The Art Of Retaliation (Work In Progress)

Chapter Four


My illness was to grow worse before the night was out. I did not expect Lord Ramsay to stay or show me any more thought and consideration than he had already done. After all I was his captive and not his guest. Yet I woke in the early hours of the morning in a restless burning fever to find him covering my burning brow with a cold damp compress. There was another person with him sitting on the other side of the bed.

'I do not know why you take such care over our hostage? Let the maid see to her,' a female voice bemoaned.

Lord Ramsay sounded impatient and annoyed by the woman's company.

'Because it is my fault she is in such dangerously ill health.'

'Ah, so it is guilt that motivates you, brother. You should not worry yourself so much. If our sister dies in Lord Dashwood's care as we fear then Lady Dashwood's death will be an eye for an eye,' she spitefully remarked.

'Lucinda,' Lord Ramsay's voice was a deep reprimand. 'Take your malice and leave us, now.'

'No, I shall not. I only speak the truth.'

'No, you only speak of your jealousy for the affections of Lord Simon. If she was to die you believe he might take more than a passing interest in you and consider you a worthy bride.'

'Really, Peter,' she mocked. 'Do you believe me so callous and calculating?'

'Yes. I have no doubt of it Lucinda. But know this, as your brother and head of this family, if Lord Simon was to ever offer you a proposal of marriage I would forbid it.'

'Peter, how could you be so . . .' there was petulance in her voice. 'I should elope then. You would not stop me.'

'I would, Lucinda. I would do all in my power to stop you marrying such a rake.'

'How can you speak of your friend with such distaste?'

'He is no longer my friend.'

My eyes flickered open and closed as Lord Ramsay removed the compress from my forehead and dipped it into the cooling water beside him. I heard him drain the excess water from the cloth as his sister spoke once more.

'I thought your disagreement was healed.'

I felt the cool cloth descend upon my forehead once more.

'No. He is a cad. No woman should be bound to a man like him.'

'Not even, the beautiful Lady Dashwood here?' I could hear the sarcastic humour in her voice.

But Lord Ramsay was quick and forthright in his answer.

'No. He is unworthy of her.'

There was a small laugh of triumph from Lucinda. I moved restlessly in the bed and found myself tenderly hushed by Lord Ramsay as he moved the cold cloth around my burning countenance.

'I do believe you have fallen for your captive, Peter. How priceless! How are you going to be able to give her to Lord Simon? ' she cruelly teased.

'It won't come to that. Lord Dashwood will return Kate and the matter will be resolved,' he said firmly.

'I would not count so hard on your hopes of restitution. I have it on good authority that Lord Dashwood only cares for his sister's money. If he marries Kate he will have easier access to her wealth as her husband and will have no need of devising devious plots to obtain his sister's. You will have no choice but to carry out your threat for the sake of our family's honour and your promise to Lord Simon. If you do not give her to him when Lord Dashwood disappoints you, he will disgrace our family by revealing our plot to everyone in London society. I cannot bear the very idea. You dice with our lives.'

'Hush, Lucinda. I won't allow it to come to that.'

'Well, brother. You will have to tell Lord Simon that when he arrives tomorrow.'

'Lucinda, what have you done? I did not want him here.'

'Are you worried he will frighten your charge. It will do her good to know that we mean to carry out our threat. Perhaps it will assist her to convince her brother to have a heart and rescue her by returning Kate.'

'You are nothing but a spiteful child, Lucinda. On whose authority did you invite that man to our home? I will not be disobeyed as head of this family,' Lord Ramsay bellowed.

'May I remind you that you are only head of this family because my father, your stepfather is ill. I invited Lord Simon to the ball we are to hold. Remember? The ball we hold every year for Christmas? Lord Simon will be so pleased to see her. I've heard he has a surprise planned for their meeting and impending nuptials . . .'

Lord Ramsay gave an impatient sigh and rose to his feet and walked around the other side of the bed reaching to take hold of Lucinda's arm. She gave a frightened squeal as he pulled her up from the bed with his tight grip and marched her to the door to push her through it. I heard the key turn in the lock and then he was sitting back on the bed by my side.

I wanted to find a way to move, to free myself. I would not be bound to that monstrous man, Lord Simon for an eternity in a violent marriage. I would be no man's slave and that was all the wretch wanted from any woman. I tuned away from Lord Ramsay wanting to weep with rage at my unfortunate situation and Lucinda's cruel words. Lord Ramsay's cool, gentling fingers swept around my face and stroked gently over my cheek.

'Do not worry so. I will not allow Lord Simon to harm you. I know he has treated you most ill. Please be assured of my protection.'

'But I cannot. How can I trust a man who holds my freedom in his hands?'

Lord Ramsay was suitably silent as he removed the compress once more and soaked it again. He would not speak anymore on the subject. I wonder what more could be said. A terrible coughing fit overtook me and for a moment I found it difficult to catch my breath. I began to fear for my condition.

'I must get the doctor from Rosalind's room. I am worried for you, Lady Dashwood,' I heard him say.

'Yes,' I coughed sitting up with his help. 'You would not want your hostage to die.'

'You are unfair and unkind to me, Lady Dashwood.'

I watched him move quickly to the door and shout for the maid outside to fetch the doctor. I was to sit forward caught in a coughing fit.

'I fear your chill may have developed into pneumonia,' he informed me, returning to his loyal position by my side and rubbed my back in a soothing, comforting action.

I was unhappy to be touched by him or his kindness and flinched away but he was unrelenting.

'Please, Lady Dashwood I beg you not to spur my comfort. I mean you no harm and you are in need of assistance.'

'I do not need your help. Perhaps I will die tonight and escape you, sir,' I said feeling a rise of fear and pity for my situation. I did not feel well at all and considered I might die, just as my mother had done two years ago from the same illness.

'Do not talk of such things. I will not allow you to die. You must think of a better way to escape me, Lady Dashwood.'

He had made a concerted effort to punctuate his conversation with humour but fear for my life reigned uppermost in his tone. I was surprised. Maybe it was guilt or was it attraction as Lucinda had spoke of. I did not want to debate the idea in my aching mind any further that night. If I was to live then perhaps I could give my thoughts more consideration. Instead I tried to rally myself.

'Indeed, Lord Ramsay,' I answered breathlessly. 'I will work hard to find a way of escape from this castle. I am cunning and I never give up.'

'I have no doubt of it. You are a determined woman. That I gathered from the moment we first met in your carriage. I can do nothing else but admire you for it. But Rawnsley Castle is surrounded by a moat and the bridge will be guarded. I look forward to thwarting any brilliant scheme you devise to gain your freedom.'

The doctor entered the room and he moved away.

'I will succeed. I won't stop until I and Rosalind are free.'

He nodded.

'Then there will be no more talk of dying , Lady Dashwood. I look forward to our duel of sorts.'

The doctor was to confirm that I was indeed now suffering from pneumonia and I was in need of constant care. Lord Ramsay took on that care himself. Throughout the night he was to feed me water, soothe my hot brow with a compress and bestow me with comfort.

A fit of uncontrollable shivers overtook me and I suddenly found him taking the liberty of sitting behind me to hold my violently moving body back against his chest. His arms wound around me tight and eventually I calmed.

He pressed my head against his chest and leaned back against the pillows taking me with him, instructing me to sleep. Despite the impropriety of his hold and against my better judgement I found solace in his embrace and allowed sleep to overtake me, wondering if I would wake to the morning light.