Page 32 of A Fortune Most Fatal (Miss Austen Investigates #2)
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“Jane!” Eliza’s face is a portrait of fury as she stands at the door of Rowling Manor in the gentle glow of firelight. “Where in God’s name have you been? One moment you were there, the next you’d disappeared off the face of the earth, and all that was left of you was your sash tied around the execrable dog. I feared you’d been kidnapped!”
“ Excusez-moi, madame. ”
Jane is shielded from her new sister-in-law’s wrath by the gruff interjection of her saviour, Armand, who has carried her like a babe all the way home from the copse as she berated herself for having doubted his fidelity. “I must put Miss Austen somewhere she can raise her leg.”
Thankfully, Jane’s prayers did not go unheeded and it was Neddy, closely followed by Armand and several of the men from Rowling, who had been pursuing Spooner along the main road. Neddy was horrified to stumble across his youngest sister sitting among the undergrowth in her house gown and stockinged feet in the early hours. Perhaps even more horrified than he had been when he followed Spooner’s agonized cries to discover him with his mangled knee caught tight between the steel teeth of the baronet’s trap.
“A cold compress, if you please?” Armand looks to the small crowd of women as he places Jane on the oak bench in the hall. Kitty and Alice dash off towards the kitchen, while Eliza, Mrs. Knight and Grace remain. Jane’s left ankle has swollen to a thick trunk, twice the size of the other. She cannot look at it without her stomach turning. However, Armand has prodded at the throbbing joint and assured her it is not broken, and the graceful turn of her calf will return in just a few days.
“Agnes?” Mrs. Knight rushes towards the figure lurking in the doorway.
“Mistress.” Agnes’s voice catches. “I’m so sorry, I meant to bide with you. I really did.”
“Oh, you poor child, I’m not angry. I’m just so relieved to see you’re unhurt.” Mrs. Knight takes the girl by her hand and pulls her inside, towards the fire. “Where did you get to? We scoured the house looking for you.”
“I … I can’t explain.” Agnes’s face crumples, and Jane aches at the sight of her obvious fear and confusion. “I was at the empty church, and then I was in the woods with Miss Jane.”
Mrs. Knight turns to Jane. “ You found her?”
“I did, yes. Haunting St. Augustine’s Abbey.” Jane winces as Alice returns two steps ahead of Kitty and presses a damp cloth to her ankle. Conker, sensing Jane’s discomfort, rests his snout in her lap. The dog’s nature is far more forgiving than her own. She is glad. The feel of his velvet ears, beneath her fingers, is exactly what she needs to restore her equilibrium.
“Godmersham is preserved, Madame.” Armand bows to Mrs. Knight, like a warrior returned from battle to lay his victory at his queen’s feet. “The invaders put up little resistance, after we fired a few warning shots at their heads. Captain Austen has the gang secure until the dragoons arrive. Their leader escaped the park, but your son tracked him here.”
“Spooner must have spotted Agnes and me on our way out of Canterbury and risked capture to pursue us.” Jane shudders: she and Agnes were also being hunted.
Mrs. Knight clutches her throat. “But you caught the villain? He’s secured now?”
“As secure as a man can be.” The coachman shoots Jane an admiring glance. “He is caught in a six-stone trap with his leg half off.”
“No!” the women, apart from Jane, exclaim at once.
“ C’est vrai. We have dispatched one of the men to fetch a surgeon, and Mr. Austen remains to guard the prisoner. But I do not think Spooner capable of going anywhere, unless it is to Hell.” Armand shrugs, with his usual air of Gallic nonchalance. “Miss Austen displayed enormous courage in leading him towards the trap.”
“Enormous stupidity, more like.” Eliza has taken over the cold compress and is pressing it earnestly to Jane’s ankle while picking dead leaves out of her stockings. “Really, Jane. Couldn’t you have told me where you were going?”
“Hush now, cousin,” says Mrs. Knight, in her most commanding tone. “You heard my coachman. Miss Austen displayed enormous courage in apprehending the villain. And Armand would know. He’s a veteran of the attack on the Tuileries. Aren’t you, Armand?”
“ Oui. And now I must bid you adieu.” He lets out a heavy sigh as he heads for the door. “I expect the surgeon will want to move Spooner, but I will not have that man’s blood all over my coach. He can go in a wheelbarrow, for all I care.”