“Wait for me!” Cassie called and ran after her.
Deanna cut over to the walk. The wind was stronger near the cliff; beneath them the waves were crashing loud against the rocks. Out of the fog, Deanna thought she caught a glimpse of a ship before it disappeared again.
Ahead of her, the figures seemed to have slowed down. And when she at last reached them, she saw that Lord David had grabbed his sister . . . and was holding a gun to her head.
“She’s crazy,” he said. “I’ve tried to help her, but there’s nothing to be done.”
“Put the gun down, Manchester. It was Swan, who wasn’t Swan at all, but Will finally divested of turban and robe, though his face and hands were still covered in black.
Will stood alert. Joe moved in beside him, and Orrin next to Joe.
“Stay back,” Will ordered Deanna. Deanna stopped. Elspeth stood rigidly nearby. Slowly she began inching her way toward Deanna. Across the lawn, the other guests crowded together in the open doorway. But Deanna was focused only on the two Manchesters.
“He’s lying,” Madeline cried. “He killed the maids and made me poison Swan. He said he would kill me if I didn’t do it.”
Lord David laughed. Turned her around and kissed her savagely. “Adieu, sister dear.”
He pushed her toward the trio of men. She fell into Joe, who staggered back from the force of the impact.
“David!” she screamed.
“He’s getting away!” Elspeth yelled as Lord David turned and ran.
Madeline squirmed, then rammed her head into Joe’s stomach.
He looked down as if he couldn’t believe it.
She clawed at his face.
“Joe, do something!” Deanna yelled.
Joe tried to grab hold of Madeline’s hands to restrain her, but she thrashed wildly.
“Now he decides to be a gentleman,” Deanna muttered. “Come on.” She and Elspeth ran to either side of Madeline and pulled her away. But she twisted and wrenched out of their hands and ran.
Straight at the cliff.
She was there and then she was gone. Not hidden by the fog this time. But into darkness. All that was left was her scream.
After a stunned moment, they ran as one to the edge of the cliff. At first they could see nothing. Then, through the mist, they saw the body of Madeline Manchester lying unmoving on the rocks, until she was again swallowed by the fog.
“Six feet away she would have fallen into the water and had a chance of survival,” Joe said.
“Serves her right,” Elspeth muttered.
Deanna nodded and turned to Joe, only he was no longer there. He was running after Will and Orrin in pursuit of Lord David.
From the north, circles of light appeared, followed by the shrill of whistles. Reinforcements would cut off his escape.
Lord David stopped, realized he was surrounded, and turned abruptly to run back the way he had come.
And ran straight into Joe, who tackled him at the knees. Lord David went down hard.
But a quick movement of his feet upended Joe, and he fell beside him. Lord David staggered to his feet and started off again, but Joe launched himself at the man’s back, and both men went down. They rolled along the walk, locked together in combat.
And awfully close to the edge of the cliff.
From out on the sea, a foghorn sounded, then the blowing of a ship’s horn, but Deanna hardly noticed it. Every nerve was taut as she watched the two men inch closer and closer to the edge. Then, suddenly, both men were on their feet.
Lord David pushed Joe away and, in the moment they were parted, he turned enough to smile at Deanna, then stepped over the edge. Joe grabbed for him, but he was too late to save Lord David . . . or himself.
Both men disappeared over the cliff.
Chapter
28
Deanna screamed and rushed to the place where the two men had been. She knew it was a straight drop from there to the water. They could be drenched but alive.
“Down there,” she cried to Will, who motioned to his men, and they spread out, some shining lights straight out into the water, others finding places nearby where they could climb down. If only one of those lanterns would find them. Deanna wanted to go look but knew she would be in the way.
So she and Elspeth stood on the walk and stared down into the dark sea until it hurt.
There was no sign of either man.
From out at sea, they heard the steam whistle of a passing yacht.
“That’s coming closer,” Orrin said. “Listen.”
Deanna and Elspeth held each other and listened.
“The whistle is getting higher,” Deanna said.
“That’s because sound shifts to a higher frequency when it’s coming closer.”
“How do you know that?” Elspeth asked, her voice trembling.
“Mr. Joseph told me.” His voice broke. “I sure hope they find him alive.”
Deanna squeezed her eyes shut and prayed.
It was cold, and someone brought them blankets to wrap around their shoulders. Gran Gwen came out to stand beside them.
Deanna looked up. “He went over the side with Lord David.”
Gran Gwen nodded. “He’s jumped off that cliff hundreds of times as a boy.”
“But—”
“Hush, child.”
Will dispatched four men to retrieve Madeline’s body and sent the rest to spread out searching closer to the rocks in case they had washed ashore. The wayward lights became smaller, fainter.
“They won’t give up looking, will they?” Elspeth asked.
“They’d better not,” said Orrin.
Gran Gwen just looked out to sea.
The night drew on; Will climbed back up to where they were standing. What Deanna could see of his face looked grim.
“Will?” Gran Gwen said.
“Nothing yet. But we’ll find him.”
Find him, thought Deanna. She wanted to shout. You have to find him alive. “Why did the Manchesters have to come here? Why did we trust them?”
No one answered. Only Gran Gwen, Will, and she still stood on the cliff. Vlady, Cassie, and the others had gone to watch the policemen carry Madeline’s body across the rocks and up the steps that led from the beach.
Orrin was taking Elspeth back inside, but they stopped to watch with the others. “I think she’s dead, Miss Deanna,” Orrin called out.
Good, Deanna thought, but her throat wouldn’t let the word escape. She didn’t care. She hoped Madeline was dead. She hoped Lord David was dead. Just please save Joe.
Finally, Will took them both by the arm. “Let me take you inside. I’ll let you know as soon as there’s any word.”
But Gran Gwen wouldn’t budge. Deanna moved closer to her. “They’ll find him.” But she was beginning to lose hope.
Hours had passed, or so it seemed, when out of the mist arose a ship. Like a phantom boat. For the briefest second, Deanna thought maybe this had all been a part of the plan, but she knew it wasn’t so.
Then she heard voices and the sound of a boat docking in the distance.
“The yacht,” Gran Gwen said, as if in a dream. “Lionel and your father were coming up in the yacht tonight.”
“My father?” Deanna asked.
“Yes, and to come home to this.”
“No,” Deanna said, and began to cry.
Gran Gwen took her by the shoulders. “We must meet them. Tell them what has transpired.”
“No.”
“Come, Deanna, we must be brave.”
They walked south, past the rocks where Madeline had fallen. Past the wooden staircase that led to their private beach, where she and Joe had been friends again, if only for a little while. Down the sloping path to where Mr. Ballard’s yacht, the Laurette, had docked. Deanna cou
ld see it through the clearing fog. The activity of the deck hands was so normal that she couldn’t believe that things were not.
She heard Gran Gwen’s intake of breath and saw Lionel Ballard walking down the gangplank with—she looked more closely—her own father. And between them another man, wrapped in a blanket.
Deanna grabbed Gran Gwen’s hand and squeezed it as they both watched the men step onto the dock and begin the ascent up to the lawn until they were in full view.
Deanna wanted to run just to put them out of their worry, but Gran Gwen moved slowly, stately. They were still several yards away when Gran Gwen whispered, “Mon Dieu. Gloire à Dieu.”
And then Deanna saw. It was Joe, wet and huddled in the blanket. Deanna ran and didn’t stop until she was standing in front of them. “That was so stupid! You could be dead!”
“But I’m not,” Joe said, taken aback.
“But you could be! And you worried Gran Gwen. Idiot!”
Her father interceded. “Yes, yes, Deanna. But let’s wait until Joe has dry clothes and a brandy before you tell him so.”
Then she noticed a fourth man walking a foot behind them.
Lord David?
She would scratch his eyes out. She stepped in front of him, but even in the dark she realized she’d never seen him before.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“Deanna!” her father warned, but Lionel Ballard laughed.
“Miss Deanna Randolph, meet Lord David Manchester.”
It was a good hour later, the guests had departed, and Joe was finally dry and sipping brandy like it was any other night at home.
Whenever he looked up and saw Deanna glaring at him, he looked sheepish and went back to studying his brandy snifter.
Introductions had been made, and Will and Joe explained their plan to catch a murderer; they didn’t even mention Deanna and Elspeth’s part in at all.
Elspeth was out of earshot because she and Orrin were eating leftovers in the kitchen with Cook, but Deanna heard every pompous word. When she couldn’t stand Will and Joe’s bravado any longer, she blurted out, “If you’re the real Lord Manchester, who were those other two?”
“I haven’t the foggiest,” said new Lord David. He did have blue eyes and a drooping mustache, but those were the only features that were even close to the former Lord David. He was shorter than average height, had a high forehead and a slightly receding chin. “I began to be concerned when Mr. Woodruff never arrived at my plantation last month. So I sent a telegram to Lionel here, and when I learned that I was already in Newport, I immediately boarded my yacht and came to see what I was doing here.”
Deanna started to smile. This new Lord David was certainly an odd creature. But she already liked him more than she’d ever like the old Lord David, despite that one’s good looks.
“I missed Lionel’s telegram to my bank, but fortunately, I landed in New York Harbor this morning and went to R and W just in time to catch these gentlemen preparing to leave for Newport. So I hopped a ride.”
“I don’t understand,” Deanna said.
“Nor I,” Joe added. “I mean, I get that those two were imposters, some kind of swindlers. But the only people who knew what they were about are dead or missing.”
“The hospital rang earlier to say that Madeline, or the woman who called herself Madeline, succumbed to her injuries shortly after being admitted.”
“Did she suffer?” Deanna asked.
“Yes, Madame Guillotine, she did.”
“Good.”
“Deanna . . .” her father began.
“Yes, good,” Gran Gwen said.
“A couple of avenging angels,” Mr. Randolph said.
“Nothing angelic about either of them,” Joe mumbled.
“You, young man,” said his father, “keep your opinions to yourself.”
“My men are still looking for Lord—the other Lord David’s body. So far, nothing. He might never be found, depending on the tides.”
“But he is dead,” Gran Gwen said.
“Most probably,” Will said. He’d wiped most of the burnt cork off his face and hands, leaving only a streak at his neck and around his eyes.
“I lost hold of him,” Joe said. “I called to him, but he swam away. As if he didn’t want to be saved. Then I was being grappled out of the water by the Laurette. I don’t think I thanked you properly, sir.”
“You will, son. You will.”
Joe sank down into his chair.
Mr. Randolph put his glass down. “Well, if Francis revives, he’ll tell us what happened, by God.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Ballard agreed.
“Unfortunately, the prognosis isn’t good,” Joe said.
Will cleared his throat. “Thanks to your daughter, Mr. Randolph, we were able to obtain a specimen of the medicine being administered to him. It was laced with a potent depressant. It would surely have killed him eventually, but we would never have guessed how he died.”
“That must have been what Daisy saw,” Deanna said. Tears sprang to her eyes; she couldn’t help it.
Joe leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “And I prevented her from going to tell Orrin what she knew. She might be alive if I hadn’t been so chivalrous.”
“Deanna and Elspeth were right,” Will added. “And I didn’t believe them. I thought they’d been reading too many dime novels.”
Deanna saw her father cut her a quick look and smother a smile.
“What about Swan?” Deanna asked. “Will he recover? He must know what happened or have been a part of it.” She got up to pour herself and Gran Gwen more tea. “I hope he wasn’t in on it. He warned us to get away.”
“We’ll have to wait and see; the doctor believes Elspeth got to him in time, and he has a good chance of recovering,” Will said.
Deanna handed Gran Gwen her cup and went back to her seat.
“Deanna?” Her father asked. “Where are your shoes?”
She looked down at her feet. She’d taken off her wet hose when they’d first come back into the house and had forgotten about her shoes in the excitement that followed.
“I don’t know. Somewhere outside.”
Her father put his hand to his forehead. “Thank heaven your mother isn’t here.”
“Is she coming?”
“Not anytime soon. The doctor has recommended she take Adelaide to Switzerland to one of those nice spas for the cure. She’s arranging the trip now.”
“Mama wrote to say she was sending Aunt Harriet to me.”
“So she told me. But once your mother and sister are gone to Switzerland, I think we can dispense with Aunt Harriet. You’ll stay in the city with me or here with Gran Gwen during the week, if she’ll have you.”
Gran Gwen nodded. “I’d be delighted, George.”
“Thank you. But, Gwen, try not to make an anarchist out of her before we return to New York for the fall.”
Gran Gwen just smiled.
Chapter
29
On the day Swan, the obeah man, awoke to consciousness, Francis Woodruff breathed his last.
Will picked Joe and Deanna up in a hansom on his way to the hospital.
“I probably shouldn’t let you in on my conversation with Swan, but since you were both so involved in the outcome, you may listen.” He gave Deanna a pointed look. “Listen.”
She nodded.
Will showed his badge first at the front desk and then to the officer assigned to sit outside the door of Swan’s private room.
Swan was sitting up in bed in a white hospital robe, which made his complexion seem even darker. His eyes were nearly black until he looked up.
Then his eyes widened and flashed, and he seemed to shrink a bit beneath sheet. But he didn’t look away as he watched Will approach.
And he didn’t hesitate when Will asked his first question.
He told them that Lord David and Madeline, whose names were really Harry and Mary Osbourne, had in fact been brother and sister, but not plantation owners. They were actors.
“Two actors whose company had been stranded by their manager when the money ran out. They found me by the road. I was an obeah man in Barbados, but my people beat me, drove me from my village, and left me to die by the road because the chief’s son died and I could not bring him back to life. Harry and Mary found me and took me in. We became . . .”
“Swindlers,” Joe interjected.
“Yes, swindlers. Harry was very good at it. It was the way he and Mary survived, by trickery, when they could not find an acting job.
“We are on the same steamer to Barbados with Mr. Woodruff. He gambles—not very well—and consorts with the ladies, Mary included. He loses. Every night he loses and takes Mary off to his bed.”
Deanna reeled on her feet. Father and son. Madeline had seduced both. It was horrifying.
“We get close to Barbados; he is more reckless. He loses all the money he is to pay for sugar, then he gives Harry stocks so he can lose some more.”
“When we dock and he realizes what he has done, he begs my master to hold on to the stocks until he can buy them back. The three of them concoct a plan for my master to be this Lord David and come to Newport for more money.
“Mr. Woodruff, he thinks he can raise more money, then return to Barbados for the sugar.” Swan tapped his temple with a long finger. “But Harry, he is very clever. He don’t tell Mr. Woodruff, but he plans to sell those stocks to the big sugar man in New York.”
“Havemeyer,” Joe said in disgust.
“Yes, that is him. He pays very much for them, much more than they’re worth, my master says. Now Harry has much money.”
“Except that he drowned in the ocean.”
“Perhaps. You have found him?”
“Not yet,” Will admitted. “We may never recover his body. The currents are swift there.”
“Or perhaps that is because he doesn’t wish to be found.”
“If he sets foot on American soil, he’ll be arrested and sent to prison.”
A Gilded Grave Page 34