He breathed a sigh of relief as the walls of Lavenham came into view. He didn’t know how he was going to pay his creditors without leaving himself sitting in an empty shell of a place, but at least he had four decent walls and a roof over his head. He frowned miserably. The Caithwell diamond would have come in very handy, still, he could wait. If his daughter was telling the truth there was always the possibility that the child would be a girl. He’d only have to fend off the wolves for a few more months.
He tramped up to the front door and was pleased when it opened almost immediately. His butler gave a short bow and took his travel worn coat and hat before he spoke.
“His Lordship arrived only half an hour ago. He is in his room bathing. Quite a shock, he gave us. We had heard the news and thought him dead. The housekeeper was waiting for instructions about the blacks.”
Lavenham almost staggered back at the news.
“My son! My son is here?”
The butler nodded stiffly.
“He looks somewhat different. You should go up to him.”
The Earl took the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him. He burst into Edward’s room and slithered to a stop as he saw an emaciated vagabond sitting hip deep in the bath.
“Who in God’s name are you? Get out of my house!” The Earl reminded himself to lay off his butler at the first opportunity.
The person in the bath raised a limp eyebrow.
“Father, it’s me, Edward. I’ve come home.”
Lavenham’s knees buckled as he heard his son’s familiar voice. He grabbed the bedpost and swallowed hard as he looked at the man in the bath again. He looked somewhat like his daughter. Dark chestnut hair, high cheekbones and vivid green eyes, but this was not his son. Edward was rounder, a lot rounder, rotund even with plump cheeks and a ruddy complexion.
“I don’t know you. You sound like my son, but you are not him.” Lavenham squinted as Edward blinked slowly up at him.
“I can assure you that I am, father. I can even prove it.” The naked man stood up from the water and turned to the side. There on his hip was a bright strawberry mark, the same one that he had been born with some twenty years previously.
The Earl sat down quickly on the bed and stared at the slim man who stood naked and dripping before him.
“Good God! What happened to you? You do know that we have been searching for you for more than a month. Dear heavens! A man had died because of you.” Lavenham rose again as his anger replaced his shock. “Have you any idea of the trouble you have caused? Have you no notion of how much embarrassment I will suffer when I attempt to explain your sudden reappearance only days after a man died, accused of your murder!” His voice rose by degrees and Edward grabbed a bath sheet. He wrapped it around him as he stepped from the water.
“I have no idea what has been going on. I’ve been trapped in that bloody great castle for weeks. I’ve barely eaten and only managed to survive because the thick stone walls created some condensation. I’ve literally licked the moisture from the walls.” He struggled into his robe and pulled the belt tightly around his middle. He was rather surprised to find that the left over cord fell nearly to the floor.
The Earl sat down again and gazed at his son.
“I think that you had best tell me the whole story from beginning to end. I cannot fathom how we can recover from this, but we must do something. I already have the spectre of Denvers out for my blood. I cannot cope with the thought of the law on my tails as well.”
Over the next few hours, Edward related his tale. Several times he sounded as though he would be unable to go on, but he continued until the end.
“I was so angry with Denvers; out of my mind with fury at his actions and at his engagement to Anne. I wasn’t thinking clearly when I devised my plan. I thought it would only mean a few days of him stewing in the local prison, not that he would eventually die. I set up the scene of my death with some rare beef supplied by the Duke, and then climbed out of the bedroom window. I took a horse from the yard and made it to town where I was going to wait for Latham and Rookwood.” He paused as he drank from a glass of water.
The Earl frowned deeply.
“What on earth were you thinking? I don’t understand. We could have seen off Denvers in another way. You didn’t have to be so damned dramatic.”
Edward wiped his mouth before he continued.
“You haven’t heard the rest of it. It gets considerably worse. Earlier in the afternoon that day Latham and Rookwood had shared one of the women at the inn. A third woman was unavailable due to a large funeral party arriving unexpectedly and the inn-keeper needing her to serve in the tap room, but she was going to be available that night and had agreed to meeting us all there.
While I waited for my friends’ arrival, I overheard more of the newly dead man. He had been interred that day over in the next village after drowning in the village pond. I left a note with instructions for my friends and hurried to the graveyard. It took but an hour to ride there, dig up the remains and slice off the lower part of the poor fellow’s leg. I take no pride in my actions now, but at the time I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
I reburied the body and raced back to the farm near Ormond. Jenkins had been boasting of his prize porkers in the inn and I simply couldn’t resist temptation. I tore off my coat, unwrapped the leg, and chucked it all in the pen with the swine. I was back at the castle less than twenty minutes later and left the horse where I found it before I climbed back up to my room. Now this is where the prank all began to go wrong. Earlier that same evening I had discovered that there was a strange draught coming from between the panels on one of the walls. Knowing the age of the castle, I assumed that there would be some secret tunnels. I recalled that Rookwood’s own home is riddled with the damn things and that we had often used to sneak along them and into the ladies rooms.
I assumed that the mechanisms for opening the secret door at Ormond would be similar and it was easy enough to open. I slipped inside and closed the door, but therein was my first mistake. Rookwood always kept his passageways lit. Ormond clearly does not. Neither do his secret doors have the same mechanism for opening the door from the inside. I felt along the passageway for another exit and was lost within the walls in minutes as I searched for another way out.” He wiped the back of his hand over his brow as he recalled the feeling of entrapment.
The Earl shook his head.
“You mean that you have been stuck there for all this time. But you must have had some nourishment.”
Edward nodded miserably.
“Two slices of rotting beef and a crust of mouldy bread. I made them last about a week. In the end I lost track of time. I found a slit of a window and stayed there where a little light showed in the corridor. I called out many times but the window was high and I was never heard. It was there that the water gathered each morning as the dew settled.” He took another long gulp of the water in the glass and smacked his lips together. “You will never believe how good that tastes.” He sat down beside his father. “I only discovered a way out when I heard footsteps and saw a shadowed figure one day. I followed him to the kitchen. It was all I could do not to run out of the door and grab the cakes that the cook had left on the table and escape out of the kitchen door, but I knew that if I wanted to remain undetected, I would have to bide my time. That moment came about a week ago. I thought the woman had gone out and I left my hiding place, but before leaving, I had to have some food and water. I was about to grab some freshly baked cakes and a jug of ale when the fearsome woman returned. I was never so afeared for my life. She came at me brandishing a huge copper pan, but fortunately fear lent wings to my feet and I dashed for the door.
The rest of the story is unremarkable. I knew that I had to get home and relieve you of your fears but I looked like a vagrant. My clothes were caked in dried mud from the initial adventure with the leg and the pigpen and my hair was thick with matted cobwebs. I’ve had to beg to be allowed into an inn to bathe and even then th
ey treated me like a criminal, questioning my ability to pay and my credentials when I asked for loan of a horse. I am weary, hungry, and footsore but at least I’m now home.” He sighed deeply and lay back on the bed.
His father gazed down at his son. Fear gripped him as he thought about what lay ahead.
“You cannot remain here, Edward. I’ll ask John to help you with your trunks but you will have to leave soon.”
Edward peered up at the Earl.
“You have to be joking if you think that I am going anywhere now I have at last found my way home. It was not my fault that Denvers died. There was no intention of that happening on my part. I would have thought Latham and Rookwood would have come forward and revealed the jest. I cannot believe that they let a man die without speaking up. Says a lot for their loyalty though.”
Lavenham groaned in despair.
“Get up and get dressed. You cannot stay here, I tell you. You could be hanged yourself. Judges hate to be made fools of and so do influential men. I really thought that you had died and although I am more than relieved that you are alive, I cannot condone your actions even if they were originally made in jest. You had a whole week to make your presence known and yet even though you say that you were starving, you made the decision that your pride should come before your appetite and your good sense. You should think yourself lucky that I am prepared to help you at all. I will speak to Lord Wethersby. He may be able to help us. His ship is leaving for America in two days. I mean to see that you are on it.”
Edward sat up quickly.
“You jest, of course. You cannot mean to disinherit me.”
“No, not disinherit, but disown at least for the next couple of years. Even then it may be difficult for you to return to these shores. If I am able to arrange your passage, I will work towards clearing your name but it may be a long and difficult process. You should prepare to live in a foreign land for the foreseeable future.”
Edward stared at his father as realization of his crime dawned for the first time.
“But I never meant for it to go so far. If I had found my way out of the castle sooner I would have come forward.”
His father shook his head again.
“You had a weeks’ worth of opportunity. Plenty of time to set Denvers free, but your pride was too much to lose and so a man lost his life and now haunts those still living. Gather your belongings, Edward. You are bound for distant shores.”
Giles had lain in bed for three days before the sickness abated.
After the initial shock of his resurrection, general pandemonium had ensued. From Charlotte’s wild enthusiasm to his wife’s serene acceptance of the situation and the doctor’s general amazement, nothing seemed remotely normal.
Apart for the near continual vomiting, he had waking dreams of being strangled and it was only after Geoffrey related that he had failed to catch him that Giles remembered the snake that coiled around his neck. He continually woke from his slumber fighting for his life and he had forbidden Anne to sleep in the room with him for fear that he might mistake her in the night and try to fight her.
Anne only wanted to be with him. She didn’t care about his dreams or his nightmares. It was only when she walked into the bedroom on the second morning that she realized the severity of the situation. The curtains of the bed lay strewn across the floor. One of the bedposts had been broken from the frame and Giles lay sweating between the sheets, his arms and chest covered with bruises from his fight with his demons.
Doctor Michaels assured him that the dreams were just the side effects of the potion that Charlotte had prescribed. The combined concentrated powders of the fungi, Amanita and its antidote, Atropine had worked to not only make Giles feel stupendously strong, but had also caused a cessation of sweating, salivation and the more personal bodily functions.
The resultant hallucinations of the two strong poisons were now the main problem that he faced. That the Amanita had induced a coma that lasted for nearly twenty-four hours was something that even Charlotte, though she hoped for it, could not have predicted. Doctor Leven had assumed Giles to be dead. Only Charlotte had guessed what had happened, but when confronted with Doctor Michaels' adamant claim that her cousin was dead, even she had had some moments of doubt. When Geoffrey confirmed that he hadn’t caught Giles firmly, she had feared that all her efforts were for nothing.
Giles glanced at the clock on the mantle. Charlotte was almost due for one of her visits but he didn’t think he could bear for her to come into the room and see him looking so frail.
The last bowl of broth that Craddock had patiently fed him had stayed down and he felt the desire to leave his bed. Quickly sliding to the edge of the bed, he rose and grabbed the robe that lay over the chair. His legs were a little unsteady, his head swam for a few moments before the door behind him clicked open, and the scent of vanilla and roses hit the air. He turned slowly to see Anne enter the room. She closed the door behind her and quietly turned the key.
Giles raised a curious eyebrow.
“Has my young cousin fallen down the well? This is her normal time for a visit.”
Anne smiled and walked towards him.
“I asked her to exercise the horses with Geoffrey and Callum. They were getting fat standing about the stables all day and I cannot help them due to my condition.”
Giles swallowed his own breath as she stood before him and peeled the shoulders of her gown down over the tops of her creamy white arms.
“You will be fine to ride for weeks...Ah!” He stopped speaking as desire suddenly flared in her eyes.
She walked slowly around him, trailing her fingertip under the edge of his robe and along his collarbone.
She bit gently into the lobe of his ear.
“Yes, my love. I will be riding for weeks and weeks. There is nothing to fear.” She paused in her torture of him as he fought to remain still. The weeks of not seeing her had nearly killed him and he wanted her to complete her little game. She pulled his robe from his shoulder and pressed her succulent lips to his flesh. It was all too much. His pent up passion, his desire, his overbearing need of her rose up so fast the all his blood raced to his groin and left him light-headed. Anne gave a small laugh and put a finger to his chest. She pushed him gently backwards. He didn’t even attempt to resist as he fell back onto the covers and she climbed over him.
“I am an ill man, treat me with care,” he breathed into her neck as she lifted her skirts and he helped her pull them over her head. Her breasts fell into his willing hands and he groaned out his pleasure as the weight of them filled his palms. “My wife, my lover. Anne, I love you,” he whispered as his mouth closed over a tight, rosy nipple.
She loosened the cord at his waist and eased his robe from his shoulders. She straddled his hips and slid down over his throbbing shaft. They both stilled at the sensations and emotions that filled them and Giles released her breast with a gentle ‘plop’. He stared up at the beautiful woman who rose above him and then slid back down his aching member. He thrust his hips upwards to meet her and her eyelids fluttered closed as she pulled in a breath and a long moan left her lips.
“You know that the horses haven’t left their boxes in several days. They will need exercising all afternoon.” She admonished him as he attempted to increase her pace.
He shook his head against the pillows, held onto her hips and thrust upwards again.
“I don’t care. I want you to come with me and there is no way that I can hold this back. I don’t even want to consider trying. I need this, I need you. Come with me, Anne. Ride me as though your life depended upon it and I will ride with you.”
She needed no more encouragement. She opened her eyes, gazed down at the father of her child, the man she loved, as she threaded her fingers through his hair, and began to move her hips in rhythm with his.
Epilogue
Edward stared about the deck. His arrival had not caused a single flicker of recognition in anyone’s eyes. He walked up to a large man w
ho appeared to be giving orders to the others on the deck. Pushing in front of a thin fellow wearing nothing but a pair of dishevelled trousers and an overload of metal in his ears, he looked down at the man seated on a barrel.
“Lord Edward Ellesworth. Would you please conduct me to my cabin?” He tapped his cane against his polished boot.
The big man cocked his head and spat a stream of chewed tobacco onto the deck just in front of Edward’s shiny boot.
“Oh ho! So ye be thinking that ye deserve a cabin do ye? Well, let’s be having ye then. I will conduct you to your sleeping quarters meself seeing as ye be such a fine upstanding young gent.” He heaved himself up from the barrel and towered over Edward.
Edward sucked in his bottom lip thoughtfully. There was clearly something wrong with this situation. The man’s sarcasm had not escaped him, but given the man’s stature he decided to keep his mouth shut and follow where the seaman led.
The steps down into the hold did not look promising and neither did the smell that assaulted his senses as they descended into the dark. He hesitated for a moment and held the seaman’s gaze as he turned towards him.
“If you have anything of value, give it to me an’ I’ll see that Captain Jacobs holds it for ye until we reach port. Other than that, find yourself a hammock and then come back up on deck. I’ll pair ye up with a more experienced man as soon as we set sail.”
Edward narrowed his eyes. Was this some kind of joke? He looked back at the man staring steadily at him.
“There’s no mistake here? I do not have my own cabin?” He asked somewhat hopefully.
The big man shook his head slowly.
“Sorry, old chum, but we know who ye are. Ye and yorn father are dead broke an’ ye are a murderer. Fraid there ain’t no cabin for the likes of ye. Be thankful that I offer to take yorn valuables to the Captain. There’s many a man on here who wouldn’t be above relieving ye of them by more unreasonable means.”
A Murderous Masquerade (Unrivalled Regency Book 2) Page 23