Rescued By The Forbidden Rake

‘Was that who I think it was?’ Mrs Gideon hissed in alarm, her hand pressed to her heaving bosom.

Claire’s eyes were dancing in merriment. ‘Bad Mr Kavanagh gave you a ride home. Why didn’t you ask him in? I’d adore meeting him. How wicked is he?’ she demanded to know.

‘Is Michael any better?’ Faye asked, trying to still her racing heart following the excitement of her encounter with Kavanagh. She had vainly hoped that if he let her down at the top of the garden her return might go unnoticed. ‘The doctor will be here shortly, we spotted him on his way.’

‘Michael isn’t as feverish, but the rash still troubles him,’ Mrs Gideon informed her before resuming her interrogation. ‘Did that brute force you up on to that beast with him?’

‘Of course not! I was tired and Mr Kavanagh kindly offered to save me the walk home. By the time I arrived at the manor, Dr Reid had gone from there so it was a fool’s errand.’

Faye started quickly up the stairs.

‘You’d best hope your fiancé never gets wind of you being so close to that wretch. He’ll jilt you for sure.’ Mrs Gideon followed her mistress up the treads, shaking her head.

‘Mr Kavanagh was simply making sure I didn’t fall off during the ride. He was a perfect gentleman and very obliging.’

‘I’ll bet he was...’ Mrs Gideon muttered.

‘He’s devilishly handsome,’ Claire chortled, skipping to keep up with them as they dashed along the landing.

‘Handsome is as handsome does,’ Nelly interjected with a finger wag.

With a sigh Faye entered Michael’s chamber. Her brother indeed appeared brighter. She sat down on his bed, taking his hands in hers and giving them a squeeze. ‘You look a bit better now. Did you and your chums go down by the water at the fairground yesterday?’

Michael nodded. ‘We were feeling hot so stripped off and went for a swim in the river.’

‘Did you lay on the grass afterwards?’

‘I had a fight with Edward.’ Michael cautiously mentioned Mrs Gideon’s nephew, known to be a bully.

‘What was the scallywag up to, then? I’ll have my brother speak to him. And Peggy’s no better. I’ve a mind to snub the lot of them, kin or no.’ Nelly looked grim.

‘If you did have a fight, it seems no harm’s done,’ Faye quickly interjected. Nelly’s comment about her niece had brought to mind the moment she’d seen Claire and Peggy creeping out of the copse at the fairground.

‘Doctor’s here,’ Mr Gideon called up the stairs, alerting them to the fellow’s arrival.

‘What’s this about, then?’ The physician put down his bag and approached the invalid to examine him.

Dr Reid was a nice gentleman who had taken great care of Faye’s father in his final weeks. He’d also done his best, years ago, to save her mother’s life, so her papa and Mrs Gideon had told her. Faye couldn’t remember that sad time as she’d only been five years old when her mother had died of a winter chill.

‘I doubt your brother has got scarlatina; I’d expect to see his tongue looking strawberry red and his cheeks flushed, too.’ Dr Reid tapped a finger thoughtfully against his mouth. ‘His fever’s faded.’ He held a hand against Michael’s forehead.

‘He’s been scrumping lately,’ Mrs Gideon announced helpfully. ‘And fighting.’

‘I believe he might have rolled on ragwort after swimming in the river,’ Faye added.

‘Scrumpy belly and irritation from the ragwort together with a summer chill from going swimming is what I reckon has laid you low, young man.’ Dr Reid started packing away his things, turning to Faye. ‘If he’s not properly back on his feet in a day or two, send for me again.’

Faye and Mrs Gideon exchanged a beam of relief.

‘I expect a day of rest and fasting will put your belly right. The apothecary might have something to soothe those spots,’ he told Michael, pulling the covers up over him.

‘Or the Romanies have a cure, I believe,’ Faye said.

Mrs Gideon turned a shocked look on her mistress.

‘Mr Kavanagh told me they do,’ Faye explained. ‘It seems he was right about the rash.’

‘Was he now!’ Mrs Gideon breathed. ‘I’ll send Bertram to the apothecary ’cos we don’t want anything off the likes of them.’

‘It is true that itinerants treat their own ills quite successfully.’ The doctor sounded quite unperturbed at the idea of using a gypsy remedy.

‘Please come into the parlour before leaving, Dr Reid. Have you time for tea?’

‘I must get off straight away and there’s no need for me to come into the parlour, Miss Shawcross. I was barely here a few minutes and nothing much wrong, so there’ll be no charge.’

The doctor knew about her financial mishap and was offering to waive his payment, Faye realised. ‘That’s kind of you, sir, but I insist if you’ve no time to take tea that you do stop long enough to collect your fee.’

Once the doctor had gone with the money she’d pressed on him, Faye opened the parlour window to let in a rose-scented breeze. It was another glorious midsummer day, Faye thought, gazing towards the spot at the bottom of the garden where just a short while ago Ryan Kavanagh had taken her from his horse. The memory of that ride home seemed dream-like now and it was only Mrs Gideon’s censorious expression that told Faye she had indeed flown over meadows on a black stallion with the new master of Valeside.

‘I promised your father always to do my best by you, miss, so there is something I feel duty bound to say...’ Nelly put down the tea tray she’d just brought into the parlour.

‘You want to scold me for accepting a lift from Mr Kavanagh,’ Faye pre-empted. ‘But he was helpful and I’m grateful. In fact, I should write and thank him, especially for hinting at what ailed Michael.’

‘Isn’t him you need to thank for that!’ Mrs Gideon huffed. ‘That hussy of his will be the one knows gypsy lore.’

‘What do you mean?’ Faye frowned. ‘They’re gentry from London, aren’t they?’

‘Maybe they are...but folk are saying she’s a Romany and from the look of her I’d say that’s true.’

The beautiful young woman certainly looked exotic enough to have foreign blood. It was a depressing thought that the master of Valeside would take a young gypsy girl as a paramour when he was attractive and wealthy enough to choose a woman closer to his own age and station in life. ‘Wherever the knowledge about ragwort came from I’m grateful to have it if it helps Michael.’ Faye changed the subject. ‘Where is Claire?’ She looked out of the window to see if her sister had gone into the garden.

‘Miss Claire went with Bertram to Wilverton. She said she was bored so she’s gone for a ride to the apothecary with him to fetch Michael some lotion.’

Chapter Five (#u8cea3a97-8897-5431-9da8-484ee3998bcd)

‘Tell Miss Claire to hurry inside or her tea will be stewed in the pot.’

Bertram had been pulling off his boots by the kitchen door when his wife called out to him.

‘The young miss is stopping in town with Peggy,’ he replied, padding to settle wearily on a kitchen stool. Unaware of his wife glowering at him he flexed his toes in his woollen socks and sipped his tea.

‘Stopping in town with Peggy?’ Nelly barked. ‘Who gave her leave to do such a thing? Did you?’

Bertram frowned at her from beneath his bushy brows. ‘’Course it weren’t me, woman. Miss Claire said her sister knew she was to meet up with Peggy this afternoon.’

Bertram pulled from a pocket the bottle of lotion he’d got from the apothecary shop, placing it on the table and trying to ignore his wife’s muttering.

‘Oh, I was just bringing the tea to the parlour, Miss Shawcross.’ Nelly had noticed her mistress on the kitchen threshold.