by Sandra Heath
Martin went slowly up the stairs behind everyone. Where was Tansy? He remembered falling asleep with her in his arms, and guessed she had returned to her own room without disturbing him, but he wished she had awoken now and come out with everyone else. For a moment he almost went to knock at her door, but then thought better of it. She deserved her first good sleep since leaving Constantinople.
So he returned to his own room.
* * * *
Tansy regained consciousness slowly and painfully. She was in complete darkness, and the air was icily cold. Where was she? For a moment she could not think what had happened, but then realized she was lying on a stone floor with her wrists and ankles tied. She tried to twist her hands free, but to no avail. Her head was pounding, and she recalled seeing a strange gentleman stealing and destroying Uncle Julian’s letter; then someone had struck her from behind. Who was it? Who had done this to her?
There wasn’t a sound, except perhaps…. Yes, she could hear the wind playing around the eaves. At least, she presumed it was the eaves. Was anyone near? “Hello?” she called. Her voice echoed eerily. Hello? Hello? Hello? “Can anyone hear me?” Hear me? Hear me? Hear me? Fear began to steal over her. Was she just going to be left here like this to die?
Chapter 27
It was dawn when Martin awoke. As he lay there in the warm bed, thinking of Tansy, he was aware of how much stronger he felt now. He had improved in leaps and bounds ever since he held the bronze cat.
The gray light of early morning filled the room, and as he sat up he saw from the window that the sea was bleak and wintry. A fierce wind blew across the bay, and the leaden waves were flecked with white. The eastern sky was stained blood-red, promising worse weather to come. But the weather vanished from his thoughts as he suddenly realized he could see out. The curtains had been drawn when he’d returned to the room after the disturbance with Amanda, yet now they had been flung open. Another strange thing was that Tansy’s bronze cat stood in the middle of the sill. Who had been in the room? Tansy herself?
Pushing the bedding aside, he got up to go to the window. He was naked, and the fire had burned low in the hearth, so the cool air on his skin made him shiver slightly. But as he picked up the figurine he was again aware of the welcome warmth of the bronze passing through him—no, the welcome magic of the bronze passing through him.
There was a movement on the terrace below, and he drew self-consciously back as a cloaked woman hurried to the steps that led down to the open heath. Her hood was raised over her head, and the cloak flapped in the wind. There was something familiar about her. Who was she? A maid keeping an assignation with her sweetheart? Yes, who else could she be? He watched as she ran down the grassy clearings through the bracken, and as she eventually disappeared into the wooded combe, he replaced the figurine on the sill and turned to put on his dressing gown. He had a fancy for a morning cup of strong tea, which the navy had taught him to appreciate, and as he knew the servants would be up and about by now he decided to hie himself to the kitchens.
But as he emerged from his room, he heard Ozzy mewing and saw both cats by Tansy’s closed door. Cleo was scratching urgently at the paintwork, and Ozzy was stretching up to the doorknob, which resisted his best efforts. Why hadn’t Tansy admitted them? She loved cats far too much to exclude them, and surely she could not sleep on when they were making such a fuss at the door. The first finger of true unease began to trace down his spine. There had been no sign of Tansy last night when Amanda went down to the library, and now there was still no sign of her. Was she all right?
He hastened to the door and knocked loudly. “Tansy?” The cats waited expectantly, their ears pricked. There wasn’t a sound from within. “Tansy? Are you awake?” Still there was only silence. Cleo mewed, a plaintive sound that sent the uneasy finger in motion again. Ignoring the niceties of etiquette, Martin flung open the door. The cats rushed into the darkened room as he strode to the windows to fling back the curtains; then he looked at the bed. It was just as Letty had left it the night before, the bedclothes turned neatly back, Tansy’s nightgown and wrap lying in readiness. Ozzy and Cleo jumped onto the bed and paced restlessly, mewing all the while. They were trying to tell him what had happened.
Martin obviously could not understand what they were saying, but he realized instinctively that Tansy had been missing since before Amanda’s exploits during the night. But where was she? What had become of her? He ran an agitated hand through his hair, trying to clear his mind and marshal his thoughts, but then there came the sound of female voices out on the landing. One belonged to Hermione and was striving to be calm; the other belonged to Amanda’s maid, Daisy, and was tearful and upset.
“Just take a deep breath, Daisy,” Hermione was saying. “That’s better. Now then, tell me what is wrong.”
“It…. It’s Miss Amanda!” Daisy cried.
Martin hurried out, and Sir Julian’s door opened across the way. The older man’s head appeared, the tassel of his nightcap falling over his nose. “What in the devil is going on out here?” he demanded.
Hermione continued to speak to the maid. “Do go on dear. What about Miss Amanda?”
“She’s gone!” Daisy wailed, dissolving into more tears.
“Gone? What do you mean, dear?”
“Gone! Run away! Eloped!”
Hermione went pale. “Daisy, if this is some sort of jest….”
“It’s the truth, madam! I wouldn’t lie about it. She told me last night, but I didn’t believe it. Then, when I took her morning tea just now, she’d gone. Her small valise has gone too. Oh, please don’t dismiss me, for it isn’t my fault. I truly believed she was teasing me!”
Sir Julian came hastily around the landing. “Did I hear you say eloped?”
“Yes, Sir Julian.” Daisy managed to bob a curtsy.
“But she hasn’t had time to even meet the scoundrel!”
Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Clearly she has, sir. Clearly she has.”
Martin struggled to absorb this new development. The cloaked woman! “I don’t think she has been gone more than a few minutes, sir. I saw a woman in a cloak crossing the terrace, then going down the hill to the woods. There seemed something familiar about her, and I thought she must be one of the maids here, but now that I think again, I realize it was Amanda. I saw her wear that cloak on the Lucina.”
“Down toward the woods, you say? There’s a lane down there that leads from the turnpike road!” Sir Julian cried. “I’ll have Sanderby’s gizzard for this! So help me I will! I’ll send some men down there immediately, although I imagine they are well away by now.” He strode to the staircase to shout for a footman, but Martin’s next words halted him.
“Sir Julian, I think you should know that Tansy is missing too.”
* * * *
Liza was on the morning stagecoach from Weymouth to Wareham, crammed uncomfortably between a fat, red-cloaked countrywoman with a screaming baby and an equally large farmer who smelled like a cow byre. She craned her neck for the signpost to Chelworth, and it was with some relief that she saw it at last. She stretched across the farmer to lower the window glass and shout to the coachman to stop.
He reined in, and she climbed swiftly down into the cold wind. The dry leaves of an ash tree rustled and shook overhead as she stepped back for the stagecoach to drive on. On a hill about half a mile to the south, seeming almost to pierce the low clouds, was the pyramid she knew belonged to Chelworth. She glanced up at the racing clouds and wondered if perhaps her thirst for revenge upon Lord High-and-Mighty was quite worth all this. But then she remembered that the alternative was to leave him enjoying the title and inheritance, to which he had no right, and her resolve hardened. Holding her cloak around her to keep out as much cold as she could, she set off down the lane as it wound downhill toward the sea.
Soon she came to a narrow path on the right. It led to the pyramid and was little more than a fox or badger track that wound through the windswept gorse and dead bracke
n. Just then she heard a carriage approaching at breakneck speed. There was something about the sound that made her fear to stay in sight; so she dashed a little way along the path and hid behind a clump of yellow-flowering gorse. She was immediately glad she had, for as the carriage came into view around the corner, she saw it was Randal’s.
Keeping her head down, she watched the vehicle rattle closer. The blinds were down, which made her curious, but as it passed, the blind snapped up and she saw the two occupants. Furthest away was Lord High-and-Mighty himself, but the nearest person was a young lady with golden hair and the loveliest—if sulkiest—profile Liza had ever seen. Liza didn’t doubt that the young lady was Miss Amanda Richardson, for she exactly fitted the description Randal had delighted in boasting of.
The carriage swept on by, and soon its racket was lost in the gusting of the wind. Liza crept out of hiding and returned to the lane. Now why would his lordship be driving like the very devil with his bride beside him? An elopement seemed the most obvious answer.
Liza pulled a face after the now vanished carriage. “You’ll regret it, Miss Richardson,” she murmured. “The fine fellow you’re running off with is only an earl’s by-blow, and that won’t get you into Almack’s!”
* * * *
Tansy lay in the relentless darkness. She had hoped there would be a window so the coming of daylight would reveal her surroundings, but nothing had changed. Once or twice she thought she heard seagulls screaming outside, but she wasn’t sure. She had no idea how far away from Chelworth she had been brought, or how long she had been lying here abandoned. All she could be really certain of was the endless moaning of the wind.
Chapter 28
The men Sir Julian dispatched to the combe had soon returned with word that the birds had definitely been there, but had now flown. Marks left by a carriage were clear in the muddy lane, but all that had been found was a lady’s scarf made of cat fur. It clearly did not belong to Amanda, who would not have countenanced such an item, but the real owner was a mystery. For the time being it was left on a small console table in the atrium, where it was given a very wide berth indeed by Ozzy and Cleo, whose coats stood on end each time they passed.
The next resort for Sir Julian was to send more riders across country to Bothenbury, in the faint hope that Randal had taken his bride there, but of course there was no one in residence. It was ascertained that Lord Sanderby’s belongings were still at the house, but his person was definitely not. Nor was that of the redheaded female with whom he had been consorting, according to his disapproving cook, who did not hold with such loose conduct.
Sir Julian blamed himself for what had happened, believing he had failed in his responsibilities toward both his nieces. But Amanda’s disappearance was nevertheless not reported to the authorities. It was clear she had not been abducted; therefore to make a noise about her flight could only have a most detrimental effect upon her character. So he decided that this was a time to let sleeping dogs lie, in the hope that all would be well in the end. Although how anything could be “well” when Randal Fenworth was involved, he could not really imagine.
Tansy’s disappearance was another matter, however, and was most certainly reported to every quarter that Sir Julian could think of. She could not possibly have gone of her own volition, nor had she accompanied Amanda, so what had become of her could only be conjectured. The possibilities were legion—and alarming.
No one was more distraught about Tansy than Martin, who did not remain idle. In the vain hope that she might be with Amanda after all, he accompanied the men to Bothenbury, managing the rigorous ride because he took the cat figurine with him, tucked inside the coat of his naval uniform. The fierce wind howled across the Dorset hills, and occasionally there was stinging rain in the air, but nothing seemed to touch him because of the figurine’s comforting, invigorating warmth. However, nothing could protect him from the chill that engulfed his heart now that Tansy was missing. He had known he loved her before; now he knew how far and how deep that love ran. She meant the whole world to him, and no stone would be left unturned until he found her.
It was as he and Sir Julian’s men were riding back from Bothenbury, along the ridge above Chelworth, that something made Martin rein in a few hundred yards from the pyramid. The others continued over the breast of the slope and down toward the house, but he remained behind. The wind blustered across the heights, and seagulls wheeled and screamed excitedly overhead. Far out to sea, a shaft of sunlight briefly pierced the racing clouds and flashed brightly on the otherwise dismal gray of the water. He could see the waves thundering ashore in the bay, where only yesterday the stillness of the fog had made the surface as smooth as a millpond. It was hard to believe the Lucina had been so becalmed down there—or, indeed, that it had only been yesterday.
Where was Tansy? Was she all right? How he wished he knew the answers. If any harm had befallen her at someone’s hands, he would not rest until— The thoughts broke off as a small sound caught his attention. He turned in the saddle, glancing around the swaying gorse and bracken, but there seemed nothing there. Then he saw Ozzy and Cleo bounding toward him and knew he had heard their excited mewing. The cats halted a few yards in front of him, then trotted back the way they had come. When he made no move to follow, they paused and looked around reproachfully. Their mewing became more imperative, and at last he realized they were trying to lead him somewhere. He moved the horse after them, and they dashed ahead, taking him swiftly toward the pyramid.
They led him to the entrance and began meowing loudly. As he dismounted he was sure he heard a woman’s muffled voice. “Help me! Oh, please help me!”
“Tansy?” he cried, and ran down the steps to try the door. The lock had recently been broken, for the wood was freshly splintered, so the door opened easily. Daylight shone upon the room beyond, where for a moment—just a fleeting moment—he thought he saw the painting from Tel el-Osorkon on the wall opposite the entrance. But the impression was so fleeting as to have been imagined, for the wall was bare.
Tansy lay on the stone floor, bound with ropes and her tearstained face pale as she stared fearfully at his silhouette against the daylight. Then she realized who he was and began to weep. He hurried to her, and the purring cats rubbed around them both as he cut her free with the small knife he carried in his pocket. Then he removed his coat to wrap around her and gathered her into his arms. “Oh, Tansy, my darling….”
“How did…did you find me?” she sobbed.
“Ozzy and Cleo led me to you.”
“They did?” She blinked her tears away as she stroked the two delighted animals. “Where am I, Martin? Where is this horrid place?”
“The pyramid on the hill above Chelworth.”
“So near? I…I thought I must be miles away.” She glanced around, able to see for the first time because of the open door. Her attention caught upon the wall, and her lips parted. “Oh, I….”
“Yes?”
“I thought I saw….” She couldn’t finish the sentence, for it seemed she was seeing things all the time!
“You thought you saw the painting from Tel el-Osorkon?” Martin finished for her.
“Yes. How did you know?”
He smiled a little. “Perhaps because I thought I saw it too. Just for a split second.”
“Yes, that’s how I saw it too.” She snuggled into his coat, which was warm from his body. It smelled of him too, a fresh, slightly spiced smell, maybe from the sandalwood-lined sea chest in which it was sometimes kept onboard ship. “Oh, Martin, I was so terrified lying in here all alone.”
“I know, my darling. I know,” he said softly, his lips against her forehead.
“How long have I been here? I have no idea of time….”
“Well, it must have happened sometime last night. It’s midmorning now.”
“So, it’s not all that long. I feel as if I’ve been here for days. I was afraid I would be here forever,” she added, then winced as pain jabbed her head again
. She probed her hair with careful fingertips and gasped as she felt the lump resulting from the blow.
“What’s wrong?” he asked swiftly.
“I…I was hit from behind.”
“Who was it?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, fresh tears welling to her eyes. “I left your room to go back to my own, and I heard something downstairs. I looked over into the atrium and saw one of the footmen, James, I think he’s called, going to the library. A man I didn’t know was with him. I followed them, and….”
“Oh, Tansy, why didn’t you awaken me? Or just raise the alarm?”
“I don’t know,” she confessed, only too aware now of how very foolish she had been. “Anyway, I watched from the library door as the strange man—a gentleman by his clothes—opened the secret compartment in the statue of Isis. He destroyed Uncle Julian’s letter. That’s all I remember. There was a sharp pain at the back of my head, and everything went black. The next thing I recall was waking up here. I didn’t know how long I had been here, or even if it was night or day. Everything is completely black when the door is closed. All I could hear was the wind, and sometimes the seagulls.” She tried to rub the feeling back into her arms and legs, which were sore and stiff from being bound for hours.
Martin tried to help her, massaging her ankles as gently but firmly as he could. Then he thought of the bronze cat, and quickly took it from the pocket of his coat. “Here, hold this. It will help you more than anything else.”
She took it, and immediately she felt its heat stream into her hand. It flooded up her arm and into her body, swiftly reaching everywhere, and the feeling of well-being that accompanied it was quite extraordinary. She gave an incredulous laugh. “Why, it’s amazing!”
“I know. I believe that if one is unwell, or injured in some way, it acts as a restorative. Don’t ask me why or how. Just accept that it is so.”