AnchorandStorm by Kate Poole Page B

Hamish, go and bring the door off the pantry. Willie, take Jezebel, ride into town for the doctor.” As the boy nodded and started to run off, Angus called after him, “And don’t come back without him!”
     
    “Is he going to be all right?” Em’s voice was so soft, Angus almost didn’t hear her.
     
    He wanted to reassure her, but even as he opened his mouth to say “Yes” the pain and fear in her sky blue eyes stopped him. He couldn’t lie to her. “I don’t know,” he whispered. When she covered her mouth to muffle a sob, he hurried to try to give her some hope to cling to. “It’s too soon to tell, milady. Let us wait and see what the doctor says.”
     
    A short while later, Weston and Hamish brought the door. At Angus’ direction, they laid it against the steps and, in one motion, moved Lord Callander onto it. Then they each took hold of a corner, but they needed one more man.
     
    Angus looked up at Lord Stockdale. “You.” Gesturing with his head, he said, “Take that corner.”
     
    The man looked indignant at Angus giving him orders but lifted his edge of the door, nonetheless. They carried Lord Callander upstairs to his bedchamber and slid him, again in one motion, onto the bed. Lord Stockdale turned to Em and said, “Oh my poor dear.” He put his arm around her shoulders and Angus saw her stiffen. “No matter what happens you know I will take care of you. Have no fear.” From the intonation of the man’s voice, there was no mistaking his meaning.
     
    The sound of a sharp inhalation of breath made Angus turn to his right. Lady Stockdale stood just inside the door, staring at her husband with a look of pure hatred. Then she turned and flounced out of the room.
     
    Em had her eyes closed and couldn’t see the leer on Lord Stockdale’s face, but Angus could. He clenched his fists to keep from punching the bastard.
     
    Em opened her eyes and took a deep breath, her nostrils flared. “Leave this room, Raymond,” she said slowly, emphasizing each word.
     
    Stockdale gaped at having been spoken to like a child in front of the servants. Angus had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
     
    But his laughter died when he saw Stockdale’s look of cold anger and he wished Em had not antagonized the man. Stockdale was a prick and who knew what he might do for revenge.
     
    Without another word, Stockdale left the room.
     
     
     
    When Raymond left his uncle’s room after being so rudely dismissed by Emily, he saw Caroline just going into her bedroom. He hurried after her, intending to speak to her about what had happened and to make plans for their future—which to him seemed bright indeed. As he got to her door, however, he distinctly heard the latch click as she locked it.
     
    He went quickly through his own bedchamber, then through the sitting room that divided it from Caroline’s. But he heard her lock that door too. “Caro, we must talk.” There was no answer from the other side. He jiggled the handle as if that would do any good.
     
    Damn the woman , he thought. He was doing this for her as well as for himself. She liked the good life and he had tried desperately to give it to her. So desperately that they were only a few pounds away from bankruptcy and in debt up to their eye sockets. If his uncle didn’t die soon they would be forced to begin selling the silver plate.
     
    Surely he would die now. And Raymond would be earl. If Emily were pregnant, it didn’t matter to him. Until the child was born, she would be dependant upon him and oh how he would enjoy that. If it was a girl, no problem. If it was a boy, well, many babies die in infancy. As do their mothers. But he didn’t want to think about that. He wanted to think about Emily and how she would have to beg him for every crumb of food and every rag on her back. Oh yes, he would enjoy that.
     
    * * * * *
     
     
    Fen sat on the window seat for a long time, trembling. She could not have seen what she