Page 23 of Lydia Acquires Adoration (Bennet Ladies Liberation #5)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Kiernan brushed the horse before him with the skill that came with both experience and love for the animal. He had wondered if bringing Epona with him would prove to be a problem, but so far, it had not. When they had come up with the idea to have Kiernan pose as a worker at Swarkstone, Darcy told him to bring the mare. He had wanted him to have his own transportation in case Kiernan needed to get help for some reason. It was a sound argument, but Kiernan had worried that someone would question how a stable hand looking for work might have his own horse and especially one that was so obviously well bred.

It turned out that he needn’t have worried. There were only three men working on the grounds. The youngest was a stable boy of about ten, who was excitable but willing to work hard. The only other person who worked in the stables was an older man named Jeb who did a good job but did not seem to give much thought beyond what was required of him. He was the de facto stable master, but only because all the more senior workers on the estate had abandoned their posts. When an extra horse had showed up in the stable, Jeb had merely shrugged. Not the best sort to be in charge of anything in Kiernan’s opinion, but he would not point out his deficiencies when it was helping him.

The gardener, originally brought in to assist with transporting Lydia's plants, had ultimately chosen to remain on the estate as the third grounds worker. When he had run into Mr. Roberts, he had only winked at Kiernan as he introduced himself in front of the others, rightly assuming Lydia’s family had sent him to check in on matters. Later, they met up in the gardens and discussed the state of the situation at Swarkstone. The situation impressed neither of them. The estate needed an infusion of good workers. And more than that, someone had been trying to cause harm to Lydia and her new family, and both of them were determined to do everything in their power to put an end to it.

Lost in thought, Kiernan was startled when he heard the young shout, “Pony!” Looking over at the source of the voice, he spied little Clara as she grinned exuberantly up at Epona from the front of the stall. Close behind her was Lydia, looking at him with a raised brow.

Grinning at being found out by Lydia, Kiernan quickly asserted, “Hello, my name is Kiernan, and I will be working in the stables and on the grounds.”

He was glad Clara was too preoccupied by Epona snuffing about her face to catch him in his lie. It would not do for her to say anything about already knowing him. Lydia, on the other hand, was sure to understand the situation, so he was not worried about her reaction. His guess was confirmed when she said, “It is lovely to meet you and your fine horse.”

Chuckling, he answered, “Oh this horse isn’t mine, ma’am. I am only caring for it.” Of course, Lydia would be the first person to point out the discrepancy. He offered his patently false explanation by saying, “I was dropped off by someone kind enough to bring me by cart on their way to another estate. I do not know where such a fine horse could have come from.”

Wrinkling her nose, Lydia said, “Well, once Clara has her fill of our visit to the horses, I would appreciate it if you could help carry my basket and tools as we walk through the garden looking for blooms to arrange for or table.” They both knew that Lydia did not need help to carry her basket, but it would give them a reasonable excuse to walk away from prying eyes together.

Turning his attention to Clara, he crouched down and asked, “Would you like to help me brush her?”

Nodding her head with vigor, she said, “Yes, please.”

Handing her a currycomb, he said, “This is a currycomb, and we use it to get the dirt off her coat and skin.” Then, picking her up around the waist, he held her so that she could stroke the horse with the comb. Continuing his instruction, he said, “Use gentle circular motions, like this.” Holding his free hand over hers, he helped guide her efforts.

Looking on, Lydia said, “Oh look how pretty she is. You have done such a lovely job, Clara.”

“Pony is a pretty horsey,” exclaimed the little girl in happy agreement.

After a few minutes, Kiernan set her back on her feet. “Thank you for helping me groom Epona.”

Handing back the comb, she said, “You’re welcome.” She then hugged the mare’s front leg. “I love Pony!”

Kiernan inwardly cringed. With most horses, her abrupt movements could startle them, causing them to react by shying away from her or kicking out. Fortunately, Epona was steadier than most horses for all that she was young. Still, he felt Clara should learn how to act around horses if she was going to have such an affection for them. Kneeling, he said, “Clara, have you ever had someone startle you when you did not know they were there?” Eyes wide, she looked at him and nodded. Smiling softly, he continued, “I know you love Pony, but moving like you did can startle her. Some horses are more easily scared than others, so it is important to move softly around them. It is important that you let horses know what you are doing so you don’t scare them and they jump. Can you imagine what would happen if a scared horse jumped?”

Biting her lip, Clara looked back and forth between him and Epona. Then with a frown she said, “I am sorry if a scared you, Pony.” Then, walking slowly, she moved to where Epona could easily see her and said, “I would like to hug you now.”

Lydia and Kiernan smiled at one another at Clara’s cute antics, but the moment was disrupted when Jeb shouted, “Why are you allowing that child to be in there!”

Scared at the loud shout, Clara flinched in fear and clung tightly to Epona’s leg. Epona remained still, her eyes locked on Jeb as he approached, emitting a furious snort in response to the older man's angry approach. As he continued to approach, his furious movements and expression caused the mare to snap at him.

Halting his approach, Jeb studied the mare with shock on his face. Epona leaned over and nuzzled at the top of Clara’s head and softly nickered at her. Mouth dropping open, Jeb watched the scene with an expression of consternation. If Epona had looked at the older man and started to lecture in Latin, he might have been less thunderstruck by her behavior.

Speaking up, Lydia said, “Clara is rather fond of horses and Epona is rather fond of her. As long as Mr. Kiernan and I are here to supervise, it should not be a problem, Jeb.”

Shaking his head, Jeb responded, “Whatever you say, Missus.” Turning away, he walked to another stall muttering under his breath about crazy horses.

Lydia walked among the scant blooms of her garden at a sedate pace while Clara expended her energy running about. It was nice to see her looking more like a child and less like a somber little statue. She looked around, making sure that no one could overhear her before she spoke to Kiernan. “I suppose William sent you.”

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Kiernan said, “It was a consensus of sorts. The letter you wrote about the fires and Mr. Burgess being burned in the most recent one did not sit well with anyone.”

Lydia sighed. “I assumed someone would show up.”

“Elizabeth wanted to rush over here, but Darcy put an end to that idea. Not without a struggle, mind you.” This had them both laughing. Lydia could well picture that argument. Her older sister was ever the mother bear, always quick to run to the aid of those in need. Her recent delivery being only a few months past would not stop her, though William managed to. Kiernan managed to get his laughter under regulation before finishing, “If Kitty was not so close to her own confinement, I believe she and the colonel would both be here. I have a feeling that he will come to check on matters once their child arrives safely.”

“But how did it come about that you were the one who came to my aid?”

Shrugging, Kiernan explained, “Servants are easy to overlook, and I will be able to act the servant easier than all of your brothers-in-law. I am hoping that I may overhear someone plotting evil or at the very least I may be present to help the next time something bad happens.”

Sighing, Lydia moved to clip a bloom before saying, “I wish I could say that I do not think anything else bad will happen, but I can’t. I can only hope that whatever transpires is not too bad.” Placing the bloom in her basket with the others she had gathered, Lydia glanced back at Kiernan.

Examining her shears, he said, “Those are unlike the other shears I have seen you use.”

Holding them for him to examine, she said, “They arrived shortly before I left Pemberley. They are quite useful. The cutting motion is smoother than typical and look at this.” Holding the shears carefully, she undid a clasp, and the two halves of the shears came apart. Explaining, she said, “This makes them easier to clean and sharpen. They are my new favorites.”

Lydia watched as a wicked grin spread across Kiernan’s face. “I think it would be a good idea for you to keep these on hand when you are out here by yourself or only with Clara. I know Swarkstone is not like Pemberley. You do not have the staff on hand to accompany you as you work in the gardens. I would hate for you to be caught unawares.”

Frowning, Lydia quickly scanned the area and spotted Clara happily playing not far off. She asked, “Do you really think that someone would be so bold as to attack me so close to home?”

Grimacing, Kiernan responded, “They caught the building you were in on fire and somehow got away without being noticed. It is better to be prepared than caught off guard and those shears could become valuable weapon should the need arise.”

Remembering the suffocating heat and smoke, Lydia found her breath strangling in her throat. She had had more than one nightmare since the fire. In her dreams, she sometimes suffocated in the smoke when no one came to her aid. Other times, Sebastian perished from burns that were worse than reality.

Squaring her shoulders, Lydia chose not to dwell on her memories of the blaze or her nightmares and instead focused on how to protect herself and her loved ones. Her grim smile did not match Kiernan’s fiendish one, but she did have the power to say, “I will keep them on hand.”

With a nod, Kiernan changed the subject, asking, “How is Mr. Burgess recovering from his burns?”

Sighing, Lydia turned and inspected one of the rose bushes that she had brought with her from Pemberley. It was doing well for all that it was transplanted recently. Running her fingers along one of the stems, she said, “He has burns running from the backs of his hands and up his shoulders in patches. While he says he is well, and the apothecary said he is healing remarkably thanks to the treatment that was provided by one of our tenant wives, I still worry for him.”

Kiernan spoke from behind her. “Of course you worry for him. The thought of someone you know needing help or being unwell weighs heavily on your mind. He is your husband, so it only makes things worse and unless I miss my guess, you have quickly grown to love him.”

Lydia could feel her cheeks flame with embarrassment from being caught out so easily. She should have known that Kiernan would realize. He had been there for Elizabeth’s romance and had encouraged William to propose. Kiernan had also been there when Mary finally confronted Gabriel, though a blizzard had also helped matters along. Finally, looking up at Kiernan, she managed to laugh, “I cannot deny it. Nor would I wish to. I have found myself thoroughly in love with the man, despite the way he goes charging into fires and scaring me to death.”

The whole thing was ridiculous. He was too important to pay attention to his funds and spending. So, what if he should have waited for his estate’s harvest to come in before buying that jewelry for his mistress? He knew he had to give her something to salvage their arrangement after his last drunken debacle. Growling, he punched at the nearby bush.

Who cared that they had record rain and a blight? Growing crops was so easy, even stupid peasants could do it, and yet somehow, they got it wrong. His tenants should have worked harder and had a better harvest. If they had done their job, he would have the money he expected and there would not be an issue of paying the jeweler or dealing with his very strong messengers. They were calling for better roofs and drainage for the fields. Baron Blackthorn chuckled quietly to himself, picturing how their complaints would turn to cries once he informed them he was raising their rents. He did not put up with loafers.

None of his previous plans had worked as he had expected and now, when he finally had something that would work, his minion had disappeared. He was Randell Blakesley, Baron of Blackthorn. He never actually did things himself unless it was threatening people, and that was only because he enjoyed it. Now he realized that he did not have people he could trust with something like this in his employ. Without his minion, he had no choice but to take matters into his own hands.

Grumbling as he went, the baron stalked among the bushes. His reports from his arsonist said that the little girl would be in the garden with a young blonde woman most mornings. Hoping for a swift getaway, he had tethered his horse in the small, untamed area just beyond the blooming flowers. Angry that he had been driven to something so beneath himself, he knelt in the dirt behind several large bushes with some sort of flowers that made him want to sneeze.

The sound of small footfalls sent a thrill through him. This would be the day that everything would come together. He could practically taste victory as he anticipated the moment when the little brat would be in his clutches. She was the key to all his money problems. By ransoming her, he could both pay off his debt to the jeweler and secure the funds needed to start horse breeding for races. He had heard it was becoming all the rage with the latest fast set he wanted to ingratiate him into. Once he had gained their trust and interest, he could throw a house party and get plenty of blackmail material to keep his ventures going.

Listening carefully, he heard the lower voice of the blonde intermingled with the higher annoyingly chirpy tones of the girl child. As he waited for them to come into view, he tried to remember if it was the nursemaid or the young wife that went with the child into the garden. It did not really matter she was just a girl and would not be able to stop him. No matter who she turned out to be, he would direct her to pass on his message to the Burgess fellow. Blackthorn needed Burgess to wait at Swarkstone Park to receive the ransom demand.

He had heard that Burgess’ new wife had a significant dowry, so his plan had been to ask for it. His contacts had told him that she had been born from a lowly country squire, but several of her sisters had married exceedingly well and he supposed their husbands had increased her dowry so that they could get her off their hands. No man wanted to take care of a younger sister if he did not have to. Hopefully, there would be at least twenty-thousand pounds for the taking.

Just as the baron was about to rub his hands together in glee, the little girl came bouncing around the corner of the path, finally in sight. Knowing that he needed to be quick, he darted out from his hiding spot and grabbed the girl by the wrist, causing her to screech. Giving her a smallish shake, he told her, “You are going to come with me for a while, Laura.”

The baron expected her to look up at him in fright, but she just looked confused for a moment before she started tugging to get her arm free. Looking up at him with blue eyes hooded by brows drawn together, she declared, “I am not Laura, I am Clara!”

Glaring at the child, the baron snapped, “I do not care who you are. You are coming with me.” He would call her whatever he wanted, and she should be happy that he saw to her care while he had her.

The hard voice of a woman drew his attention when she thundered, “You will not be taking her anywhere!”

The baron studied her. It was obvious that she was the young bride. He could see that much from her method of dress. The baron observed her, noting that she was more than passingly pretty, although she was dressed far more respectably than he preferred. She was moving quickly towards him, obviously intent on stopping him, which almost made him laugh. Pulling the little girl out of her reach, he barked, “I am taking the child! Tell your husband that he will receive my ransom demand along with instruction on how to make the exchange by the end of the day.”

The woman did not cry or act afraid, she merely said, “No.” Then with a fierce look on her face she continued to approach him. Discomposed by her actions being the complete opposite of what he expected, he lashed out. “You are nothing but a female, foolish and powerless. What can you possibly do to stop me?” His laugh did not last long.

“You are nothing but a female, foolish and powerless. What can you possibly do to stop me?” questioned the baron.

Baron Blackthorn’s chilling cackle quickly turned into a shriek of pain when Lydia thrust the flat of her palm into the bridge of his nose, breaking it. Grabbing Clara and moving back out of his reach when he brought both hands to his bleeding face, she taunted, “You know nothing of me, Baron. Engaging the enemy without proper intelligence was just the first of many mistakes you made. I may be female, but I long ago determined never to be foolish or powerless.” Leaning over, she whispered something in Clara’s ear before the child took off running.

“What the blazes? You struck me!” Giving up on stopping the bleeding, Baron Blackthorn dropped his hands into fists. “I will have you brought up on charges for striking a peer.”

Knowing she had to keep the attention on herself, she continued to taunt the furious man, “Thinking that you have the power to have me brought up on charges is your second mistake. I am daughter-in-law to a viscount and sister-in-law to an earl. An earl who was once a colonel in the royal dragoons. Thinking that you can have me brought up on charges is laughable. You are the one who is trespassing.”

“So you made me bleed. How brave you must think you are. How do you really think you are going to stop me? I am bigger than you.” Stepping forward, he grabbed her arm and cajoled, “Why put up a fight? Your husband is abed recovering from his wounds. Let me take the girl and I will leave you alone. You do not want to get hurt, do you? Give up, you are just a lady.”

Lydia grunted as he drew her close. He smelled of sweat and some sort of musk that made her want to gag. Had he said she was just a lady? The Baron began to drag her along down the garden path in the direction that Clara had run. Laughing, he said, “I will even let you have her back once your husband pays me enough.”

“Threatening Clara was your third mistake. Haven’t you ever heard not to threaten cubs when the mother is nearby?”

“How else would I get any money out of your husband? Besides, you are not her mother, she is nothing to you. Paying the servants to abandon the place didn’t do anything. Spreading rumors backfired. Even setting the fires got me nowhere. That stupid lawyer would not find the pair of you unfit guardians. But I have discovered your weakness, and it’s that brat. You will do anything for her. I will finally get what I deserve!” Lydia could feel his spittle slide down the side of her face as he ranted. While it was nice to have her suspicions confirmed, knowing that he had started the fire that had harmed Sebastian only made her angrier and more alert.

All the while he was dragging her around the garden, Lydia had been waiting for something very specific. Seeing what she was waiting for, Lydia knew it was time to act. When he put his foot down right alongside hers, she stomped hard with the heel of her boot on his instep.

She hadn’t begun wearing her reinforced boots for nothing. She expected his scream and for him to loosen his grip around her neck, and she was ready. Shoving her elbow back into the middle of his chest exactly where Kiernan had shown her had the desired effect. He completely let her go and struggled to breathe. Facing him she snapped, “I am not just anything!” Driving home her point, Lydia grabbed him by the shoulders and brought her knee up and into his groin.

He might have wanted to scream or curse at her at that point, but he was incapable of either. The baron could only hold himself and look up at her in confusion. Glaring at him, she took a second to whistle shrilly. Then, reaching down into the gardening basket she had dropped on the ground earlier, Lydia pulled out her sheers. Undoing the catch that held the two pieces together, she was left with two incredibly sharp blades.

Eyes widening, the baron managed a strangled, “Who are you?”

“I am Lydia Bennet Burgess and I have faced worse men than you. My sisters have been attacked, survived blizzards, faced epidemics, been thrown off cliffs, and almost kidnapped, and every time we have come out on top. I have an adoptive little brother who saw the need to teach me to defend myself, and his methods have proved quite effective. The women in my family protect what is important, and we have learned to do what we must in order to protect who we love.” Holding the blades at her sides, hoping that she would not have to use either of them, she declared, “I have claimed Clara Blakesley as my daughter, and you will never lay another finger on her.”

“Do you think he is scared enough yet, Darcy?” said a familiar voice.

Lydia started for a moment when she heard the voice coming from behind her, but then relaxed when she realized reinforcements had arrived. Turning her head, Lydia spotted William, Kiernan, and Theodore standing there and glaring at Baron Blackthorn. She knew she could rely on them to take care of the matter. With a visible sense of relief, Lydia's energy seemed to drain from her body. Her shoulders sagged and her thudding heart no longer sounded in her ears.

Approaching her, William gave her a one-armed hug, while keeping his eyes on their adversary. Holding her to him in a supportive fashion, William said, “Why don’t you go inside with Kiernan, while Theodore and I take care of this scum?”

With a nod, Lydia affixed her two blades back together into her gardening shears once again and then leaned down to gather her basket. With a faint smile directed at William and Theodore, she accepted Kiernan's outstretched arm and walked away, tuning out the unpleasant sounds of the disgruntled man's vociferous complaints.