[Previously: Cedric and Lavinia have finished their walk in the sunny rose garden and Cedric was able to confide to her more about his work as the Avenger. We are still in the same day at the beginning of this part.]


*

With Cedric improving there was no longer any need for Lavinia to be in near constant attendance, so Jacques was now Cedric's primary nurse. He changed the bandage and administered the doses of tea that Lavinia sent via Jeanne. The teas that Lavinia now made for Cedric were meant mostly to promote healing, although she occasionally still included something to relax him; she knew her patient well. She was determined to make him rest as much as possible, and had found in Jacques an eager co-conspirator. They both knew they'd have their hands full in the days ahead. But at least if Lucius returned home tomorrow, there would be nothing about Cedric's condition that would make the Earl suspect he'd been wounded. That was a consoling thought.

After resting for what remained of the afternoon, Cedric felt well enough to join Lavinia, her father, and Mrs. Clark for dinner. The professor was delighted to see his young friend on the mend, and the discussion at the table was a lively one. Soon after they'd all repaired to the drawing-room, though, Lavinia insisted that Cedric retire for the night. She reminded him, for the benefit of her father and Mrs. Clark that his "cold" had been a bad one and he shouldn't risk a relapse.

Aloud he acknowledged the wisdom of her words, but his eyes were full of mischief as he bowed over her hand. Rising he whispered that he would have his revenge the next time they played cards.

She had to turn her head to hide her laughter while Cedric said goodnight to Mrs. Clark and the professor. Mistress of herself once more Lavinia picked up her embroidery and settled into a chair beside her father. Her needle and threads lay untouched in her lap, however, as she watched Cedric leave the room. With either the eyes of love or the eyes of a nurse it was obvious that his side didn't bother him as much as it had done just one day earlier. Both the way he held himself and the way he moved told her that the pain was all but gone and his strength was returning. She felt her heart filling with gratitude.

Such was her preoccupation with Cedric that her father had to speak to her twice before she attended to him.

"I hope you are not becoming as absent-minded as your papa, my dear."

"Non, Papa." She quickly began to look through the bright colours on her lap. "I am tired a little, I think."

"Alors, you should try to rest more, daughter. Now, as I was saying, in the Greek text I was studying this morning I found ...."

Seated in her usual spot by the fire, Mrs. Clark smiled down at her own stitchery. She'd been highly entertained all during dinner, watching those two young people try to hide their regard for one another. Cutting her thread and weaving the end into the back of her work, she replayed in her mind some of the discrete glances she'd noticed Cedric giving Lavinia, and the barely repressed tender note in Lavinia's voice when she spoke to Cedric. Oh, yes! It was love all right! Her old friend, Bernard, was no doubt completely unaware that his daughter had given her heart to the Earl's nephew. As she chose her next colour of thread she admitted to being worried about what the Earl might do when he came home and discovered that the woman he'd chosen had chosen another.

It made her a little afraid for those two sweet children! Even though she did always try to give her fellow creatures the benefit of the doubt, and she hadn't known the Earl all that long, she couldn't quite shake the feeling of concern that had been growing within her. She had not been a clergyman's wife all those years without learning something about human nature! By now she had heard a little about Cedric's youth as well as Lavinia's and she believed they each were overdue for some love and happiness in their lives. Whether the Earl would be able to see it that way was another matter entirely!

Lavinia sat listening with only half an ear to what her father was telling her. Her fingers might be busy with needle and thread but her thoughts were mostly for Cedric and the dangers ahead once the Earl returned. She hoped that would not be for some time yet. There had been no word from him since he'd left for London, which made her hope he had not found things as easily remedied as he had prophesied.

She supposed it was too much to hope for that he would once again involve himself in a brawl and have to flee the country. Then her conscience pricked at her for that might mean some poor soul would have to die, and she shouldn't wish for such an occurrence. Père Michel, curé of the parish church near her old home, would be horrified to know she was having such thoughts.

Ah, well, it could not be wrong surely, she reasoned, to wish that the Earl would be making an extended stay in London, as long as no one had to die for him to do it. With that pious thought, she dutifully tried to focus on her father, and the Greeks he was speaking about so enthusiastically.




Chapter Eleven


Cedric pulled on his boots grimacing a bit as he did so. Today--the sixth since the shooting--he was feeling the effects of a brief ride the previous evening with Jacques. After taking things easy during the day, either resting or working at his desk, he'd been eager to be on horseback again. It had tired him a bit and his wounded side was a little sore this morning but, taken all in all, he'd been pleased to discover that his stamina was returning along with his energy. The "citizen army" had gathered at the Squire's stables before beginning their first sortie and Cedric had wanted to see them off. They'd all been glad to see him and promised jovially to save a thief or two for Cedric to catch once he was well enough to join them.

Squire Wiltkens had later sent word that they'd managed to capture a thief in the act of robbing a lone horseman which, judging by the tone of his messenger's voice, must have greatly excited the little band of neighbours and friends. Cedric hoped this capture might embolden others to step forward and help. He was encouraged to believe that this could be just what was needed to drive the remaining criminals out of their area. Now, if only he could get the kind of proof he needed against his uncle--the kind that could stand up in court--then he would have truly rescued Kentham, and its people.

It was late-morning already. Jacques had let him sleep in and then had insisted Cedric take his breakfast in bed, a "strategy" that Cedric believed had come directly from Lavinia. He knew she had worried about him. She'd understood why he was eager to be out once again but he knew she hadn't been happy about it. Thus he was anxious to get downstairs as soon as possible, in order to show her he was none the worse for his small adventure.

He had learned from Jacques that he'd need to look for Lavinia in the Library. He'd seen her there, assisting her father as he was passing that way, returning from the kitchens. At the moment he was in the tunnel taking care of the horses before letting them out to graze.

Jacques had also told Cedric to wait for him before dressing, uttering dire warnings about overexerting himself. However, Cedric was newly loved, and in love, and wasn't patient enough to wait another thirty minutes or more for his servant's return. Besides, he rationalised proudly, he'd gotten his boots on just fine by himself. Well, maybe it had involved a bit more time and effort than he'd anticipated, but that was only because his side ached a bit, certainly not because he was incapable of dressing himself!

He slid his arms into his waistcoat and was reaching for his coat, smiling smugly over his success, when he heard Lavinia scream.

His coat slipped to the floor from unheeding fingers, and his first thought was to go to her. Only after he'd descended to the second floor did it belatedly occur to him that he should have stopped long enough to pick up a weapon. Pausing on the second floor landing and hiding in a shadow, he could hear a rough, gravelly voice demanding of someone to "put them candlesticks in this 'ere sack, and be quick about it, ors I might have to darken yo' daylights for ya." Cedric couldn't see who was being threatened, but he recognised the style of the speaker, if not the actual voice. Some robbers had apparently gotten bold enough to take their business from the highway and into a gentleman's house!

Some part of Cedric's brain was chiding him for not having foreseen that an armed strike against the thieving gang might have resulted in some form of retaliation, but he couldn't afford to pay it any heed--he needed to focus all of his attention on rescuing Lavinia and the rest of the household. Once they were safe, then he could take whatever other measures were necessary, such as sending warnings to his neighbours about this new threat.

As he deliberated the wisdom of retrieving his sword and pistol against the necessity of speedy action, he heard yet another robber's voice growling from the direction of one of the first floor parlours, and Cedric wondered just how many of them there were! A little further off in the distance he thought he could make out the housekeeper's voice, raised in indignation and fright, so that would mean there were at least three housebreakers ... four if another one had menaced Lavinia.

Lavinia! He had to get to her! But two of the robbers would be able to see him before he could even make it to the bottom of the stairs, so continuing on his present course was out of the question. Turning, he made his way hurriedly towards his grandfather's former bedroom, as that contained the closest available entrance to the secret passages.

By rights this should have been Lucius' room, but he'd refused to stay in it. At least in part, Cedric was certain, to insult both his nephew and his late father's memory, even though his publicly stated reason had been because he'd wanted more spacious quarters. It was true that this part of the house contained smaller chambers than the newer wing, but Cedric had never minded it since he loved all of Kentham. To Cedric, also, these older rooms would always be associated with his grandfather, and the happier times before the intrusion of Lucius, and all that he stood for.

Taking one of the lamps from the table in the hall and lighting it with a candle borrowed from the nearest wall sconce, Cedric entered the room and locked the door behind him. He didn't want those louts to gain access if they should venture above stairs. As he made his way to the hidden panel beside the fireplace he grabbed a poker to use as a weapon. He wished he had Jacques by his side, but it would take too long to collect him, and every moment could be precious. Once the panel was opened, he waited only long enough to remove his boots, before slipping into the passage.


[Author's note: help with French phrases--
Père Michel = Father Michael
curé of the parish church = rector/pastor of the parish church]