His footmen had been instructed to stay in the small loft above the main floor of the stable. Surely Peeling was not sleeping up there, he thought, irritated with himself. I should have left at least one footman here. Yet, with Woods inside and the Runner outside, he had felt that there would be enough surveillance. He feared he had been dreadfully wrong.
“I am going to look upstairs in the loft. Would you check the perimeter, particularly behind the stable?”
“Right away, my lord.” Woods hurried to cover the area.
“Peeling?” Colin called out the man’s name, annoyed by the lack of response. The carriage bay was empty. “The ladies have this stable, although no means of transportation, it would appear, save going by foot,” he muttered to himself. Long, neatly stacked wooden planks lined the rear wall, affirming the projects that Nora had described. He heard a groan coming from the stalls. Carefully, he edged in that direction. Glancing inside the first, he saw a prone figure sprawled across the swept floor. Dashing under the breeching chain, he found the red-headed Runner moaning and trying to regain consciousness.
“Woods!” he yelled, “I have found him.” There was blood on the wall of the stall behind Peeling’s head, as if his assailant had hit him from behind and dragged him here. His mouth had been stuffed with a blackened rag and his feet and hands were bound with rope. Colin heard sounds of running from outside and moments later, Woods appeared.
“Help me get him to the house,” he ordered the footman.
“There is a small cot in the storeroom near the kitchen. We can put him in there,” Woods suggested.
“That is a good idea. Did you find anything behind the building?” Colin remembered to ask after a pause, watching as Woods pulled a small knife from his pocket and cut the rope around Peeling’s feet and hands.
“Someone had pried loose a couple of planks from the fence. It appeared new because the nails looked fresh. Marsh repaired the fencing early on,” he explained.
“Here. I will carry him by his shoulders, and you lift his feet. It looks to be a severe head injury. We need to keep from jostling him too much.” Colin recalled being told often enough by physicians that head injuries were dangerous.
The back door to the kitchen opened. “Mercy me! He is bleeding,” Mrs. Simpkins, evidently harried, cried out.
They carried him to the small room Woods had described. They had added shelving to the back wall and small jars of preserved items sat alongside baskets of dried spices.
“Mr. Woods,” Mrs. Simpkins stated more calmly, “we need to clean the injuries. Could ye retrieve some coal and stoke the kitchen fire? I’ll need boiling water t’wash these wounds. It appears he also ’as rope burns where his hands and feet were bound. I can make him comfortable and tend ‘is wounds, my lord. And please send Mary to me if ye see her. I’ll need her help with this.”
“Thank you. I defer to your experience, Mrs. Simpkins. I will send for a physician.” Colin was about to find Nora when she appeared at the door to the small room, with Mary behind her.
“Oh, my!” Nora cried as she scrutinized the man on the cot. “Is this your man?”
“Sadly, it is, Miss Mason. I will send for Dr. Andrew Perth, the friend I mentioned earlier. He is very good with head injuries, having trained on the battlefield years ago.
“Thank you, Lord Shefford. I appreciate your thoughtfulness and will be glad of his services.” She turned to her servant. “Mrs. Simpkins, please do anything you can. I will see Lord Shefford to the door and be back in a few moments to help you.” Her voice trembled. It was the first time Colin had heard any sign of unease from her.
They walked to the front door without a word.
“I will return as soon as I can,” he said, drawing her near. “There is no one about…” He could not help himself. Slanting his head, his lips caressed hers, drinking her in. Then he pulled back and cradled her face in his hands. “I think I know who wrote the note; however, I need to be sure. I will send Perth with my driver. And I will make haste.”
“Thank you for earlier,” she breathed. “Do be careful.”
“I will be careful, I promise you.” A chill went through him, almost a feeling of foreboding. “Keep the doors locked and have Woods again check all the windows, upstairs and down.”
She nodded and opened the door. To both their surprise, her grandmother was standing there, a look of astonishment shaping her features.
“Grandmama!”
“I apologize for leaving in such a hurry, Countess…” Colin began.
“Go, there is no time for delay! I will tell her everything,” Nora responded, giving him a reassuring nod that all would be well.
He gave a quick bow. “In that case, I shall return as soon as possible.”
Chapter 17
Nora gave her grandmother a warm hug and a kiss. Grandmama had smelled of violets for as long as Nora could remember, and the scent always soothed her. She needed soothing at the moment. Her nerves were as frayed as she could remember them ever being.
“Let me take your cloak,” Nora said, holding out her hands.
The Countess drew back, clearly perplexed. “Where is Woods? I expected he would meet me at the door.” She offered Nora her hat, gloves, and pelisse. “I had hoped he would take over the porter’s duties. Now I find you assuming the role of butler. The day normally quietens by this hour,” she remarked, her speech more succinct than usual.
Nora exhaled a long sigh. “I agree, and it is usually quiet at this time of day. Woods is helping with a situation that has occurred. There is much to tell you.”
“Then let us adjourn to the parlor and be comfortable. I always find that a good chair and a
