Regency High Society Vol 3: Beloved Virago / Lord Trenchard's Choice / The Unruly Chaperon / Colonel Ancroft's Love

Daniel assured her that it was nothing, barely a scratch, but made no demur when she insisted that he remove his cloak and jacket, and then his shirt, because the wound was too high up on the arm to reach by merely rolling up the sleeve.

Obligingly, he pulled the linen garment over his head, sending his dark brown hair into disarray. It was by no means the first time Katherine had seen a person of the opposite sex in a state of undress. Many a time when she had lived in Ireland she had seen men remove their shirts on warm summer days before they had attempted to groom one of her father’s fine horses. So the sight of dark hair covering a well-muscled chest came as no surprise to her whatsoever. What sent a shock wave rippling through her, however, bringing her almost to the verge of tears, was the clear evidence of past suffering, and unmistakable bravery.

Without conscious thought, she reached out and began to trace the path of the longest scar, which ran from his right shoulder almost down to his pelvis, only to have her fingers swiftly captured in a firm yet gentle clasp.

‘What is it, Katherine?’ Daniel wasn’t slow to detect long lashes moistened by tears barely held in check. ‘What has occurred to upset you?’

‘I-I feel so very ashamed.’ Her voice was little more than a shaky whisper, but there was no mistaking the heartfelt contrition it contained. ‘So very ashamed that I ever thought so badly of you; that I foolishly attempted to hold you responsible for dear Helen’s death, when I always knew deep down that it wasn’t your fault.’

Although she didn’t attempt to draw her hand from his, she seemed unwilling, or unable, to meet his gaze, and her complexion had grown worryingly quite ashen. He didn’t doubt her sincerity, but was puzzled by the admission. He had been inclined to dismiss her dislike of him as nothing more than a pampered young woman’s childish spite. Now that he had come to know her a little better he was certain that that initial judgement had been sadly flawed. She was no foolish ninnyhammer prone to take a pet for no reason. Far more, he now realised, lay behind her former conduct towards him.

‘Why were you so determined to dislike me, Katherine?’ There was no response. Undeterred, he added, ‘Come, do you not think that the man you’ve treated with such contempt on occasions deserves an explanation?’

This succeeded in drawing her eyes briefly to his, before she turned her attention to his most recent injury. ‘Because it was far easier to blame you than myself,’ she finally admitted, astonishing him somewhat.

Removing her hand from his at last, Katherine delved into the pocket of her skirt for her handkerchief, and proceeded to dab at the wound, which blessedly was little more than a scratch. ‘I’m a scourge, Daniel. Everyone I have ever loved, or cared for deeply, every person with whom I have lived, has died. I tried to convince myself that Helen, at least, might have survived had she not lost the will to do so because she was mooning like a lovesick fool over you. It was grossly unfair of me to try to pin the blame on you. She was far too immature to capture a gentleman’s interest. I suspect you were hardly aware of her existence … just as you were hardly aware of mine when I lived with my grandfather for those few short months. How I wish now that I had never resided in Dorsetshire!’

Not knowing quite how to respond, and feeling confused by these startling disclosures, Daniel remained silent as he watched her rise to her feet, and move in that graceful way of hers over to the tiny stream which gurgled its way through the woodland just a few yards from where he sat.

He didn’t doubt for a moment that for some obscure reason she was determined to hold herself in some way responsible for the deaths of her grandfather and her friend, and possibly her parents too. He had no idea how Mr and Mrs O’Malley had met their maker, but there was no mystery about Colonel Fairchild’s demise, and Helen Rushton was by no means the only person to succumb to that outbreak of smallpox. Unless he was mistaken, her mother had perished too. So why was Katherine so determined to blame herself?

Although he would be forced to admit that, as yet, he didn’t know her very well, he wouldn’t have supposed for a moment that she was a young woman prone to indulging in foolish flights of fancy. So what deep-rooted fear was persuading her to believe such absolute nonsense? There was something … there simply had to be! And he was determined to discover precisely what that something was.

Deciding not to press her for an explanation quite yet, and thereby risk damaging the rather sweet rapport which had surprisingly developed between them, he changed the subject the instant she returned by remarking that he was relieved to see that the sight of blood didn’t turn her queasy. ‘Not that I’m unduly surprised,’ he added, bestowing a look of the utmost respect upon her, as she began to dab at the slight wound with the handkerchief which she had soaked in the clear waters of the stream. ‘Any young woman who possesses the courage to do what you did back there in that village isn’t likely to flinch at the sight of a little blood.’

She cast him a distinctly rueful smile. ‘You may as well know now that I have been cursed with an appalling temper, Major. I’ve learned to control it over the years … well, at least for the most part,’ she added, incurably truthful. ‘But the sight of those four men setting about you made me fume. Damnable cowards!’

‘And you came to my aid without any thought for your own safety,’ he murmured, experiencing a wealth of oddly contrasting emotions which left him not quite knowing whether he wished to kiss or shake her for doing such a foolhardy yet courageous thing. ‘Wellington could have done with you out in the Peninsula, my girl. Who did you say taught you to handle firearms, by the way?’

‘My father,’ she reminded him, before asking if he had a handkerchief about his person.

He delved into the pocket of his breeches and drew out a square of linen, which she promptly pressed over the cleaned wound. ‘You’re a damned fine shot. You’d have made an excellent rifleman had you been a boy.’

This time he didn’t miss the faintly sheepish expression, and was puzzled by it until she announced, ‘It’s no good. My conscience simply won’t permit me to allow you to continue to view me as some sort of wonder woman. I’ve discovered today that I’m not that good a shot.’

He raised his brows at this. ‘You managed to down that rogue who was doing his level best to get away,’ he reminded her.

‘Yes, and no,’ she responded, confounding him still further, before once again casting him a glance from beneath long lashes. ‘Did you not notice the inn sign lying in the road?’

‘I noticed something, certainly.’

Katherine decided to confess before she had a chance to change her mind. ‘Well, the truth of the matter is … I hit the sign, shattering its hinge, and the sign hit him, plump on the head.’

For several moments Daniel regarded her in silence, then he threw back his head and roared with laughter. The woodland area surrounding them resounded with the infectious sound, and Katherine found it impossible not to laugh herself.

‘It isn’t that funny!’ she chided gently, regaining control first. ‘I was mortified, I can tell you, when I saw that dratted sign fall. My aim has never been so awry before.’

‘I doubt anyone would have stood the remotest chance of hitting his mark with that monstrous weapon,’ he assured her, as she rose to her feet and blithely tore a strip off the bottom of her underskirt.

The sight of a neatly turned ankle, swiftly followed by the renewed touch of those gentle fingers on his arm, as she deftly wound the strip of material over his handkerchief, certainly put a further strain on his self-control. Desperate to turn his thoughts in a new direction, he searched about for something, anything, that might take his mind off earthy masculine desires, and his gaze swiftly fell upon her bloodstained handkerchief, lying on the ground.

Reaching for it, and earning himself a stern reprimand in the process for not sitting still, he studied the beautifully embroidered monogram in one corner. ‘Is this your stitch-work, Katherine?’

‘No. Bridie embroidered it. She was my nursemaid when I was a child,’ she explained when he raised an enquiring brow. ‘Now she’s my personal maid … housekeeper … you name it.’

‘What does the “F” stand for?’

A moment’s silence, then, ‘Fairchild.’ She grimaced. ‘I’ve Bridie to thank for that too!’ she informed him, her disgruntled tone evidence enough that she wasn’t best pleased. ‘Apparently she took one look at me and announced that I was the fairest child she’d ever set eyes on. My mother, much struck by this, as it happened to be her maiden name, decided it would be most appropriate, and as Papa had chosen my Christian name he allowed her to have her way.’

‘Fairchild,’ he echoed. ‘Yes, it suits you. It suits you very well.’

Half-suspecting him of mockery, Katherine paused in her tying of the makeshift bandage to cast him a suspicious glance. ‘There, that should hold,’ she announced, reaching for his shirt. ‘Hurry and get dressed. I don’t want you taking a chill on top of everything else.’

The garment was stained with blood, but he had no choice but to put it back on. Neither of them had a change of clothes, which, Katherine mused, didn’t appear to trouble Daniel to any great extent; but she knew it would begin to irk her unbearably if she was forced to remain in the same garments for any length of time. She wasn’t accustomed to going without meals either. Not a morsel of food had passed her lips since the previous evening, and she was now beginning to feel decidedly peckish.

Refraining from bringing this to his attention, she merely seated herself on the fallen tree. Despite the fact that Daniel’s injury was, as he had stated himself, only slight, and she didn’t suppose any complications would arise as a result of it, he was still looking slightly flushed, so it could do no harm to let him rest for a while.

Evidently he was of a similar mind, for he made himself more comfortable, and very soon afterwards closed his eyes. Katherine sat quietly beside him for a while, content to gaze at their pretty surroundings, which were thankfully betraying clear signs that spring had arrived. Then her stomach elected to remind her quite noisily that she required something to eat, and she decided it was time to do something about it.

Chapter Eight

The glade was pleasantly sheltered from the gusty wind that earlier had gathered strength across the open countryside, hindering their flight from the village. The March sun too was surprisingly warm, and Daniel had found little difficulty in dozing. The slight dizziness that had induced him to rest for a while seemed mercifully to have passed, and he was sufficiently restored now to recommence their cross-country trek to Normandy.

He turned his head, expecting to see his darling companion once again sitting on the trunk of the tree beside him, and was faintly surprised to discover no sign of her. Earlier, when a slight sound had disturbed him, he had opened one eye to catch her slipping quietly away. He had resisted the temptation to call out and ask where she was going. She might be a damnably brave little soul to have come to his aid, he reflected, but he suspected that, for all her innate courage, she would find it acutely embarrassing to admit that she was forced to answer a call of nature.

Women! Smiling to himself, he shook his head. He would never understand them. A jumbled mass of contradictions was what they were. At least, he silently amended, that red-haired little darling most certainly was. One moment snapping a fellow’s nose off for absolutely no reason; the next a ministering angel, touchingly concerned and tending to his every need. Yet, for all her contrariness, he could think of no other female of his acquaintance whom he would prefer to have with him on this assignment. Come to that, he could think of no other woman, with the possible exception of his late grandmother, who would have possessed sufficient courage to do what Katherine Fairchild O’Malley had done that morning. Not to put too fine a point on it, she had in all probability saved his life—foolhardy, perhaps, but worthy of the utmost admiration.

And where the deuce had the damnable little firebrand got to? Sitting upright, Daniel consulted his pocket-watch. How much time did it take a female to perform some simple bodily function? She had been gone twenty minutes or more, for heaven’s sake!

He rose to his feet and began to scan the surrounding woodland area, his sharp eyes searching for any slight movement that could not be attributed to natural rustling resulting from the wind. All seemed still and silent, except for the singing of birds, and occasional scurrying noises in the undergrowth.

His first instinct was to go in search of her, but wiser counsel prevailed. If she returned to find him gone, he very much feared that she wouldn’t hesitate to go wandering off again, looking for him, and get herself hopelessly lost or, worse still, walk straight into the hands of those whom they were trying their utmost to avoid, if indeed she had not done so already.

Concern increased with every passing second, and he had almost reached the point where he felt he had no choice but to search for her, when his sharp ears caught the sound of humming, and a moment later he glimpsed her weaving a path through the trees, appearing as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ he demanded, resorting to the fierce tone he had adopted when dealing with any foolhardy, raw recruit under his command. She regarded him in mild surprise, but didn’t appear unduly chastened which, perversely, only served to stoke the fires of his wrath. ‘Haven’t you more sense, girl, than to go wandering off by yourself? You might easily have walked straight into the hands of those villains engaged to capture us!’

Intrigued rather than incensed by this display of ill humour, Katherine held the hard-eyed gaze. She strongly suspected that this surprising show of annoyance on his part stemmed from anxiety over her well-being, and she was faintly moved by his evident concern.

‘Oh, come now, Major Ross, be reasonable,’ she urged gently, in an attempt to placate him. ‘How many spies do you suppose there are in France? It was highly unlikely that I would have come across any more.’

‘God give me strength!’ Daniel clapped a hand over his eyes. ‘You don’t imagine for a moment that those four villains we encountered back there were spies, do you?’

‘Were they not?’ Katherine couldn’t in all honesty say that she’d given the matter much thought. ‘Who were they then, do you suppose?’

‘Rogues hired to search for us, you damnable little idiot!’ he snapped, which clearly proved that her soothing manner had not achieved the desired result. He removed his hand to glower down at her yet again, as she calmly seated herself on the trunk of the fallen tree. ‘Be under no illusions, girl,’ he warned. ‘Should you fall into their hands, they won’t be over-nice in their dealings with you.’

Her shrug of indifference wasn’t likely to improve his state of mind, but Katherine was beyond caring. She considered that she’d had reason enough to venture forth on her own. ‘Well, I don’t suppose it’s very likely that any others who might be in search of us would be able to pick me out amongst the throng.’