Previously: Lucius has kidnapped Lavinia. Cedric and the professor have been freed by Jacques, and both are now in the Morning Room where they can be looked after. Jacques now thinks that Portman is just a butler and not a spy for Lucius after all.]
Chapter Twelve
The way back to Lavinia, through the darkness and pain, seemed to Cedric to be very long. As he struggled towards full consciousness once again, he was aware of multiple voices without substance or form, and a mixture of comfort and pain as various hands bathed his face and put something soft under his head. But, when he tried to get up, to go after Lucius and Lavinia, other hands held him down, frustrating him and sending him to the brink of tears. Didn't they know? Couldn't they understand? Without Lavinia, he didn't care what happened to him!
Finally, all the other hands disappeared, leaving only two, and the noise of the voices distilled into just one voice--the hands and voice of someone he'd known, and trusted, nearly all his life. He still couldn't understand what was being said to him, through the disorganised jumble that his mind had become, but the tone of Jacques' voice was commanding, yet consoling, and Cedric was able to let go of his fears enough to allow his wounded body the time it needed to recover. Ironically, when he stopped chasing after consciousness, consciousness turned around and came back to find him.
"Comprenez-vous, Cedric? You must lie still a little longer. Nothing is being done that you would not like, and everything is being done that can be. I have sent word down to the stables for one of the grooms to follow the carriage, and for another to fetch the magistrate. We will go after them, you and I, but first you must rest until all is ready."
Cedric acknowledged Jacques' commands with a nod, not yet feeling equal to the task of an actual conversation. He knew that the other man was right; it was better to plan, better to think. Perhaps if he'd thought a little longer, or waited for Jacques to return before charging into this situation, Lavinia might now be free.
He should have known--ought to have guessed--that the presence of highwaymen in his house meant that Lucius couldn't be far away! He'd thought it merely ironic that they would have chosen this house, above all others in the neighbourhood, to rob. How could he have been so foolish! Of course Lucius would think nothing of robbing Kentham of whatever treasures he could carry--he'd been robbing the estate in one way or another almost from his boyhood.
Bitter despair swept over Cedric, and he moaned. Tears flooded his closed eyes, and his throat felt tight with fear, and self-reproach. He moved his head restlessly against the cushion, and felt a hand gently touch his shoulder. Instantly Cedric stilled, surprised, because he'd thought, for the moment, that he was alone.
"Doucement, monsieur," Lavinia's father told him kindly, and Cedric felt remorse coursing through him to join with, and enhance, the other negative emotions he was experiencing. That her father, who should by rights be blaming him, was attempting to solace him, was almost too much for Cedric to bear. He couldn't yet face the kindly old man, and so kept his eyes closed and tried to lie quietly. He didn't want to fall asleep, however, so he began to weave plans in his mind--ways to rescue Lavinia and inflict as much personal harm upon Lucius as lawfully possible. It was better to think about doing something, he reasoned, than to lie around feeling sorry for himself.
Even so small a step away from the brink of despair was enough to break him free of its paralysis. Despair cannot flourish where hope has been planted and so it fled, taking with it its cousins: fear, self-reproach, anxiety and self-doubt. As he lay plotting, his mood lightened, and his tense muscles relaxed. It was while he was working his way through a particularly intricate counter-offensive that his tired body decided to steal more rest, and he slipped into unconsciousness once more.
*
Jacques re-entered the Morning Room, his arms full of clean clothing, ointments and bandages. He had wanted to bring Cedric's boots, too, but could not find any other than his oldest pair. He had no idea what could have possibly happened to his good ones!
As he knelt beside the sofa where Cedric lay, Jacques spared a glance, and a thought, for Lavinia's father. The poor old man looked absolutely lost and bewildered. Pale and shaky, too--enough that Jacques wondered if the professor wouldn't be better off in his bed.
"Monsieur," he ventured, softly, "you should rest. We will return your daughter to you, this I swear."
Monsieur Le Mersurer could only shake his head. His eyes dropped away from Jacques' regard and his chin began to tremble. Jacques watched sadly as the old man began to weep. "T-to have come ... all this way! All for nothing! I wanted her to be safe. I wanted only to keep her safe, and now .... Now I will never see her again."
"She will be safe again, monsieur, of this I am sure. Cedric and I will--"
"Ah, monsieur, I can see you want to comfort me, but I know it is hopeless. The Earl, he is a monster! I pleaded with him to spare my Lavinia. I would have given him all that we were able to carry with us from France ... the last of my family's jewels, and money. I would have made of myself the destitute to save my only child, but the Earl he only laughed at me." He wiped his streaming eyes with the back of his hand then continued quaveringly, "Monsieur Cedric is a very good and kind young man, but he cannot save my daughter from such un ... un mal diable as his uncle."
"But, he can, monsieur." Jacques looked around to be certain that they were alone. Even though he and the professor were speaking in French, he did not want to run any unnecessary risks. "Cedric has saved your daughter before. In fact, he saved both of you as you travelled to Kentham. Cedric is ... was the Masked Avenger."
Jacques' announcement had temporarily robbed the professor of the power of speech, which was probably all to the good, since at that moment a discreet knock could be heard upon the door immediately followed by the appearance of Portman bearing a tray.
The butler had obviously taken a few moments to tidy his person and, except for the darkening bruise around his eye, now bore no outward sign that anything untoward had taken place that morning. He brought the tray forward and placed it within easy reach of Jacques' right hand, carefully arranging the items he'd brought before offering to lend whatever assistance Jacques might require.
"Merci, monsieur," Jacques replied, while politely declining the proffered aid. "As you said, the wound it is small. I am grateful for all that you have done."
The butler bowed his acceptance of Jacques' thanks. "It has been my pleasure, monsieur. We are all of us below stairs grateful to Master Cedric for what he tried to do this morning. His willingness to risk his own safety for the sake of others, even those whose station in life is inferior to his own, has touched us all." Portman cleared his throat, and with an effort reclaimed his composure. "I think you should know, monsieur ... the boy from the stables brought word that Mr. Holcombe, the Magistrate, was called away this morning on business in another part of the county. A message was left with his housekeeper for him to call at Kentham as soon as possible. Also," he added, with just the hint of wicked enjoyment in his eyes, "the two thieves that Master Cedric, um ... subdued have been locked in one of the cellars, which is under guard by Peter and Vincent. You do not have to fear that they will escape to join their fellows."
Jacques paused in his preparations to thank the man once more, an appreciative smile on his face. Portman bowed again. "Should you require my assistance, I shall be in my pantry, attempting to restore a proper shine to the family sterling." His tone seemed to indicate his poor opinion of people who put fine silver into potato sacks, but he didn't enlarge upon this theme. Rather, he made his way to the door, much more in his customary stately manner and let himself out, closing it softly behind him.
As soon as he was certain the butler was truly gone, Jacques began to cut Cedric's shirt. He hadn't wanted to do that in front of anyone, lest they question why Cedric's torso was already bandaged.
The sight of the old bandage that Cedric wore, as well as his obviously athletic frame, affected the professor deeply. Up until that moment he hadn't known whether or not to believe Jacques' claims about Cedric being the Masked Avenger. Now however, as he watched Jacques bathing and anointing Cedric's wounded side, and listened to Jacques' telling of some of the Avenger's exploits, the professor began to believe that his daughter might be saved after all.
"That Cedric has been the Masked Avenger, as you must understand, monsieur, must remain a secret! I would not have told you but I could see that you required some hope that mademoiselle will be saved. We will do all in our power to aid her, and to bring her kidnapper to justice. Please believe that!"
Cedric awoke while Jacques was attempting to re-bandage his wound. His sleep, while not lengthy had been deep and beneficial; he felt much better. He insisted upon sitting up so Jacques could more easily wrap the new strips of linen around his torso and then stood to pull on the clean shirt his friend had brought for him.
It surprised him to learn that Jacques had confided his secret to Lavinia's father, but he didn't mind. The man would have had to know eventually as Cedric had planned to make a clean breast of everything before asking for Lavinia's hand in marriage, but still it was a little disconcerting to have the old gentleman staring at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted wings.
"We'll bring Mademoiselle Lavinia home to you, monsieur."
"I believe that you will, mon fil. I believe that you will."
"Cedric ...?" Jacques' voice interrupted, requesting that Cedric sit down so he could help him put on his boots.
Cedric took one look at the footwear held out for him. "What--? Where did you come by those?"
"They were all I could find. Your good pair is--"
"--in my grandfather's room. I took them off before going into the ..." Cedric lowered his voice, glanced towards the professor and mouthed the word, "passage."
Jacques nodded his understanding. "I'll get them," he said, "and your cloak." He pointed towards the tray the housekeeper had left earlier. Have something to eat and drink--we may have a long ride ahead of us."
Cedric nodded, but abstractly. "The door is locked, Jacques, so you'll need the key." He pulled it from his pocket and handed it over. "And ... Jacques?" he added, in a tone that the Professor recognised instantly as belonging to the Masked Avenger, "bring my sword and my pistols. And ... bring Grandfather's ring."
Jacques would have protested but, seeing the look on Cedric's face, decided not to. He went away to do as he had been ordered, taking the soiled clothing and old bandages with him, and kept his inevitable reflections to himself.
[Author's note: help with French phrases--
Comprenez-vous, Cedric? = Do you understand, Cedric?
Doucement, monsieur = gently, softly, in other words "take it easy"
un mal diable = an evil devil
mon fil = my son]
