Bree retorted with a sniff.

"What's that?"

"A one-eyed Scottish monster," I replied with some amusement. "One armed and one legged as well." Clearly, Bree was not going to relent so easily.

Anderley watched Bree as she bustled about, straightening linens that didn't need straightening.

"They caught you eavesdropping, didn't they?" I asked, wishing I could offer Anderley something for his aches, though I doubted he'd take it, the obstinate man. Brackets of pain radiated from the corners of his eyes and mouth. So I decided the least I could do was try to distract him, and hopefully extract some useful information from him in the process.

Bree paused in her busy work to listen.

"Yes." He began to inhale deeply and then checked himself, stiffening in discomfort. "I should have been more careful, but I knew what they were discussing was important."

"You said some of them are members of the Roscarrock staff," I prompted.

He named a few men, most of them farm laborers or stable hands.

"What of the Grenvilles? Are any of them part of the crew?"

"More than half," he confirmed. His gaze met mine squarely. "And I've heard them mention Tamsyn Kellynack."

This was nothing more than we'd already suspected, but it was good to have it corroborated.

"Did they say when they planned to kidnap his lordship?"

"Not that I heard," he answered ruefully. "Not before I was discovered."

I patted his arm in reassurance before turning to Bree. "You'll stay with him?"

"Aye," she promised. Some of her prickliness seemed to have abated, eased by my conversation with him. She was even able to look at him without frowning, though her eyes were still clouded with concern.

"Don't let him out of your sight," I told her before spearing Anderley with my gaze. "And you! Listen to her. And follow Dr. Wolcott's orders when he arrives."

"I'll be as model a patient as Miss McEvoy was," he vowed.

I nearly snorted out loud at this, covering it with a cough. I well remembered how disagreeable she'd been while recovering from being poisoned. Though in her defense, she had nearly died.

As Anderley might have if the smugglers had taken it into their heads to kill him. The thought chilled me, and I hurried off to find Gage and his father.

The crowd outside Anderley's room had largely dispersed. But those who weren't standing in the upper corridor of the servants' quarters were now gathered in the passage between the kitchens and the dining room. A few of them scuttled away as I passed, but the bolder ones remained where they were. For good reason, because my husband and his father stood near the windows in the dining room overlooking the garden, debating what was to be done. Loudly.

"I'm not sleeping on a sofa in your bedchamber like some green lad," Lord Gage argued. "I'll not be frightened into behaving like a fool."

"Then we shall move to your chamber," Gage insisted. "All of us. It's larger anyway."

"Don't be ridiculous. Do you even hear yourself?" He crossed his arms, shaking his head. "We'll keep things the way they are, with Lembus sleeping in my dressing room."

"Lembus is hardly a deterrent," Gage practically hissed. "Can the man even shoot a pistol? Without soiling himself, that is."

My eyebrows shot skyward.

"I don't need Lembus to shoot a pistol. I have my own weapon."

"You are being unreasonable," Gage snapped as I moved toward them, lest our audience hear my every word.

"Father," I pleaded softly, hoping my use of this sobriquet would convey my distress. "Please. They beat Anderley quite severely because he uncovered this plot." I turned to Gage to reassure him. "Dr. Wolcott should still examine him, but I don't think he's in any danger."

He exhaled, his shoulders lowering a fraction.

"But that doesn't negate his sacrifice," I informed Lord Gage. "Or lessen the threat to you."

He grunted, pivoting to stare out the window at the moonlit garden. Pale moths flitted among the viburnum bordering the walk. Their white wings showed like flecks of moonlight against the black of the night. I paused to watch them, taking a moment to catch my breath, to resettle my nerves. Much had happened in the space of the last half hour, and we all needed a few seconds to adjust.

Gage was the first to speak, more steadily this time. "I think we must seriously consider leaving at first light. If Anderley can travel."

I turned to look at him. Most of the lights in the room had been extinguished, but I could still make out his strained features. "You think they still intend to go through with their plan?"

"I think we have to assume they will." He turned his head to peer over his shoulder at the doorway leading to the other rooms in the house. "Clearly, whoever is behind this is growing desperate. And I learned long ago never to trust desperate people."

The throbbing tone of his voice sent a chill up my spine. "What about Branok's killer?"

He shook his head sharply. "I'm not about to sacrifice any of our safety…" His lips flattened, as his eyes darted toward the servants' quarters, where Anderley lay bruised and battered. "Any more than I already have, for the sake of uncovering his murderer." He glanced upward. "Who likely lives under this very roof."

I nodded in understanding. It seemed we'd been on the cusp of this decision for some time. Hadn't Lord Gage and I made this very determination last night? I turned to my father-in-law, curious about his thoughts, but his expression was maddeningly inscrutable as he continued to stare out into the shadowed garden.

"But we still have to pass one more night here," Gage pronounced solemnly. "Which is why, Father…" At this Lord Gage turned to look at him.

"I do not want to take even the slightest chance they'll drag you from your bed—pistol or no." He exhaled, scraping a hand back through his hair. "If Anderley had not been injured, I would have set him to watch alongside Lembus. I would set in watch myself, but then that leaves Kiera and Emma vulnerable. You apprehend our dilemma."

"Then perhaps we should repair to the Grenvilles," Lord Gage suggested.

Frustration flickered over his son's features. "Except they are also part of this."

"That might be exactly what they want us to do," I contributed quietly.

"And Anderley can't be moved. At least not until Dr. Wolcott examines him."

"Tamsyn would never hurt me," Lord Gage insisted calmly, turning back to the window.

"You don't know that."

"No, but my instincts are telling me so."

"Your instincts? Is that what you're calling it now?" Gage sneered, his patience clearly frayed to the breaking point.

My eyes widened and cheeks flushed.

Lord Gage turned to glare at his son. "The decision is mine," he stated before striding off.

Gage unleashed a string of curses, his fists tightening as if he wished to hit something. When I withdrew half a step, he looked up at me, instantly contrite. "Apologies."

I offered him a commiserating smile. "He's frightened," I reminded him.

Knowing that, it made sense that he would want to retreat somewhere safe. Or at least somewhere he used to feel safe—long ago. Perhaps not Grenville House specifically, but with Tamsyn.

I nodded after his father. "Go. I'll wait for the doctor."

He reached for my hand, squeezing it as he pressed a kiss to my brow. Then he hurried after his father.

I sidled over to the window, lifting my hand to the worn and faded frame, suddenly anxious to be anywhere but inside these walls. Was that what Lord Gage had been feeling? Was that why he'd so stubbornly refused to listen to reason? The sensation of the house pressing down on me, of foreboding trembling beneath my breastbone, was almost enough to make me run. But I'd lived with this feeling—or something akin to it—for nearly three years during my marriage to Sir Anthony, never knowing when the next blow would fall, but certain it would eventually come. I told myself I could tolerate one night.

The sound of raised voices drew my attention toward the parlor and the entry hall beyond, and I moved to see if it was Dr. Wolcott. He met me in the doorway, his black medical bag in hand.

"Thank you for coming so quickly," I said before becoming momentarily distracted by the sight of his wife Anne, still standing in the entry hall. I was surprised she had come with him, but less surprised when Mery stepped forward, speaking with her in a hushed voice. Their hands gestured broadly, but I couldn't hear what they said.

Dr. Wolcott followed the direction of my gaze before prodding me insistently. "The patient?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, falling in step with him. "My husband's valet, Mr. Anderley. He's been beaten rather terribly, though I don't believe any of the injuries are life-threatening. However, I would prefer that you examine him."

He paused to look at me just before entering the kitchens. "Of course." A thousand questions seemed to flicker through his pale eyes, but having spent numerous hours last night standing over a corpse with him, I'd become good enough at reading him now to recognize what was chief among them.

"Yes, I trust you. Or else I wouldn't have sent for you."

He bowed his head in mutual regard. "I will do everything I can," he vowed before disappearing into the servants' quarters.

I spared a moment to wonder whether he normally treated the staff. After all, in places like London and larger towns, physicians were often reserved for the gentry and aristocracy, while surgeons and apothecaries saw to the rest of the population. However, in a place as remote as this stretch of Cornwall, I wondered if such distinctions were so strictly maintained. Either way, I was grateful to Dr. Wolcott for examining Anderley.

I'd not received a response from Anne about the note I'd asked Bree to deliver to her earlier that day, so I went in search of her. Admittedly, I was also curious what she and Mery had been discussing so intently. But I couldn't find either of them. They weren't in the entry hall, the parlor, the library, or the drawing room where Amelia, Joan, and Dolly were gathered. I considered searching the rooms I'd yet to explore, but an infant's wail from above made me turn my steps toward the stairs.

I'd nursed her earlier than usual that evening, but had hoped she'd still sleep through much of the night. That was apparently not the case.

"I was just aboot to send for ye," Mrs. Mackay told me as she bounced Emma lightly in her arms. "I think the wee lass is enterin' another spurt o' growth."

This was a wearying thought, but then I reminded myself it would not last long. A few weeks at most. And after, Emma might sleep through the entire night in truth.

I swiftly informed Mrs. Mackay of Anderley's injuries as I settled Emma. The nurse uttered multiple exclamations of outrage. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

"Will you look in on Bree and see if she needs anything? She'll be tending to him overnight."

"Aye," she readily agreed. "And I'll lock the nursery door when ye go, just to be sure. We dinna want any o' us taken by surprise."

I stared after her as she shut the door and then down at my daughter. Should we be concerned they might turn their kidnapping plans toward another of us? I supposed it wasn't outside the realm of possibility.

After all, men like my husband and his father might not flinch at threats made to themselves, but if I or Emma were ever placed in danger, I knew they would do just about anything to protect us. The surest way to ensure their compliance was through us.

This thought sent another tremor of foreboding through my heart, one Emma sensed, for she began to fuss. I hushed her and then forced myself to take several deep, even breaths. First, I would feed her, then I could think of what to do next.

Emma ate quickly, and I had just stood up to cross the room toward the door as I burped her, intending to lock it in precaution, when the door suddenly burst open. I backed up several steps, clasping my daughter close to my chest as I stared wide-eyed at the intruder.

A lock of blue-black hair fell over Mery's forehead, covering part of his eyes, but what I could see reflected in them was frantic and almost wild. "I-I'm sorry to barge in like this, but I need ye to come with me. Now."

When I merely stood there blinking at him, pressed back against the cradle with my body turned slightly away to shield Emma from his sight, he took a step closer.

"Please, I know this sounds strange, but ye must come with me. Before it's too late." He darted a glance over his shoulder. "They'll be here soon."

"Who?" I gasped, beginning to edge to the side, but Mery's gaze followed me. "We know about the kidnapping plot against Lord Gage," I warned, wishing I'd disturbed Emma's feeding and locked the door earlier when I could. Though how long would that have deterred a man like Mery? As owner of this house, he likely possessed a set of keys to every door. No, I should have grabbed my reticule with my percussion pistol tucked inside instead. "So his lordship and my husband are watching," I bluffed. "They'll be here any moment."

"Nay, they won't. They're in the garden." He crossed toward me in three angry strides. This close, I could see that his jaw was shadowed with dark stubble. I fumbled around on the top of the clothespress behind me, searching with my free hand for something I might use as a weapon. I came away with a hairbrush, which I brandished before me. He batted it aside.

"Listen to me!" he begged. "They're comin' for her."

"For her?" I repeated inanely, my gaze dropping to my daughter. Horror flooded me. "For Emma?"