In the Shadow of Arabella Page 22

  Oliver

  “Run down to the stables, Tom, and saddle Navigator. I am leaving for Hampshire immediately.” Tom hurried to do his bidding while Rudley quickly went upstairs to exchange his evening dress for riding clothes.

  Within fifteen minutes Rudley was setting off at a smart pace through the London streets. There was three-quarters of a moon, but the sky was cloudy and the moon flitted in and out of cover, allowing for a few moments a good view of the road ahead and then suddenly plunging all into blackness. Rudley held Navigator to a strict trot until he was thoroughly warmed. Then, as they reached the outskirts of town, he allowed him to break into a canter. They galloped on through the night, meeting no one and seeing nothing but the road underfoot.

  Within an hour of the doctor’s arrival Katherine’s condition had improved, but there was no doubt she was in labor and, early or not, the child would probably be born that night. Oliver asked if he could sit with Katherine and the doctor said he had no objection if Lady Rudley had none.

  On his way upstairs to Katherine’s room Oliver encountered Pamela. Her tearstained face told its own story. “How is her ladyship, Uncle Oliver?”

  He could see no reason to hedge—Pamela was old enough to understand. “Dr. Bailey feels the child will be born tonight, but it is coming too soon, and it may not live, Pamela.”

  “And my stepmother, will she be all right?”

  “We must believe so, and pray for her. She is young and strong; the odds are in her favor.”

  “Papa should be here.”

  “I have sent for him. I am sure he will come as quickly as he can. Meanwhile, why don’t you go to your room and do some work on the painting of Karma that you are doing for Katherine. The doctor has said I may sit with her for a while. I promise to come to you immediately if there is any news, but I must warn you that these things take time and it may be morning before we know anything. Be sure you get to your bed early and rest well; we may need your help tomorrow.”

  He kissed her then and walked with her as far as Katherine’s door. He waited until Pamela disappeared into her own room, then knocked quietly and entered Katherine’s room.

  “The doctor has said that I may stay with you if you wish it,” he said. “It is likely to be a long night, and I doubt the pains will allow you to sleep.” He pulled a chair to the side of the bed and took one of her hands in his. “May I stay and help you through this, Katherine?”

  She smiled and squeezed his hand lightly. “Yes, please, I should like it if you would stay.”

  So Oliver sat with her through the long hours of the night and into the early hours of the morning, praying that there would be no further complications and that Ned would arrive quickly.

  Mrs. Windom and some of the other servants had not retired, and during the night the housekeeper came several times into the room. After Oliver had noticed her for the third time casting a discountenancing glance in his direction, he rose quietly and motioned her to follow him from the room. “To what do I owe these dagger looks you are giving me, Mrs. Windom?” he asked bluntly.

  “It is not proper for you to be in her ladyship’s bedchamber, sir, especially with her in childbed. It is not fitting—”

  He interrupted her harshly. “Do not preach the proprieties to me, Mrs. Windom. I think I need not remind you that I lost my own wife in childbed. I will not leave my brother’s wife alone so long as she derives the smallest degree of comfort from my presence. Please allow me to add that it is not your place to either approve or disapprove my behavior.’’

  He turned abruptly and reentered Katherine’s room, leaving the housekeeper in the hallway with her mouth agape. When she later returned to the room, he saw no sign of her earlier disapprobation. He knew not whether she had altered her opinion or simply seen the merit in choosing not to show it, but whichever was the case, he found he did not care.

  Rudley judged Woking to be no more than three miles ahead. The road had deteriorated greatly and Navigator was laboring. When Rudley turned into the yard of the Bull’s Head, he realized Henderson must have been watching for him, for the groom was at Navigator’s head before the horse came to a complete stop. Rudley slipped from the saddle. “Do you have any news from home, Henderson?”

  “No, m’lord,” the man answered apologetically. “I left only minutes after Tom, and I can tell you nothing. Will you stop to rest or do you ride on?”

  “I ride on.” Henderson beckoned to a boy standing nearby and he stepped forward leading Tortuga. “Do your best for Navigator,” Rudley said as he patted the horse’s sweat-covered neck. “He has galloped his heart out for me tonight.”

  “Aye, m’lord. I am sure he has. And this one will do no less.” He tossed the reins over Tortuga’s head and held him while the earl mounted. “We have had heavy rain, m’lord, and the roads are mired, especially between Stynum and Padford. Take care how you go on.”

  “I will, Henderson. Thank you.” Rudley gave Tortuga the office to start and within a few hundred feet they had disappeared from sight.

  It was a blessing that Rudley’s continuous concentration on his horse and his riding gave him little time to dwell on anything else, for the few thoughts that did crowd in were not pleasant ones. A week ago he had been pondering how to arrange his life so as to see as little of his wife as possible. Now, with her life in danger, he realized that he valued no other person above her.

  Beyond Stynum, as Henderson had warned, the road was treacherous. He and Tom had both passed through this area in the daylight. Now, in the dark, there was nothing Rudley could do but pull Tortuga to a walk and allow him to pick his own way along the pockmarked and rutted road. By the time they reached Padford it had begun to rain, but the road was better here and familiar to both horse and rider. One final time Rudley asked his stallion for a canter, and although Tortuga’s pace was slower, he still drove steadily on, arriving at Rudley Court steaming, trembling, and blown.

  The earl rode directly to the stables, where there were three grooms waiting, clearly expecting him. With Henderson gone, Rudley realized that young Wilson was now in charge. Dismounting, he handed Tortuga’s reins to him. “This horse is to be rubbed down and properly cooled if it takes you the rest of tonight and half of tomorrow to do it. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, m’lord,” Wilson answered as he immediately began to loosen the saddle girth. Rudley turned without another word and strode off toward the house, but his tone left little doubt in the minds of his servants what their fate would be if they failed to obey him.

  The front door was opened for him by Reeves. As he stepped into the lighted hall the butler was startled by his appearance. Rudley had been soaked through by the rain and his boots and breeches were caked with mud. Stripping off his gloves, he demanded the time.

  “It is nearly half-past five, my lord.”

  “So late! I had hoped to do better.”

  He shoved his dripping hat and gloves into the butler’s hands and started up the stairs two at a time. He met Oliver in the upstairs hall. “How is Katherine?”

  “The child was born an hour ago.” Rudley started past him, but Oliver grasped his arm. “You cannot go in now, Ned. The doctor is still with her, and we dare not distract him from his work.”

  “Tell me what has happened while I get out of these clothes.”

  They went together to the earl’s rooms as Oliver continued. “There was some hemorrhaging after the birth. Katherine’s condition is serious; the next few hours are critical. Bailey does not hold much hope for the child, being almost two months early.” He answered Rudley’s unspoken question. “It is a girl, but she is not strong. Kendall has gone to the rectory for his father in the event we should need him.”

  Rudley was pulling on a clean shirt, but he turned to his brother then and Oliver could clearly hear the pain and guilt in his voice. “I did not want this! You cannot think I would ever wish the child dead.’’

  “I do not think it,” Oliver assured him. “Nor will
Katherine.”

  “Is there nothing we can do?”

  “No, nothing, only wait … and pray.”

  Outside Katherine’s room the earl encountered Nicholas’s nurse coming from the room directly opposite. “Lord Rudley, no one told me you had arrived. If they will not let you in to see her ladyship, would you like to see the babe?”

  Rudley stared at her uncomprehendingly. Then he realized that she, as well as the other servants, believed this child to be his. Naturally they would expect him to want to see it. He saw that Oliver was about to come to his aid with some excuse or other, but he decided that he did indeed wish to see Katherine’s child. He reminded Oliver to send for him the moment he could see Katherine and then turned to enter the room.

  It was a small bedchamber in which a large fire had been lit. Mrs. Windom and two maids hovered near a cradle set to one side of the fireplace. Crossing the room silently on the carpet, Rudley looked down on Katherine’s newborn girl. She was closely wrapped to keep her warm, but he could see she was very tiny. He was surprised to see that her eyes were open and if he listened carefully, he could hear her making tiny, whimpering sounds, much like those of a newborn puppy.

  For months he had bitterly resented the existence of this child. Now, as he looked down at her innocent face, he knew how unfair he had been. All his bitterness faded as he realized that this tiny living creature was a small part of the woman he loved. If the doctor proved to be correct and the child did not survive, Rudley knew he would mourn her even as Katherine would. But doctors had been known to be mistaken, and the earl knew that although it was unusual for a baby this premature to survive, it was by no means impossible.

  A few minutes after six o’clock Dr. Bailey quit Katherine’s room to report that her condition had stabilized. She had slipped into a state of semi-consciousness, but her pulse was steady and he thought the worst was over.

  As Rudley entered Katherine’s room, the midwife stepped toward him. “She is not conscious, my lord.”

  “Please leave us alone.”

  “For a few moments only, my lord.”

  “I understand.” He stood near the door until the midwife had gone; then he walked to the side of the bed. Katherine’s appearance shocked him. She was deathly pale and still. She did not even appear to be breathing. The hand he lifted in his own was warm and he was reassured, but it was hard to accept the drastic change in her since their last meeting. That day, in her white dress with the blue ribbons and flowers, he remembered thinking she had never looked lovelier.

  Then, kneeling down by the bed and holding her lifeless hand to his cheek, he prayed, not for forgiveness or understanding or the hope of reconciliation but simply that God would be merciful and restore her to health, for if he should be granted that, he would spend whatever time and effort was necessary to make all the rest come right. Never again would he allow his pride to run roughshod over those he loved.

  True to his promise, he stayed less than five minutes and then rejoined Oliver in the corridor. “The Reverend Kendall is downstairs, Ned, and the doctor has seen the baby again. He says her breathing has deteriorated and if you wish to have her christened you should not delay.”

  The rain continued through the morning, and the impenetrable cloud cover held the dawn to a creeping, gradual event, turning the black to gray but allowing not the least ray of sunshine to break through. And in the same slow yet steady progression did the life drain from Katherine’s child. She had not been completely prepared for the world she had been thrust into, and she could not now find the strength necessary to survive in it. Rudley was alone with Katherine when Oliver brought the news to him. Sitting there in the gray light, emotionally drained and physically exhausted, he shed tears for that tiny life he had scorned—and then loved—all in the same day.

  *

  Chapter 20

  Oliver stoodbehind Pamela, watching her create fallen leaves on the ground with soft touches of her amber-tipped brush. Karma stood in a thin wood. Nearly half the leaves had fallen from the trees about her. She stood poised, her head raised and her ears flexed forward as if someone had called her name.

  “Katherine will love this,” he said. “You are nearly finished, are you not?”

  “Yes. Mr. Williby will want to see it later.”

  “How do you like him?”

  “He is wonderful. His paintings are lovely. I shall never be able to paint as he does.”

  “He is not here to teach you to paint as he does. He is here to teach you technique. You must paint in your own way—that is how you can best serve your talent. Did you get any sleep last night?”

  “A little. Did the baby suffer, Uncle Oliver?”

  “No, I do not believe she did. I think she just went to sleep.”

  Pamela seemed to consider this for a moment and then said, “You look tired, too.”

  “I am. I have been up all night, but I am going to bed now. I will look in on Katherine first. I promise to let you know if there is any change.’’

  Oliver had strongly advised his brother to get some rest, but when Oliver’s valet awakened him at six o’clock that evening, he learned that Rudley had continued to sit with Katherine. Outside Katherine’s room Oliver nearly collided with Bess, exiting the room with a heavy tray.

  “What is this?” he asked, as the tray looked untouched.

  “Mrs. Simpson has made some of his lordship’s favorite dishes, sir, but he told me to carry it away again, for he wants nothing.”

  “Give it to me,” Oliver said, taking the tray from her hands. “I will try to persuade him to eat something.”

  Rudley looked up as the door opened again and frowned when he saw his dinner returning. “Don’t scowl at me, Ned, I am not as easily put off as your servants. Whatever this is, it smells delightful, and if you will not have it, then I promise you I shall.” He set the tray on a small table as he glanced at Katherine. “Has there been any change?”

  “No. Her color is a bit better, but she has not awakened.’’

  “I know you will not appreciate my saying so, but another twelve hours of this damned vigil of yours and she will most likely be looking better than you. You spent the better part of six grueling hours in the saddle. You have not slept in over thirty hours nor eaten in the last twenty. You look fagged to death. What service will you be to Katherine if she wakes to find you so?”

  Being a reasonable man, Rudley saw the wisdom of his brother’s words. Still he hesitated. “I want to be here when she wakes, though I doubt she will be pleased to see me.”

  Oliver thought of several things he could say but quickly decided against interfering. Katherine could speak for herself when she was able, and he suspected his brother was ready to listen at last.

  “Ned, eat some of this food Mrs. Simpson has sent up and then get some sleep. I will sit with Katherine and I will not leave her for an instant. I will come for you the moment she wakes. You have my word.” He poured some wine and held it out to Rudley. He was relieved when his brother reached to take it from him.

  Toward midnight the midwife gave it as her opinion that Katherine was no longer unconscious but merely in a heavy, exhausted sleep. She no longer lay motionless but from time to time would turn her head upon the pillow. Several times she murmured soft, unintelligible sounds, but she did not wake, and Oliver made no move to disturb the earl.

  Rudley blinked several times and then sat up with a start. Early-morning light was streaming in through the open curtains. He leaped from bed and, pulling on a dressing gown as he went, hurried to Katherine’s room. Both of the communicating doors stood wide and he found his brother standing at the window watching the sunrise. The sky had cleared and from all indications the day would be fine. Oliver spoke quietly. “She has been sleeping normally for some time now, but she has not yet awakened.”

  “Give me time only to shave and dress and I will come to relieve you.” Rudley turned to leave but hesitated at the door. “And thank you, Oliver, for bullyi
ng me into getting some rest last night.”

  Rudley found that twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep had done much to restore his strength. One look at Katherine’s face, still pale but no longer ghostly white, brought the return of his appetite. He sent down to the kitchen for some breakfast, a request that so gladdened the heart of Mrs. Simpson that she had two footmen carry up enough to feed three hungry men.

  When Katherine opened her eyes at last, bright noonday sun bathed the room. She focused carefully and then stared in disbelief at the large armchair by the window. Her husband was sitting there, reading. She could not imagine why he should be there, for he was supposed to be in Scotland. Thinking that perhaps she was dreaming still, she spoke his name.

  Rudley laid his book aside instantly and came to the bed. He had spent long hours holding her hand while she slept, but now that she was awake, he was not certain he had the right, so he simply sat on a chair pulled up close to the bed and smiled at her.

  “Hallo. You have had a very long sleep. There is a whole house full of people who will be relieved to know you are awake at last.”

  “How do you come to be here?”

  “Oliver sent for me, the evening you began your labor.”

  “Oliver was wonderful. He sat with me the whole night. I was frightened, for it was too soon. What of the baby? I remember the doctor saying it was a girl.”

  Rudley had expected the question and did not hesitate to answer. “Katherine, I am so sorry. There is no easy way to tell you—she was not strong enough. She lived only a few hours.” He thought he saw resignation rather than surprise mixed with the sorrow in her eyes.

  “I feared, all those hours I waited for her to be born, that she might not survive, but I hoped … I wish I had seen her, just once.”

  Rudley wanted to tell her that he had seen the child, but he felt it was too soon. Best let her deal first with the fact that her child was gone. There would be time for the rest when she was stronger. “Katherine, we have much to discuss, but for now you must rest and concentrate on regaining your strength.”