Page 34 of Snowy and the Seven Doves
“I have a man here somewhere—ah, Blue.” The red-headed man loomed out of the darkness as if on cue. “What’s the news?”
“No sign of a trap, Mr. White. The geezer what lives ’er ’as gone out and took the young ’un wiv ’im. Tommy’s watching the mews, sir. No trouble that side, either.”
“Thanks, Blue. Whistle if someone arrives while we’re inside.”
“I thought I’d come wiv you, Mr. White. Tommy can watch. Mistress Lily’ll ’ave my balls if’n anythin’ ’appens to you.”
“I need the pair of you outside keeping watch, you in the front, and Tommy in the mews. Lord Stancroft and I will let Tommy know on our way to the garden.”
Blue opened his mouth to argue but was interrupted when a troop of horsemen came galloping up.
“Snowy!” the leader greeted him, then nodded to Stancroft. “Stancroft.”
“Drew? What are you doing here?” Lord Andrew had arrived with four of his father’s retainers.
“I’ve come to bring you this.” Drew dropped something out of his hand, and Snowy caught it. A key.
“The key to the front door,” Drew explained. “Deffew took me aside at the Redepenning ball, told me what you were about, and asked me to give you this. Apparently, he was afraid the butler would find the unlatched door at the back.”
Snowy tossed the key in the air and caught it again. “So, we just walk in the front door?”
“The butler will be asleep, Deffew says. So, yes.” Drew swung off his horse and handed the reins to one of the other riders, to whom he spoke in a language Snowy did not understand.
“My men will stay with yours,” Drew said. “Let’s go.”
Inside, Snowy led the way up the stairs.
“The first floor, turn toward the back and it’s the second door on the right,” Drew said.
The door was locked, but the key was on a side table. His brother was locked in, then.
When Snowy stepped inside the room, his first thought was that the locked door was superfluous. The room reeked of the stale odors of vomit and sweat. A single candle inside a glass chimney gave enough light to show Ned shifting restlessly on the bed, his covers pushed off, the shirt he wore bunched around his waist and sodden with sweat.
He moaned as he tossed his head left and right on the pillow. He was unattended, and a touch to his forehead confirmed he was burning up.
Stancroft brought the candle closer, and the three men stared in pity at the bruises and open wounds on his face, legs, and hips. Someone had made a rough effort to splint one arm, but otherwise, his injuries were untreated. However, the fever was the biggest worry.
“Let’s get him out of here,” Drew proposed.
Snowy nodded. “I’ll take his head.” He collected one of the blankets from the floor, pulled the shirt down to cover Ned’s modesty, then wrapped the blanket around him, being careful of the arm. Ned whimpered and struggled.
“I’m taking you to safety, Ned,” Snowy murmured, but the patient raised his voice in a shout of outrage.
Stancroft hurried to the door to keep watch. Snowy, at a loss for what else to do, began to sing the second verse of his mother’s lullaby, keeping his voice low.
Sleep in peace this night mydarling;
Gently sleep, you lovelyboy.
Ned stopped fighting, and Snowy was able to adjust the burden so Ned’s head rested on his shoulder. Drew took the young man’s feet. The next two lines took them to the door and out into the hall.
As you sleep, I see yousmiling,
What bright visions bring youjoy?
“Mama, it hurts,” Ned whimpered.
“Keep singing,” Drew advised.
