The Secret of Hollyfield House

by Jude Bayton

  He had the grace to smile. “Touché, Miss Farraday.”

  MRS STACKPOOLE HAD FRIED THICK slices of bacon and made us all sandwiches. But I barely tasted the food, so preoccupied was I with the events of the day.

  The knock on the door was unexpected, for it was almost dark. Uncle Jasper went to answer it, returning with Dominic at his side. My heart gladdened with the sight of him.

  I rose. “Is everything all right, Dominic?”

  “Yes, Jillian. Please finish your supper. I was making my way home and thought to stop in and see everyone.” I sat back down and gestured for him to join us.

  Mrs Stackpoole sliced two thick pieces of bread, buttered them and made Dominic a sandwich. He accepted the proffered plate gratefully, and she rose to fetch another mug so he could have tea.

  After swallowing a mouthful, Dominic took a sip of his drink. “I have been with Billy this afternoon. They allowed me to stay for several hours to talk to him.”

  “Decent of them to bend the rules,” Uncle Jasper said generously.

  “Oh, they didn’t really want me there,” Dominic replied disdainfully. “But Billy had a bit of a tantrum this morning, and they couldn’t stand to listen to him shouting and crying. He only stopped when he saw me.”

  “The poor boy,” I said quietly, instantly feeling empathy for the man sitting across from me. “How was he when you left?”

  “Much better, thank you. He has these episodes periodically. They used to be triggered when our parents were angry with him. He would become belligerent and have a fit, only to crumple and cry afterwards.”

  “The lad must feel frightened in such a different environment than he’s used to,” Uncle Jasper commented.

  Mrs Stackpoole said nothing, and I was glad of it. Her feelings about Billy’s guilt were still a sore point between us. I only forgave her because she did not believe it out of spite.

  Dominic turned to face my uncle. “He is so scared. He’s locked in a small room with no windows and nothing to occupy him. Billy is used to being outside in the fresh air, so naturally, he feels trapped.”

  “Do they allow him to do anything?” My knowledge of gaols was minimal.

  “I took some of his books, and they let me leave them for him. That will help immensely. He’s also got some paper and pencils as he likes to draw pictures of animals.” Dominic finished his sandwich and tea. “Thank you for the meal, Mrs Stackpoole. I had no idea how hungry I was.”

  He looked at me searchingly, and I realised he wished to speak with me alone.

  “Uncle Jasper, would you mind if I spoke with Dominic for a moment?”

  “Not at all,” he replied good-naturedly. We both made our excuses, and I led the way down the hall and into the parlour.

  As soon as the door was closed behind us, Dominic spoke. “Did you meet with the solicitor, Jillian?”

  I nodded. Dominic had been in Kendal with Billy all afternoon, so would not have heard any news. “Mr Kemp spent the better part of two hours here, Dominic.”

  “And?” I could see the eagerness upon his face.

  I recounted my discussion with the solicitor, and then told him of my encounter with Peggy Nash. Dominic’s face brightened. I hated to continue with what the solicitor had said, but I did, and watched sadly as the flame of hope faded and was snuffed out.

  “You must not despair,” I said with more enthusiasm than I felt. “It only substantiates what we already believe about his innocence. Kemp suggests we enquire around the village because if Peggy saw Billy, perhaps someone else did too.”

  Dominic seemed to draw strength from that, which pleased me.

  “Did you ask your brother about the piece of note you found in his box?”

  “Yes. It took a while, but he said he found it in the woods by Hollyfield House. He spends a lot of time in the grounds when he’s up at the house gardening, as there are some pretty spots close to the lake.”

  “Did he recollect when he found it?” I was unsure if it had any bearing on the matter.

  Dominic nodded. “He thought it was before the bunnies were born.”

  “Do you know when that was?”

  “Unfortunately, no. But if Peggy is right about Billy being with the rabbits on the day Flynn died, he must have found the note prior to the murder. So, we cannot dismiss its significance yet. However, Billy finding it in the proximity of Hollyfield House, interests me a great deal.”

  “You think there is a connection?”

  He sighed, and I saw shadows underneath his golden eyes. He had to be exhausted. My heart went out to him, and I fervently wished I could be of more help.

  “Well, the reference to the boathouse and the location of the note certainly points to Hollyfield, doesn’t it? After all, it is the only home in that area. Though what relevance it has puzzles me. I have read the blasted thing several times, and I do believe the ‘or else’ is a threat. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Yes. Therefore, the writer of the note saw something they considered wrong and then referred to the boathouse, which would imply a meeting of some sort. Yet why would they want to speak to a person who had disgusted them?” My question hung in the air.

  Our eyes met across the space between us, and then in perfect unison we both spoke at the same time.

  “Blackmail.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  WHEN DOMINIC LEFT FOR HOME, it was late in the evening. Though I believe we both felt a thrum of anticipation at our potential discovery. I was to meet him at the farm the next morning, and we planned to take a look around the boathouse at Hollyfield House.

  Before taking his leave, Dominic collected me into his strong arms and pulled me close. The lingering kiss he pressed against my mouth had caused a spread of warmth and pleasure, yet the question of his relationship with Evergreen burned on my lips. Why could I not ask him? Nevertheless, I slept like a baby, cocooned in a swathe of new love, the taste of Dominic’s kiss still on my mouth.

  I awoke to a miserable and rainy morning. After breakfast, I excused myself and got ready for the walk to Wolfe Farm. When I left, Uncle Jasper was already ensconced with Mrs Stackpoole in his study. They were deep into the preparation of his lecture which would be that night, and I do not think they even heard my farewell.

  It was pouring outside, hardly an ideal day to be out and about. By the time I reached Wolfe Farm, my coat was soaked, and my umbrella sodden and blown inside out. The wind from the lake had played havoc with my hair, and when I stepped inside Dominic’s cottage, I knew I must look like a wild banshee.

  He laughed when I told him as much. Then he pulled off my coat and hung it on a peg to dry in the hallway, then guided me to the fireplace where I took a seat. I was grateful for the hot drink he pressed into my hands while I basked in front of the fire.

  “I cannot believe it is so cold out there. It is May for goodness sake.” I complained.

  “Ah, but you are not in Devon now, Jilly. Here in the hills the weather is changeable. When the wind and rain comes off the lake, the damp burrows into your bones.”

  I shuddered and drank more of the brew, which chased away my chills. “Will we wait for the weather to pass before going to the boathouse?” I had no desire to get soaked once again.

  “I fear the rain is here for the day, but hopefully it will lighten some, and then we can venture out. For now, you’ll have to stay here with me, and I shall make the most of having you as my captive.” He gave a rascally grin, and I smiled back, rather pleased with the intent lacing his words.

  Dominic came over to where I sat and knelt before my chair. He took the mug from my hands and set it down upon the floor. We stared at one another intently. When he reached up and tugged at the pins which held my hair in the remnants of a bun, I sighed. As he removed each one, the weight lessened from my head and my tresses fell down past my shoulders.

  “Oh, Jillian,” he sighed. “Would that I could paint you. You are so beautiful.”

  His eyes were like liquid ambe
r. I wetted my lips.

  “You are like Athena,” he said softly, “with your velvet brown hair cascading down your back.” He threaded his fingers through the mass at my shoulders. “I want to capture you in oil, Jillian. Then you will become immortal.” His face came closer to my own, and I could see the flecks of bronze in his irises, the thick fringe of dark lashes, the hint of whiskers darkening his complexion. Drawing nearer, he released my hair from his hands and slid them down to rest on my shoulders. Gently he pulled me towards him.

  I watched his lips part, and I was in a trance as we came together, our mouths meeting in sweet expectation. It was a tender kiss, slow and purposeful. But it grew in intensity, and as his warm tongue entered my mouth, I knew the moment my needs became urgent. The kiss grew wilder, and my senses abandoned everything, all so I might languish in this time—this moment.

  And then suddenly he stopped. As Dominic drew away from me, I knew he could see the naked hunger on my face. My breath came in gasps from my lips, still swollen from his kiss.

  “Dominic?” Some primal urge had taken hold of me. “Dominic,” I whispered, “I want you.”

  I saw the play of emotion ripple across his face—a mixture of desire and responsibility. As I watched him give into the latter, the heat began waning from my veins, and I was sorry for it to leave.

  “Dearest Jilly.” Dominic lifted his hand and traced the line of my jaw with a finger. “You have the passion of a temptress.” He smiled, and the breath caught in my throat, this feeling he stirred within me was so powerful.

  “Though it becomes more difficult each time we meet, I will not take advantage of you,”

  The surge of disappointment which engulfed me took me by surprise. I almost did not recognise my wanton self as I sat before this sensual man who radiated masculinity. The thought sobered me. I must stop my licentious behaviour before I went too far. Heat rose in my cheeks along with a sense of irritation that I could be such a hypocrite.

  Dominic rose to his feet and gave me an encouraging look. “I believe you and I have much-unfinished business, Jilly.” His expression gladdened me; it showed the promise of things to come.

  “But for now,” he continued. “I must concentrate on Billy and this horrible situation. What I feel for you should be addressed another time, and not tainted with worry and concern which are my constant companions of late.” He went to the hob and stoked the coals.

  I reached down to the ground and collected the pins Dominic had taken from my hair and then went over to a small mirror hanging in the kitchen. With practised hands, I gathered my tresses and secured them neatly into a bun.

  “I prefer it down,” he said softly.

  I had no reply. This role was new to me, and the level of intimacy something I had not known before. Beyond a flirty glance or lewd whistle, I had never been the object of anyone’s desire. Now that role was like a dress I had yet to grow into. Perhaps in time, I would metamorphose from the ingenue I believed myself to be.

  I walked over to the window by the kitchen sink. “How fares our weather?”

  “Wet,” Dominic said drily, coming to stand beside me. The sky was grey, the clouds morose as rainfall pelted against the building. “If we are to go, we might as well get on with it. I think the rain has settled in for the rest of the day.” He walked out into the hall and then returned carrying two coats. He handed one to me.

  “Here, you can wear Billy’s. These are waterproof and will keep us drier than your umbrella.” We slipped on the coats, and Dominic handed me a pair of Wellington boots.

  “These were my mother’s boots, try them on and see if you can wear them. They will keep your feet nice and dry.”

  The boots were a little large, so Dominic found a pair of thick socks which enabled my feet to stay comfortable. We were ready to go.

  WE REACHED THE BOATHOUSE WITH little conversation as it took concentration to navigate the sodden ground as we traversed through the woods. Dominic thought it better to approach the boathouse from the lakeshore, rather than from Hollyfield House itself. He did not want to draw attention to what we were about.

  As we reached our destination, I recognised the boathouse from my first visit to Hollyfield. The base was built of sturdy bricks around a small dock, with windowed rooms up above. Inside, a small boat was anchored, the front of the building wide open to face the body of Lake Windemere, which was choppy due to the weather. The upper level, Dominic had said, was accessible by a staircase inside the boat dock.

  We entered the building, and I glanced at the sailboat bobbing restlessly in its mooring. I kept close to Dominic as he navigated around the perimeter of the damp, quiet place. Here I could still feel the blustering wind, but at least we were sheltered from the cold rain.

  “What is up there?” I wondered aloud.

  “It is where they keep all the sailing equipment,” Dominic answered. Down here remains open to the elements, so the sailboat is chained and padlocked. The storeroom upstairs is for everything else that should be kept dry. It is kept under lock and key.”

  “Have you ever been up there?”

  “Yes, a long time ago. I got permission from the family to use it as a studio. Back then, the LaVelles seldom came to the lake.”

  “Why do you think they are come to stay now?”

  Dominic stopped at the base of the stairs. “According to Perry, Evergreen was indiscreet and exhibited some unladylike behaviour in London. Victor thought it best to bring her here to avoid a scandal.” His face registered distaste.

  That surprised me. Both Evergreen’s actions and Dominic’s expression.

  “Are you shocked that your friend is no paragon of virtue?” Dominic frowned.

  “Not terribly. Though Evergreen told me they were here for Perry to study with an elderly accountant.”

  “Oh, you refer to Nicholas Sneed. Well, that part is true. Victor wants Perry to learn the financial side of the business for when he takes the helm. Come on, let us go up. The door will probably be locked, but I’ll check it anyway.” He turned and mounted the wooden stairs with me close on his heels. When Dominic reached the door at the top, he frowned—it was ajar.

  “Not too secure, then?” I stated.

  “Hmm. The boat is used once the weather is warm enough. I’ll warrant Perry or Marik have been out sailing recently and forgot to lock it back up.”

  I followed him inside.

  It was a large, square room, with a musty scent lingering in the air. The light was dim due to the cloudy day outside, despite a considerable number of windows which lined the length of the space. From the back, the blurry silhouette of Hollyfield House was visible, standing sentry in the distance.

  Ropes, oars and paddles were hung on stout wooden pegs, dotted across the walls. I saw other objects, but they were utterly foreign to me. I assumed they would be articles used on sailboats. Piles of netting lay in heaps across the floor, and I recognised some type of material possibly used for sails. There were two pieces of furniture in one corner, an old sofa and a small table. But the place felt as though it had long been abandoned.

  “Someone’s definitely been here recently,” Dominic said, in direct contrast to my thoughts.

  “Why do you say that?” I asked.

  He pointed to the faded patterned couch where a blanket had been tossed—the table before it bore an empty bottle with two dirty glasses. I glanced at Dominic and he appeared troubled.

  “Is something wrong?”

  He cleared his throat. “Not at all. Come, we should leave.” He turned and abruptly left the room.

  “Wait.” I hurried after him. “I thought we were going to look around and see if we could find anything? Perhaps whoever wrote the note was here and met with someone? After all, there are two glasses in there.”

  But Dominic acted as though he had not heard me and kept going. He went down the stairs, not stopping until he reached the bottom.

  “Dominic, whatever is the matter?”

  He did no
t answer. I tried again. “Has something upset you?”

  He walked over to where the boat rocked. “I think the boathouse is being used for an assignation.”

  I blinked. “I don’t understand.”

  His mouth slanted. “Jillian, there have been people meeting secretly up there, the blanket on the sofa—”

  I finally understood. “Oh.” I felt so foolish and naive. “Who do you think it is?” And then I remembered his comments about Evergreen. “Do you think Evergreen has met someone in Ambleside? Surely there are no potential suitors tucked away here in the country?”

  “Why do you presume it is Evergreen?” His tone was sharp, and it took me off guard.

  “After what you just told me about her behaviour in London, I surmised you thought it likely to be her.” I did not care for the way he had responded. The tiny nagging doubt that he and Evergreen had more than a platonic friendship between them resurfaced. “What do you suggest we do, Dominic? Ask her if she has been coming here?”

  He whirled to face me. “No. We had better stay out of it. At least for now, until I have had more time to think.” He reached for my hand. “Come along. Let us get away from here before we are seen. I am sorry I brought you out in the rain for no purpose.”

  “No need to apologise. I have had quite the adventure.”

  Without a word, he pulled me into his arms, and pressed the warm caress of his mouth against mine. Thoughts of Evergreen tumbled from my mind as I became supple as a wet leaf and leaned against his strong body. The kiss was long and lazy. My senses supine, as sheer pleasure rippled through me as the rain poured outside the boathouse.

  Dominic ended the kiss but kept his forehead pressed to mine. “It seems when I am with you, Jillian Farraday, I cannot keep from touching you.” His golden eyes shone with desire, and I knew mine mirrored his.

  “And I am glad of it,” I said softly, while our fingers wove together.

  “We should go,” he said reluctantly.

  But as we moved away, my foot caught on a coiled piece of thick rope, discarded on the wooden planks of the dock. Dominic tried to catch me, but it was too late. I tripped and fell, my hands taking the brunt of my weight as I landed.