days.
Douglas dropped to his knees beside his boy. He studied the heavy beard on his face, the pallor of his skin, the hollowness of his cheeks.
He placed his palm on his son’s forehead. Nice and cool. He sat back on his heels. “Thank God.”
“James!”
Jason dashed through the front door, smacked his head on the lintel, and nearly knocked himself out.
“Dammit, Jason, don’t make me worry about both of you.”
Jason, rubbing his head, cursing, weaved slightly as he walked to where his brother slept. “It’s very hot in here.”
“Yes,” Corrie said. “It’s supposed to be. He’s had the fever, been so cold-” She swallowed, stared at Douglas, then at Jason, and burst into tears.
It was Jason who drew her against him, stroking her back, patting her head. “That dress is a fright, Corrie,” he said against her temple.
She sniffled, swallowed, and managed a small smile as she looked up at him. “It’s been so long, and I knew he was going to die, and I didn’t know what to do. And I sent Freddie off to London, to your house, but he never came back and-” She sniffled, then grinned up at Jason. “He’s going to live. The fever’s gone.”
“Yes, thank God and your excellent nursing,” Douglas said. “Freddie arrived this morning, not twelve hours after Alex and I did. He’d gotten himself lost and robbed. When he came to the front door, Willicombe nearly fainted at the sight of him. All Freddie could say before he collapsed was ‘James’.”
“Is Freddie all right now?”
Jason nodded. He looked toward his brother, nearly jumped out of his skin when Mrs. Osbourne shrieked, “Lawks and Lordie! There are two of ye. Mr. Osbourne, come and look at this. There are two beautiful lads, not just one.” And she opened the door from the kitchen back to the barn and disappeared.
Corrie said, “Mrs. Osbourne has very much enjoyed taking care of James, particularly when it came to washing him down with wet cold cloths. It isn’t just his face she admires.” Then she giggled, actually giggled. She stared up at Jason.
He was grinning. “I’m sure James was delighted to please Mrs. Osbourne.”
James moaned and opened his eyes to see his father looking down at him.
“Hello, sir. Why aren’t you in Paris?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DOUGLAS SHERBROOKE WAS so relieved, so very thankful, that he could only stare down at his son as he stroked his hand over the thick black stubble on his face, and finally accept in his gut that he was going to be all right. It did worry him that James’s eyes were still a bit glazed, a bit unfocused, but he knew that would change, James just needed time and rest. He leaned down and said, “Your mother sends her love. I nearly had to tie her up to keep her from coming with us, but I knew, as did she, that you didn’t need the both of us hovering around you.
“The fact is, we never got to Paris. Your mother claims the Virgin Bride came wafting into our bedchamber in Rouen, said you were in danger. We just arrived back in London last night.”
“They kidnapped me to get to you, sir.”
“Yes, I suppose that’s true, but I know in my gut that this is more complicated than we thought. There were three men who took you?”
“Yes. Augie is their leader, Ben and Billy the other two, who weren’t really very smart. They were from London, which means that they’ve got to be known. Just maybe Remie will find out all about them. Willicombe can send him into the stews and down to the docks to hire more lads to find out what this is all about.”
“I’ll pass that along as soon as we get back to London. Actually, by now I think that all of London is looking for you and Corrie. Ah, James, I recognize that look-you’re hungry, aren’t you?”
James thought about it for a moment. “Yes, I could eat one of those damned mooing cows. They moo all the time, sir. I swear I could hear them mooing in the middle of the night.” He saw Jason with his arm around Corrie. “Jase, I’m glad you came. But I don’t understand how-”
Jason said, “We’ll tell you all about it after you’ve had something to eat. Where is Mrs. Osbourne?”
To Corrie’s surprise, Mrs. Osbourne was standing in the door of the sitting room, knotting her apron in her veiny old hands, looking-well, looking utterly intimidated. Corrie couldn’t blame her. Douglas Sherbrooke standing in the small sitting room was surely akin to a cardinal standing in the village church. Douglas, not stupid, rose and smiled at Mrs. Osbourne. He walked to her, took one of her hands as gently as he would take a duchess’s and raised it to his lips, just as James had done. “Mrs. Osbourne, my wife and I are very grateful for your kindness.”
“Oh, sir. Oh, dear, oh dear, yer lordship, it wasn’t much of anything, now was it, sir? Would ye look at me, all dressed in this old apron, with this even older gown beneath it, but I couldn’t take my gown away from Corrie, now could I, because she was wearing a ball gown that was all ripped up, really quite a mess, it was. Why I-”
“You look charming, Mrs. Osbourne. I would like to thank you for taking care of my son and his friend.”
Friend? James, who had just drawn a nice deep breath, choked. Well, he supposed Corrie was a friend, but still, to hear it said that way-he coughed again. Corrie went immediately and dropped to her knees beside him, raised his head, and gave him lemonade to drink.
Jason looked at the two of them. It was obvious that she’d done this many times since James had become ill, so many times that it looked utterly natural. As for Douglas, he became very still. Then, slowly, he nodded.
“Och, my little Corrie, what a sweetie she is. Just this morning Elden was showing her how to milk old Janie, who gives the sweetest milk within fifty miles.”
James swallowed the lemonade, closed his eyes a moment, and said, “Did you really milk old Janie?”
“I tried. I haven’t quite got the knack of it yet.”
“Would yer lordship like a cup of tea? And yer other boy as well?” She stood there, looking from Jason to James, shaking her head. “Two such beautiful young men in my sitting room. No one will believe it. And now a lordship as well, not that yer not beautiful, my lord, it’s just that these two young gentlemen would make the angels weep.”
“Trust me, Mrs. Osbourne, they’ve made me weep as well upon occasion.”
James said loudly, “Corrie is the daughter of a viscount.”
“Och, so what does that make ye, Corrie?”
Corrie rolled her eyes. “It makes me the girl who tried to milk old Janie, nothing more, Mrs. Osbourne.”
Mrs. Osbourne wheezed with laughter, caught herself, and choked out, “I have real proper tea, my lord. James here has drunk two bucketfuls of lemonade, Corrie pouring it down his lovely gullet.”
“Tea would be very nice, thank you, Mrs. Osbourne.” Douglas turned back to James, picked up his hand, to touch him, to feel the life in him. “We brought a carriage. It’s a good two hours back to London. How do you feel about that, James?”
“This floor is very hard, sir. When I complained, Corrie tried to lift me up to put more blankets underneath me. When that didn’t work, she wanted me to lift my rump so she could slide the blankets in, but I swear to you I couldn’t get any part of me off the floor.”
Corrie said, grinning down at him, “So I rolled him over, slid in half the blankets, then rolled him the other way. The squabs in your carriage are soft as a bed, sir. James will think he’s floating on clouds.”
“And you’ve been kept warm too and that’s good.” The earl looked over at Corrie, who looked quite lovely with her scrubbed face and shiny clean hair. If Mrs. Osbourne’s gown hung off her, it simply didn’t matter. She’d dropped flesh, he could see it in her face, just as James had.
Two hours later, the Sherbrooke carriage rolled away from the Osbourne farm, leaving the occupants fifty pounds richer and short one employee, a foundling Mrs. Osbourne said they’d taken in five years before. Aye, Freddie was a good lad, slept in the Osbourne barn, did his chores right and proper. But no longer. Now, Freddie rode tall and straight on the tiger’s perch, dressed in Sherbrooke livery from Willicombe’s store of uniforms. The uniform bagged on twelve-year-old Freddie, but Freddie had admired himself so much that Willicombe didn’t have
