Suddenly he took hold of her hand and said, “Star.”
“Yes, Vern, what is it, darling…do not get so worked up,” she cooed in an effort to calm him down. Faith! He suddenly looked frantic.
She wished Doctor Hayes would arrive. Vern should be much better by now, but he wasn’t. She had sent Jeffries who she couldn’t really spare from the stables to fetch the doctor to the Grange more than an hour ago.
“Star…” her brother cried out again. “Damn, but it is hot…so hot in here.”
“Hush, Vern…just lay still.” She sponged his face again.
All at once, he startled her by sitting straight up in his bed. He grabbed her wrists. His eyes were black pools boring into hers. Star was surprised by the intensity of his grip.
He said, his voice sounding frenzied, “Star, it has just come to me—now when I realized how much we look alike. Damnation! Why didn’t I think of it sooner?”
“Vern…what are you talking about?” Star frowned with concern and wondered if the fever had made him delirious.
He moved his hold from her wrists and clutched her hands, “Star, sis…it will be a simple thing. You are shorter, yes, but perhaps that won’t be noticed,” he squeezed her fingers and she objected.
“Ouch, stop, Vern.”
“Oh, sorry, sis, but you must listen to me,” His voice was hoarse and he swallowed hard. “There isn’t time. I am out of time…out of time.”
“You aren’t making any sense, Vern. What are you talking about?” Something however, had gripped at her heart. Instinctively she knew something awful was coming. Her spine felt a horrible tingle shoot through it. She had known something was off with Vern and had been over the last month.
She had been unwilling and was unwilling still, to acknowledge what she knew in her soul to be a fact. Her brother had been associating with the wrong people. She was sure of it. She withdrew her fingers from his hands and stroked his damp cheek, “Just hush, the doctor will be here soon.”
“Listen to me Star, my life depends on it. You see, I already accepted payment…don’t have it to return. You are my only hope.” His dark eyes pleaded before he ran a hand through his mass of cornsilk hair. “I promised father, I would look out for you, repair the estate…but nothing we did…the breeding fees only helped a little…and I was desperate. Star…”
“Stop it. None of it is your fault and father should not have put such a burden on you.”
“It is my fault. I lowered myself—misused my position and now my life is in jeopardy as well.”
“What are you saying? I simply don’t understand,” she scanned his face as she tried to make sense of it. She knew of course, they were in debt. She knew they were in danger of losing everything. Was that what he was referring to, or was it something else? In fact, as of late, his comings and goings before he fell ill, had her worried. She had supposed he had fallen in with a heady group of men…perhaps gamblers like her father.
“Star, I am in trouble. If you don’t do this for me, they will put a hole in me. This is more than an issue of money. They will think I betrayed them. Star, I would never ask this of you, but I don’t have a choice. I have to get the information to them.”
She went very still as she looked at him. He was her elder by two years. He was her dear, most treasured brother, but he was more a child at twenty-two than she was at twenty. Their father had been dead for just under a year. Their ancestral estate was in ruins not because of Vern but because of her father’s extravagances and his gaming habits.
Vern was nothing like their father and yet, she had wondered what he had been up to the last month. Lately cash had come in somehow and he had managed to get a few things around the place repaired. She had not questioned it, but she had wondered how he was managing. He had been so much more like himself as of late, laughing and jesting—hopeful, and that had made her happy.
She had turned a blind eye, especially when he spoke of giving her a London Season. This was as much her fault as his…whatever ‘this’ might be.
Still, how surprised and shocked she was when she heard just what had brought in the cash, for it wasn’t gambling or smuggling as she had feared—not at all.
She wished when he finished his confession that it had been, but it wasn’t…and now, he was right—his life might be in jeopardy because he had fallen in with the wrong crew.
Things were much worse than she feared.
Chapter Two
SIR EDWARD LOOKED up at the darkening sky and hoped it wouldn’t rain. It had the look of rain. He felt the first drop of it hit his face and with a growl of exasperation he hunched his shoulders into his summer weight riding coat and damned the loss of his top hat.
Cursing out loud helped, but did not do enough to assuage his frazzled nerves and so he added again, quite a bit louder than before, “Zounds! May I be damned beyond redemption if ever I allow a woman to make a victim of me again!”
The cob horse he had managed to buy from the driver of his leased coach, nodded his head most vigorously, though whether in agreement or a desire to be fed, he couldn’t tell, until the big horse snorted, which led him to believe his horse did indeed fully agree. “Indeed, ‘ole boy…had your share of heartache, have you?” He sighed. “’Tis a good thing you are gelded and no longer interested in a filly that might break your spirit.” However, the idea of resorting to such a drastic measure made him frown and shake off these words.
“Egad,” he continued to talk to his horse. “Will I ever forget the events of this day?”
The light drizzle took on a bit more force and he sighed heavily as he stared at the fingerpost just ahead. It indicated that at least he was not lost. “Aha, Rye…we are nearly there, ‘ole boy. You shall have your grain, hay, water and a straw bed, and I…with any good luck shall have a good sight better than that.”