Chapter Thirteen

The southern shores of Kent

"M anson, do you have a reliable messenger that can take this missive to the Romney estate in Folkestone, ahead of our arrival?" Sin asked. "Their estate is Graceview Manor, and it's only a few miles inland. We'll make our way there once we dock but will be slower because of Robinson's condition. I don't want to surprise Romney…not totally," he added said, handing Manson a sealed sheet of vellum. No matter how he handled this, there was no way to avoid intruding on his friends during what should be a private time.

Manson turned to Wright. "Captain, we have a loyal crew, but I can't guarantee—"

"It's coded and sealed," Sin interrupted, his tone harsher than he'd intended. He prayed silently that the adage that "first children arrive late" held some truth. While he hated to wish any delays on Romney and his wife welcoming their first child, selfishly, he needed Bethany's extraordinary skills to keep Robinson alive.

The man's fever had worsened in the few hours it took to sail from the Isle of Wight to the shores of Kent. Robinson had endured hell while doing his duty, losing all his men in the bargain. If they could not save him, at the very least they could do their damnedest to keep him alive long enough for Sin to bring Lizzie to see him one last time. He couldn't bear the thought of telling her they had lost her brother.

"If we are double-crossed by someone in our crew, you know what happens," Wright said, his words nudging Sin back into the conversation going on around him. "They'll end up on a small and intimate island."

Manson nodded. "I'll send Rodgers. He knows the area and can rent a horse as soon as we dock."

"Good. We will be a few hours behind. Hopefully, it will give them enough time to prepare for our arrival," Sin said.

"Understood, Lord Sinclair. I will see it done." Manson left the deck and retrieved Rodgers.

The brigantine docked with little fanfare, and Manson was left to manage a short leave for the crew. Sin and Wright quickly located transportation. They secured a decent carriage and driver to convey Robinson comfortably, and two good horses for themselves.

Folkestone had much more to offer than Sin had anticipated. He had expected the coastal community to have adequate resources as the home of an influential peer of the realm, but was pleasantly surprised at its much larger presence. Folkestone was a bustling town, replete with merchant ships and fishing boats, as well as a popular seaside resort. He immediately understood the attractiveness of the area to the Romneys, and would remember its amenities as a place he might like to visit with Lizzie. Directly across the English Channel, one could even see the cliffs of Dover.

Sin and Wright rode as outriders for the carriage, unwilling to take any chances should highwaymen be about.

As Sin glanced over at Robinson stretched out on the carriage seat, worry gripped him. They had covered him with blankets to keep him warm, but he had been weakened by his week in captivity in a dank, cold cave. He'd also lost a substantial amount of blood from his wounds, and his complexion was pallid, his body consumed by fever. Each labored breath was a reminder of Sin's vow to ensure the man's survival and reunite him safely with his sister.

He was banking on Bethany's skills in healing to aid their cause, having witnessed her abilities firsthand in America, when she saved the life of a wounded Romney. He was left blind and forsaken amidst a heap of presumed British casualties, but his desperate cries were heard by Bethany's dog, Dandie, who, in her way, demanded they rescue him.

"How do you think he's doing?" Wright asked from the other side of the carriage.

"I hope he's not getting any worse," Sin replied. "Your ship's doctor gave him laudanum to manage his pain, and cleaned, stitched, and bandaged the wounds. But the fever is coming from somewhere. Fortune was on our side when we rescued him. The toughest part is yet to come…keeping him alive." As soon as they made it to Romney's, he would send a dispatch to Wellington to let him know the success of the operation. With any luck, they would soon be able to tell the duke a more hopeful account of Robinson's health.

As they continued their journey, a gentle breeze carried a floral waft, blended with the tang of the sea. Sin thought he could detect a hint of jasmine and roses. It took him back to the walk he had taken with Lizzie the day they went on a picnic, shortly before he left. The look on her face when he'd told her he would return in two weeks made him think she still had little confidence in a future together. Peter's family, curse them, had hurt her deeply, scorning the marriage of their son to the daughter of a vicar. He could not understand their contempt on any level, especially considering Lizzie's maternal grandfather was an earl. On top of that, as a widow in America, Lizzie found herself alone and adrift, with little to no support from Boston society.

Sin would never forsake her. Never abandon her. Now he had to convince Lizzie of that. He had never wavered from his determination to work under Wellington. And now he would apply that same determination to winning Lizzie's heart.

My God, I love her.

With illuminating clarity, he realized he'd been in love with her since the first moment he stumbled into her cottage and gazed upon her angelic face. Why did I not tell her? His declaration would be the first words from his lips the next time he saw her.

Thirty minutes later, they arrived at Graceview. Crushed oyster shells provided a firmer surface for the carriage and the horses, the crunching sounds heralding their arrival as they made their way along the main driveway toward the manse. Lights illuminated the white, four-storied home made of limestone, with large white columns supporting a covered piazza that extended across the front of the home. Potted plants, hanging baskets, and lanterns offered an additional welcoming warmth. Sin smiled as he beheld several rocking chairs, which had been popular in America. No doubt due to Bethany's touch.

It appeared their luck was continuing, as Sin spotted Lady Bethany and Romney standing on the front steps. Her dog Dandie stood calmly beside his mistress. "That bodes well for Robinson," Sin commented. Thank goodness!

"Wright, Sinclair, welcome," Romney said as they approached.

Sin and Wright dismounted, and two grooms stepped forward to take their horses. The carriage came to a stop in the curve of the driveway in front of the house.

"We asked your man Rodgers to stay, in case you needed him for anything further," Bethany said. "He is in the kitchen taking a meal. Our cook insisted. But we let him know you had arrived. Ah, there he is now."

They turned to see Rodgers approach from the side of the house. Sin and Wright both nodded a greeting.

"Let us help with Robinson," Romney said as he signaled two footmen who carried what looked like a stretcher. "My clever wife suggested we use a door and wrap it in a thick blanket with pillows."

The footmen carefully slid the makeshift stretcher into the carriage next to Robinson's unconscious form. Then Sin and Romney climbed onto the wagon and carefully, doing their best not to jostle the wounded man, slid him onto it.

They slid the stretcher out of the carriage and into the care of the two footmen, who slowly made their way up the steps into the house.

"We've prepared a guest room on the first floor—to make it easier for Bethany, who will be tending Robinson," Romney said as they entered the house. "And Dr. Fox is also on his way. He has been visiting Bethany daily."

"We apologize for the intrusion," Wright said. "But Lady Romney's skills can only help—if she feels up to the challenge. We realize this isn't the best time for her. But by the time we were able to rescue him, he'd been held for at least a week, and it looked like he received some level of daily torture. We haven't been able to speak much with him. The ship doc did his best, but he only cuts, cleans, and stitches."

"I thank you for your faith in me," Bethany said.

"You will rest, my dear, should it be required," Romney said to his wife. "You promised."

"I promise, husband." She smiled and waved, then walked toward the room housing Robinson with a footman by her side.

"Has Robinson been able to convey what happened to him?" Romney asked as he ushered them into the library. Dandie was on his heels and settled next to her master.

"He's communicated very little," Sin said, sitting across the desk from Romney. "His wounds and fever have left him in a near stupor."

"And the fever got worse during our journey here," Wright added from the chair next to Sin.

"I have heard rumors about a smuggling ring being led by Blackwood," Romney said. "While I have no direct proof, rumors suggest several other lords, although I have heard no names, have similarly gotten over their heads in debt and are providing their support—much of it in the form of information on shipments of munitions and guns being returned from France to England."

"Can you pen a report to Wellington to update the general on the situation?" Sin asked.

"I will, but at this point, it has only been chatter and speculation. I have no names except that of Blackwood," Romney said.

Sin's unease deepened at the repeated mention of Blackwood's name. Despite his prior request for a report on the man before departing London, nothing had prepared him for the staggering magnitude of Blackwood's possible criminal activities. He penned three missives—one to Wellington to go along with Romney's. In it, he described the rescue of Robinson, including the cave and its location. He also penned one to his sister and brother-in-law, asking them to escort Lizzie and Lady Beadle to Romney's estate. And finally, he penned one to Lizzie and Lady Beadle, informing them that he had rescued Robinson and brought him here. He decided not to elaborate on the details, but informed Lizzie of his message to Armstrong to escort her to Romney's estate. He had hoped to deliver her brother to her safe and healed. But if Robinson didn't survive this, Lizzie might never forgive Sin if she didn't get to see her brother one last time.

An hour later, Romney escorted Sin and Wright upstairs to Robinson's room, where Bethany was checking the patient's pulse as the maid, Louisa and a footman were gathering up soiled linens.

Bethany turned to the maid. "Louisa, please ready another tray of clean cloths and rolls of bandages. Ask Cook to prepare a tray with oatmeal and willow bark tea. And have a footman bring up a pot of boiled water."

"Yes, milady," the petite maid said with a quick curtsey.

"Do you have my sewing kit?"

"Yes, milady, I already placed it in the room."

"Thank you, Louisa."

Sin and Wright exchanged bemused glances as Bethany continued to give orders to her staff like a seasoned field general.

She turned to them. "Do you recall when he had laudanum last?"

"Just before we disembarked from the ship," Wright replied. "We thought he would need it on the journey here."

"Good, then he should be fine for another few hours. I must leave you gentlemen to tend to Captain Robinson. Please take time to rest and make yourselves at home. My husband will see to your comfort. In the meantime, we've readied chambers for both of you. I will inform you of Captain Robinson's condition as soon as I can."

"I think we've been given our orders," Romney said, chuckling. "I have some brandy in the library." He turned to his wife. "Remember your promise. Louisa will be my eyes."

Bethany stood on her tiptoes and kissed Romney's cheek. "I promise."

Sin thought about Lizzie and felt his heart wrench. He admitted to himself that he envied the Romneys' relaxed affection and hoped with all his heart that he and Lizzie could share the same in the future.

"Lord Sinclair…" Bethany began in her soft, melodic voice.

"Sin. Please. We are old friends now. And I'm here to help," he said.

"Sin," she amended with a smile. "Before you leave, can you point out the locations of his stitches? I want to make sure I understand the injuries."

"Certainly." He showed her where the knife wound was, as well as the gunshot wound. "He seems to have suffered some torture. I saw small gashes on his arms, but they didn't appear to be infected."

An hour later, Sin checked on Robinson and was surprised when he saw the transformation in the captain. He had been bathed, his beard shaved, his wounds cleaned, and he was, for the first time, resting comfortably. Sin exchanged a glance with Wright, whose expression of surprise matched his.

"You have accomplished a feat in such a short time," Sin said.

"My wife is incredible," Romney said, stepping into the room behind them.

Bethany blushed as she explained the use of the willow bark tea and the poultices she would apply to his wounds. "The most important issue is to battle infection, and hopefully we can accomplish that," she said. "The main wounds are in his ribs and his leg, as you no doubt have already observed. His left leg is riddled with fragments."

"The ship's doctor said he had gotten the ball, but suspected there were fragments that he had been unable to find and dig out," Wright said.

"This is why his leg wound had begun to fester," Bethany added. "There are red streaks, and a putrid smell is emanating from his wounds. Given he was shot and stabbed more than a week ago, I was surprised that his leg was not worse. As you can see, the redness has already begun to abate after two of our footmen bathed him."

"He was facedown in water when we found him—and I fear he spent a lot of time in water during high tide," Sin said.

"Goodness! Where was he?" Bethany gasped.

"The Isle of Wight, tied up in a cave. The ground was high enough. But when we arrived, he was tied to a chair and pushed into the rising water," Wright added.

Bethany's eyes widened even more.

"What it is, darling?" Romney asked.

"The water may have inadvertently prevented a severe infection," she said. "Knife wounds are difficult to clean because they are narrow and deep."

Another maid arrived carrying a tray filled with additional cloths, bandages, and oatmeal.

"Thank you, May. Please place the willow bark tea on the side table to cool."

Sin recognized the aroma from his time recuperating under Lizzie's care. It was the same tea she had spoon-fed him night and day. His chest ached at the memory. He'd been in just as bad condition as Robinson, but Lizzie had not given up on him. And nor would they give up on her brother.

"Thank you, Louisa and May. Please place the willow bark tea on the table to cool just a bit," Bethany said.

"Where is Dr. Fox?" Romney asked.

"He sent word that Mrs. Lambert was in labor," Bethany replied as she arranged various supplies next to the bed. "He said in his note that he did not think it would take long, since it is her third child. I'm certain he will be here soon."

"What can we do to help?" Romney asked.

"Two of you can hold him down, and one of you can hold this lantern above the wound."

They helped Bethany ready Robinson's leg, placing a towel beneath and holding him steady as she poured a liquid that made everyone's eyes water over his wound.

"Is that vinegar?" Wright asked.

"Yes, I distill it with various herbs to cleanse wounds," she said. Bethany took a pair of small tweezers and began to dig into the various gashes in his leg where the gunshot had exploded.

Robinson groaned and tried to kick out, but Sin and Wright held him down while Romney held the lantern over the leg.

An hour later, Bethany dropped a fifth metal fragment into the bowl. This one was the biggest yet, and the most deeply embedded. "There now," she said with a sigh. "I think we have all of our culprits."

"You need to sit down, darling. In this, I must insist," Romney said, pulling out a chair and helping her sit.

Bethany sat and lifted the hem of her gown. "My feet have begun to swell."

"I think it's time for you to lie down."

"Darling, we still have to suture his wounds."

"I can do it, milady," Louisa said, stepping forward.

"Well, I can get this cleaned out if you can help me with the stitches, Louisa," Bethany said. "I don't think I can bend over too much longer, but I want to clean this once more." Pouring hot water and the vinegar solution over his wound, she carefully cleaned it with a clean cloth. Looking up at Sin and Wright, she said, "This can be gory."

Sin laughed. "I hope you appreciate your wife's sense of humor."

"I do," Romney said, chuckling.

Once the leg wound was cleaned, Bethany sat down and let Louisa take over. The maid withdrew the silk thread from the sewing kit and began to make small stitches along the gash. When she'd finished, she moved back so Bethany could see them.

"They look perfect, Louisa," Bethany said. "Now we must see if we can get Captain Robinson to eat some of the oatmeal. Otherwise, his stomach could add to his problems—all the laudanum and tea could be disquieting."

Robinson began waking from the laudanum. They fluffed pillows and coaxed him to eat a few bites of oatmeal. With no small effort, Louisa convinced him to drink the willow bark tea. He was still moaning and groaning in pain.

"I feel better about things than I did earlier," Bethany said, pointing to Robinson's leg. "He may still have a fever for a few days. But I hope we've managed to stem any serious infection."

Dr. Fox chose that moment to arrive, escorted by their butler, Jeeves.

He greeted everyone and examined the patient. Stepping back, he commented, "As usual, you have outdone yourself, Lady Romney. I try to keep your talents hidden so that I can keep my employment in these parts."

"You flatter me, doctor. If not for you, I don't think my husband would have survived this pregnancy," Bethany teased.

"Since you are here, would you mind checking Bethany?" Romney asked.

Dr. Fox chuckled. "I will be happy to, of course."

"You seemed much more relaxed in London, Romney. What changed?" Sin asked.

"She's closer to her due date," Romney said with a wry smile.

"I'm fine, Matthew," Bethany said. "I promise. My feet are a little swollen, but I've been sitting and following the doctor's orders. Besides, there are two more weeks before this baby is due."

"Your husband may be more relaxed on the second child. But you do need to prop up those legs and rest the ankles," Dr. Fox said. "They are very swollen. You've been on them too long."

"Yes, doctor," Bethany said. "I promise."

"Come, darling, I'll escort you to our chamber," Romney said, placing his arm around his wife's delicate shoulders. "Will you fellows be fine here with Robinson?"

"Yes, of course," Sin replied. "Thank you, Bethany—you have conjured a miracle this day."

"I don't know about that, but we can certainly pray for one," Bethany said, blinking back tears. "I wish we could guarantee he will survive. Fever is a nasty foe. But we will do our best."

"Thank you again," Sin said, hoping that Robinson was strong enough to fight his fever and live to see his sister again.