Mary Blayney - [Pennistan 04] Page 7

  David nodded, aware of what she suggested. She wondered if some kind of pestilence had settled among them.

  “Leave me alone!” the groom who sat on the log shouted to his partner. “My head spins like I drank five nights running.”

  The healthy groom stood up and stepped back from his compatriot, who leaned over the log he sat on and made a terrible retching sound.

  “I think we have added one more to our list of sick and injured.” God help them, illness had claimed a third member of their party. Concern replaced his earlier annoyance.

  “We are close to Sandleton,” Mia said, not taking her eyes from the groom, who kept on complaining about his stomachache, the heat, and his “bleedin’ eyes.”

  “We have about five miles left to travel,” Lord David said.

  She nodded and continued to attend to the coachman.

  “Let me, Miss Castellano. You will ruin your dress.”

  “All the excuse I need to buy a new one.” She brushed at the dirty fabric as she spoke. “I will check and see if the groom is feverish.”

  “Listen to me, Miss Castellano; go no closer to him.”

  She did as he asked despite the rudeness of his command. “If it is some kind of disease then I have already been exposed to it.”

  “Climb up into the coach box. I will join you shortly.”

  She wanted to argue; he could tell by the way she opened her mouth and then pressed her lips together. He never would have guessed that Mia Castellano would be so well behaved in an emergency.

  Once again she tried to brush the dirt and blood from her already ruined dress, and, with a curt nod, she went over to the coach. He would have had to be a eunuch not to enjoy watching her climb onto the top. She had the makings of a fine acrobat, if all else failed her in this world.

  The grooms, both of them, helped the coachman into the traveling chaise. The sick one traveled inside with him, while the healthy one rode Cruces.

  David climbed up beside Miss Castellano, taking up the reins. He could practically see her mind working as she conjured up one deadly illness after another. One that would scar her for life, one that would cripple her, one that left her an invalid.

  He knew her thoughts because his mind was hell-bent on the same course. They needed a distraction, both of them. It did no good to create disaster before it befell them. “I thought I heard you say that you have jumped from a carriage before.”

  “What?” Her puzzlement lasted only a moment. “Oh yes, once, when William agreed to a race to Richmond with me as his passenger. The reins snapped and we both had to jump. I had watched the acrobats at Astley’s Circus and had a fair idea of how to drop and roll. William twisted his ankle quite badly but I did no more than dirty my fingernails.”

  “That sounds like a singularly stupid thing to do. You were both very lucky.” There, that should irritate her, though David did wonder exactly why she watched those female acrobats so carefully.

  “Poor Janina,” Mia began, ignoring his comment. “I wish I had been more kind. She really is ill.”

  They rode in silence until the village came into sight, then Miss Castellano found her voice again. “I will do whatever you want me to do, my lord.”

  This was exactly the kind of person he wanted as second in command on a ship, he thought. Calm, able to act when necessary, but willing to take orders from a superior. He found it rare and impressive in a man, much more so in a woman. The woman whose favorite word was no had disappeared.

  “We will not drive up to the house. I will send the healthy groom for the surgeon and have him meet us at the gate to Sandleton. We will wait there so he can give us his medical insight regarding the coachman and the groom. After he has made his observations I will decide what to do.”

  “Then you think it may be something serious?” She did not wait for him to answer but gave her own suggestion in a whisper. “Smallpox.”

  He did not answer her.

  Chapter Nine

  DIO MIO, SMALLPOX, Mia thought. Panic flooded through her. She wanted to scream and run away as far and as fast as she could. Instead, she folded her hands together to still their shaking and prayed that when they found the surgeon, he would ease her worst fears. It did not have to be smallpox. It could be something else, anything else that would not scar her for life.

  “Please tell me you have had Jenner’s vaccination,” Lord David said, undermining that small bit of hope.

  “Well, during the war in Italy, but my father thought it might be no more than a ruse. The smallpox destroyed whole villages and everyone felt panic. It seemed a miracle that the process should be made available.”

  “It might have been a placebo.”

  “Placebo? That is an English word I do not know.”

  “A placebo is something that is used to soothe while not necessarily effective as medicine.”

  “Yes, yes, exactly. It could have been a placebo.”

  “Then there is the word reconnaissance.”

  “It sounds French, but I am not familiar with that word either.” All of a sudden Lord David could not stop talking.

  “Yes, reconnaissance is another word from my brother Gabriel. It came into use during the war. It means to survey an area before taking action.”

  “You mean the way one might examine the boxes at the theater before deciding whom to visit?”

  “I suppose you could use it that way. What about the word—”

  “Stop!” She put a hand on his arm. “I do not want an English lesson right now, and if you are trying to distract me it is not working.” She would not apologize for her barely civil tone. Mia raised her hand to her lips. “If I could just scream at the top of my voice then I might stay sane for the next hour.”

  “Yes.” Lord David nodded. “I understand.”

  They were the kindest words he had ever said to her and calmed her more than his annoying attempt to distract her.

  They arrived at Sandleton and Lord David jumped down from the driver’s box. He did not offer to help her down and Mia knew why. As much as she liked the feel of being in his arms, the look on his face the last time he’d touched her told her it was a dangerous business. They may have shared a certain physical awareness, but they were mismatched in every other way.

  Before she could tread down the wayward path of wondering what it would be like to make love to a man she did not otherwise care for, she saw the groom approaching, accompanied by a very young man. Mia could hardly credit that one so young could be an experienced surgeon.

  She would not panic. At least not out loud. It would do no good, would not keep her healthy.

  The surgeon did not actually examine the groom or the coachman and maintained a healthy distance from Lord David. Despite that, they spoke so quietly she could not hear what they were saying to each other.

  She wanted to hear every word they exchanged but she stayed in the driver’s box, knowing that her presence would make them more circumspect, as if the truth would send her into hysterics.

  Mia waited with as much patience as God had given her and distracted herself by studying what she could see of Sandleton from the gates. She made mental notes, intending to write to Janina that night. She would describe it to her, let her know that it would be the ideal place to recuperate when she was well enough to travel, and she would reassure her that it was no more than a half day’s trip from the inn in Worcester.

  Daylight remained strong, the air still as early evening settled around them. The house appeared rather small for a ducal estate, but the elegance of the architecture made up for the scale. The symmetry of the façade reminded Mia of the Pennistan house in Richmond, which Janina had especially liked.

  It was redbrick, with a windowed brick pediment at the crown of the top floor. There were four windows, three large and one small, on either side of the front door, which was reached by five shallow steps. Mia preferred a more dramatic entry but she knew Janina liked as few steps as possible since she carried the bundles.<
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  The floor above the ground floor had windows that echoed the ones below, with two over the door that made for a pleasing line. The two chimneys on either end of the house framed it lovingly and rose to an impressive height above the roof.

  Mia preferred the majesty of a grander estate. In a house this size, where did one find privacy? How could one practice on the pianoforte without disturbing the others in residence?

  Mia counted the trees that lined the road leading to the house. Janina would want every detail of the garden so she could tell Romero about it. Her beau knew herbs and fruits, loved to work with anything that grew. According to Janina he knew every tree.

  Mia could not name them but could count twenty trees, ten on each side of the drive, not in a line, but then neither was the road. It angled to the left so that you could not see the house as you approached the gate, but one did have a view from the verge to the left of the gate where the carriage stood now.

  A breeze moved the shrubbery and the leaves on the trees. The sky and the feel of the air promised rain. Not too soon, she hoped.

  When she could stand it no longer, Mia prepared to jump down from the box. She might not be able to hear what the men discussed but she could easily guess the plan.

  She would rescue Janina’s bag and the sweets Romero had given to her and put them somewhere safe until Janina joined them. As Mia stood, gathering her skirts on one hand, she saw Lord David and the surgeon approach her. Lord David introduced the surgeon as Mr. Novins and suggested that she stay up in the driver’s box.

  “Can you tell me when your maid first felt ill, Miss Castellano?”

  Mia explained that Janina did not travel well, but then last evening she had complained of feeling not only sick to her stomach, but also hot. And her body ached.

  “I told the surgeon what the groom said,” Lord David explained. “That his partner was suddenly stricken about twenty minutes before the coachman collapsed and fell.”

  The surgeon turned to Lord David. “I will send a messenger to the house and tell the Cantwells to vacate the premises. Then you, Miss Castellano, and the servants with you, will be quarantined there for seven days. By then we should know if this is a contagion and what kind it is.” Mr. Novins gave Mia his attention. “There will be no greater chance of disease with the quarantine. You have already been exposed to whatever it is.”

  “Smallpox.” Mia could not help the edge to her voice. “You fear we will contract smallpox.”

  “Possibly,” he agreed with maddening calm. “But it could be that all three illnesses are unrelated.”

  “Mr. Novins, that would be entirely too much of a coincidence.” She would not be treated like some stupid chit who did not want to know the truth. Mia hoped her tone made that clear.

  “It would be a surprising coincidence, but not impossible. Or, miss, it is not necessarily smallpox. It could be some other disease.”

  “I think that more likely.” If not any more reassuring.

  Lord David nodded and turned to Mia. “We will not go to Pennford until we know.” He folded his arms across his chest.

  “Of course not.” The thought that he considered her so selfish infuriated her. “I would never take a chance like that. Never. I will do as the surgeon says and count the days.”

  Lord David nodded but his expression conveyed his own dislike of the situation. He would be counting, too.

  “And in the future, my lord, Mr. Novins, do not equivocate because you think I will become hysterical. Anger and hysteria are two different things, which you should know, Lord David, after seeing Janina. She is often hysterical.”

  “Very well, Miss Castellano. I will assume your English and your temperament are up to hearing the details.” The surgeon bowed to her and she nodded back.

  “Lord David?” Mia asked, hoping for equal assurance from him.

  “Miss Castellano, your English is excellent. Your temper, if not your temperament, is legend.”

  She understood that he did not mean that as a compliment.

  “The question remains,” he added, “whether you are up to this challenge. We will know in a week whether you are inclined to hysteria or just temper tantrums.”

  A woman hurrying down the drive distracted them. Without comment Lord David abandoned her and went to meet the newcomer, who wore the dress of a housekeeper.

  It was just as well they had been interrupted. Lord David’s lack of faith hurt and she did not want him to see it.

  “You have handled this crisis with equanimity, Miss Castellano,” Mr. Novins called up from the ground.

  “Thank you, Mr. Novins.” How lovely that even in this dark moment, someone appreciated her. “It has been a difficult trip.”

  “I have every confidence that you will arrive at your destination safely, if later than you hoped.” Mr. Novins took a step closer, which meant he had to crane his neck even more. “I will look forward to speaking with you when the quarantine ends.”

  She smiled with all the charm she could muster. “Thank you, Mr. Novins.”

  He blushed and managed a “You’re welcome.”

  Mr. Novins counted as one of the sweet ones, Mia decided. He deserved better than someone who could turn him to her bidding so easily. Maybe he already had someone special in his life.

  “Will Mrs. Novins worry about you or is she used to the unexpected?”

  “There is no Mrs. Novins.” His expression firmed. “Not anymore.”

  “Oh, I am so sorry to mention a painful subject. You are widowed.” Mortified, she closed her eyes and wished she could disappear.

  “No, no, I beg your pardon, Miss Castellano. An engagement. I had hoped to be engaged this summer.”

  She wondered if his young lady had shared the hope. Before Mia could decide how to find out details, the housekeeper reached the gate. She spoke from the other side of the wrought-iron rails. She listened to Lord David and when she answered him, she spoke in a raised voice so that Mia and the surgeon could hear easily.

  “I will not leave the house, my lord. I have had the vaccination for smallpox and will stay to serve you and your guest, and care for the ones who are ill.”

  “Very good, Mrs. Cantwell, as long as you are aware that we do not yet know what disease this may be. There are any number for which there is no vaccination.”

  Typhus, plague, influenza. Mia listed them silently.

  Mrs. Cantwell looked surprised. “It does not matter, my lord. I understand and will stay. I will never give up my post.”

  Lord David seemed to expect no less. “And Mr. Cantwell?”

  “He will stay, but he has not had the vaccination.” The housekeeper’s expression conveyed such disgust that she did not have to add the words “He knew it would hurt.”

  “Hmm” was Lord David’s only response at first, but then he nodded firmly. “Mr. Cantwell will leave the house immediately and stay in the village. Tomorrow he will ride to Pennford with a message from me advising the duke of our delay.”

  “Lord David,” Mia began.

  He glanced at her. “I’ll talk to you in a minute.”

  “Oh, really.” Mia expected his dismissal, but she still felt mortally embarrassed. “Then I’ll climb down and stand over there with the groom until you have time to give us instructions.”

  “Yes,” he said, missing her sarcasm.

  Dio mio, she thought. She was joking, but he had every intention of treating her like one of the servants!

  Mia climbed down from the conveyance, on the side away from curious eyes. There were more important considerations at the moment, like their possible death. And whether the chaperone would be willing to stay.

  Mr. Novins nodded to her but did not approach or offer his arm. She accepted the separation as necessary because of the threat of illness and addressed her greatest concern.

  “Mr. Novins, do you not think that someone should return to the inn where we stayed last night to see if my maid improves and if anyone else has taken ill?” Sh
e spoke in a rush, afraid that he would interrupt before she made her point. “If it is some contagion, it started there or even at the first posting house.” Mia thought of Miss Cole and her odious brother. She prayed they were well away from any infection.

  “Yes, you are quite right. Someone should be sent. I will discuss it with Lord David.”

  “No, Mr. Novins, I will discuss it with Lord David.”

  The surgeon nodded so readily that Mia suspected he feared the dreaded hysterics from her. Or Lord David’s reputation had preceded him.

  “I can understand your upset, Miss Castellano, but I suspect that Lord David’s concern for you is what makes him less than understanding.”

  “Thank you,” she said with skepticism, turning away from him to go and wait with the other outcasts.

  “In addition,” he went on, seeming not to have noticed her simmering anger, “men like Lord David are too used to controlling their world to face mortality with equanimity.”

  “And the same cannot be said for women?” Mia stopped short, and faced him again with her challenge, her irritation now expanding to include all men.

  “No, it cannot. Women face death in childbirth. They learn from their first confinement that death is only a breath away.”

  Mr. Novins’s gloomy words reminded her of Elena. Mia wondered if her guardian worried as much as her husband did about the impending birth of their first child. Now there would be one more worry added.

  “Here comes Lord David.” Mr. Novins raised a hand, acknowledging him. As Mia watched him approach, Lord David did not take his eyes off her. He looked aggravated, as though he did not approve of something she was doing, had done, or would do. Well, why disappoint him?

  “I look forward to more such conversations with you, Mr. Novins. It’s a joy to meet such a true gentleman.”

  “Miss Castellano. Mr. Novins.” Lord David nodded to both of them. “I will send a letter advising the duke that the quarantine is only a precaution.” He took a moment to look quite pointedly at Mr. Novins. “Novins, wait to be sent for. I do not want you to court illness unnecessarily even for company as tempting as Miss Castellano’s.”