The Art Of Retaliation (Work In Progress)

Chapter Two


Our journey was long and uncomfortable because of the stiff composure I maintained in Lord Ramsay's hold. It seemed to stretch on into the night as we emerged from the forest and rode across an abundance of green fields. I confess I thought our travels would never come to an end and to make matters worse the weather was against us.

A sudden down pour of cold rain descended upon us and lightening illuminated the clouded dark sky above us. I rubbed at my arms in the hope of providing myself with a little warmth but there was none to be had. The rain soaked through to my skin and drove against my face in the biting wind that accompanied it's assault upon us. I began to shiver in my damp clothes and wished that I had not left my bonnet in the carriage.

'Lady Dashwood, please lean against me so I might afford you some protection from the weather,' Lord Ramsay insisted with concern. But I was to refuse him.

'I will not, sir. I do not need your protection, ' I told him heartily doing my best to still my shivers and my childish fear of the loud thunder that made me jump as it rumbled over head.

He gave an impatient sigh and tightened the grip on my waist he had allowed to slacken on our journey. I found myself sliding along the saddle to nestle in the enclosure of his arms. I was most perturbed and attempted to remedy my situation moving to separate us once more. But he was not to allow my freedom.

'You will catch a chill and I do not wish to see you ill, madam. Whatever you think of my actions. You will remain still and lean back against me,' He smiled down at me with nothing short of cruel mischief at my blushing features when with gentle but firm fingers he guided the side of my face towards his chest and held me there.

'Contrary to popular belief, Lady Dashwood, I do not bite. Rest assure you are quite safe against me. I promise your virtue will stay intact,' he mocked.

Had I not shivered so much I would have offered him a retort but my eyes in the glance I gave up towards him were to display my annoyance to my satisfaction. To my dismay he was to laugh at me before making his horse go faster across the field and I was forced to hang on to him for fear of falling.

A large castle loomed dark and foreboding against the back drop of lightening. I found that I had been lulled into sleep by the horse's movement. Still not quite awake I jumped in Lord Ramsay's arms when I set my eyes upon the fearsome sight believing I was lost in one of Mrs Radcliffe's literary gothic masterpieces. Suitably embarrassed I attempted to raise myself to an upright position but was stopped with the gentle push of Lord Ramsay's hand against my brow.

'Shhh, Lady Dashwood, do not stir yourself,' he whispered softly to me. 'We have nearly arrived at my home.' His cool hand pressed against my brow as he glanced down at me. He frowned. 'I fear you are a little feverish. You must have caught a chill . . .'

'No really I am fine. I have been recovering from a short bout of illness recently. I had been staying at Rosalind's home when I took ill. I had considered myself fit for travel home when you found me. It will pass. It is merely a small flare up.'

'Nevertheless, Lady Dashwood, I will not take any chances with your health. I will send for the doctor immediately.'

'It is nothing, sir, just a cold.'

'I will let Doctor Briggs be the judge of that. You are wet through it is no wonder you are ill. I am sorry for it. The storm came upon us unexpectedly.'

I said no more and there was silence between us until we came upon the castle and the large moat that surrounded it. A long narrow wooden bridge connected the castle to the mainland. We raced across it followed quickly by the others and under a covered archway into the central gravel courtyard.

'Welcome to my home, Lady Dashwood. I hope you will be comfortable here for your stay. Although I pray it will be a short one and not too much to your inconvenience.'

Lord Ramsay brought his horse to a halt just outside a large portico. He dismounted and I could see that he was also soaked through but his immediate concern appeared to be myself. He reached up and I held on to his arms as he gently lifted my tired body to the ground. He led me inside and viewed me critically.

'No, lady Dashwood, you do not look well. I will have the servants run you a hot bath and then it is too bed to await the doctor's arrival.'

'No please, I assure you I am fine . . .'

But my sentence was not to be finished. The fair headed man who had carried Rosalind on his horse appeared from behind me carrying her in his arms. Her countenance bore a deathly pale colour that quite alarmed both myself and Lord Ramsay.

'I fear she is gravely ill with a chill or perhaps worse, Peter. We must send for the doctor without further delay,' he told Lord Ramsay as he passed.

The servants flustered around the man, ushering him through the portico and into the castle to sweep up a large grand staircase as a footman ran to the stables to charge a stable boy with fetching the doctor. I lifted the bottom of my dress to climb the stairs and quite forgot where I was and what I was doing, too afraid and concerned for my close friend's health. She had not been feeling too well just this morning but had insisted on accompanying me home and staying for Christmas. She did not like to think of me alone in the vast draughty country house my family called home when the festivities began. I confess I was to be glad of her company.

Lord Ramsay was quick to follow me and I was thankful he did not reproach me for my hasty presumption. My own legs felt week as I broached the top of the stairs and a wave of heat brushed across my skin making me falter. I continued to follow the group to one of the rooms and prepared to enter when the enclosed hallway began to spin and sway before my eyes. Taken aback my step wavered and I found myself stumbling.

Lord Ramsay's arm was once again around my waist and his free hand came to steady my balance with his hold upon my arm.

'Thank you, sir, now please, I must go to Rosalind.'

'No, Lady Dashwood, you are ill and must take rest in bed. You are soaked through. You may go to her tomorrow. My servants and family will take good care of your friend, I assure you,' his voice was gentle and coaxing, mindful of the distress his instruction was to cause.

'Really, sir, I must go to her. She will need me.'

'My brother Patrick will make sure she is well taken care of. It is my duty to see that you are. Now I will hear no more of your protestations. Come let me help you to your room.'

I was beginning to learn that Lord Ramsay was not accustomed to being questioned or for that matter disobeyed and I was given no choice but to allow him to lead me to my room, two doors away from Rosalind's.

Two servants bustled ahead of us to prepare a hot bath.

'I will not be kept from Rosalind. Please allow me to go to her,' I insisted hearing a sudden cry of distress emanate from her room.

'No. Must I repeat the reason for my action. I am concerned for your health and I will not be deterred,' he ordered.

I struggled but the room was to sway before my eyes again. I put my hand to my head, disturbed by my vision and found myself lifted into the air and carried into my room. I was put down on the side of the bed without ceremony.

'Now that you are safe in your room, Lady Dashwood, please allow me to take my leave of you and make sure that the doctor has been sent for. Lord Ramsay waited for my permission to give him leave. I nodded and he gave a bow to excuse himself. He left the room and to my fright locked the door behind him.

My wet clothes were removed from my body by a maid and I was made to get into the bath. I sank my body beneath the water and allowed my chilled bones to warm through. I tried to put my worrying thoughts for Rosalind to the side hoping my trust in Lord Ramsay was not unworthy when I heard the door to my dressing room being opened.

I expected the maid to enter but it was Lord Ramsay himself. I sank further under the water as he appeared in the doorway casually leaning against the door frame as though he had entered the dressing room of many a female acquaintance before. He had changed his clothing but his dark hair was wet and flat against his head. I had to acknowledge that it only served to make his appearance more handsome. But I was angry that I had care to note it when his manners regarding my privacy was so flaunted by his conduct.

'I trust you are a little warmer in your bath, Lady Dashwood.'

'Yes I am, sir, but what is the meaning of this scandalous intrusion?' I asked with affront.

I gave a gasp of indignation as he laughed and moved from the doorway to come and kneel at my side. The man was not fit for polite society despite his birth and title.

Lord Ramsay sat back and leaned his arm on one bent knee. He viewed me with interest. I made every attempt to hide my nakedness under the water but I wondered if my attempt had been as successful as I hoped when I watched his gaze drift momentarily downwards not once, or twice but thrice. Insufferable man.

'I only came in because the maid was needed to attend your friend Rosalind. You are unwell and close to fainting.' I was treated to the devilish but handsome wickedness of his smile. 'I would not forgive myself if anything were to happen to you whilst alone. For instance . . .' he paused to reach his fingers into the water. I gave an involuntary squeal and did all I could to curl and cover my body away from his hand in the water. He made no move to pay my nervousness any attention but surprised me by looking upon me with seriousness. 'What if you were to faint in the bath, Lady Dashwood? Only to sink under the water and drown. I would not forgive myself.'

'I want to get out now, sir,' I informed him nervously hoping this would entreat him to leave.

He glanced into the water and then turned back to me. He studied me. I turned away unable to bear his scrutiny.

'I have heard of your beauty. It is famous amongst London society but there is a softness and paleness to your countenance that I have not seen on any other woman. I have never seen eyes the colour of golden honey. They compliment your flaxen hair. You are indeed a very beautiful woman, Lady Dashwood. It is only a pity that your soul and conduct do not hold the same bearing?'

I felt the sting of his verbal cut and my eyes filled with hurtful tears that I would not allow to spill and give him the satisfaction of his cruelty.

'You do me an injustice, sir,' I told him with angry defiance.

He would not comment.

'You are looking feverish again. I believe it is time you were in bed. Now I wonder where Louise keeps the linen bath towels?' he teased knowing it would cause me further embarrassment.

I closed my eyes with impatience.

'Please, sir, leave me in peace and I will attend to myself.'

He turned back to me, a towel now in his hand, amusement playing upon his lips.

'Nonsense, I will not have you left alone.'

'Sir, have you no manners?' I pleaded with cross indignation.

He raised a dark eyebrow. 'Come don't be shy, Lady Dashwood. You will not betray anything I have not seen upon a woman many times before.'

'Then I shall remain in the bath until you leave,' I vowed and sat in silence hoping he would retreat with boredom after a while.

'Come now, you cannot stay in the bath forever. You will come out wrinkled. I am sure you would not like that,' he laughed.

'I will not move until you leave. I am resigned upon it, sir.'

He gave a sigh.

'Then I shall have to remove you myself before you catch more cold.' He walked towards me.

'No.'

The door opened and to my relief Louise the maid entered the room. She looked at Lord Ramsay with shock but he was to ignore it as appeared to be his custom when anyone disapproved of his actions. He handed her the towel and addressed me once more.

'I will leave you in peace to dress for bed but I will wait outside the door. I am not leaving until I have made sure you are in bed and awaiting the doctor's arrival.'