Daughter of Darkness

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Daughter of Darkness Page 25

by Janet Woods


  The color ebbed from Jeffrey’s face, leaving it ashen. ‘Thank God I didn’t let the marquis’s servant take him.’

  ‘He’s here?’ Her heart began to thump alarmingly. ‘My father sent an envoy for Edward?’

  ‘The servant arrived yesterday at dusk. He showed me a letter from the marquis claiming guardianship. It demanded he be released into the servant’s care.

  ‘And you refused?’ Despite his exhaustion, Gerard grinned with new vigor.

  ‘Of course.’ Jeffrey’s voice had a new maturity to it. ‘Edward is ill, a recurrence of the quinsy. Dr Tansy said he may not be moved until the fever subsides.’ Gerard’s smile was ignored by his brother. ‘A lot is going on of which you’re unaware,’ he said.

  ‘Then perhaps you’d care to enlighten me.’

  Jeffrey’s voice softened when he looked at Willow. ‘If you do not take her home to rest, I’ll do it for you, brother.’

  ‘We’ll talk on your return,’ Gerard said, exchanging a glance with James. ‘Keep vigilant if the marquis is abroad in these parts. He’s not fussy over which of the Lytton family he kills.’

  ‘I most certainly will,’ Jeffrey said agreeably. ‘There’s a great deal I wish to say to you, and twenty men of his ilk will not be allowed to prevent me.’

  ‘And none of it good, I imagine,’ Gerard muttered with a sigh as they moved off.

  ‘Why is he so annoyed with you?’ Willow puzzled. ‘His rudeness is out of character.’ Anxiously, she gazed at him. ‘He must be ailing. Perhaps Edward’s quinsy is contagious. Please forgive him, Gerard?’

  ‘How can I do otherwise.’ He managed a weary grin. ‘Not only is he my brother, his emotions towards you are complicated by his youth. He’ll think better of his outburst before long, and apologize.’

  ‘I was hoping you’d overlooked his continuing regard for me. Though I’ve seen little of him these days, I’ve tried to treat him only with sisterly affection.’

  ‘I know.’ His smile warmed her heart. ‘First love is painful, especially when that love is not reciprocated. You’ll occupy a special niche in his heart for the rest of his life.’

  And she thought: What of your heart, husband? Will I ever occupy a special niche there? Willow remembered Caroline’s unrequited love for Ambrose. She understood now why her predecessor had risked everything to plot her rival’s downfall. She would do exactly the same to win the regard of Gerard, whom she’d come to love with all her heart.

  Gerard should have guessed the marquis wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. Edward’s nurse was discovered two hours later by the footman sent to the nursery to find out why breakfast hadn’t been collected. The nurse and nursery maid were bound and gagged, and were almost hysterical when released. Gerard had to speak sharply to get any sense out of them, and he blessed Willow for keeping calm. It was good to have someone by his side who didn’t panic in a crisis. Needless to say, Edward’s bed was empty.

  He left the nursery staff to their weeping and called the family together. After informing them of the situation regarding Edward, he sent a messenger to Dorchester to call in the regiment. He was disturbed to learn from his father of another death involving a raven, the priest who’d officiated at Kitty and Brian’s wedding. He considered it prudent to inform the family of the similar deaths, and warn them to be on guard.

  He didn’t consider it necessary to tell Sapphire she’d been named by the Wesley preacher. It would serve no good. But he recalled Willow’s link with the occult through her mother, and shivered.

  Later, when he intended to talk to his father alone, he found Sapphire in attendance. Usually, she’d rise and leave with no more than a greeting when he came in. On this occasion, she turned to him and said quietly. ‘You’re worried about the raven. Rest assured, Willow is not the cause of its manifestation.’

  It struck him then, that her voice, though French accented, had the same lilting timbre as Willow’s. ‘How did you know of my suspicions?’

  ‘I picked up your thoughts.’

  It was the first time she’d addressed him directly. His senses were assaulted with a strange quiver of familiarity. She brought Willow into his mind, and he had a strong urge to look upon her face.

  ‘A coincidence,’ he said lightly.

  Sapphire exchanged a glance with his father that left him feeling excluded. They had the familiarity of lovers, and it shocked him.

  ‘You doubt me?’ She laid a small hand lightly on his sleeve. ‘You were thinking you’d like to see my face. I remind you of Willow, do I not?’

  ‘You remind me very much of her.’ The smile he’d been about to give, faded as his gaze absently took in her form. The woman was petite, and neatly made like Willow. She even walked like Willow. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Who are you?’

  She drew the veil back from her face. ‘Look upon my countenance and you’ll see the truth written on it.’

  The huge, violet eyes and small turned up nose left him in no doubt. ‘Why do you hide your face from the world?’ he observed. Then he frowned, and in a voice suddenly harsh. ‘And why did you feign death and desert your baby daughter? She deserved better than to be left at the mercy of the marquis.’

  ‘I had no choice.’ Sapphire indicated a chair. ‘Spare me five minutes and I’ll tell you my story.’

  Sapphire spared him nothing, yet there was no self-pity in her voice. His father’s hand slid over her hand in support when she finished the shocking tale. Gerard frowned again. The intimacy between them appeared to be more than just friendship.

  He engaged his father’s eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Forgive me if I cross the bounds between father and son. There’s a question I wish to ask you, as one man to another.’

  ‘If you are going to ask if I love Marietta, the answer is yes,’ Ambrose said simply. ‘I’ve always loved her.’

  ‘Then why did you not— ?’

  ‘I was betrothed to your mother.’

  ‘And she wouldn’t release you?’

  ‘He didn’t have time to ask,’ Sapphire said dully. ‘I was compelled to wed the marquis, and thus began my misery. I’ve often railed against the forces of fate that kept us apart, but realize now that destiny shaped my fortune to ensure my daughter’s happiness.’

  An awful suspicion began to form in his mind. He stood up. He had no wish to accuse his late mother of such complicity, not even in his mind. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because Willow suspects I’m her mother.’ In an unguarded moment her love for her daughter showed as raw, naked pain upon the canvas of her face. ‘I would die having her ignorant, rather than reveal how unworthy I am to be called mother by her.’

  ‘You’ re dramatizing the importance of your status, and underestimating your daughter.’ He gazed at her through unfriendly eyes. ‘You seek to play upon my sympathy. I suspect your accident was one of convenience, and that fate and destiny had nothing to do with it. You deliberately sought your daughter out so you could play some small part in her life. That I can understand, but do me the justice of honesty, and that I’ll give you in return. I’ve never met a woman with so much courage and strength as Willow. If you chose to deny her this knowledge then you will be unworthy of her.’

  ‘Gerard!’ Ambrose warned, as storm clouds gathered in his son’s eyes. ‘Your remarks are insulting, and uncalled for.’

  ‘No, Ambrose. Your son partially right, and I deserved them.’ Rising to her feet, she kissed Gerard lightly on the cheek. ‘I sought only revenge when I came here. Willow was an unexpected bonus. Whether you believe it or not, destiny has given my daughter a husband to be proud of. For that, I’m thankful.’ Without another word she tripped lightly from the room, leaving him stunned. He gazed reflectively at his father, who now Sapphire had gone, appeared vulnerable and exhausted.

  ‘It doesn’t take much to realize what happened,’ his father said quietly. ‘Caroline was never the same after Marietta was reported dead. I’d thought the birth of her daughte
r would bring her joy, but it did not. She was already dead inside.’

  It was almost as if he was talking to himself.

  ‘Caroline became bitter after her daughter was born. I felt sorry for the poor little thing, but I did not think— ?’

  ‘Think what?’ Gerard asked when his father opened his eyes.

  Ambrose could not bring himself to soil the memory of Caroline to her son. What would it achieve to tell him? His former wife had probably been forced into it. He should have had the courage to call the marquis out, for his efforts at peacemaking had come to naught.

  ‘Oh, nothing of importance.’ He uttered a heavy sigh, realizing his cowardice had weighed heavily on his conscience all these years. ‘It’s too late to change the past. I could have been a better husband, perhaps.’

  His father’s unspoken words confirmed what Gerard had only suspected. His sister had been fathered by the marquis, and his father knew it.’

  ‘That may be true.’ Tears in his eyes, Gerard stooped to hug his father. ‘But you couldn’t have been a better father to your sons. No man could.’

  The images faded from the crystal, and despite her worry about Edward, Willow smiled. Taking up her drawing tablet she quickly sketched a series of scenes. Adding them to her previous sketch, she rolled them up and secured them with a violet ribbon. She handed the roll of drawings to Bella, instructing her to take them to Sapphire.

  Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Heart beating nervously, she bade her mother enter.

  Sapphire had discarded her plain black dress for one of soft grey. She was unveiled, her eyes unguarded as they gazed at her. Troubled and unsure, Willow knew they mirrored her own.

  ‘You have the ability to tune into my thoughts,’ Sapphire said slowly.

  It was the admission she’d sought. Her mother had suffered so much that she was afraid to allow herself to love, she was thinking. What if she’s too proud to allow me to love her?

  Pain suddenly rioted through her body. Not her own pain, she realized. It was her mother’s she experienced. Something dark haunted her depths. She was putting a protective force between them.

  Willow took a tentative step forward, nearly crying out with the agony of her mother’s soul. Sapphire was retreating behind the barrier she’d created between them. Tension quivered like menace waiting to strike, warning her to keep the distance between them intact. It was the power binding Sapphire to the old ways.

  So close, yet so far. Willow felt like crying. Don’t try and repel me, her heart cried out. Let me love you.

  You’ve chosen your path, Sapphire told herself. You must find the courage to see it through to the end.

  Willow reached out to her. ‘Take my hands,’ her daughter implored. ‘I’m of your flesh, and will help to make you whole.’

  Something in Sapphire seemed to snap and she drew her daughter into her arms. As each experienced the love of the other, tears ran unashamedly down their faces.

  ‘Oh, my dear,’ Sapphire said softly. ‘I’d sacrifice the rest of my life for just this one moment of joy.’

  It took only a moment to realize it was exactly what she had done.

  Sheronwood looked as deserted as the last time they’d been there. Although the soldiers searched the house from top to bottom it was of no avail. There was no sign of Edward, and the view from the upper windows revealed the cove was empty of shipping.

  The tide was in. Seawater surged through the entrance to the cove and smashed against the cliff face in clouds of white spray. Despairingly, Gerard concluded they were too late. Nevertheless, they prised the boards from the cellar door and descended into the depths of the house. The entrance to the tunnels was boarded up, as they’d been for several years. Dredging a memory from his childhood, he remembered a series of steps led steeply downwards.

  Earlier generations of the de Vere family had used Sheronwood for smuggling. There was a labyrinth of tunnels, most of which came to a dead end. Some joined one to another in case an escape route was needed. One ended behind a secret door in the ballroom paneling, another led to the cave on the beach. A branch tunnel terminated in a chamber with a small window-like aperture set just above high tide in the cliff-face. It had been a look out. When the tide was exceptionally high, most of the tunnel network flooded.

  Aided by the smugglers map on display in the library, he’d had explored them once. He’d been five, and had clung tightly to the hand of Daphne’s father, scared he’d lose contact and be left alone in the dark. Not long afterwards the tunnels had been blocked by a fall and the cellar entrance boarded up. He grinned as he looked around. He’d been allowed to make a copy of the map, and that exercise was still imprinted on his brain. When Jeffrey was growing up he’d impressed his brother with highly embellished tales of his adventures in the caves.

  A shout from Anthony chased the nostalgia from his eyes ‘The boards are on a pivot and move to one side.’

  Gerard was the first down the steps, followed closely by Anthony. They carried lanterns. The soldiers were quite content to keep watch. He briefly wondered how many bottles of Sheronwood wine would be opened in the barracks that night, then decided it would be worth it if he could get Edward back. ‘Be careful,’ he warned Anthony. ‘The tunnels are blocked, and there may have been more falls.’

  ‘If the tunnels are blocked, where’s the draught coming from?’

  ‘Listen!’ The officer ran into his back when he suddenly stopped and held up his hand. He could have sworn he’d heard a child sobbing above the roar of the waves.

  ‘I hear nothing but the sea.’ Anthony sounded nervous. ‘How far into the tunnels does the water intrude? It sounds extremely close, and high tide is yet an hour away.’

  ‘An hour? Are you sure?’ He turned and gaze at him doubtfully. ‘The tide was high when we came in.’

  ‘It will be exceptionally high today. We had a full moon a couple of nights ago and can expect a spring tide.’

  A roaring sound filled Gerard’ s ears, and it was not the sea. Suddenly, he knew where Edward was being held. The marquis was diabolical. Even as he wondered how a man could be so lacking in compassion as to leave a child to drown, Gerard was deciding to kill him. He’d follow his enemy to France, if need be.

  ‘Stay here,’ he said to Anthony. ‘I know where the child is. If I fail to return, tell my wife— ‘ A cry of fright clearly reached his ears, then another from a different source, as if one had infected another. It was joined by a third.

  ‘It sounds as though you’ll need me, friend.’ Anthony poked him in the back. ‘Lead on. I hope you’ve a nose for direction and speed. I have the feeling we’ll need it.’

  A sour odor of damp seaweed lingered in the tunnels. The flickering lanterns gave a glimpse of a line on the wall that denoted an ominously high tide at some time in the past. The wind that howled up the tunnel at the approach of each breaker was cold, and smelt of salt. It struck Gerard that he and Anthony would drown in the tunnels if he took a wrong turn. When they were forced to struggle through swirling, knee high water, he was tempted to turn back.

  Then he heard Edward call Willow’s name. There was such desperation in the child’s voice he knew he must not fail him. At the very least, he owed Daphne the life of her son. Spray from the sea was crashing through the aperture when they finally found the chamber. The children were huddled together in a corner, water sucking at their feet.

  ‘Jesus help us!’ Anthony exclaimed.

  ‘We’ve no time for praying, man.’ Gerard picked up the nearest child and swung her on to his shoulders. ‘Hold tight,’ he instructed. Edward’s eyes were fever bright, his body hot and shaking when he grabbed him up and cuddled him against his body. Edward gave a cry of recognition as he clung for safety against his chest. Warmth spread through Gerard when he gazed down at the child, but he had no time to analyse it. ‘I hope you can managed the other two,’ he muttered, wishing the child on his shoulders had not taken his order quite so literally when her
fingers wound tightly in his hair.

  They barely had time to clear the chamber when a wave crashed through the aperture and set it awash. Water pursued them halfway up the tunnel and swirled chest high before it receded with a menacing hiss. The children’s terrified screams were nerve-wracking. Gerard barked at them for silence.

  ‘That was close.’ The sangfroid in Anthony’s voice was at odds with his earlier nervousness, as if he’d put his courage to the test and come out intact. ‘I admit I’m not overly fond of confined spaces, so let’s make haste before your lantern extinguishes itself. I dropped mine in the scramble up the tunnel.’

  The soldiers looked astonished when their saturated figures emerged from the tunnel. ‘

  God’s truth!’ one of them exclaimed, scratching his head. ‘I thought we was looking for the young marquis. Where did all them brats come from?’

  After the children had been transported to Lytton House, fed on chicken broth and made tidy, they were interviewed by Anthony Dowling. A soldier was dispatched to seek out the woman hired as the children’s gaoler, who’d fled into the surrounding countryside when she’d heard them arrive.

  The two boys, aged about nine and ten, were brothers, and had lived for the past two years in a London whorehouse, till their mother had died. The girl said she’d been taken to a house in London by her father, who was a gravedigger. She was able to itemize recognizable features of the house, then more falteringly, and with Willow’s tearful encouragement, told of her father’s death before describing the man who’d abused her. Each one implicated Marquis Lynchcross. Edward had been lucky, he thought.

  ‘I’ll send a dispatch rider with my report to General Marriot at the break of dawn,’ Anthony said with satisfaction. ‘The activities of the marquis are now over. I’m at a loss of what to do with the children, though.’

  ‘If we adopted my plan to start a village orphanage… ?’ Willow’s voice trailed off when Gerard frowned at her. He’d already explained there was not the funds for the purpose at this time, but the fact that he’d given her the three hundred guinea purse for the purpose had heartened her. ‘It’s for you to decide, of course, Gerard.’ She smiled at Anthony, reducing him to a speechless wreck. ‘You’ll excuse me, Captain. I must go and see Edward. He’s still distressed.’ Her eyes sent Gerard an entreaty before the door closed behind her.

 

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