by Erin Grace
Lady Stanton. The vile woman would be out of his house and out of his life this very morning.
‘Mrs Peel. Kindly ask Mrs Godfrey to see our guests depart to Lord Petherbridge’s before breakfast. They are not to be here when I return.’ He picked up his coat. ‘Get two horses ready, MacCallister. We’re going to the village.’
The stableman gave him a worried look. ‘There’s something else, sir. Lester isn’t in the coach house and your carriage is gone.’
The clang of a saucepan hitting the floor echoed around them. Mrs Peel gasped. ‘Donald. You don’t think Lester would have…’
‘I’m sure they’re fine lass. Sir?’
He nodded and followed his stableman out into the bleak winter’s morning, his body burning with determination to find Lily and make sure she was safe.
As they reached the stable, he grabbed a saddle and blanket, not wanting to waste precious time by letting his man do it for him. He needed to find her.
‘When did you notice Lester and my carriage gone?’
‘It was early this morning, sir. At first, I thought perhaps he was on errand for you. But he’d usually ask me to harness the bays for him, rather than doing it himself. He was a lazy bastard like that.’
He adjusted the stirrup strap, pulled it taut, then reached up to the saddle head and mounted his horse with one fluid motion. ‘Do you have a pistol, MacCallister?’
‘Aye, sir. Two, in fact.’ The man retrieved the guns, powder and shot from a chest against the stable wall then handed one to him. ‘The outriders often take them when travelling to London, for the carriages protection.’
‘Good. Let’s move out.’ He glanced over and met the Scotsman’s eye. ‘And, if by chance Lester has done the unthinkable, you will leave him to me. Do you understand?’
MacCallister mounted his horse, picked up the reins and nodded sharply at him. ‘Aye, sir. I have nae quarrel with that.’
He nudged his horse and headed out into the falling snow. As the sun tried to penetrate the heavy grey cloud he feared his heart would burst with worry over Lily. Never had he suffered such all-consuming fear. She must be all right. She had to be. He couldn’t bear to live on without her.
What an idiot he’d been. This time when he got her in his arms, it would take the Devil himself to take her away again. He loved her.
And, he would make her his wife.
Lily stared out the dirty window into the misty grey sky and tried not to yawn. It had to be early morning. Just how long had she been trapped in this wretch place?
When Lester had driven through the village without stopping at the vicarage she knew they were in trouble.
She’d tried to get Henrietta to listen to her concerns, but the stubborn woman panicked and became near hysterical. When the carriage finally halted, they were greeted by Mr Dunford at a small farmhouse. Henrietta immediately began to demand we be taken back until Lester struck her on the back of the head, knocking her to the ground.
Never had she been so terrified, as a trickle of dark blood stained the snow beneath her aunt’s head.
She tried to help her, but Dunford said to leave her to Lester and dragged her inside the house. She had no real way of telling the time, but that had to have been at least four hours ago. Dunford and Lester had barred the doors and windows making it impossible for her to leave.
Unconscious, Henrietta had been placed on an old pallet bed on the kitchen floor. Her mouth had been gagged and her hands bound the same as hers. And despite all the horrible things her aunt had done to her, she couldn’t bear to see the woman hurt and treated so poorly.
Exhausted, she walked the length of the room for what had to be the hundredth time and gazed into the dying embers of the hearth.
She’d tried to find out just why Lester and Dunford had taken them, but neither man said a word. At first, she’d thought it a ploy by Henrietta to force her marriage to Dunford by ruining her. But that clearly wasn’t the case.
Then Lady Stanton came to mind. But why would the wretched woman want her taken? Yes. The countess saw her as a threat, but Henrietta had obviously been the woman’s ally. Her head ached at the possibilities.
At the sound of metal sliding against metal, she gasped and moved so her back was against the wall then held her breath as the cottage door opened. What she wouldn’t give for her hands to be free and to be holding that fire poker. Her eyes narrowed, and a scowl formed on her lips at the figure coming through the open doorway.
The room was dimly lit by one oil lamp and a fire burned low in the hearth. A faint smell of animal dung wafted in the air. Not surprising, considering the person standing before her with an armful of cut logs. ‘I never considered you one for kidnap, Mr Dunford.’
The man shrugged off her accusation, wandered over to the hearth and stoked the fire. ‘I’ve told you many times to call me Gilbert. Are you warm enough?’ He leaned down, placed the wood on the floor then stood and brushed his hands together. ‘Now, my girl. What are you doing over there? Just sit down on that nice chair by the fire and all will be well. Don’t tell me you’ve been on your feet for hours? My, but you’re a stubborn little thing. I had the old settee put beside the hearth just for you. Wanted to make you comfortable, I did.’
She struggled with the rope binding her hands behind her back, but they were tight, biting into her skin. ‘Let us go, Mr Dunford. You know this isn’t right.’
He glanced at her, his expression unreadable. ‘I can’t. Not until Christmas Eve.’
She swallowed and looked at the window. ‘But it is already the morning of Christmas Eve. Can’t you let us go? My uncle will surely be wondering what became of us. Just return my aunt and I back to the vicarage and you have my word nothing will be said of the matter.’
Ignoring her plea, he sat down on an old wooden chair by the only table in the room. ‘Just a few more hours. I promise no harm, will come to you. After all, why would I want to hurt my future wife, eh?’
Frustrated, she kicked at the table leg and swore under her breath. ‘Then why are you doing this?’
At her outburst, he stood up, and she met his stony gaze. It had suddenly changed from warm to cold and distant. Trickles of fear ran along her spine and pooled within her stomach. What had she done?
‘I’m a patient man. Many say a good man. I can tolerate many things, but I don’t tolerate any woman betraying me.’
She swallowed and took a step back. ‘Betraying?’ Did he know about her night with Gabriel?
He flexed his fists and walked over to the sideboard where he grabbed a mug then sat it on the table. ‘Lottie was my first wife, you know. Such a pretty thing and full of life, she was. Couldn’t cook though. Not like you, eh?’
Her knees began to quiver. Lord. The man was insane.
‘What happened to her?’ She regretted the question the moment it left her lips, but something inside her just had to know.
He opened a dark brown jug and poured some strong-smelling liquid into the mug. ‘I returned home early from market one day and found her with the butcher from the village.’
Oh dear.
He gazed into the fire, raised the cup to his lips, took a sip then sighed as if remembering the past. ‘Then there was Margaret. She was an older woman, one I thought would have settled down in her ways, but she loved nothing more than to flirt with any man who came within earshot.’ The mug shattered within his grasp.
Her heartbeat pounded, and she couldn’t stop her body from shaking. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and wished Gabriel was there. ‘You…you killed them?’
He shot her a heated glare then suddenly he smiled as if they were merely discussing the weather. ‘Not me. Oh, but I wanted to. Just couldn’t bring myself to do it.’ He picked up another mug, poured some ale into it then swallowed it down. ‘Lester always did say I was too soft, too much of a coward.’
Breathing hard, her chest rose and fell as she struggled to comprehend what was happening.
Les
ter? Gabriel’s driver had killed the women? Why?
The creak of the back door made her spin around. The silhouette of a man stood there in the doorway, only the fine edge of a blade gleam in the soft light.
Dunford frowned. ‘What you doing in here, Lester? Thought you were going back to the manor before anyone noticed you were gone.’
‘I’d stopped by the inn and had myself a couple of drinks. Nothing to worry your head over.’ Lester stepped into view and she took a step back. ‘Just thought I’d happen by and make sure she wasn’t giving you any trouble.’
‘Now, she won’t want to do that. Will you, love?’
She shook her head, but could hardly breathe, terror stealing with air from her lungs. When she accepted the carriage to return to the vicarage she worried Lester may have tried to strike her but could never have imagined him to kidnap her.
Lester approached, reached out and tried to touch her face, but she flinched away. ‘Don’t worry, sweeting. Once we’re certain you are ruined, you can go home.’
Her brow furrowed, and she glared at the ruthless pair. ‘Ruined? I don’t understand. My aunt made me promise to marry you, Dunford. She would throw my family out into the snow if I didn’t. Why this madness?’
Dunford stood up and scratched his head. ‘That’s what you say, my girl. I’ve been trying to get you to marry me for some time now. Needed to help you make up your mind.’ He grinned, revealing his missing teeth. ‘But, you’ll see. It’s all for the best. And, as long as you’re a good girl, you’ll have nothing to worry about. Will she Lester?’
An evil smile snaked it way across his face as he twisted the tip of a long- bladed knife against his thumb. ‘Whatever you say, brother.’
She swallowed. ‘You are brothers?’
Dunford nodded as if pleased by her question. ‘Blood brothers, you might say. Grew up together in London. Best pick-pockets of the lot we were. Weren’t we, Lester?’
Lester didn’t take his leering gaze away from her. ‘That we were, brother. That we were. Only Gilbert here got lucky, or unlucky depending on how you look at it. Got nabbed by the peelers and taken to a workhouse. But one of the supervisor’s sisters took a shine to him and took him away to their farm in Speckles Wood.’
She tried to look interested, anything to keep to the subject off killing people. ‘And, how did you come to be here too?’
He gave her a shrewd look and tilted his head. ‘Me and a few of the lads had tried to rescue him from the workhouse, but when we saw him leaving, we decided to follow him, stowing away on the tails of town coaches. But by the time we got the edge of London most of the others decided they wanted to go back. Except for two of us.’
‘Two? Who was the other?’
A faint knock on the door made Dunford turn and answer it.
Lester grinned and put his knife away. ‘Here’s my sister now.’ As Lester pulled back the door, Polly walked in carrying a small basket. The heavenly scent of freshly baked bread filled the dismal room. Dunford took the basket and gave the girl a kiss on the cheek. ‘We’re all one happy family you might say.’
Polly removed a heavy cloak from her shoulder and gave her a chilling grin. ‘Good to see you, Miss. I take it Gilbert has treated you well. Not that you deserve it for all the trouble you’ve put me through.’
‘Polly? I don’t understand. What have I ever done to you?’
The girl stood beside Lester and leaned against him. ‘You know exactly what you did. I was in line to become maid to the next Lady Etford, but then you had to come along and ruin everything.’
Oh dear.
‘Polly. I didn’t even want the position. You must believe me.’
The girl glared at her, hatred burning in her eyes. ‘That makes what you did all the worse. Since leaving London I have spent my life scrubbing floors and stacking kindling in hearths for those who don’t even know I exist. But I promised myself. Polly, I said, you will be something better one day. You will be a fancy lady’s maid drinking tea and attending parties with her mistress.’
‘And, now we are getting married, Polly will become Lady Cecily’s maid as should have been. You see? Like I said. It’s all for the good.’ Dunford placed his hand upon her shoulder and she glanced over at it.
Heaven help her. He was missing a little finger. She once noticed Lester missing his as well. She looked over at Polly, but her hands were covered by gloves. ‘And, I suppose Lady Stanton put you all up to kidnapping me?’
Polly shrugged, reached into her cloak then produced a small knife. ‘No. But I did have the pleasure of keeping her informed of all your indiscretions. How else do you think she knew you were with the captain? I’d been sending her notes while she was at Lord Petherbridges. You see, she promised that once her daughter was wed to the captain, I would become Lady Cecily’s maid.’
Anger rippled through the layers of fear. ‘So, it was you who put all those stolen items in my room? Why didn’t you just talk to me? I would have left Etford Park if the position meant so much to you.’
‘Like hell you would have.’ She jumped as the girl shouted at her. ‘You wanted him. You wanted the captain and that meant staying at Etford. But I couldn’t let you, you see. You were ruining my one chance at happiness. And you had to go.’
She looked at the knife then Polly. ‘What are you going to do?’ Sensing Lester behind her she desperately sought a means of escape.
The girl slowly removed her left glove to reveal a missing little finger. ‘You see, Lily. And you don’t mind me calling you just Lily now, do you? After all, we will shortly be family. My brother’s and I never peach on each other and we expect the same kind of loyalty from you.’ The woman approached the table, knife in hand and nodded to the two men. ‘Hold her.’
Dear God. They were all mad.
She pushed past Polly and ran into the next room. In a haze of fear and panic she turned around and tried the door, but found it locked. Please. Please. Please open.
Lester stood in the doorway, his dreadful mocking laughter echoing all around her.
She must get away.
As she attempted to get past him, he grabbed her arm painfully and began dragging her back into the other room. ‘Let me go! Please, let me go!’
Fighting the pain, she struggled to pull away, as the sudden shatter of glass followed by an ear-splitting crack echoed around her. Mouth open, she gazed at Lester as his hold on her loosened, before he dropped to his knees, landing on the wooden floor with a deadly thud. She gasped, her body shaking at the sight of blood drenching the man’s pale blue livery.
What was happening?
Polly screeched and ran toward the kitchen.
She covered her head with her hands as a second gunshot ran out.
‘Lily!’ Someone was shouting her name. Hands trembling, she looked up and met Gabriel’s frantic blue gaze. Was it really him?
‘Lily. Are you hurt? Answer me.’
She closed her eyes and fell into his arms. ‘Hold me. Don’t let me go.’
Near crushing her within his tight embrace, he stroked her hair and dropped soft kisses on the top of her head. ‘Never.’
‘I have the other one outside, sir.’ Donald MacCallister stood in the doorway, a lopsided grin on his face. ‘Aye, that big fellow has a hard head. But my fist was harder. I dinna think he’ll be going anywhere for a wee while.’
She clenched onto his shirt and held herself against Gabriel. ‘What about the scullery maid, Polly?’
Mr MacCallister frowned and shook his head. ‘She shot herself, I’m afraid. I tried to stop her, but she had one of those wee guns in her hand and the moment I stepped toward her she pulled the trigger.’
She couldn’t stop trembling. ‘But, how did you find me?’
Gabriel eased back and gazed down upon her, his face lined with concern. ‘After I heard you’d left last night with your aunt on foot, we came looking for you. Mr MacCallister noticed Lester was missing, and when we got to the village I saw Poll
y leaving the bakers and thought it odd she was there and so early. You see, Mrs Peel bakes all her own bread for the manor. So, we followed her as she drove out of the village in old servant’s hack, until she arrived at this farmhouse.’ He kissed her lips then rested his forehead against hers. ‘I just thank the heavens we arrived in time.’
She nodded and closed her eyes, relieved to be alive and in the arms of her love. Mistress or wife, she would never leave them again.
Chapter 25
As they entered through the kitchen of the vicarage, her mama spun around and dropped the china plate she held.
‘Lily!’ Her mother rushed over and helped her to a chair then held her face in shaking hands. ‘What has happened? Are you all right? Annabelle had told me you disappeared from the dance. I have been beside myself with worry.’
‘Perhaps, Mrs Talbot would care to explain?’ Gabriel watched Mr MacCallister as the man carried her aunt into the room, the lump on her head obvious, and dumped her unceremoniously in a chair.
She groaned and shook her head. Poor Mr MacCallister. There had been nothing wrong with the woman’s legs. At the farmhouse, she had bandaged Henrietta’s head with strips of her petticoat, though thankfully the bleeding seemed to have stopped. During the carriage ride back to the vicarage, Henrietta had cried and complained the whole way.
The stableman made to leave. ‘If that will be all, sir. I shall see to the horses until you are ready to depart.’
She smiled. ‘Thank you, Mr MacCallister. Thank you so much.’ Indeed, he had helped rescue her and she would be forever grateful.
The cheeky Scot winked at her then left through the back door.
Her aunt sniffed into her handkerchief and sobbed. ‘I’m sure I have no idea, sir. Whereas I felt Lily should have married Mr Dunford, I had no part in his nefarious scheme. Indeed. It is obvious to me now the man was highly unsuitable from the start. Nothing but a charlatan, pretending to be a genteel farmer.’
Her mama towered over Henrietta, wooden spoon in hand. ‘If you ever attempt to force my daughter into marriage again, or anything else for that matter, I swear on my husband’s grave I will throttle you myself !’ Henrietta paled then began sobbing again.