The Lightkeeper's Ball

by Colleen Coble

  Though aware he was trespassing, he jogged around the side of the mansion to the backyard. The gardens were extensive. Shrubs and trees blocked his vision as he stared. “Lady Devonworth?” His voice seemed loud in the dark. “Are you back here?”

  Nealy barked, a ferocious sound. The dog raced off into the night.

  He heard a man yell, “Let go of me!”

  Harrison raced toward the sound. A dark figure bowled him over, then darted away, leaving a whiff of chloroform in his wake. Harrison jumped back to his feet. His inclination was to give chase, but what if Lady Devonworth was hurt? His chest tightened.

  He turned back toward the sea and rushed on. “Lady Devonworth!” he yelled. The scent of chloroform increased his anxiety.

  He followed Nealy’s barking and found the dog at the edge of the cliff. The dog peered over the edge and howled. Harrison stared down into the water. The whitecaps caught the gleam of moonlight as they rolled to the rocks. He scoured the water, praying not to see a person in that treacherous riptide.

  Nealy continued to whine even though Harrison commanded him to be quiet several times. His eyes narrowed. Was that an arm thrown above the waves? He dropped to one knee and leaned over the edge. His gut clenched when it came again. A person struggled in the rough seas below.

  “Essie!”

  Leaping to his feet, he kicked off his boots and tore the coat from his back, then dived over the cliff. He attempted to miss the rocks by timing his headlong entrance into the water to match the breaking waves. The wind rushed by his face and nearly took his breath away as he plummeted toward the salty spray. Seconds later the cold water closed over his head. His knee struck a rock, and pain encased his leg.

  He kicked out with his good leg. His face broke the surface of the water and he drew a breath into his burning lungs. “Essie!” He jerked around wildly for any sight of her. Striking off in the direction where he’d last seen her, he swam several feet, then treaded water while he searched the waves for her.

  Had he been mistaken? Maybe he had seen a piece of flotsam. The undertow pulled at him, trying to drag him out to sea. He let it carry him awhile, praying it would take him to her. The current turned and rolled him parallel to the coast.

  “Where are you?” he screamed over the sound of the waves. If she’d been drugged, how could she fight the heavy surf? A splash sounded beside him, and he saw his dog swimming with determination to his right. A surge lifted Harrison high. As he crested the top and began to fall into the trough, he spotted a white face in the water. “Dear God, help me.”

  He began to swim toward her, but Nealy reached her first. The dog seized the collar on her dress in his teeth and began to paddle toward the shore. Harrison kicked closer to them, then dived to prevent a wave from washing him past her. Reaching out, he managed to grab hold of something. As his head broke the surface, he realized he had hold of her hair. With his other hand he grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her closer. Her eyes were closed and he couldn’t tell if she was breathing.

  “Good dog, Nealy,” he crooned. “I’ve got her now.”

  The dog released her and swam alongside Harrison. Harrison pulled her close but still couldn’t tell if she lived. He had to get her to land. The undertow took a tighter hold and tried to take him under, but he kicked out and managed to break its grip. Swimming at an angle to the shore, he fought the waves to keep her head out of the water. Inch by inch he drew closer to the rocks. At first he saw no place for a suitable landing. His strength was fading fast. His clothes dragged him down. His kicks were taking more and more energy, especially with his knee screaming with pain.

  His head went under and he came up sputtering. Somehow he managed to keep her nose out of the water. He willed her chest to move, for him to see some sign of life. Another wave lifted them and carried them toward the rocks. Just as he thought they were both about to be crushed against the teeth of the shore, he heard Nealy barking. The dog had reached a flat spot and pulled himself onto a smooth stone. Harrison thought they might be able to land. He struck out for it. The surge ended just shy of the cliffs, and his feet touched the bottom.

  Half carrying and half dragging her, he staggered ashore and collapsed onto the sand. Panting, he rolled her onto her stomach across his legs and pushed on her back. Seawater came from her mouth. He pushed again, but she lay inert. He laid her face up on the rocks and patted her cheek.

  “Get help, Nealy,” he told the panting collie. The dog barked and ran away.

  Harrison touched her again. “Don’t die,” he whispered. “I love you.”

  She was cold, so cold. Olivia coughed at the burning in her lungs and tasted salt and kelp. She gradually became aware of hard rock under her cheek and the warmth of a hand on her back.

  “Esmeralda, you’re alive.”

  Even half-drowned, she recognized the relief in Harrison’s voice as he called her that ridiculous name. What was he doing here?

  I love you.

  The words in Harrison’s voice reverberated in her head. What a strange dream she was having. She coughed and the harsh sound brought her fully to her senses. This was no dream. The Pacific roared off to her right, and its foam struck her in the face when she struggled to sit up. The black rocks cut into her palms, and salt stung her cut lips.

  She coughed again. “What happened?”

  Harrison supported her back. “Easy now. How much do you remember?”

  She tensed. “A man. He put a cloth over my nose and it choked me. I think he threw me over the cliff.”

  He pulled her closer against his chest when she shivered. “He nearly knocked me down running away.”

  She managed to get her eyes to focus. “You’re wet too. You saved me?”

  “Nealy helped. God made sure we were in the right place at the right time.”

  He brushed his lips over her forehead, and she turned her face into his wet shirt. His arms held her close. The moment seared her with its intimacy. And those words continued to reverberate in her heart.

  I love you.

  Why did she hear them in her head? Her teeth began to chatter. “I’m so cold,” she muttered.

  “I’ve got to get you to the house and fetch the doctor.”

  He helped her up and turned her toward the black cliffs that glistened with moisture in the moonlight. There appeared to be no clear path to the top. She had little strength to climb, and her ankle throbbed. They walked a few feet, and she realized he was limping as well.

  She paused and looked up at him. “Are you injured?”

  “Just a bruised knee.” His face was tipped up as he studied the formidable barrier in front of them. “I think there’s a path around the point, but it’s a little distance. Can you make it?”

  “I don’t have a choice.”

  They set off on the rocks slippery with kelp and seaweed. Her breath came hard through her burning chest. She realized she’d nearly drowned in the same manner as Eleanor. “I-I have to rest,” she gasped. She sank onto a boulder.

  He sat beside her, and his breathing was as labored as hers. “I’d go on to get help, but I’m not sure it’s safe to leave you. Do you know who tried to kill you?”

  She remembered the hard hands, the overpowering odor of the chemical-laden cloth. “I don’t know. It was too dark to see.” Staring up the rock face, she shuddered. “I think this is how Eleanor died. Was she found here?”

  “Yes.”

  She shivered and clasped her arms around her. “I would have drowned if you hadn’t saved me.”

  When her hand touched his, he grasped it and raised it to his lips. “I’m thankful God brought me out for a walk.”

  She remembered her panicked flailing when she struck the water. The way she’d prayed for God to save her. Had he seen her struggles in the water? Had he really provided a hero for her tonight, or had it all been coincidence? In the cold blackness of the sea, she’d felt alone and abandoned. Addie said God saw everything. Maybe she was right.

 
“Are you ready to try again?” he asked when she shivered once more.

  “Yes.” She hoisted herself up and clung to his arm along the slippery rocks. The wet nightdress hampered her every move and was heavy enough to slow her progress.

  I love you.

  Was that God talking to her? The voice had sounded like Harrison to her. Or maybe it was all a dream. Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she wished she had the courage to ask him.

  “You’re looking at me in a most odd way,” he said. “Is there something wrong?”

  “D-Did you speak to me before I awakened?” He glanced away, and she wished she hadn’t said anything.

  “I feared you were dead.”

  He wasn’t going to tell her what he’d said. Were words of love on his tongue only her wishful thinking?

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  HAD SHE HEARD him? Harrison’s lungs burned as he labored up the slope with his arm around Lady Devonworth’s waist. Her ankle was still swollen, but she moved along better than he’d imagined she could. There was something in her manner that made him think she’d heard his declaration. He tried to tell himself he hadn’t meant it—that only the extreme stress of the moment had prompted those words.

  The truth was that she had entangled herself in his heart in a mysterious way. But then he’d never been in love before, so it was all new and amazing. He thanked God that she was alive. But the attacker was bold. He’d come right into her own yard and taken her from the presence of several people.

  They crested the hill and limped toward the house. Lights glared from the windows, and servants ran to and fro in the yard. Nealy was barking frantically as if to try to get someone to listen to him. An older woman stood on the back stoop wringing her hands and weeping. She glanced up and squinted in the dark toward Harrison. Lady Devonworth was sagging with fatigue, so he swept her into his arms and started toward the manor. His knee felt like a spike was rammed into it, but he ignored the pain.

  The woman started down the steps toward them. “Is she alive?”

  “She’s fine,” he called. Nealy ran to greet them, his tired tail wagging.

  “She’s soaking wet. What happened?” She narrowed a glare at Harrison as if this were all his fault.

  “He saved me,” Essie murmured, reaching toward her. “I nearly drowned.” Her hand drifted down to the dog. “Nealy too. Good dog.” Nealy wiggled all over with pleasure as her hand grazed his ears.

  “And what were you doing out in the middle of the night?”

  “She’ll explain later,” he said. “She needs dry clothes. And a doctor.” He brushed past the agitated older woman and onto the stoop. “Someone get the door and call the constable.”

  The butler sprang to yank open the door. “Stay, Nealy,” Harrison told the dog on the porch. Goldia met him in the kitchen. “Show me to her room,” he told her.

  She opened the door to the hall. “This way.”

  The back stairs took them to the second floor. Her bedroom was four doors down. Goldia flung back the covers, and he deposited Lady Devonworth on the bed.

  “Get her dry and warm,” he said. “I’ll get the doctor.”

  He backed out of the room and rushed down the staircase. He met the older lady in the hall. The woman probably wouldn’t stoop so low as to use the servants’ stairs. The icy glare she sent his way pained him as much as his knee.

  “Have you phoned for the doctor?” he asked.

  “He’s on his way. And who are you?”

  “I’m Harrison Bennett. Who are you?”

  “Harrison.” Her smile was weak. “I didn’t recognize you, dear boy.” She drew herself up. “I’m Mrs. Stewart, owner of this house. I should like to know what you were doing w-with Lady Devonworth in the middle of the night.”

  Eleanor’s mother. He studied her cold expression. No wonder she’d raised a daughter who had little use for faithfulness.

  “Saving her from a murderer,” he said. When she gasped and put her hand to her mouth, he wished he hadn’t been so blunt. “Someone chloroformed her and threw her over the cliff.”

  “Oh, that dear girl,” Mrs. Stewart said, tears springing to her eyes. “Is she going to be all right?”

  “I think so. She’s cold and fatigued, but she was coherent and able to hobble up the hill.” Or at least partway up.

  Her smile faded and she looked him over. “How did you happen by, Mr. Bennett?”

  “I was out for a walk. I heard her call my name. I ran to the backyard, and the man nearly trampled me as he rushed away. I got to the cliff and saw her in the water. If you look at the back of the lot, you’ll see my boots and jacket.”

  “Indeed, the servants discovered your garments,” she said. “A thank-you is in order.”

  “It was only by God’s grace that I was able to get us both to shore. Your daughter wasn’t the first person to die on those rocks.”

  She blanched and fell silent. His words were brutal, but he needed to be blunt to make her realize the gravity of the situation.

  The doorbell rang, and the butler rushed to usher in the doctor. In the hubbub of the moment, he slipped out to the portico. Lady Devonworth wasn’t going to want to see him again tonight.

  Harrison paused long enough to let Mrs. Lindrum know he would be in the carriage house until lunch. His knee still ached but he ignored it as he set out across the backyard to the building that housed his aeroplane. Nealy was on his heels. A voice hailed him and he turned to see Constable Brown waving to him. He paused under a live oak tree outside the carriage house.

  “Saw you as I rounded the corner,” Brown said. “I wanted to get your version of last night’s events.” He patted the dog’s ears.

  The man’s brown eyes were friendly enough, but Harrison thought he saw a glint of suspicion. “I was in the right place at the right time.” He explained what he’d heard and done.

  Brown jotted in his notebook. “Can you describe this man who knocked you down?”

  “It was too dark to see him. I smelled chloroform.”

  “Lady Devonworth said he drugged her. She thinks she scratched him.”

  “She didn’t mention the scratches to me. That’s surely a clue to look for. Did she say where the scratches were?”

  “His arms. Which may not help us much unless the man rolls up his sleeves.” Brown raised a graying brow. “Might I see your arms, Harrison?”

  Harrison stared at him, then took off his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves to reveal unmarked skin. “Satisfied?”

  “I had to check. Can you explain why you were there?”

  He studied Brown’s expression. The lawman had always been fair. “Do you remember when you first realized you loved your wife, Constable?”

  The man grinned and took out a cigar. “Quite well, Harrison. I think I’m beginning to understand.”

  “I went for a walk with no intention of going past the manor. It was most fortuitous that I did, but there is no good explanation for it other than that I subconsciously hoped to catch a glimpse of Lady Devonworth.”

  “So the rumors of an impending announcement are true?”

  “Yes,” Harrison said. There was no reason to mention that his only ammunition was that the engagement would save her reputation.

  “Miss Eleanor drowned in circumstances very similar to what Lady Devonworth faced last night. Only she was not so fortunate.”

  Harrison clenched his fists. “As I told you after the plane crash, I fear her death was no suicide. And someone fired on the lady and me in the clearing after the accident. After last night, Lady Devonworth’s fears that she was the intended target don’t seem so far-fetched.”

  “I shall continue to discuss this matter with Lady Devonworth.”

  He knew he should tell Brown about Eleanor’s affair with Fosberg, but it felt very unsportsmanlike. Still, the man could help them find Eleanor’s killer. He needed to know. “I would suggest you speak to Fosberg. He and Eleanor were . . . close.”

 
“How close?”

  “I’ll leave him to tell you. Suffice it to say that I broke off our engagement.”

  “I will investigate the matter.” Brown turned back toward the house.

  “One moment, Constable.” Brown turned around to face him. Harrison gestured to the carriage house. “I’m working on a new aeroplane, but I’m reluctant to try it out until I find out about the sabotage on my other machine. Have you uncovered anything about that?”

  The constable shook his head. “A hole in a fuel line is too vague to trace. I questioned your neighbors and those who might have seen anything out at the airfield. I’ve turned up nothing.”

  It was as Harrison suspected. His new machine would have to stay under guard constantly. At least until his enemy revealed himself. And he would eventually. If Harrison had arrived at Stewart Hall a little earlier last night, the man would have been exposed and caught. He thanked the constable and headed out to his machine.

  When he reached the door, he dug out his key and started to fit it into the lock. It took a moment for him to realize the lock dangled open. Strange that Nealy hadn’t alerted him. Harrison clearly remembered locking the building two nights ago before going to bed. He nearly went to try to catch Brown, but if he left now, any intruder would escape. He pushed open the door and stepped into the space. Dust motes danced in a shaft of sunlight. The building was empty. His flying machine was gone.

  Not a muscle could move. He stood gawking at the empty space. A thousand thoughts fought for supremacy, but uppermost was how the thief had managed to snatch the machine out from under Harrison’s nose.

  Something shuffled behind him. With his fists at the ready, he whirled only to see his father step from the shadows. Harrison’s arms sagged to his side. “My flying machine. It’s gone.”

  His father nodded. “I disposed of it. It was taking up too much of your time. I had it taken away yesterday afternoon.”