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“How long has it been?” Antonia asked, still quite breathless.
“You’ve been ill for seven days, darling.”
Antonia lay very, very still as she inwardly digested the heartbreaking news about her brother. When she looked at Rosalind she saw how thin and haggard she was and it was brought home to her how much she had endured this last week.
“Thank you, Grandma. You’ve given me all your love, but you’ve given me all your strength too. Now it’s my turn to be strong for you.”
“Dear, I know it will be distressing for you, but it cannot be avoided. I’m going to have Anna go to your room and pack all your lovely things. When you are feeling strong enough, tomorrow or the next day, we will remove to my little dower house.”
Antonia stared at her as if she had gone mad. “There is absolutely no need to pack anything. Lamb Hall is our home. I shall never give it up.”
“Darling, all our time has run out. All my things are packed and crated and I’ve notified Watson and Goldman of the accident.”
Antonia sat bolt upright. “How? When?” she demanded.
“James took the letter to the posting inn a couple of hours ago.”
Antonia threw back the covers and struggled to her feet.
“My God, child, what are you doing? Get back into bed immediately,” Roz cried with great alarm.
“I’m going to get the damned letter back. I’m going to be Anthony!”
“Darling, if we carry on this deception any longer, we are going to be in grave trouble when we are discovered. What we’ve done is against the law. It is a criminal act, to say nothing of being morally wrong.”
“There I don’t agree with you. Criminal perhaps, but to me it would be morally wrong for Bernard Lamb to step into Anthony’s shoes, Anthony’s home, or Anthony’s title!” She was almost completely out of breath now. Her chest rose and fell painfully as she gasped for air.
When Antonia stood up the room swirled about her. She put out a hand to steady herself. “I’m going to take Anthony’s place, not just for now, but indefinitely.”
Roz saw her sway and said whatever she thought would appease her or persuade her to get back into bed. “I’ll send Mr. Burke to the posting inn to try to recover the letter.”
“No,” Antonia said firmly, “I’m Lord Lamb; it’s my responsibility.”
Rosalind feared Antonia was again becoming delirious, but she had expended all her energy and in the face of Antonia’s fierce determination she was silenced.
“You lost Anthony, you almost lost me, but you’re not going to lose your home!” Antonia was adamant.
She donned Tony’s undergarments and decided that they were not all that different from her own underdrawers. She put on his shirt, then searched his night table for studs. She couldn’t believe how weak she felt. Before she managed to get the collar attached, she decided it was a fiddling business invented to try the patience of a saint. She pulled on a pair of the straight-legged pantaloons she’d bought Tony in London, fastening the straps under her instep, then walked over to the mirror to appraise her appearance.
“Thank God my breasts are small,” she murmured. Then she laughed. “I never thought to hear myself say that!” She imagined the front of the starched shirt was still somewhat raised, so she opened his wardrobe to find a brocaded waistcoat. She stood absolutely still until a wave of dizziness passed. Jehoshaphat, if she felt this exhausted from simply dressing herself, how was she going to ride into Stoke?
The sponge bath she’d been given earlier made tendrils curl about her face, so she again brushed her hair back and tied it with a black ribbon. She stared at her reflection. It was Anthony, yet it was Anthony blended with a smattering of Antonia. Finally she decided it was Tony, the combination of both of them.
She felt strange inside, as if she was waiting for something, and yet it was combined with a sinking feeling that whatever it was would never materialize. Also, a great feeling of melancholy engulfed her. She sighed sadly, trying to accept what had happened. Today must be gotten through … and then there would be tomorrow.
Tony gathered her wits together with difficulty. Here she was wasting valuable time envisioning tomorrow when the thing that was so pressing was the letter. She must get it back at any cost. She gripped the oak banister as she descended the stairs, afraid that with each step her knees might buckle under her.
Tony asked Bradshaw to saddle Neptune, because he would be swifter than Venus. Bradshaw led out the horse and was about to ask the young master if he was feeling better, but the flushed look on his face told him Anthony was not fully recovered. Bradshaw helped him into the saddle and stood shaking his head as he watched Lord Lamb take off in his usual breakneck fashion.
Tony was weak with relief when she reached Stoke and the posting inn came into view. Now, if luck was on her side, the mail coach would not yet have departed for London. When she dismounted she had to lean against Neptune for strength. She was saved from having to gather her energy to go inside because at that moment an ostler touched his cap and came to take her reins. “G’day to ye, Lord Lamb.”
“Good day, Toby. The mail coach hasn’t departed yet, has it?” Tony asked anxiously.
“Oh, aye, sir. Missed it by half an hour at least. Did ye have summat to post?”
“Damn and set fire!” Tony swore, then she was racked by a deep cough that scorched her lungs. At the ostler’s words Tony’s heart had plummeted to her boots. So near, yet so far. Her resolve hardened. She must get that bloody letter!
“Where does it stop next?” Tony demanded.
