Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Please wake up? Oh...can you hear me? Whatever am I to do?" Johanna exclaimed, as now she looked around her, desperate for help.

The man was now lying back amid the bluebells, his eyes closed in a faint. He was still breathing, but Johanna was unable to revive him, despite batting his cheek with her palm and calling out to him in a loud voice.

"Oh, it's no use. I'll have to go for help," she said to herself, though she was too far from Wilton Grange to return home and summon assistance.

But a sudden thought now occurred to her. Mr. Wilson, the gardener at Wilton Grange, lived on the edge of the wood in a small cottage belonging to her father's estate. He had a horse and trap, used for taking garden cuttings away to be burned, and if he was now at home, perhaps he could help her get the stranger home.

"I'll be as quick as I can," Johanna said, though the stranger made no reply, and now she hurried off through the trees in the direction of the gardener's cottage.

Pegasus was tethered at the entrance to the trees, and he looked at Johanna with bemusement as she hurried past.

"I'll be back soon, I promise," she called out, and now she followed the path across a meadow by the river, where the whitewashed cottage belonging to Mr. Wilson stood by a gate leading onto her father's land.

It was a pretty dwelling, with roses growing around the door and smoke coming from the chimney. The trap was pulled up outside, and the gardener's horse was tethered with a nose bag by the gate—an indicator Mr. Wilson was at home.

"Miss Follett? I wasn't expecting to see you until tomorrow," Mr. Wilson said, answering the door a moment later.

"Oh, thank goodness you're in. You've got to help me," Johanna exclaimed, and now she explained about the stranger in the woods and how they had to take him to Wilton Grange immediately.

"Oh...but I was just getting the fire going to boil a kettle for some tea," the gardener replied, furrowing his brow.

"Please, Mr. Wilson—he's unconscious. I didn't know what else to do," Johanna begged, and the gardener sighed.

Mr. Wilson had a reputation locally as a gruff and insensitive man who preferred the company of flowers to people. But he and Johanna had always got on well, and now he agreed to help her, following her back into the woods to the place where the stranger was still lying on the carpet of bluebells.

"Strange...I recognize him from somewhere. But I couldn't tell you—he's someone important by the looks of him," the gardener said as Johanna stooped down and attempted to rouse the stranger once again.

"Please...won't you wake up?" she said loudly, but the man remained in a state of unconsciousness, and it took both her and Mr. Wilson to lift him.

The gardener took most of the strain, and with some difficulty, the man was carried along the path.

"And what about his horse?" Mr. Wilson asked.

"I didn't see where it went—he said it bolted because of a deer. His horse ran past me...they usually find their own way home, though, don't they?" Johanna replied.

Pegasus was still waiting patiently at the entrance to the trees, and he watched curiously as Johanna and Mr. Wilson hauled the stranger along. Johanna was relieved when they reached the cottage and could lie him down on the grass. The gardener went to ready the horse and trap, and Johanna took the opportunity to examine the stranger further. She did not recognize him, but having been away from the district for so long, it was hardly surprising. Now, she noticed further details about him—his gold cufflinks, the pearl buttons on his shirt, and his belt with its metal clasp displaying what appeared to be a regimental insignia.

Perhaps he's an officer in the king's militia, Johanna thought to herself, though there was no other sign of a military connection.

But his clothes were of the highest quality, and he was well-groomed and presentable. He reminded Johanna of those men she had met on her travels around Europe—English aristocrats on their grand tour of the continent. Perhaps this man, too, had aristocratic connections.

But I'd know him if he did. Wouldn't I? Johanna thought to herself, for she knew everyone in the district of a certain rank and class—even after a year of being away.

Her thoughts now returned to the Parker sisters—what were they thinking? What had they assumed? There had been nothing compromising about the situation, and to any other observer, the facts would have been plain. But Johanna could not help but wonder what the two sisters would make of what they had seen, and who they would tell…

"Right, let's get him into the trap. It's a good thing he's not heavy," Mr. Wilson said, appearing around the side of the cottage and shaking his head as he looked down at the still-unconscious stranger.

Somehow, they managed to get the man up, and with his head lolling to the side, they laid him down on the trap.

"I'll fetch Pegasus," Johanna said, and she hurried back across the meadow to untether the horse, who gave her a disapproving look as she approached—suggesting, it seemed, she had forgotten about him.

"You ride on the board, Miss Follett. I'll lead," Mr. Wilson said. He tied her horse's reins to the back of the cart, and Johanna did as he said, riding on the board, and keeping an eye on the unconscious stranger lying on the trap.

It was not long before they came to the gates of Wilton Grange, and Johanna now wondered what to do next. Her mother was expecting her back for dinner—not in the company of an unconscious invalid with a broken arm.

"Thank you, Mr. Wilson. You've been very kind. I'll be sure to tell...well, whoever he is, just what you did. When he wakes up, at least," Johanna said.

"Let's hope he does," the gardener said, shaking his head.

"Oh, but if I can press on your kindness a second time, Mr. Wilson—would you call on Doctor Arnold on your way home. Tell him to come as a matter of urgency," Johanna said.

Mr. Wilson smiled

"I'll have to pass that way to get back to the cottage," Mr. Wilson said, and Johanna gave him a few pennies for his trouble, and promised to tell him all about the garden at the Villa d'Este the following day.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Wilson. Oh...look, here's Andrew. Andrew...will you ask one of the footmen to come and help," Johanna said as the groom appeared from the stables to help with Pegasus.

He looked surprised at the sight of the unconscious man lying in the back of the trap but did not question Johanna, and with a nod, he hurried off to fetch help, returning a few moments later with one of the footmen. The stranger was lifted off the trap and carried into the house. Johanna followed, and as they were just about to take the man upstairs, Johanna's mother appeared from the drawing room. At the sight before her, she screamed, throwing her hands up in the air in astonishment.

"Johanna, what's all this?" she exclaimed, staring at the unconscious man in horror.

Johanna gave a brief account of the events as they had occurred, and her mother—who was not the sort of woman who enjoyed excitement or things out of the ordinary—shook her head in disbelief.

"Oh...the poor man. Put him in the red room—your aunt's in the green room," she said.

Johanna now directed the groom and footman upstairs to the landing. There, they made their way along a corridor into the oldest part of the house, where the ceilings were low and the walls paneled. The door of the red room was unlocked, and once inside, they were able to lay the stranger on the bed.

"Will you...take his boots off, and cover him over," Johanna said, turning away as the footman removed the man's clothes and covered him over with a blanket.

"He's decent now, Miss Follett," the groom said, and Johanna turned to find the stranger covered over, his head propped up on a cushion.

"Thank you, both," she said, and the groom and footman both mopped their brows and nodded.

"I'll go and see to Pegasus, Miss Follett," Andrew said, and the two men now left the room, leaving Johanna and the unconscious man alone.

I suppose there's nothing improper about it—he's hardly able to act improperly, Johanna thought to herself.

But at that moment, the bedroom door opened, and Johanna's mother appeared

"Oh...what are we to do with him? I don't...I'm sure I've seen him before, but with his head lolled to the side like that, it's hard to tell. And you say you found him in the woods where the bluebells grow?" she asked, and Johanna nodded.

"That's right—all on his own, lying on his back. He's broken his arm," Johanna said.

Her mother tutted.

"The poor thing. Did you send for the doctor?" she asked, and Johanna nodded.

"Mr. Wilson's going to call on him on his way back to the cottage. He'll be here soon," she said, and her mother nodded.

"Then come downstairs and wait. I don't like you being here alone with him. You can come up with Mary when the doctor arrives," Johanna's mother said.

Mary was one of the maids. Johanna would have liked to have stayed, but her mother was adamant as to the impropriety of her being alone with the stranger—despite the man being unconscious,

They went downstairs to wait for the arrival of the physician, but before leaving the man's side, Johanna tucked the sheet around him, her hand brushing against his face as she did so. For a moment, she thought he was stirring, but his eyes remained closed, and once again, Johanna could not help but notice just how handsome he was.

"He can stay here until he's better—can't he, Mother?" she asked, and her mother nodded.

"I'm sure your father wouldn't send an injured man out onto the street. But I'm sure he has a place to call home. As I say, I'm sure I recognize him. I just can't think from where," she said, and now Johanna followed her mother out of the room, curious to know more about the stranger—who he was and where he had come from.

***

Edmund blinked, opening his eyes, then closing them again. It was bright—as though a lantern was being shone in his face—and his head was aching. There was a pain in his arm—a sharp, blinding pain, and as he tried to move, he realized his whole body ached, too. He let out a groan, opening his eyes again and squinting. The bright light was really just the sunlight coming through the window, and now he realized he was lying on a bed in an unfamiliar room. It was comfortably furnished, the walls painted red, matching the curtains at the window.

Where am I? Edmund wondered to himself, trying to think of the last thing that had happened to him.

He remembered falling from the horse, and there had been a woman, too—a pretty young woman who had come in answer to his calls for help. She had put a sling on his arm, and then…

I must've fainted, Edmund thought to himself, though still, he could not imagine where he was or what had happened next—it must have been something to do with the young woman who had come to his rescue.

But surely, she could not have carried him herself, he reasoned…

He was about to call out, hoping someone would hear him, when footsteps outside the door announced the arrival of what Edmund hoped would be a solving of the mystery. The door now opened, and two people entered the room—there was the woman who had come to his aid in the woods and a maid, both of whom looked relieved to see him awake.

"Shall I tell Her Ladyship he's awake?" the maid said, but the woman shook her head.

"No, Mary—not yet. We're not supposed to be up here until the doctor arrives. You heard what mother said. Oh, but you're awake. How pleased I am," the woman said, hurrying to the bedside with a smile on her face.

She was very pretty, with long black hair and bright blue eyes. Her smile lit up her face, and Edmund wondered why he had never met her before. It was obvious he was in one of the grand houses of the district—comfortably furnished and with maids.

"I...I'm sorry. I've put you through a lot of trouble," Edmund said, but the woman shook her head.

"Nonsense. I was glad to help. You fainted when I tried to help you up. I had to get Mr. Wilson, our gardener, to bring you back in his trap," the woman said.

Edmund stared at her in disbelief. "You mean I've been unconscious for several hours?"

She nodded.

"It's nearly eight o'clock, and it was four o'clock when we brought you back in the trap. I'd gone out riding, you see. But it was just by chance I was walking in the woods. They're so beautiful at this time of year. I've been away, and...oh, but I'm talking out of turn. Is your arm sore? What about your head?" she asked, and Edmund tried once again to move, even as his body resisted.

"Everything's sore," he admitted, and the woman patted his hand.

"The doctor won't be long," she said, smiling down at him.

Edmund was impressed. Not only was she very pretty, but she exuded an air of calm confidence. It had been the same in the woods. The woman had taken charge—fashioning a sling and ensuring Edmund was comfortable. The fact of his having fainted had clearly not alarmed her, and she had taken care of him to the point of bringing him home and summoning the doctor. A sudden feeling of guilt came over him, and he blushed, realizing the risk the woman had taken in doing all this for a stranger.

"I'm sorry if you felt I...compromised you," he said, and the woman shook her head.

"Not at all. It's not your fault you horse bolted, is it?" she replied, and Edmund smiled.

"No...but for the two of us to be alone in the woods together...if someone were to discover...well, scandals can so easily emerge," he said.

The woman looked suddenly uncomfortable.

"Well...there was someone, two people, in fact. Mr. Wilson, the gardener, couldn't possibly think improperly of what occurred. And nothing did occur, but we were observed together by...the Parker sisters," she replied.

Edmund groaned. He was acquainted with the Parker sisters—Hortensia and Mildred—at least from afar. They were gossips, local busybodies who made it their business to know other people's business.

"But they can't possibly have thought anything improper was occurring. You were helping me. I had a broken arm, for goodness' sake," he replied.

Again, the woman looked uncomfortable.

"Yes, but when you were about to faint, I had my arms around you. I was just holding you up, and you were clinging to me, and…" she said, her words now trailing off as Edmund shook his head.

"Oh dear," he replied, fearing the damage had already been done.

It was a fact of his rank and class—the merest hint of impropriety could be seized on by those with their own agendas. How easy it was for a reputation to be ruined, and how difficult for it to be regained. Should it be spread that the two of them had been alone in the woods together, and if the Parker sisters made it their business to attach scandal to the facts.

"I'm sure it'll be all right," the woman said, but Edmund now felt honor bound to make amends.

"No...really...I must insist. I wonder...we can't allow rumors to spread," he said, but the woman only smiled and shook her head.

"Wouldn't it be pertinent to introduce ourselves to one another before we try to solve our dilemma? There's surely more scandal in a nameless encounter than a familial one," the woman said, and Edmund nodded—she was right, they still did not even know one another's names…

"Forgive me. You're right. I don't even know how to address you properly. For all I know, I could be in the company of a royal princess," he said, and the woman blushed.

"Not quite a royal princess, sir. My name's Johanna—the Honorable Johanna Follett, and I'm very pleased to meet you," the woman said, holding out her hand to Edmund, who took it with the sudden realization of who he was talking to.

"Johanna? And is this Wilton Grange?" he asked, and Johanna looked surprised.

"It is, yes. Do you know it?" she asked, sounding puzzled, and Edmund laughed and shook his head.

He should have realized sooner—the likeness was now plain to see. This was Johanna Follett, the sister of Edmund's friend, Roger. She had been away traveling on the continent when Edmund had inherited his father's title, but he knew all about her from the tales her brother had told him of his sister's adventures.

"Forgive me. I know your brother well. I'm Edmund—Edmund Banfield, the Earl of Beaumont," he said, and a puzzled look came over Johanna's face.

"But I thought the Earl...oh, you mean you're…" she began, and Edmund nodded.

"My father died eight months ago. I inherited the title and estate, but I've been away for many years—first at school, then at Oxford, and most recently serving with the king's militia," he said.

As children, neither of them would have been aware of one another, and it was only recently Edmund had struck up a friendship with Johanna's brother, Roger. It was a remarkable coincidence, but a happy one, and now Edmund knew he had to do something to make amends for her kindness—and for the compromise she had made to herself in helping him, knowing the Parker sisters were bound to spread the rumor of their being compromised. Johanna smiled at him.

"Roger mentioned you in several of his letters—but I didn't know what you looked like, of course," she said, and Edmund smiled back at her.

"You do now," he said, and Johanna blushed.

"I'll have to tell Roger—he'll be surprised," Johanna said, and now it was Edmund's turn to blush.

He did not want his friend to think he had been foolish enough to have an accident, and he certainly did not want Roger to think anything improper had occurred between him and Johanna. It had not, but Edmund knew how easily the truth could be turned into gossip.

"Wait a moment...I really think…" he began, but at that moment, the bedroom door opened, and an older woman—who Edmund recognized as Roger's mother—entered the room, followed by Doctor Arnold.

Johanna rose to her feet, looking embarrassed, even as her mother passed no comment on the scene. Doctor Arnold looked at Edmund with surprise.

"My lord, I didn't realize it was you lying here at Wilton Grange," he said.

Johanna's mother gave a cry of exclamation and threw her hands up in the air.

"Oh, forgive me, my lord—I should've recognized you. But we were all in a fluster earlier, and I didn't look at you properly. A thousand apologies," she said, moving Johanna to one side to allow Doctor Arnold to make a proper inspection of his patient.

"Are you in a lot of pain, my lord?" the doctor asked as he began his examination.

"I'd be in a lot more if it wasn't for Miss Follett here," he said, glancing at Johanna, who blushed.

Doctor Arnold nodded, examining the sling fashioned from Johanna's shawl. Edmund wondered what he was thinking. Was he drawing the same conclusions others might jump to—a "chance" encounter in the woods, a shawl removed, the couple alone as they awaited help...It would only take a word from the Parker sisters to give rise to further rumors.

"You've done a fine job here, Miss Follett. You've saved His Lordship from considerable discomfort," the doctor said, and Johanna smiled.

"I just happened to be in the right place at the right time, I suppose," she said.

The doctor made no reply, and now he examined the bruises on Edmund's arm, nodding as he did so. The doctor set the bone and wrapped it up, eliciting a groan from Edmund.

"Plenty of rest, I suppose," Johanna's mother said, and the doctor nodded.

"Yes, that's right—bed rest, and keep the arm in the sling to allow it to heal," he said.

"But I can't impose on these good people any longer. They've already done so much for me," Edmund said.

A sudden thought now occurred to him—his mother would have arrived at Beaumont Abbey. She would be wondering where he was, as would the servants. What if a search party had been sent out?

"You can't leave like this. It's not just your arm—you had a very nasty bump to the head. You were unconscious," Johanna said, even as Edmund was struggling to get up.

"But I...my mother was arriving this afternoon from London," he said, but Johanna shook her head.

"We'll send word to Beaumont Abbey. She can visit you here if she wishes," she said, and Edmund lay back with a sigh and nodded.

Perhaps she was right, But another thought now crossed his mind—a remarkable thought, but one that might just be the saving grace he required. Should the Parker sisters see to it the rumor of what they believed they had seen be spread, Johanna would be compromised. Any chance of her marrying respectably would be gone, and her family's reputation, too, would be ruined. There was only one thing for it. He would have to ask for Johanna's hand in marriage. Any question as to the two of them having been compromised by their unexpected encounter would be quashed if news of a betrothal was spread. Perhaps there would be some question as to why the two of them had been alone in the woods together, but at least there would be a happy ending. Of all the women Edmund had encountered since his arrival in the district, Johanna was by far the prettiest, and the nicest, and to marry her would also appease his mother, who was coming to the countryside to make arrangements on his behalf.

"It's very kind of you," Edmund said, and Johanna placed her hand on his and smiled.

"I'll go and find Roger—he'll be so pleased to see you," she said, and before Edmund could protest—or make any suggestion as to how their dilemma might be solve—she had left the room, followed by the maid.

Doctor Arnold now finished packing up his medical bag, promising to look in on his patient in the coming days.

"Stay in bed, my lord—I'm sure it's no hardship to enjoy the hospitality of Wilton Grange for a few days," he said, and Edmund nodded.

"You'll be our honored guest, my lord," Johanna's mother said, and ushering the doctor from the room, she closed the door behind her, leaving Edmund alone.

Sighing, Edmund closed his eyes, thinking again about the strange thought that had occurred to him—to make a proposal to Johanna in light of what had happened that day in the woods. Edmund had known just what Doctor Arnold was thinking, and he knew what others would think, too, once the Parker sisters began to spread their rumors—far better to put pay to a scandal than to allow them to smolder and gain heat. It made Edmund smile to think what his mother would say—she would certainly be surprised.

And yet, I wouldn't really mean it, would I? We barely know one another. And she might simply refuse me, Edmund thought to himself, mulling the thought over in his mind and wondering if it was not simply the result of the concussion.

He was still trying to convince himself one way or another when the bedroom door opened, and Roger—his friend, and Johanna's brother—appeared, followed by Johanna, shaking his head and laughing as he bounded over to the bed.

"Well, well, well. What a surprise this is. What on earth were you doing?" he exclaimed, rolling his eyes as he sat down on the side of the bed.

"I fell off my horse. That's all. Don't make fun of me, Roger. It could happen to any of us," Edmund said, and his friend smiled.

"All right, I'm sorry. But you've got to admit it's rather amusing—and rescued by my sister," he said, glancing at Johanna, who had followed him into the bedroom.

Edmund blushed, glancing at Johanna, who smiled back at him.

"And why shouldn't your sister have rescued me? I can only thank her for what she did," Edmund said.

Roger glanced up at his sister and shook his head.

"But how fortuitous you should both find yourselves in the woods at the same time," he said.

Edmund could hear the speculation in his voice—the tacit assumption of something untoward. It had been the same with Doctor Arnold, and it would be the same with so many others, too. It would take only one word from the Parker sisters, and Roger would jump to conclusions—perhaps even assuming a secret correspondence between Edmund and his sister, or a previous rendezvous.

"And what do you mean by that, Roger?" Johanna interrupted.

Her brother shook his head.

"I don't mean anything by it, Sister. I'm just pointing out the coincidence, that's all. I should've insisted on accompanying you," Roger said.

Edmund felt he should say something. He did not want any sense of impropriety to damage his friendship with Roger—or the relationship between brother and sister.

"There was really nothing to it. But I'm so very grateful to Johanna for what she did," Edmund said, and Roger nodded.

"Well...we're glad to see you in one piece, my friend. And you must stay for as long as you need to. Do you understand?" he said, and Edmund nodded.

"It's very kind of you," he replied as the door opened and the maid entered the room, curtseying as she did so.

"Forgive me, sir, but your mother's asking for you," she said, and Roger rolled his eyes.

"Very well. I'll leave the two of you alone. Well...not quite alone," he said, nodding to the maid who now sat down in the corner of the room as Johanna pulled a chair up to the bedside.

When Roger had gone, Edmund sighed and shook his head. He wanted to apologize to Johanna and make amends for his actions—for the difficulties he had undoubtedly caused her.

"Johanna...Miss Follett...I fear I've caused a terrible inconvenience for you," he said, but Johanna shook her head.

"Not at all, no. But it's getting late now. You need to rest. Why don't you try to sleep? We can talk more in the morning," she said, but Edmund shook his head.

He wanted to talk now. He wanted her to know how sorry he was if he had done anything to compromise her, and now his mind was made up. He would ask her to marry him. It sounded ridiculous when put so bluntly, but in doing so, he would surely be helping her, too. If the inevitable twisting of the facts occurred and were widely reported, conclusions would be jumped to, and it would be Johanna's reputation on the line—not his. A man could get away with far more than a woman. But even the slightest hint of compromise would damage Johanna's reputation beyond repair, and Edmund was determined for that not to happen.

As for himself, the advantage was clear—his mother would have no grounds for pursuing her own matchmaking agenda, before it had even begun. But more so than that, Edmund had felt an immediate attraction toward Johanna—she was pretty and possessed of a strong will and determination, one Edmund could not help but admire. In asking to marry her, he would be pursuing a match he might well have pursued in a more conventional sense, had circumstances been allowed. But that spark of attraction was enough for a moment, and now he insisted on saying his piece.

"Please...can't we talk now? Must you leave?" he asked, and Johanna shook her head.

"No...it's been a long day. I only arrived home from my travels this morning. I've been in Europe with my aunt. I rode out to remind myself of home, but...well, this happened. It feels as though I've already been back an age, but it's less than a day. But I can stay a while, I suppose," she said.

"Then, please—tell me some of your stories. You must've seen so much on your travels," Edmund said, for he was genuinely fascinated by the idea of travel and adventure as she described and wanted to know more about her before asking the question now foremost on his mind.

Johanna smiled, and it seemed she was only too pleased to tell Edmund of the places she had been and things she had seen. For the next hour or so, she told of him of vast piazzas, sprawling palaces, magnificent churches, lush gardens, ancient ruins, and the warmth of the European sun. Her descriptions were vivid, and Edmund could imagine himself a part of it, caught up in the romantic dream of those far-off destinations.

"I'd happily leave tomorrow if I could. My aunt would say the same, but I doubt my mother would allow it. She wants me to go to London for the Season, and then...well, I suppose she wants me to find a husband," Johanna said, shaking her head sadly.

"You don't...want to get married?" Edmund ventured, suddenly fearing his plan to ask for her hand was a foolish one.

But to his relief, Johanna shook her head.

"I'm not certain. But whatever happens, I want it to be on my own terms, and not just to some man my mother deigns to introduce me to. She means well, of course. But I simply don't want the same as she believes is best for me," Johanna said.

Edmund nodded. It must be hard for Johanna—returning from such freedom to the constraints of English society. He wanted to help her—just as she had helped him.

"I wonder...I might be able to help," he said, and Johanna looked at him in surprise.

"Help? But what do you mean?" she asked.

"Well...when Doctor Arnold was here earlier, I got the distinct impression he was judging the situation we found ourselves in unfavorably. It was the same with your brother. He didn't say as much, but I could tell what he was thinking. And if those Parker sisters start spreading rumors, your reputation will lie in tatters," Edmund said.

Johanna looked at him curiously.

"I don't quite understand," she said, and Edmund blushed.

"Well...I mean...the fact of our having been alone together, how it might be construed. I know nothing improper happened. You know it, too. But you said yourself what you thought it looked like," he said.

Johanna raised her eyebrows, but it seemed she understood what he was saying.

"Yes...but surely no one can think that about us, can they? I was helping you. You'd hardly break your arm just to allow for an excuse for the two of us to have a secret meeting in the woods," she said, laughing as though the thought amused her.

"I know, but that's how it'll be seen—that's how the doctor and your brother viewed it, and that's what the Parker sisters are going to say, too. But I have an idea," he said, and Johanna nodded.

"Yes...what is it?" she asked, and Edmund now took a deep breath.

"We get married," he replied, and Johanna's eyes grew wide with astonishment.