And the Bride Wore Black

‘She is much better, thank you, Alexander,’ a feeble old voice croaked irritably from the depths of the covers. ‘And please don’t refer to me in the way you would to a female cat.’

‘Grandmama?’ As Alex rose and bent over the tiny figure Fabia joined him, and both breathed a sigh of relief at the pink tinge to the face that stared back at them crossly.

‘Such a fuss about nothing,’ Isabella wheezed testily, giving John a long sharp glance in the process. ‘I told him not to call you—a little rest and I knew I’d be fine. I was trying to juggle my tablets,’ she admitted with a slightly sheepish glance at her grandson. ‘I get tired of taking all that lot every day; I thought I’d cut down on one or two.’

‘Isabella!’ Fabia stared at the old lady in horror. ‘Don’t you ever do that again. That’s really stupid; you could have killed yourself.’

‘Nonsense.’ The bright black eyes had their sharpness back again. ‘And it’s brought you two here to see me, hasn’t it?’ The dark eyes held Fabia’s in a long considering gaze. ‘And you weren’t going to come back, were you?’

‘Of course she was,’ Alex said easily, unaware of the message passing between the two women. ‘And now we’re going to have some breakfast while you rest. And behave yourself,’ he added warningly as he took Fabia’s arm. ‘I mean it, Isabella.’

‘Just like your grandfather,’ the old lady muttered crossly. ‘Always thought he knew best, too.’

‘Mary has some bacon and eggs on the go, sir, if you’d like to go down,’ John said softly. ‘I’ll stay with Miss Isabella for now.’

‘Thanks, John.’ Alex patted the old man’s arm as they left and the lined face smiled back at him understand-ingly.

‘What on earth is going on?’ They had just finished breakfast and were sitting in weary silence staring out of the huge full-length windows of the breakfast room into the cold white world outside when Alex’s gaze sharpened on a small figure in the distance. Fabia had been feeling acutely uncomfortable for the last few minutes, regretting the intimacy that seemed to have sprung up between them as some of the old doubts and fears were resurrected in the cold light of day. He had asked her to come here for Isabella’s sake—fact. He hadn’t contacted her once since the Christmas break—fact. He was a very attractive man in a world of beautiful women—fact.

‘That’s one of my gardeners.’ As Alex’s voice interrupted her thoughts again she heard the note of concern in his voice. ‘And he’s only got one dog with him. They don’t usually separate.’

They met the red-faced man on the doorstep and he took a moment to catch his breath before he spoke, Major bounding up to Alex with a bark of delight but then running halfway across the lawn before barking again loudly.

‘We’ve lost one of the dogs, sir.’ The man looked up at Alex anxiously. ‘My lad took them for a short walk this morning before breakfast, knowing how things were in the house, and one of them didn’t come back when he called.’

‘Where did he take them?’ Alex asked quickly as he turned back into the hall and reached for his coat.

‘Down by Sabre Wood, sir.’ The man raised a hand as Alex went to speak. ‘I know, sir, I know. I told him not to go there but the lad’s young and he forgot.’

Alex swore softly. ‘Young be damned, Mike. That wood is lethal at the best of times with the bog and sudden drops in height. It’s been a no-go area for years. There are stretches there I wouldn’t like to wander into on a summer’s day.’ He turned to Fabia suddenly as if he had just remembered she was standing by his side.

‘It’s all right,’ he said calmly. ‘I’ll be back shortly. Keep an eye on Isabella for me and don’t tell her anything; she doesn’t need another set-back.’

‘Where are you going?’ Her voice was shrill with fear but she didn’t care.

‘You know where I’m going,’ he said quietly. ‘Minor is out there somewhere, either in the wood or the surrounding fields. He could be hurt or worse. You don’t expect me to leave him there, do you?’

‘I wouldn’t go, sir,’ the gardener said at the back of them. ‘There are some wicked drifts out there and—’

‘That’s enough, Mike,’ Alex said coldly. ‘You’re going to worry the lady unnecessarily.’

‘He could be dead already,’ Fabia said desperately. ‘You know he could.’

‘Or waiting to be rescued,’ Alex said softly. ‘Listening, waiting, probably scared out of his wits. I can’t leave him out there, Fabia, I’m sorry.’ He had pulled on a large pair of wellington boots as he was talking and clicked his fingers at Major as he straightened. The big dog bounded immediately to his side. ‘I’m tempted to leave him here for safety but he can probably guide me right to where Minor is,’ Alex said slowly. ‘I’ll be back before you know it.’ He touched her cheek gently with leather-clad fingers and then he was gone, down the steps into the snow, shouting orders at Mike as he went, with Major barking enthusiastically by his side.

‘Alex...’ She watched the two figures until they disappeared from sight and then started violently as Mary touched her shoulder gently.

‘Come on in, lass, you’ll catch your death,’ the housekeeper said gently. ‘I’ve made the fire up in Mr Alexander’s sitting-room and you can stretch out on the sofa there until he comes back—unless you’d like to go upstairs for a rest?’

‘No, I’ll wait in the sitting-room,’ Fabia said gratefully. It had Alex’s presence stamped all over it, and somehow she needed that security just at the moment. She felt sick with tiredness.

She was convinced she wouldn’t sleep a wink but the next time she opened her eyes it was early afternoon and the weather had worsened if anything. ‘All the phone lines are down, Miss Fabia,’ Mary said worriedly after Fabia had wandered into the kitchen to find Mary and Jenny in a huddle by the window. ‘And the wind’s getting up.’ Fabia’s stomach knotted with fear.

After a quick cup of coffee she went upstairs to Isabella’s room to check on the old lady and was relieved to find she was almost her old self, sitting up in bed in a quilted bed-jacket with her hair brushed into order and her reading glasses perched on the end of her nose.

‘Is Alexander awake yet?’ Isabella asked as she entered the room. ‘John said he was asleep.’ Fabia glanced swiftly at the old butler sitting by Isabella’s side.

‘Not yet,’ she said brightly. ‘He shot back from America to see you, don’t forget, and has only had cat naps over the last forty-eight hours. The poor man’s exhausted.’ As she spoke she glanced out of the window into the swirling, whining blizzard outside and her heart almost stopped with fear. He was tired and cold and he was out there!