Chapter Twenty-six

E arly the next morning, a knock came on the bedchamber door. Thomas's eyes flew open as he realized he must have dozed off. Fear stabbed its fangs into his throat as he gazed down at the small, still figure in the bed. "Harry, Harry, open your eyes!"

My God, don't let her have slipped away. Thomas held his breath for what seemed like endless minutes, and then finally he saw the flicker of an eyelash. Relief washed over him. He heard the knock again and called, "Come in."

The door swung open and Riley stood there holding a paper packet. "Beggin' yer pardon, m'lord, but in Ireland we put a lot of faith in alkanet. I took the liberty of getting some from the apothecary. In the old country, we put it in wine. Will ye try it, sor?"

"I will indeed, Riley." Thomas took the packet and mixed the powered alkanet in some watered wine. He moved his wife up against the pillows, gently opened her dry lips with his thumb, and poured a few drops into her mouth.

Harry choked and coughed. She raised her lashes and gave her husband a beseeching look that implored him to make it stop.

She looks to me for strength. I would give my life to make her better. "My love, at last we've found the cure." If he was lying, he was beyond caring. "Alkanet is an Irish remedy to cure the flux, and the wine will give you strength."

For answer Harry closed her eyes and opened her lips. He put a few drops into her mouth. "Swallow for me, sweetheart. Swallow the wine."

Little by little, as the hours crawled by, Harry was able to keep the herbal concoction down without retching it back up. And no one was more surprised or thankful than Thomas when her flux stopped. In the afternoon, she fell asleep. He reasoned the wine probably induced it, but he didn't have the heart to awaken her.

While she slept, Thomas bathed, and ate the first meal he'd had in days. He dispatched Riley with a note to Norton at St. James's Square asking him to pack enough clothes for a trip to Shugborough.

When Harry awoke, he made her drink another cup of alkanet in wine. Then he gave her a sponge bath and changed her bed linen. She was far from recovered, but at least she was no longer losing her vital body fluid, and Thomas believed the very best medicine would be to get her to Shugborough, in spite of the long carriage ride.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and took her small hand in his. "Your condition is greatly improved, Harry. Tomorrow, if I wrap you up and put you in the carriage, will you let me take you to Shugborough?"

He saw the light of hope in her eyes for the first time since she had come down with the contagion. "Please," she whispered softly.

True to his word, the next morning Thomas had Riley ready the coach. He loaded his own and Harry's trunks, as well as Rose's baggage. He dressed his wife in a warm flannel nightgown and knit slippers, then wrapped her in an eiderdown and carried her down to the carriage. Rose brought a bucket and a bedpan, just in case.

Though Thomas showed great enthusiasm that Harry was able to undertake the journey, on the inside he was racked with silent worry. His wife's legs were paralyzed, and he agonized over whether she would ever regain the ability to walk. He hoped against hope that once Harry got to Shugborough, her happy spirits would miraculously make her whole again.

They set off from London, and when they reached the countryside, Thomas was tempted to bare his conscience and confess to the reasons why he had leased a house on Half Moon Street and turned it into a gambling establishment. More than anything, he wanted to assure Harry that he'd sold the lease and was no longer involved. He longed to apologize to his wife, beg her forgiveness, and assure her it would never happen again.

But he could clearly see the fatigue written on her face. She was being extremely brave just tolerating the rigors of the carriage ride and summoning the strength it would take to reach Shugborough. Thomas decided he could not salve his conscience at Harry's expense. It would sap her strength and leave her in a state of utter exhaustion.

It was after dark when Riley drove through the gates of Shugborough Hall, and Thomas saw that both Rose and his wife were asleep. His heart overflowed with relief that she had not been taken from him. Before he disturbed her, he whispered, "I love you, Harry."

When he picked her up and carried her up the steps of the grand portico, through the elegant columns to the front door, Harry opened her eyes and breathed a sigh of pleasure.

"Mrs. Stearn, you remember Riley, the Abercorns' coachman. He will need a room plenished. And this is Rose, my wife's personal maid. She'll need a room close to our bedchamber." He sat down on an oak settle in the reception hall, holding his wife in his lap. "Please call the household servants. I need to explain something to them."

Thomas waited until the butler and all the maids were gathered. "Lady Harry has been extremely ill, and is still not well, so I have brought her to Shugborough to recover. What she has is not contagious, so you need have no fear. She cannot walk at the moment, but with time, that will be remedied." He stood up. "I'll take her upstairs now and Riley will carry up the luggage. Thank you all for your understanding."

When Thomas carried Harry into their gold and black master bedchamber, he watched her glance lovingly linger on the brass-monkey andirons and the chess set with its carved animal pieces. He set her down on the edge of the bed, and went down on his knees to remove her knit slippers. Then he massaged the muscles of her legs, and didn't stop until he saw her pale flesh turn pink. "Are you happy, Harry?"

For the first time since she'd been ill, Thomas saw her eyes smile.

When the luggage was brought up, Rose found Harry a clean nightgown. She helped Thomas fold up the beautiful bedcover with its golden dragonflies, and then he lifted Harry into the wide bed. "I know you're exhausted, sweetheart, but I still need to get a cup of alkanet wine into you."

Just then, there was a loud meow. "Here's Kouli come to see you. Would you like me to put her up on the bed?" The Persian cat rubbed her head against Harry's shoulder a few times and then cuddled down beside her.

The following day, Harry overcame her biggest hurdle. Mrs. Stearn made her some barley water, and not only did the patient keep it down; her retching disappeared and her flux did not return. The barley water quenched her raging thirst, and Mrs. Stearn set the kitchen maid to preparing a beef broth that would bring back Lady Harry's strength.

By afternoon she was restored enough to talk. "I want to see the daffodils."

"And so you shall." Thomas directed Rose to bring a day dress and stockings. The dress fit Harry loosely because she had lost so much weight. He brushed her hair and covered her head with a sun hat. He wrapped her in a cloak, picked her up in his arms, and carried her downstairs. Kouli trotted after them.

He strode outside and did not slow down until he reached the water. The riverside garden was a mass of yellow, and beyond the flowers, the swans and waterfowl glided.

"Thomas, the daffodils are breathtaking, and look! The cygnets have hatched."

He sat her down on the river wall so she could look her fill. "Breathe deeply and fill your lungs with the unique scent of daffodils."

Harry lifted her face to the sun and inhaled deeply. "I won't just fill my lungs; I shall fill my soul." She closed her eyes and smiled. "Thank you for bringing me."

"Nay, I thank you for sharing Shugborough with me. It makes the enjoyment a thousand times sweeter. Are you ready to go to your walled garden?"

"It is our garden, Thomas." She slid her arms about his neck and he lifted her.

He carried her through the wooden gate, and sat her on the rustic bench so she could watch the birds flutter about the cascading fountain.

"I can smell jasmine and honeysuckle. It is the most romantic scent in the whole world. Shugborough is absolute perfection. I just wish I could walk."

"You will walk. Never doubt it for a moment. Your muscles have to regain their strength." He thrust away his doubts. I have to completely believe what I'm saying, so that Harry will believe. "If the weather stays hot, I'll take you in the water and hold you while you swim. Little by little, you will regain the use of your legs. In a few days, I warrant you'll be strong enough to sit a horse, and we'll take a ride into Cannock Chase."

She undid the ribbons of her sun hat and removed it. "That would be so lovely."

Thomas sat down beside her and took her hand. "Harry, when you discovered I was running a gaming house, I know you were shocked and hurt. I offer no defense or excuse because that would be rationalizing my mistakes. I want you to know my connection with Hazard House is over and done. I am ready to change. More than anything in the world, I want your trust."

She lifted his hand to her cheek. "Thomas, I thought all that was important. But it wasn't. When I became deathly ill, the only thing I wanted was you. And you came because you loved me. Without you, I would have surely died. You saved my life. You have earned my trust a thousand times over. I will never doubt you again."

Kouli jumped into the flower bed chasing a butterfly. Harry laughed and Thomas thought it was the loveliest sound he'd ever heard. "Aren't you going to scold her?"

"She's far too fat to jump high enough to catch it." His arm went around her to draw her close. "You could use a little fat on your bones. I live for the day when your voracious appetite returns and you are hungry again."

"As a matter of fact, I am hungry right now. No more broth for me." She gave him a saucy, sideways glance. "A guinea says I can eat something solid tonight."

"If I were a gambling man, I'd double that bet."

During the next week, Thomas carried her to visit the pale blue Chinese pagoda, as well as the brewhouse, where he poured her half a tankard of Shugborough's home-brewed ale.

"Fill it up. If I become legless, you'll simply have to carry me."

He grinned. "I'm delighted that your audacious sense of humor has returned. I could have no greater sign that your health is almost fully recovered."

He carried her to her walled garden for an hour every afternoon. He massaged her legs twice each day and was rewarded by the fact that she could now stand, though not yet walk. The dark circles beneath her eyes disappeared, and her lovely black hair became lustrous again. His apprehension began to ease slightly.

Every night in their four-poster, Thomas gathered her close against his heart. He whispered words of adoration to let her know how lovely she was, and how lucky he was to be her husband. Above all else, he wanted her to trust him implicitly, and wanted her to feel safe and secure in the knowledge that he loved and adored her. She clung to him trustingly and he kept his desire under control, sensing that when she was strong enough to make love, she would let him know.

Early one morning, Thomas carried her out to the beehives so she could watch him gather the honeycombs. Mary Trudgett, the stillroom maid, accompanied them, toting a big earthenware crock.

Harry laughed when she saw him light up a cigar. "Another secret vice!" she teased.

"Most of the bees have already left the hives to gather the day's pollen, but this smoke will lull any that remain and make them drowsy so they won't get angry." Thomas removed only one honeycomb from each of the dozen hives and put it into the crock. "This way, the theory goes, they don't even know one honeycomb is missing. But I think bees are far smarter than that. I prefer to think of them as being generous."

"I love honey. What do you do when you get these to the stillroom, Mary?"

"I put them in a press to extract the honey. Then later today, I will melt the beeswax combs to make candles, Lady Harry."

When they returned to the house, the post had been delivered. Thomas received a note from the coaching inn in Stafford informing him that they had received delivery of a pair of statues from Wood-stock, Oxfordshire. The note said that they could transport the items to Shugborough the following week, or if Lord Lichfield preferred, he could make his own arrangements.

The centaurs! Thomas knew that the Duke of Marlborough had made good on his gambling losses, and had the marble statues shipped from Blenheim Palace. I'll go and get them this afternoon. I want it to be a surprise for Harry.

He summoned Ramsey and asked the steward to accompany him to the stables, where the head groom was currying the carriage horses. "I have a task for you, Toby. Go with Ramsey and borrow one of the farm wagons and a couple of Staffordshire workhorses. We are going into town to pick up a delivery of statues. They are extremely heavy, so I'll get Riley and Vickerstaff to come with us."

Thomas returned to the house, where he was in time to join Harry for lunch. He was encouraged to see her eat a whole breast of partridge and a half dozen spears of asparagus dipped in butter. Then she devoured a large serving of strawberries and cream, and stole half of his. "You are insatiable." He picked her up and kissed her nose.

He carried her upstairs, put her down on their wide bed, and propped pillows behind her. "I have to go into Stafford on business, and while I'm gone, I want you to have a rest. I'll be back in a couple of hours. Here's Kouli to keep you company."

"Darling, hand me a couple of the books I brought from London."

He ran his fingers over the titles. "Which would you like?"

"Any two will do, so long as one of them is Tom Jones ."

He raised his eyebrows, pretending to be shocked.

Harry giggled. "I find that men christened Thomas are the very devil!"

He brought her the books and dipped his head for a lingering kiss.

Oh, Harry, you are going to be over the moon when you see the centaurs are back in the Tower of Winds.

When the farm wagon got to the Stafford coaching inn, it took all five men to lift and load the black marble centaurs. On the way back, Riley sat next to Toby, who was driving the wagon. He was itching to drive the big Staffordshire workhorses, but decided he'd better leave it to someone with experience.

Thomas sat in the bed of the wagon with Ramsey and Vickerstaff. The trio kept a firm grip on the treasured statues to keep them steady. Thomas couldn't keep the grin from his face. It had taken many years of searching and, once he learned their location, an enormous amount of dealing before he regained possession of the centaurs. At long last they are returning to Shugborough where they belong.

Before the wagon drove through the gate, Thomas thought he could smell something burning. The horses slowly clopped past the daffodils in the riverside garden, and the house came into view. Black smoke billowed up from the mansion. All the men saw it at the same time and cried out their alarm. "My God, Shugborough's afire. We have to save the house!"

Thomas was off the wagon in a flash. "To hell with Shugborough. Harry can't walk!" He ran as if all the demons in Hades were after him. He dashed between the columns on the portico and when he opened the front door, a cloud of black smoke met him. He could hear the high-pitched sounds of women's voices—panicking and shouting that seemed to come from the kitchen area. He could not take the time to investigate, but as he bolted toward the stairs, he bellowed, "Get out! Everybody get out!"

He took the stairs two at a time. The higher he went, the thicker the smoke seemed to be. In the hall outside the master bedchamber, the smoke was drifting in menacing gray swirls. It caught in his throat, and it was difficult to take a deep breath, which did nothing to keep his fear for Harry at bay.

He flung open the bedroom door, and was gripped by panic when he saw the bed was empty. Then he heard her cough, and saw that she was on the floor. Her legs prevented her from crawling, but she was pulling herself toward the door using only her hands.

He swooped her up in his arms and began to run.

"Thomas, I knew you'd come for me. Set me down outside and go and fight the fire. We cannot lose Shugborough!"

When he reached the ground floor, he could now hear men's voices mixed in with the women's. He could hear someone issuing orders. He was totally focused on getting Harry to safety and didn't stop running until he reached the stables, where he set her down on a pile of hay in one of the stalls. The only person there was Toby's young son.

"I want to go and fight the fire, m'lord."

"I forbid it," Thomas declared. "Shugborough's people are what matters, not the hall. I charge you to look after my wife until I return."

"Go around the back, Thomas, I think it must have started in the kitchen."

"No time for that," he explained. "I have to find Kouli." He was off and running before she could reply.

Back inside the house, Thomas thought the smoke was not quite as thick, but he reasoned that was because it would now be dispersed over a wider area, and a greater number of rooms. He retraced his steps to the master bedchamber. The Persian cat had been with Harry when he had left for Stafford.

He entered the bedroom, calling the cat's name, but there was no response, and though Thomas circled the entire chamber, there was no sign of Kouli-Khan. He knew that Harry would be distraught if the cat perished, so he searched the bedchambers in the same wing. His heart sank when he came up empty. He knew he should abandon the search and join Shugborough's people, who he guessed were doing their best to fight the fire and keep it from destroying the entire house.

At the last minute, an idea occurred to him. Kouli may be hiding under the bed.

Thomas tied his neckcloth around his nose and mouth, went down on all fours, and crawled beneath the bed. He saw the cat huddled in a corner in abject terror. He grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and dragged it toward him. Kouli dug her claws into his hand, but when Thomas did not let go, the cat transferred her claws to his coat and clung tightly.

He ran downstairs and did not stop until he reached the stables. He pried Kouli from his jacket and dropped her into Harry's lap. "If you stay here in the stables, you'll be safe." He was panting heavily. "I'll go and see what I can do."

When Thomas arrived at the back of the hall, he found that the entire house staff, plus Ramsey, the stable grooms, and Riley, had formed a bucket brigade from the outside pump to the kitchen. He saw that the stillroom had burned away completely, and the fire had spread to the kitchen. But because the house was covered in slate, the flames had taken much longer to get inside and do irreparable damage.

The fire had managed to burn through two large window frames and the kitchen door. The iron stove and the immense cooking range were still intact, along with the cast-iron cooking pots and pans. Though the oak table and butcher blocks were on fire and the kitchen chairs were now piles of ash, Thomas was surprised to see that the slate floor was unmarred, the porcelain sinks—though black with soot—were undamaged, and though the walls were smoldering, they were still standing. Thomas was extremely relieved that the fire had not burned through the ceiling to their bedchamber above. There was an abundance of smoke upstairs because it had risen through the chimney of the kitchen fireplace.

Thomas wielded the buckets of water alongside his staff until every last lick of flame was out and nothing was left smoldering. Everyone sank down on the floor to catch his or her breath.

"I thank all of you from the bottom of my heart," he panted. "You have saved Shugborough. Your loyalty and devotion to me and to the house are beyond belief. The sensible thing would have been to save yourselves. I owe every single one of you a deep debt of gratitude." His gaze traveled about the kitchen. "This can all be restored. The damage looks far worse at the moment than it really is."

He gazed around the room and began to laugh as relief set in. "If any of you have strength left to climb stairs, we'd better throw open all the windows and doors to rid the rooms of smoke. We'll be smelling the stuff for weeks."

Riley, Ramsey, and Vickerstaff followed him from the kitchen, while the women stayed behind to clean up the mess.

Early the next morning, Harry gazed at her sleeping husband. Her heart overflowed with tenderness for him. He loves me far more than he loves Shugborough.

She prodded him awake. "Come on, slugabed, I refuse to wait any longer to see the damage. I let you put me off last night with the excuse that you were tired, but the real reason you wouldn't carry me to the kitchen was that you didn't want me to be upset."

"That is exactly the reason, my shrewd, tattooed beauty."

"Thomas, I am not a delicate flower who wilts in the face of adversity. In any case, Rose told me what to expect. I know the stillroom is completely gone. Apparently, Mary Trudgett had pressed the honey from the wax combs, and was in the process of melting the beeswax to pour into the candle molds.

She accidentally knocked over the crock of honey and it covered everything. In her agitation, the flame she had lit to melt the beeswax spread to a keg of brandy and set it ablaze. It was like a river of fire, and Mary did the right thing to flee from the wooden stillroom and cry the alarm."

Thomas dressed himself and then brought Harry her petticoat and stockings.

She took them from his hands. "I can do this," she insisted.

"Yes, I know. But it deprives me of a great deal of pleasure."

The corners of her mouth went up. "You are full of blarney. Sometimes I suspect you have Irish blood."

He grinned. "It's Welsh—Celtic; same thing, really." He helped her into her dress, fastened the buttons up the back, and kissed the nape of her neck.

"I suppose it is. You share many similarities with my father. Another dark, dominant, dangerous devil, according to my mother."

"And then some," he said with a wink.

Thomas stoically carried Harry into the kitchen. The burned-out windows and door had been boarded up, and all the ash and soot had been cleared away. He watched her face with trepidation, and saw her eyes flood with tears. "Not a delicate flower, indeed!"

Harry tried to smile through her tears. "I think of Shugborough as a living, breathing thing. I can feel the house's pain."

He kissed her ear. "That's because you've been in a lot of pain yourself recently. You are sensitive at the moment, and I wouldn't have you any other way." He set her feet to the floor and stood behind her to hold her steady. "Actually, we were extremely lucky. If Shugborough hadn't been encased in slate, the whole place would have gone up like an inferno. We will have it repaired in no time."

"But, Thomas, what will we use for money?"

"The sheep shearing produced more wool than last year, and I hear the price of wool has gone up." He lifted her and carried her to the breakfast room.

Before the food arrived, Harry put her hand over her husband's. "How are you feeling, Thomas? Your great fear of Shugborough catching fire has been realized. It must have been extremely traumatic for you, darling."

"When I saw the house was on fire, my priorities immediately fell into their rightful order. Saving you was all that mattered. Shugborough took second place."

"Nay, Kouli took second place. Shugborough came last."

"Perhaps my deep-seated fears of Shugborough burning have been laid to rest."

Harry picked up her fork and waved it like a magic wand. "I hereby decree all bad dreams are in the past. From now on, we will only dream about the future."

Mrs. Stearn brought in their breakfast, and Harry immediately reached under the table and fed Kouli a piece of bacon.

"When your father returns from Ireland, I intend to swallow my damnable pride and ask him to advise me about investments and stocks, although truth to tell, that is the riskiest form of gambling that exists."

"I warrant there is a great deal of money to be made if you are shrewd. If your damnable pride will allow you to take a woman's advice, I would recommend iron. Thousands of items in this modern day and age are made from cast iron. Woodstoves, kitchen ranges, pots and pans, park railings, fire grates, and locomotives. Just promise me you won't put your money in coal?"

"You are the most audacious female I have ever met. Now, begod, you fancy yourself as my financial adviser."

"Oh, I don't just limit myself to finances. I'm willing to advise you on any subject you fancy, Lord Bloody Lichfield."

"Well, in that case, I would value your opinion on something I brought from Stafford. If you don't like it, we'll get rid of it."

Thomas picked her up and carried her outside. He crossed the velvet lawn and headed toward the Tower of Winds. He set her down just inside the entrance.

"Thomas! Oh my God, it's the centaurs !" She raised her arms and took five steps toward them.

"Harry, you are walking!" He ran to her, swooped her up in his arms, and twirled her about. "The minute you saw the centaurs, you forgot about your legs."

"I did. Isn't that amazing?" She laughed with relief. Then she took a few more steps, and placed a loving hand on the black marble.

"Oh, you are my magic man. How did you ever get Marlborough to give them up?"

"I won the damn things, of course."

Harry reached up and kissed him. "Bugger and balls, you are a wicked devil."