Lord Chester smiled at his wife, and Evan saw no reason to object – one woman, especially one as quick thinking as Hyacinth, Lady Chester, would not slow them down.
“As you wish.”
With those words, the parlour suddenly burst into movement, as everyone stood at once, and rushed to prepare.
<<<
Rose woke with a start, the aching cold biting into her. She had dreamed – dreamed of being held in Lord Wrenton’s arms, of being kissed, of feeling safe. The hard wood beneath her, and the darkness surrounding her were a shock after those dreams.
Memory rushed back, and a sharp sob escaped her lips. She pushed herself up to sit, tightening the blankets about her shoulders in the vain hope that they might make her feel warmer. Looking up, she saw that the colour of that faint light above had changed – now, it was dimmer, and contained that golden tone that was characteristic of late afternoon, as the sun began to set.
Fear filled her. Night was falling, and she so very much did not wish to be trapped here through the night. But what choice did she have? She stood, feeling a little unsteady and light headed, and looked around her. Nothing was visible, of course, but the faint hint of the chains rising up into the space above her. Could she use them to get up there?
Rose went to one corner, and touched the chain. It was cold, like everything here, but not impossibly so. The links were very large – large enough that she could curl her fingers into them – but not so large, she thought, that she would be able to insert the toe of her boot into them. Which fact would make it almost impossible to climb the thing. She tugged on it – nothing happened. So, at least, the pulley above was locked in place. She reached high and took hold of it, letting the blankets drop for a moment, and lifted her feet from the platform. It took her weight without moving.
She set her feet down again, and picked up the blankets, shivering. The chain hung barely a foot from the bricked walls of the shaft, in the corner. Could she use the wall to assist her? Rose squeezed in between the chain and the corner, considering what might be required to work her way up – could she rest her back on the wall, use her hands to hold and pull, and brace her feet against the chain for support?
It seemed like a possible option, but it was along way up. Did she have the strength to get that far? She suspected, horribly, that she did not. But she had to try. She twisted the blankets, and tied them around her waist, where they might provide at least a little padding against the wall, then squeezed herself into place.
Reaching up, she hooked her hands into the chain and pulled, lifting her feet to brace against the chain. It took a few tries for her to even work out how to move in such a way that her back inched up the wall, but she eventually achieved it. She rested, her feet braced on the chain, her back hard on the wall. At this rate, it could take her hours to reach the top, if she could at all – and, when she did, how would she get onto the landing? She had no idea of exactly how the chain crossed over the lip of the shaft.
Still, she had to try, before the last of the dusk light was gone. She pushed up again, and again, a steady routine that moved her up in painstakingly slow increments. Her shoulders screamed, and her legs began to ache, the muscles quivering from strain – but she was only halfway there, if that. She rested, braced against the wall, then went to move again.
Her foot slipped, and she screamed, grabbing a desperate hold on the chain as she slipped down a few feet.
She caught herself, and managed to brace against the wall again, heart pounding, tears on her cheeks. She was afraid to go on, afraid to go back, and rapidly running out of strength.
Above her, the sliver of light suddenly brightened, and the creak of a door opening pierced the silence.
<<<
The river road had never seemed so long. Evan watched as they rounded the corner, and the ice house façade came into view. In front of it, the ground looked… wrong. He rapped on the hatch, and slipped it open to call to his coachman.
“Stop short of the building by quite some way – I want to examine the ground.”
“Yes, Milord.”
They came to a stop, and Evan flung himself out of the carriage, waving to stop the second carriage before it went too far. Then he turned and walked carefully towards the building. The space before it bore clear traces of carriage wheels, indenting the muddy soil and breaking the layer of melting snow which covered it. Closest to the door, the ruts were deepest, as if the carriage had stood for some time before moving again. The width and depth of those ruts was very similar to the ones he had found in the clearing on his property.
Hope filled him, and he ran to the door, pulling his keys from his pocket. The small door, inset into the larger ones, looked as it always did… except… there were some odd scratches near the keyhole. The key, when inserted, turned slowly, and required more force than usual, as if something in the lock was not right.
Evan was more certain, by the minute, that someone had been here, someone who should not have been. The door opened, and he rushed in, reaching for the lantern. It wasn’t there.
He stopped, and looked around, the last rays of sunset from outside barely illuminating the space. The lantern sat on the other table, past the door to Mr Parkins’ office. He grabbed it, and the tinderbox beside it, failing to light it twice in his hurry. Once it finally took, he ran to the stairs, just as others began to come through the door behind him.
At the bottom of the stairs, he stopped, shocked. A pile of what looked like broken furniture clogged the stairs and jammed the door to the ice house. He studied it – it looked as if it had been most intentionally placed in such a way as to ensure that the door could not be opened. Evan cursed, and began to pull the pieces away, handing them back to the men behind him, so that they could be passed up and out of the stairwell.
He could hear nothing from inside, and his heart beat harder with fear – if Lady Rose was in there, why could he hear nothing? Surely, she would have heard them by now – was she unconscious? Or… terrifying thought… had Farquhar given her too much ether and…
He would not allow himself to think it. They would find her. They had to.
The last piece of timber finally came away from the door, and he opened it, stepping through into the ice house, lantern held high. The vast space was as always – the ice lined walls reflecting back the lantern light, and the only sound the trickle of water. Then that thought was proved wrong.
From the direction of the shaft for the lift platform came a strange strangled sound – almost of pain. He sprinted in that direction, the others following. The door was not quite shut – he grabbed it, and pulled, thrusting himself through the expanding gap. The sound came again, from above him.
He looked up, just in time to see Lady Rose begin to fall, from a position between the chain and the wall in that corner. He thrust the lantern behind him, releasing it as he felt other hands take it, even as he flung himself forward to catch her before she reached the unyielding timber of the platform.
They landed in an ungainly tangle, the chain still between them, and he clutched her to him with desperate care. She opened hazed eyes to meet his own, then smiled, and went limp in his grasp.
The Duke appeared by his side, and gently assisted in untangling her from the chain, allowing Evan to rise to his feet. Once he stood, he bent down and lifted her, cradling her against him. Her skin was cold to the touch, and too pale, but her heart beat steadily and her breathing was even. Relief flooded him.
He turned, and carried her back the way that they had come, the others following, until they reached Mr Parkins’ office.
Chapter Fourteen
Fear had frozen her in place, no matter the increasing shaking of her muscles. What if that sound heralded the return of her abductor? What might be her fate? She heard the rumble of voices, but none were clear, then the sound of things thumping and bumping. She could not move – any movement on her part would make noise, just from the chain links shifting – but she h
ad to move, before she fell. Indeed, she was not at all sure that she could get back down without falling, even if she tried – but not to try would mean a certain fall.
Still she did not move. The sounds came closer, now seeming as if they were out in the main ice house area. Without intending to, she whimpered, as her leg muscles cramped excruciatingly. She stifled it, but looked to the door below in even greater fear. Her muscles cramped again, harder, and the pain sent waves of grey over her vision. Her foot began to slip, and another whimper escaped her, despite her best intentions.
Then, as lantern light blinded her, she lost all hope of maintaining her position, and began to fall.
As she did, the thought flitted through her mind – ‘this was not how I imagined my Christmastide ending – with my death in a fall in an ice house. I had rather hoped for it to end with a marriage proposal instead’.
Then she reached the bottom, but what she collided with was not the harsh solidity of wood – it was, instead, something more yielding, something which grasped her with firm hands, even as it collapsed under her. The darkness wanted to swallow her, but she forced her eyes open, attempting to understand how wood had developed hands.
Before her, bare inches away, were Lord Wrenton’s deep brown eyes. He had saved her. She felt herself smile, even as the darkness dragged her down.
<<<
Mr Parkins’ office contained a somewhat worn couch, as well as his desk and chairs the shelves and side tables which had previously existed were gone – obviously the source of the timber they had removed from the stairwell. Evan dropped onto the couch, still holding Lady Rose, and her sister rushed to him, reaching out to touch Lady Rose’s cheek.
“She is icily cold! We must warm her. Someone please set a fire in the grate.”
As others rushed to do so, Evan thought, amused, that at least they had firewood, in the form of all of those pieces of timber which had been blocking the stairwell. He gently brushed Lady Rose’s hair back from her forehead, thanking God that he had arrived in time to catch her as she fell. Hyacinth busied herself with checking every inch of Lady Rose, then looked up at Evan.
“This, twisted around her waist, looks like a carriage blanket. I wonder how she came to have that, and why is it tied around her?”
“As far as why it’s tied around her, I suspect that she used it to protect her back from the wall – she was trying to climb the chain of the ice platform, you know – I barely caught her as she fell.”
Her sister’s eyes widened, but she did no more than give a curt nod, then turned back to the knot in the blankets at her sister’s waist. Soon, her clever fingers had it undone, and she eased the twisted tangled from under Lady Rose as Evan lifted her to allow it. He cradled Lady Rose close, praying that his own warmth would help her enough, until the fire was started.
“There is something on these blankets – some embroidery or a monogram. It is a bit scraped, I assume from the brick of the wall, but it’s there – might it provide a clue?”
Evan looked up, bringing his thoughts back from his contemplation of Lady Rose’s bravery and resourcefulness in her attempts to save herself, and looked at the corner of the blanket which Lady Chester held before him. The thread was blue, and a little hard to see on the dark grey blanket, but the shape seemed familiar. He stared for a moment, then realised – it was the same FF that they had found on the ether-soaked handkerchief.
“It’s the same as the monogram on that handkerchief. More evidence. At least the scoundrel had the decency to leave her a blanket!”
Lady Chester turned the fabric and studied it carefully, up close to the lantern.
“You’re right. It is the same. I will fold it and make sure that it stays in a safe place. We can use our own carriage blankets to wrap her for now.” She turned away from him, and called across the room, “Kevin, can you bring me some carriage blankets from our carriages please?”
Her husband turned, nodded, and left the room. Evan looked across to where the others had managed to achieve a decent fire. He needed to get Lady Rose as close to it as was safe. Carefully, cradling her close, he pushed to his feet, then crossed the room. Awkwardly, he folded himself to the floor, Lady Rose still held across his lap, and edged as close to the fire as he dared. The heat was most welcome.
“There should be tea, a kettle, and a pot in that cupboard over there.”
Lady Chester nodded, and went to find it, just as Lord Chester returned with the blankets. Evan was pleased to see that Lady Rose’s cheeks were now a faint shade of pink, but fear still filled him – he had hoped that she would have woken by now… but he had to have faith that she would wake soon – he could see no sign of any hurt to her, beyond the bitter cold having sapped her natural warmth. He wrapped the blankets about himself and her, keeping his own body heat in to help warm her. As he adjusted his position, her eyelids fluttered, and he breathed a sigh of relief as her eyes opened, and her confused hazel gaze met his. He could not prevent himself – he bent to kiss her, feather soft, directly on her lips.
She sighed, and allowed her eyes to close again.
“We’ll have you home soon enough, my Lady, you’re safe, just rest. You can tell us all of it later, once you are well.”
<<<
Lady Rose seemed barely aware of the slow carriage journey back to Wrenton Hall through the darkness and, once settled in a warmed bed, fell into a deep exhausted sleep. Someone sat beside her at all times, lest she wake and be afraid. Evan would have claimed that duty as exclusively his, but he knew that he needed to deal with other matters first. He left the room as the Duke and Duchess settled into the armchairs to watch over their daughter.
Downstairs, he re-read the ransom note, and considered what should be done. He very much doubted that Farquhar would check the ice house until after the stated time for the delivery of his price, which meant that they could arrange a suitable trap. He would still leave a sealed box in the designated spot, but it would contain only a letter, laying out the details of the evidence they held against him, and making a simple offer – face being brought before the magistrate for kidnapping and extortion, or accept a fair sum of money for his business, and be escorted to a port, and seen onto a ship to the Americas. Evan suspected that he knew what Farquhar’s choice would be.
They would, of course, be hidden all about the old abbey ruins, ready to surround the man the moment he had opened the box. Either way, he would not leave the ruins unescorted. Evan drew out pen and paper and settled to write the necessary letter.
<<<
Rose woke once during the night, feeling dazed and dry mouthed, starting from sleep with a jolt of fear, which soon dissipated when she realised that she was in her pleasant room at Wrenton Hall.
The only light was from the fire, which burned brightly in the grate. By that light, she could see, in the armchair beside her bed, Lord Wrenton – dare she think of him as Evan?
It warmed her heart that he slept there, in a no doubt uncomfortable posture, to be with her, to be certain that he was there when she woke. Carefully, so as not to disturb him, she crawled from the bed, and sought the chamber pot behind the screen in the corner.
Every part of her ached, but at least she was no longer cold. The necessities dealt with, she slipped back into the bed, lying as close as she could to where he sat.
His hand draped loosely over the arm of the chair, and, greatly daring, she reached out to take it in hers. He had come for her. Had caught her as she fell… when she thought back to those dark moments in the ice house, when she had wondered if he had intended her harm, she was stunned that she had ever considered that possible. Had he intended her harm, she was quite certain that he would have let her fall.
Smiling, she drifted back into sleep. She did not wake again until the following afternoon, when the light through the windows was already dimming towards dusk. Confused, she looked about her. Why was Lord Wrenton in her bedchamber?
What…. Memory rushed in a
s she shifted and her muscles complained. The ether, the ice house, the attempted climb up the lift platform shaft.
“Oh!”
Lord Wrenton’s eyes snapped open, and a smile transformed his face.
“My dear Lady Rose! I am so glad to see you awake. Shall I call for tea?”
“Yes. Tea, and cakes!”
He laughed softly, and leant forward to kiss her softly, just a delicate brush of his lips, yet one which sent heat flooding through every part of her. Then he rose, and went to the bellpull. Having sent a footman to arrange the tea and cakes, he returned to her side.
“How much do you remember of what happened?”
“I… I am not sure. I woke early, could not get back to sleep, and chose to go for a walk in the gardens. I walked along the paths… to the hedges near the gazebo? Yes, to the hedges. I remember stopping to look at that most wonderful view to the mountains… and then… I am not sure – something happened, and there was the smell of ether... and blackness. I woke up in utter darkness, cold and aching, and promptly cast up my accounts. I could not think very clearly, but after some time, I worked out that I must be in an ice house.”
“And you did not see the person who took you there?”
“No, not at all. I must have been insensible for a long time, I think. And then it took me what felt like hours to explore where I was, by touch. I found the meltwater channel by sound, and could at least wash out my mouth, and I found some apples in a basket, so I had food, but I was so very cold. In the end, I found my way to the platform lift shaft.”
“Why there?”
“The door to the stairs was jammed shut somehow, locked, or barred? I don’t know, but I could not open it. I remembered the lift room, and thought to at least explore it. It was, in there, a little less cold, once I had pulled the door to, so I stayed there. I slept for a while, and when I woke, I knew that I had to try to get out, whilst I still had some strength left. I was not strong enough. If you had not arrived when you did….”
A Bluestocking for a Baron : Book 3: Rose: Clean Regency Romance (A Duke's Daughters - The Elbury Bouquet) Page 11