The Mistress Wager: A Risqué Regency Romance (The Six Pearls of Baron Ridlington Book 4)

Blinking, Kitty said nothing, since he was already half way across the room. But she too left the warmth of their bed, feeling a bit sore and sticky but otherwise none the worse for wear. She wrapped her robe around her bare shoulders and tied it snugly against the chill air.

In the stillness of the early morning, she could hear Deery’s voice. “Asking for Miss Ridlington, sir. Most insistent he was. An Indian gentleman. Says his name is Dal or something…”

Kitty’s ears pricked up immediately and she hurried to Max’s side. “Did you say Dal, Deery? And an Indian gentleman?”

Deery blinked, but ever the good butler, merely nodded. “Yes, Miss. Asking for you, he is.”

She put her hand on Max’s arm. “He’s a good friend of Hecate’s, Max. Almost like a bodyguard, if you will. If he’s here asking for me, something’s wrong.”

Max gave a brief nod then turned back to Deery. “Make him comfortable and tell him we will be with him in a few moments.”

“Of course, sir.” Deery bowed and hurried off.

“I will be no more than five minutes, I promise.” Kitty rushed to her door. “I don’t know…I’m sorry…”

“Stop.” He held up a hand. “Dress. Let’s find out what’s going on before anything else.”

She nodded. He was right. “Five minutes. No more.”

In fact, it took her less than four, but she had to find her shoes and that took a few moments. Fortunately, the gowns the maids had brought last night were mostly simple day dresses, and one woolen one had only a few fastenings in front of the bodice.

She was into her chemise and the gown in no time, her stockings pulled up hastily, and her hair secured with two pins. It wouldn’t do for morning, but for this middle-of-the-night whatever it was…

Hurrying out into the main corridor, she found a woman in a woolen night robe coming toward her.

“Oh Miss Ridlington, I’m the housekeeper. Mr. Deery wakened me. Is there an emergency? Is it Mr. Max?”

“No, not Mr. Max,” answered Kitty, a little stunned at being addressed so politely, given her situation and the fact they’d never met. “I believe it may have something to do with my sister. I am just going downstairs to find out.”

“I’ll dress and join you as soon as possible.”

Leaving her to return to her room, Kitty managed to find the main stairs and made her way down thanks to the few candles still lighting the treads.

Max was just taking the last step.

“Max, wait for me…” She hurried down and followed him across the hall to the library.

Deery stood outside. “The gentleman is in here, sir. I could not offer him tea without rousing the kitchen staff, and although they’ll be up soon…”

“No, Deery, you did the right thing. Let’s see what’s happening first, shall we?”

Unable to restrain herself, Kitty rushed in to the library. “I’m Kitty Ridlington. Are you Mr. Dal, Hecate’s friend?”

The tall man standing by the fire turned and nodded. He wore deep blue, a long tailored garment that fit well and came high up beneath his neatly trimmed black beard. On his head was a turban with a small gold clip.

“Indeed I am, Miss Ridlington.” He bowed. “And I apologise for my intrusion into this house where I am not known. But Miss Hecate is in great need.”

“Where is she? What happened?”

Max came to her side. “Tell us, man. It must be serious for you to come here at this hour.”

“It is, sir.” Dal faced them both. “There has been an accident. A carriage accident. Miss Hecate…”

“Oh God,” breathed Kitty, clutching Max’s arm. “No, please no…”

“She is alive, Miss Kitty, but barely.” He swallowed then. “The gentleman she was with. He did not survive. Neither did the driver of the carriage.”

“Where was this?” Max barked the question.

“Not too far from here,” Dal nodded his head. “A few miles north. I—I came across the wreckage. I was too late to stop it…” His voice shook.

“Dal, she is alive? Where is she?” Kitty’s voice shook a little as well.

Dal drew himself together, visibly straightening. “She is in a small cottage maybe two miles further north from here. An elderly couple were awoken by the sound of the crash even though it was more than a mile from their house. The horses…I rode one here. The other…”

Kitty found tears were falling over her cheeks. “Dal, we must bring Kitty here. How badly is she hurt?” She spun to Max. “Can we do that? Please? I know it’s an imposition but…”

“Hush. Stop. Of course we can.” Max freed himself from her grip. “I shall make sure it’s all taken care of.”

He walked quickly to the door where Deery waited.

Kitty turned back to Dal. “It was a bad crash then?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Very bad. Miss Hecate must have had her God’s hands wrapped around her to have escaped with her life. She was thrown, you see.”

Kitty gulped, trying not to imagine fragile Hecate flying from a tumbling carriage. “Who was she with, Dal? Do you know the gentleman’s name?”

Dal nodded. “I believe so, Ma’am.”

Max returned at that moment. “My coach will be ready in ten minutes. You and I, Dal, will go and fetch Miss Hecate, while you, Kitty,” he flashed her a quick look, “will help Mrs. Timmins and the staff get a room prepared for her. I have already asked Deery to rouse a footman and send him post haste to the nearest physician.”

“Thank you, Max.” She leaned against him for a brief moment. “Thank you so much.”

“Now, Mr. Dal,” said Max. “I’d like the answer to Miss Kitty’s question, if you please. Who was the gentleman with Miss Hecate?”

“I am simply Dal, sir. No other appellation is necessary.” He stared at Max with an unblinking gaze. “The unfortunate deceased gentleman was Mr. Dancey Miller-James.”



~~~~*



Max’s heart was thundering as the coach rattled up a bumpy lane twice as fast as it should have.

The dark man beside him was silent, one hand steadying himself on the side of the carriage, but other than that—no sign of emotion at all.

“How did you find her, Dal?”

At Max’s question, Dal turned slightly toward him. “I felt that there would be trouble for her this night.”

“Er…you felt?”

Light flashed briefly off the gold pin in the turban as Dal nodded. “It must seem strange, sir. But if you know Miss Hecate well…”

“I do not, unfortunately. We have met a time or two, but that’s about it.”

“I see.” The other man looked past Max and out of the window. It was still dark, but there were hints of a brightening now and again, between the hills. “It is not easy to explain, sir. Miss Hecate—she has a gift. There are times when she can see things that others cannot. When she knows things that others do not.” He took a breath. “She has been a friend to my sister and her daughter…they await the return of their father, a soldier with your Wellington. Miss Hecate has spent time teaching all of us better English, especially my dear niece Rihya. In the course of their friendship, I grew to know Miss Hecate and to respect her greatly. Her kindness is boundless, her spirit shines. Her gift is a natural part of her goodness, and something that in my country we would welcome as very special.”

“But here in England…”

Sahara Kelly's books