The Highborn Housekeeper. Sarah Mallory

      Gabriel was surfacing from some deep, black pit. His eyelids fluttered but he did not open them fully, for the light was painful and the slightest movement of his head made it throb. In fact, as consciousness returned, he was aware that his whole body ached like the devil.

      He lay still, not struggling to recall what had happened, but allowing memory to return. Still, icy night, the cold bone-deep. The empty lane to Darlton, black shadows and the sudden rush of his attackers. He had thought it was footpads, but those two assailants proved to be no more than a diversion for whoever came from behind and knocked him unconscious. Then he was on the ground, among the trees and being harangued by a female to get up.

      Gingerly he opened his eyes. He was in Dell House, in his own bedchamber. Presumably she had brought him here, as she had promised. Another memory stirred. Someone wiping his forehead with a damp cloth, the soothing smell of lavender. The woman’s voice, softer this time, bidding him to be still. Now he did make an effort to remember. He closed his eyes again, concentrating. Yes, he had seen her. She had come towards the bed, into the lamplight. A full, womanly figure, dark-eyed, red-lipped, with an abundance of glossy dark hair. She had leaned over him, her face full of concern. The same woman who had found him in the copse. Or had he dreamt the whole?

      He heard the click of the door, soft footsteps and Thoresby appeared beside the bed, carrying a tray. The man was so much more than a servant, Gabriel counted him a loyal friend and he was relieved to see him.

      ‘John.’

      ‘Good morning, sir. I am glad to see you awake at last.’

      Gabriel frowned. ‘You were laid up in bed. I feared influenza.’

      ‘Thankfully it was nothing worse than a bad cold, sir, and I am much better now.’ John Thoresby set down the tray on a table that had been pulled close to the bed. With the smallest movement of his head Gabriel could see it held a bowl of something looking suspiciously like porridge. However, that was not his most pressing concern.

      ‘But you were too ill to get out of your bed.’

      ‘That was five days ago, sir.’

      ‘So long!’ He tried to sit up and winced as pain shot through his bruised body.

      Thoresby came to help him, gently supporting his shoulders and rearranging the pillows. Gabriel muttered his thanks and leaned back, closing his eyes until the pains in his body settled into no more than a dull ache.

      ‘There is laudanum, sir, if you wish it.’

      ‘No. Just a little water, if you please.’

      He insisted on holding the glass himself and managed to take a few sips, even though his hands shook. He was glad to relinquish it when he had finished and he leaned back against the pillows, his eyes closed.

      ‘John, there was a woman.’

      ‘Ah, yes. Mrs Hopwood.’

      The name struck a chord.

      ‘She brought me here?’

      ‘Yes, she did. And very relieved I was to see you, even though I could scarce drag myself to the door when she knocked. I knew I shouldn’t have let you go out alone.’

      ‘Damn it, John, you were too ill to be of use. Feverish, too. That is why I left you sleeping. But never mind that now. The woman. Did she stay here?’

      ‘Oh, yes, sir, she stayed,’ said Thoresby. ‘She is still here.’

      ‘What!’

      John spread his hands. ‘It was impossible to stop her, sir. She marched in and took over. I was coughing and sneezing, trying to collect my wits, and the next minute she and her servants were putting you to bed. And no sooner had she made you comfortable than she set about preparing rooms for herself and her maid, while her footman and coachman made themselves at home.’ Thoresby paused. ‘I have to admit, sir, that I could not have tended you without her and that’s a fact. She packed me off to my bed and said she would see to everything. Said a good rest was probably all I needed and after a couple of days I’d be up and about again. And before you say I should’ve protested, I did. I tried, sir, I promise you. And all she said was I should stay away from you, in case I was infectious. It went against the grain, I can tell you, but truth to tell, I was too weak to be much use for the first couple of days.’

      Gabriel recognised the truth of this and held his peace, but he was far from mollified. He glanced again at the tray.

      ‘I suppose that is what she considers a fit breakfast for an invalid.’

      For the first time Thoresby would not meet his eyes.

      ‘Yes, sir. Porridge. It’s what we’ve been managing to get down you for the past couple of days. That and a little chicken broth she cooked up.’

      Gabriel said drily, ‘Mrs Hopwood appears to be a very resourceful woman.’

      Thoresby allowed himself a wry grin. ‘She’s helped us out of a rare scrape, sir, and that’s for sure. If she hadn’t come across you in that wood, you’d have perished by morning. And she and that companion of hers nursed you for the first three days while I was fit for nothing but sleep!’

      ‘And there’ve been no unwanted visitors, no one skulking about in the night?’

      ‘No sign that you was followed back here, sir. With the snow it’s been easy to see that the only tracks around the place are those made by myself or Mrs Hopwood’s servants. We’ve had that much snow the past few days that the roads are blocked now, so nothing’s moving by road.’

      ‘Then we must hope our whereabouts are unknown to my attackers. They may come looking for me, though, if they realise I am alive.’ He lay still for a moment, considering, then said, with sudden decision, ‘It is too dangerous for anyone else save ourselves to be here. You may tell Mrs Hopwood that her help is no longer required.’

      ‘I can try, sir, but I doubt she’ll go until she sees for yourself that you are recovered. Perhaps if you were to eat a few spoonfuls of the porridge...’

      Gabriel cursed him roundly. ‘Take that stuff away and bring me my usual breakfast. Well, what is the matter now?’

      ‘The ladies have quite taken over the kitchen, sir. They have prepared every meal between them since they arrived. I’m not sure...’ Gabriel’s furious gaze made him say quickly, ‘I will go and see to it immediately, I am sure there will be no difficulty.’

      ‘There had better not be.’ Gabriel scowled at him. ‘After that you may help me to get up. If you won’t tell the damn woman to leave, then I will!

       Chapter Three

      Nancy was trimming a piece of beef when Thoresby came in with the tray. She glanced at the untouched breakfast dish.

      ‘Is your master still sleeping?’

      ‘No, ma’am, he is very much awake, and insists upon his usual morning meal of eggs and ham.’

      He announced this with no little trepidation and such an appearance of one prepared to be executed for being the bearer of bad tidings that Nancy had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. She had some sympathy with Mr Thoresby, for she knew she had been something of a tyrant in the past few days, but kitchens and cooking had been her domain for over a decade and she felt at home here. She had taken control, organising the meals and producing food suitable for the injured man, once he had been able to eat a little. Her friends laughingly called her a mother hen, wanting to look after everyone. A sudden warmth spread through her body. Not that she wished Gabriel Shaw to think her motherly!

      She said now, ‘I am glad to hear he is feeling so much better. Would you like to prepare something for him? I am happy to leave this and attend to it, but you will know exactly how he likes his breakfast.’