Death at Dawn - Caro Peacock [124]
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
He staggered under the weight of her. I pushed the door shut and ran to help him. Over her head, his anxious eyes met mine. We joined our hands behind her back and half-dragged, half-carried her along the passage, sideways on because there wasn’t room for three abreast. After a minute or so she began to recover consciousness.
‘It was him.’
‘Don’t worry about that now,’ Daniel said. ‘We’ll see you safe.’
By the time we reached the stairs she was capable of walking, slowly and shakily. With me leading the way and Daniel murmuring encouragement from behind we managed to get her back to my room. I brought water for her, got her to lie down on the bed and loosened her stays, while Daniel waited on the landing outside. When she seemed calmer, I covered her over with the blanket and went outside to him.
‘I blame myself,’ he whispered. ‘I didn’t know it would be such a shock.’
‘Daniel …’
‘I should have made more allowances for her weakness. The poor woman’s been drugged, probably for days on end, and half starved. Simply identifying Kilkeel was too much for her.’
‘Daniel, that wasn’t her trouble.’
‘Of course it was. She simply took one look at the brute and fainted dead away.’
‘Just seeing Kilkeel again wouldn’t have affected her so strongly. After all, she knew he was here. He was the one who brought her here, remember.’
‘Well, what was the trouble then? Libby, why are you looking like that?’
‘Because it wasn’t Kilkeel she meant,’ I said.
‘Libby, I simply don’t understand you.’
In honesty, I scarcely understood myself. In a few minutes the world had turned upside down again. My mind was moving so fast that I didn’t know where it was leading me next.
‘I will explain, but later. One of us must stay with her all the time. Could you come back, do you think, after you’ve played the first set of dances?’
‘Why? What will you be doing?’
‘Celia Mandeville’s eloping. I’ve promised to help her.’
Until then, I’d kept her secret. Now I needed Daniel’s help so much I couldn’t hide it from him. He groaned.
‘Leave them to their own problems.’
‘She’s been kind to me. I owe her this at least.’
It was more than that, but I couldn’t tell Daniel or he’d try to stop me. I did my best to reassure him, telling him my part in the proceedings would be over as soon as I’d escorted Celia down the back road. He wanted to come with us, but I refused.
‘You must stay here with Mrs Martley. Then we have to find some means of getting her away safely.’
‘Didn’t you mention a horse?’
‘I don’t think she’s capable of riding. We need a vehicle. Perhaps Amos Legge will think of something.’
We settled it that Daniel should rejoin his musicians and play through dinner. After dinner they’d give the first and, he hoped, only performance of Welcome Home. He’d direct the orchestra for the first set of dances, then leave them to his deputy again.
‘I shall owe that man a year of favours. Still, what must be done must be done. You’re terribly pale, child. I wish you’d let me …’
‘I’ll be well enough. Go now.’
Mrs Martley was asleep when I went back inside. Now and then she muttered, ‘No, no,’ in her sleep and turned her face sideways into the pillow. I sat by the bed looking down at her tired and lined face, with the clamour of the kitchens drifting faintly from below us. Once she opened her eyes and focused on me.
‘It was him. His voice.’
‘You’re sure of it?’
‘Yes.’
She slept again. After the stable clock had struck nine and the small rectangle of sky through the window was turning to dusk, Daniel came back. We spoke on the landing.
‘I’ve found a way of moving her,’ he said. ‘The tenor insists on going back to Windsor tonight. He says another night in the pavilion on a camp bed will ruin his voice. He’s a fool, but I said he owed it to the world of music not to take the risk. So he’s bribing somebody from the stables to have a vehicle of sorts ready. She’ll manage to walk as far as