by June Calvin
“James, wake up. James! James!” Thorne shook the limp form as he spoke loudly. After several moments of this Turkish treatment his cousin began to stir and mutter.
“James, get up. We need to know what you told Newcomb about the treasure.” Thorne half lifted the younger man from the bed and shook him by the scruff of the neck.
“Here, try this,” Allison suggested, handing Thorne a glass of water. Not the least pleased to see James dead drunk, she did not bother to suppress her grin when he awoke, sputtering, as the liquid was sloshed in his face.
“Damn you, Thorne, leave me be. Shot the cat, don't y’know.” He swung ineffectually at the marquess.
“You did more than that, dear cousin. You told Newcomb some things about the treasure which only the heirs have any business knowing, didn’t you?”
“ 'S in the keep. Tol’ him that. Don't matter. Went straight to the north wall. Stoopid clunch. Told him—got to be in that tunnel under the well house. Y’know the one. Thorne.”
“The one that leads in the direction of the north wall? I know. And now Newcomb knows.” Thorne’s grim expression told Allison this information had alarmed him.
“What tunnel?” Allison looked bewildered.
“There is a secret entrance in the well house. It leads to the system of tunnels under the castle. Some of them go to the towers and were meant to enable the castle’s defenders to move swiftly and secretly to various parts of the castle. Some lead to sally ports, two that we know of, both very well hidden.”
“Sally ports?” Allison looked back and forth between the two men, seeking enlightenment.
“Escape passages. The exits are some distance from the castle and difficult to find if one doesn’t know they are there.”
“Why didn’t I know about this?” Allison put her hands on her hips. “When were you going to tell me?”
“Never!” The tunnel is choked with fallen debris, particularly near the north wall. Very dangerous. Dark, damp, with lots of false turns and blind ends. The ceilings drop rocks upon explorers right and left. My father took James and me in there once, mainly to show us how dangerous it was. Until tonight I was convinced it had nothing to offer in the way of clues.”
“Mus’ be clues. The Sil’r Lady tried to show ’em to Allison once, didn’t she, Allie? Might again, come to think of it. But no! Can’t. Thorne says.” James’s grievances began to boil up beneath his alcohol-induced lethargy.
“I suppose you told Newcomb about the sally ports, too?” Thorne looked ready to throttle his cousin.
“Tol’ him they existed. Well, knew that already, di’n’t he? Stands to reason. All the castles have ’em, don’ they?”
Thorne grabbed James by the lapel. “Did you tell him where they are?”
“Thorne!” Allison lugged on his sleeves, urging him to let James go, which he did, after a tense moment.
James fell back on the bed and tried to get up once more. “Don' you manhandle me like that, Thorne. Ain’t gonna stan’ for it. What if I did tell him, in a general way? Can' find 'em without my help, can he?”
“Oh, good Lord!” Thorne scrubbed at his face fiercely with his right hand. “They’ve been found before, James. And added their share to the treasure’s death toll, too. Not that Newcomb’s death would grieve me overmuch, but what if he has told others? Sooner or later someone else will be killed down there.”
“Oh, James, how could you?” Allison stared aghast at her inebriated relative.
“Meant well,” Janies mumbled. He had finally managed to stumble to his feet.
Allison touched an imploring hand to Thorne’s sleeve. “I hate to pressure you, but the only way to end the search for the treasure ..
“Is to find it ourselves. Very well, Allison. An early start tomorrow. We’ll give our lady ghost a chance to lead us to it.”
James seized Thorne’s arm and began to shake it eagerly. “D’you mean to say you actually believe there is a treasure? That you are goin’t’search for it?”
Thorne twitched his arm free, but smiled in spite of his annoyance. “Yes, James. Tomorrow morning the three of us have an appointment with a ghost.”
At that, James gave a whoop loud enough to wake the dead and seized Allison by the arms, dancing her around the room joyfully. The brandy bottle on his nightstand began to wobble wildly as they danced. Belying his drunken state, James made a neat catch, though some of it sloshed on Allison, wetting the front of her robe.
“Stop, Jamie. Stop. We’ll get brandy on the carpet.” Laughing, she struggled to detach herself from James’s embrace. Thorne moved to separate them.
Abruptly, James let go of her just as she heard Thorne gasp. “Oh, no!”
“Ouch! Ouch!” James bent down, covering his head with his hands as an umbrella landed repeated blows.
“Assault this poor, defenseless lamb, will you! Wicked debauched creature. And Thorne, too. What beastly work have you two been doing this night? Allison, flee while you may. They shan’t harm you anymore, not while I am here to defend you!”
“Aunt Agatha, stop. Please don’t. Things are not what they seem. Let me explain.” Allison pleaded with the enraged woman to no avail. Her battery continued until Thorne wrenched the umbrella from her hands.
“Foul demon! Hell-bom monster! Look what you’ve done to her, Thorne D’Aumont. Reeking of brandy and keeping two men company in her nightclothes in the dead of the night. Oh, Allison. You are mined. My poor dear.” Agatha lunged for Allison, embracing her in a hug hardly less damaging than her blows had been to James.
While Allison was struggling with Agatha’s excess of solicitude, she heard her mother’s plaintive voice from the doorway. “Wha’st? Whuh go’n on.” Peering over Agatha’s shoulder. Allison saw Delphinia rubbing her eyes sleepily. Unhappily she realized that they had been joined by Mr. Swinton, their maid, Peggy, and assorted other half-awake but fully curious servants.
Thorne helped her free herself from Agatha’s clutches and then drew her within the circle of his arms. “What is going on is that we are celebrating our betrothal.”
“We most certainly are not!” Allison glared up at him and tried to escape the iron hold he had on her.
“A likely story,” Agatha barked. “Delphinia, you should take Allison and spirit her away. Living with her cousin William would be preferable to letting her remain in the vicinity of this womanizing—“
“Oh, Allie. I’m so happy for you!” Delphinia rushed forward to put her arms around Allison, who was spluttering indignantly.
“Jolly good thing!” James had somehow retained the brandy bottle in spite of Agatha’s umbrella. He waved it around gleefully. “Get you two leg-shackled. Find the treasure. Soon all our pro’lems’ll be solved!” He raised the bottle and drank from it for an alarmingly long time.
“Here. Stop that!” Thorne demanded. “You’re already drunk as a lord.”
“But at least now I shan’t be a lord’s ward! Gonna find the treasure and be my own man!” James did another little jig, which quickly ended in a tumble onto the bed. He upended the bottle once more, draining it.
Allison finally managed to struggle free from Thorne and her mother. After three ladylike attempts to get everyone’s attention, she put her fingers to her lips and let loose the long, shrill whistle her father had taught her to use to call back their gun dogs. Abruptly, the tumult in the room ceased.
“Thank you for your attention,” Allison said sarcastically. “First, I am grateful to you. Lord Silverthorne, for being so concerned about my reputation that you would conjure up a nonexistent engagement.” She held up a hand as a swell of protests began.
“But it is quite unnecessary, as I am sure that no one in this room will speak of this event once we leave it. None would wish to begin a scandal, and no scandal can begin if there is no gossip.” She addressed herself particularly to Mr. Swinton and the servants. “Lord Silverthorne and I heard Jamie cry out and separately came to see what was wrong. We had a bit of a
struggle to calm his spirits, which you can see are quite high.”
As James had resumed his dancing, though with the slow, careful pace of a man much the worse for drink, his observers could not doubt this remark. Wide-eyed but apparently willing to be convinced, they nodded their heads and murmured among themselves.
“Aunt Agatha, do you understand that you leapt to a wrong conclusion?” Allison bent a severe look on the older woman.
“You may be sure my lips are sealed, my child. I wouldn’t wish to see you married to this rake for any reason!”
“Oh, Allie!” Lady Catherton, wide awake now, stamped her feet with exasperation. “What a silly chit you are, to be sure. Well, come to bed now, if you please. Thorne is more than able to deal with Jamie, and for you to come to his room was well intentioned but very improper, you know.”
She led her daughter down the hall, ringing a peal over her head the whole way. Allison gave the proper contrite responses, but her mind was on Thorne, whose only response to her denial of their engagement had been an enigmatic smile.
Chapter Fourteen
Allison shrank away from the urgent hand shaking her arm. “Leave me alone,” she mumbled. “I mean to sleep in.”
“But, ma’am. Lord Silverthorne is waiting for you. He sent you some breakfast.”
Allison reluctantly opened her eyes to the feeble light of dawn. Whatever can have possessed Thorne to wake me at this ungodly hour. Then she remembered the night before and sat up abruptly, excitement coursing through her. The Silver Lady! Today we find the treasure.
“Put the tray on my dressing table, Peggy; I will eat as I dress.” Allison made quick work of the toast and ham that accompanied her usual morning coffee. As she munched, she brushed her hair briskly, then pinned it in a simply topknot.
“Oh, Mrs. Weatherby. wouldn’t you like for me to arrange a few curls?”
Allison shook her head. “This is not a lover’s tryst, Peggy. Lord Silverthorne and I have business to conduct.” She put on the habit she had worn yesterday and hurried into her sitting room, only to find it empty. He must have gone down to order the horses. She descended the stairs with indecent speed.
Mimmings eyed her as if she were a hoydenish miss from the schoolroom. “May I be of service, madam?”
“Where is Lord Silverthorne?”
“He hasn’t yet made an appearance, madam, but he sent down a request for horses, so I assume he will be with you shortly.”
“Ah! You are still of a mind to go to the castle this morning.” Thorne’s deep voice accompanied his rapid footsteps down the stairs. “I wouldn’t blame you if you said no, after such a short night’s sleep.”
“Wild horses could not keep me away. I am relieved that you have not changed your mind.” And somewhat surprised, she thought to herself. She would not have been too surprised to wake at noon and find that Thorne and James had departed long since, leaving orders for her to stay away from the castle.
Thorne accepted his hat and riding gloves from Mimmings, then urged her out the door. “I want no one else hurt searching for this treasure.”
“Is Jamie on the way down?”
“I was unable to roust him out of bed.” Thorne’s expression turned thunderous. “After he finished off the brandy bottle, he found his way to the wine cellar for seconds. He is totally incoherent. I suppose we should wait another day so he can accompany us, but having made up my mind to search, I confess to some impatience to begin.”
Shame on James. No wonder Thorne does not want to leave the future of his estate in such hands. “Yes, do let us go on. The Silver Lady stressed the need for haste. She said someone was dangerously close to beating us to the treasure.”
Thorne checked the legs of both their mounts carefully as they conversed. When satisfied, he stood up, his expression uneasy. “Your concern may be justified. Marie Pollard is no longer on the premises. I have several estate workers searching for her, but—”
“Oh, Thorne. What if Newcomb got his hands on her somehow? He could already be ahead of us.”
“Allison, I wish there were some way to pursue this matter without involving you. This could be dangerous.” Deep furrows marred Thorne's brow as he looked down at her, clearly tom.
“Well, there isn’t, so let us have no more roundaboutation. I am the only one who can see the Silver Lady—at least the only one of the heirs. We must hurry.” Allison motioned the waiting groom to toss her up, not wanting to give Thorne more time to dream up a solution that excluded her.
Thorne placed two large leather wallets across the flank of his horse and tied them down. The first clanked as he handled it, indicating the presence of tools. The second wafted a pleasant scent as he carefully arranged it. “I asked Mimmings to order a luncheon for us,” he explained.
Sergeant Bean was nowhere in sight when they arrived at the castle gate. Thorne rode right on through and immediately aroused the ire of the geese. Allison followed, grinning. The birds’ indignation always amused her. Her grin turned into a guffaw when the Lord and Master of Thorne Hall, Silverthorne Castle, and all of the lands and houses for miles in any direction dismounted and found himself the target for a flurry of flapping wings and snapping bills.
“Thunderation,” he yelled. “Get these beasts off of me. Bean! I say, Bean! Don’t just sit there laughing at me, Allison! They know you. Get them off of me.”
Allison dismounted, but doubled over in helpless laughter. “Hoist by your own petard!”
“Very funny,” Thorne said repressively, but Allison could see that his lips were twitching as he leapt into his saddle again, though his mount was dancing about dangerously among the agitated flock.
At that moment Sergeant Bean rode through the archway and into the midst of the geese at a gallop. Reining in sharply, he began making profuse apologies to Thorne in between admonishments to the geese. Over the tumult Allison called out, “I think you had better wait outside the gate, Thorne, so that the sergeant and I can corral his troops.”
With a grin and a wave Thorne did just that. It took Bean and herself several minutes to calm the indignant geese and lure them into their pen by shaking baskets of com. By the time they had finished, Allison had learned that Bean had ridden out with the search party, hoping to find Marie.
“Old John Garmon, the miller, said he saw her at first light, riding on the back of a wagon that was carrying some provisions to the men making up the hay on the home farm. So she left of her own free will, but I know ’twas because she feared Newcomb.”
“You like her very much, don’t you. Sergeant Bean?”
“Aye, ma'am, that I do. A fine stout woman with a good heart. I can’t imagine where she’ll go, with no references nor much in the way of funds.”
“Perhaps Lord Thorne would give you leave to go after her.”
His face lit up. “I’m sure he would, for he is the kindest of masters.” The two of them walked back to the castle gate, where Thorne awaited, holding a lantern.
Allison listened in approbation as he granted Bean’s request. “Is there a groom the geese won't rip apart?”
“Yes, sir. That would be Peter Mason. He often brings me supplies and stays for a game of chess.”
“Before you leave, see that he takes your place here to watch out for Newcomb. Tell Miss Pollard she’ll have a place here if she wishes. One maid is not enough to serve Miss Keisley, Lady Catherton, and Mrs. Weatherby.”
Allison knew she would not agree to allow him to provide them with such a luxury, but Marie did need a position, and Delphinia would be so delighted. Perhaps by the end of this day I shall be a great heiress and can afford her salary myself she thought. “I understand she is an experienced dresser. I know my mother will be in alt to have her.”
Bean bobbed his head. “I’d best be off, then. If that rum touch Newcomb is still about, he might find her.”
They watched Bean saddle his horse and ride away. “I hope that woman has as good a heart as he thinks she does,” Alliso
n observed.
“Yes. From the look on her face last night as her eyes followed him around the room, I suspect his missing limb will not weigh with her. I regret his leaving at this time, however. I suppose we should wait until that groom shows up to watch the gate.”
“Oh, no, Thorne. The Lady asked us to be here early.” Allison glanced eastward. “It is full daylight now.”
“I know.” Looking none too happy about matters, Thorne lifted the leather pouches that had previously been strapped behind his saddle, handing the one with the food to her and shouldering the other. It was obviously heavy and gave off a metallic clank. “Tools,” he explained unnecessarily. “Bring the lantern, will you? Shall we start at the keep?”
“Absolutely.” Allison took his offered arm and crossed the courtyard with a light heart. Somehow, everything is going to work out. I can feel it in my bones.
It seemed her optimism was fully justified. The Silver Lady waited for them in the doorway of the castle's keep.
Thorne halted. “She’s here, isn’t she?”
“Can you see her?”
He squinted. “Not really, but it looks as if there is some sort of haze in the doorway. Is that where she is?”
“Yes, and she wants us to follow her.”
“Ask her if Newcomb is here. I don’t want to be trapped in some dark tunnel with an enemy at my back.”
Allison shook her head. “She’s already moving out of sight. But I am sure if he were here, she would not put in an appearance. So faithful to her father’s wishes! I have been wondering—has she been denied entry into heaven because of this treasure? It seems not to fit with my slender knowledge of theology.”
Thorne shook his head. “Until last night I found it difficult to believe she existed, so I certainly can’t pronounce on such difficult matters. I have to fall back on Shakespeare.