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.