by Heather Boyd
Mercy embraced her sister tightly. That Blythe had changed her mind and would remain here relieved Mercy beyond belief. Now she had only one soul to worry about outside the abbey walls.
Blythe’s embrace grew stronger and then her arms fell away. “You look tired.”
“It’s been a stressful morning. Can you stay with Edwin for awhile?”
“Of course. But what is going on? Your butler was behaving very strangely. He questioned me about the servants I brought to the abbey. He even demanded their names.”
Mercy clutched her sister’s hands. “Leopold saw a stranger outside the abbey last night. He is convinced it is the person threatening us.”
Blythe cried out softly. “You are not thinking of going outside are you? You must stay close to Edwin.”
“No. I will stay inside the abbey, but the waiting is driving me to the brink of madness. To distract myself, I want to continue searching for clues about Leopold’s siblings. If the worst comes to pass, the estate may very well need them.”
“Surely it won’t come to that. But I understand your thinking. If not for my husband having a son from his first marriage, that estate would have fallen to the worst side of that family.” Blythe nodded slowly, her gaze fixed on Edwin where he slept. “I will guard him with my last breath.”
Blythe was always a touch too dramatic. Mercy threw her arms around her sister. “I’m sure it won’t come to that but thank you.”
She turned around and approached the wall containing the only entrance to the duke’s real study—a narrow space connected to three main chambers: drawing room, dining room, and study. The one place she had not searched already but the place she really should have checked first when Leopold had told her of his lost siblings.
Mercy slid her fingers over the rose carvings and set her fingertips apart on the wood. She pushed each petal evenly until the wall issued a clicking noise.
Perhaps she should be ashamed that she had not shown Leopold this chamber, but if the answers he needed were found before she had convinced him to remain, he would have gone too quickly for her comfort. The chamber was not marked on any architectural plan for the abbey that she had ever seen, and she had no idea how long ago it was constructed. It was very likely that Leopold had no knowledge of the chamber. She would tell him when the time was right.
Blythe handed her a lit candle. “I do not like it much in there.”
Mercy pushed the candle away. “I don’t particularly care for the confines either, but it is our best chance for success. I’ll return as soon as I discover something. If you need me, knock on the wall. The sound will travel to me easily enough and I will return to you.”
Blythe nodded as Mercy closed the door softly. She turned as her eyes adjusted to the muted light and then moved into the room, keeping her steps slow and her breathing shallow against the dust that rose up to fill her nose. She only came here when she absolutely had to, and it was only by accident that she had spied the old duke disappearing into the space at all. When he and her husband had passed away, Mercy and Blythe had explored the chamber. Blythe was always anxious to leave the tiny, windowless space, preferring to wait at the door to ensure they could always get out.
Mercy moved to the left wall and to the peep hole that looked into the study. She stretched up on to her toes and peered inside. Leopold stood with his back to her, bent over a large map. The estate? She couldn’t tell from this distance and she shifted slightly to look beyond him when she saw another shape. What was Eamon Murphy, the biggest gossip known to mankind, doing here with Leopold?
She ducked from view as both men lifted their heads suddenly and looked around.
Spying was an unsavory habit. But for the time being it was best not to distract Leopold with thoughts of his other concerns. If she found the answers he needed, then she would tell him as soon as the danger passed. She just hoped he would not disappear immediately after that.
Most of the light illuminating the chamber drifted in from diamond shaped holes cut behind three mirrors in the adjoining rooms. Those large and heavy mirrors had never been taken down and could only be cleaned in situ. A cunning design, indeed. Not one servant to her knowledge, not even Wilcox, had ever mentioned the irregularity or the odd dimensions of the adjoining chambers.
She sat down on a leather upholstered chair. In his day, the old duke had dabbled in many things; investments, successions in other duchies, and matters likely addressed in parliament. But there had been nothing she had read so far that hinted at the whereabouts of any Randall relations. But then she reasoned, their disappearance had been many years ago.
She scanned the spines on the book shelves above her head. There were dozens of volumes, some marked with the numbers on the spine. She took down the first one and opened it to a random page. The hand writing was bold, strong, and undoubtedly belonged to her late father-in-law. But the writing was not in exact English. Why ever had he written them in an addled code?
She grabbed another and flicked through the pages, squinting in the hopes of making sense from the squiggles. She spied a date that seemed familiar and as she followed the lines of characters down the page she thought she saw a pattern. The dates advanced at odd intervals, matched with more indecipherable squiggles. She flipped the pages. There were pages of notations, all leading up to a year ago when her husband had died. The final line—September, 1812 - Gone to God, was written in a different hand.
She looked at the date again and her hands shook. Her father-in-law had been dead six months when Edwin had died and could not have possibly recorded it. She glanced around nervously, half expecting someone to emerge from the shadows to catch her snooping in here. Someone aside from herself and Blythe knew about the room and its contents.
Although her heart hammered, she slid her finger over the page until she found Edwin’s date of birth, the date the stranger came to her bed, and the date of her marriage. However, there were so many notations in between that she wondered what on earth her husband had been doing with his days that the duke felt the need to mark them down.
Her husband had been an unexcitable man, or so she thought. This couldn’t be all about him.
She pulled down the next journal, marked with the number three, and on a whim, flicked the pages until she reached the end. The last entry had been made yesterday in the same unfamiliar handwriting as the first book. It simply said; home. Was this book about Leopold?
After a quick glance through the pages, it seemed very likely. The book contained many notations of money and foreign sounding names that twisted her tongue. Heart in her throat, she rechecked the dates carefully. There were four around the time her stranger had come to share her bed, evenly spaced around that heavenly night.
What to do? She had only her suspicions, but she was certain these journals could contain important keys to finding what Leopold sought. She couldn’t resist digging further, but puzzles were not her specialty. However, Blythe was good with puzzles and games. But could Mercy risk exposing her suspicions to a sister who thought her on the brink of scandal every other minute? She might discover she was right if she cracked the code and uncovered Edwin’s parentage.
Mercy pressed her head into her hand. She was so tired of keeping the secret from her sister. She would take the risk of showing her the journals and if she uncovered the secret herself, she would confess to the possibility. If she did not, Mercy would tell Blythe herself once the danger had passed. Mind made up, she closed the journal, gathered the first three in her arms and returned to the drawing room.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Darkness cloaked Romsey Abbey in sinister shadows, reminding Leopold of all the nightmares he’d endured while away from England. Visions where Rosemary pressed against the glass of an upper bedchamber window, calling for him to come save her from the old duke’s clutches teased at his mind. During the dream, he’d not been able to storm the abbey and save his sister. He’d been trapped outside and alone while the old duke hovered, watc
hing like a specter.
Leopold had thought that dreams of his sister in danger where the worst of his imagination could conjure up on a wind tossed night. Not so, however. His mind now imagined up the worst terrors for his son. Edwin, too young and even more defenseless than Rosemary had ever been, faced an unknown threat that he wasn’t sure he could protect him from. In the past, he’d been assured that his siblings were safe from harm, so long as he obeyed. The duke had given his word, and a Randall never went back on that.
This threat coming toward Edwin made no sense. Who the devil would want to harm a child or Mercy? The threat must be from some trouble of the old duke’s making. And he had made sure Leopold would stick around to clean up the mess should he ever come here again. Leopold ground his teeth as anger ripped through him. God, what a mistake he had made five years ago.
He’d given the old man control of his life even from his grave.
Leopold eased closer to the rough timber door and peered out at the kitchen garden. All was quiet and still, and from his vantage point, hidden in a garden shed out of sight, he gazed longingly at the windows where Mercy and Edwin should be resting for the night. He’d love to return to them and take them in his arms. He’d stand between them and danger until his last breath left him. Why couldn’t the Randall’s live peaceably for once in his life? Why must there always be contention and strife? He delighted at watching Edwin play his games. He’d like to have the chance to grow old watching them.
His thoughts about Mercy were less comfortable. Being with her reminded him of all that was missing from his life. Laughter, easy conversation, and a sense of belonging in a place he’d never imagined would feel like home.
But there was no future here with her. A duchess would only have a man like him for a lover. Anything more permanent was completely out of the question. He could never ask for more from her. What little he’d been granted was more than enough. As it was, they were running the risk of discovery. When this was over, he’d move north—far, far away from Mercy so he would never be tempted again. He’d still worry about Edwin, but if he faded from his life it would avoid awkward questions about the similarities in their appearance when the boy was fully grown.
He shook his head. Better to deal with the here and now than worry about the future. Somewhere out there was a killer. He leaned a little closer to the door and looked to where the next man hid. Brown, from the Vulture Inn, had come, too, like many men of the village. But Brown had claimed a spot closest to Leopold, despite Leopold’s assertion that he did not need protection. Eamon had surprised him by overriding his objections very firmly. So he was stuck with Brown as his shadow and guardian, something he’d never had before.
Brown’s head came into view, slowly emerging from the shadows when he should have remained hidden. Leopold frowned. Perhaps he’d been wrong to let the other man hover so close. He’d give away their positions too quickly like this.
The whole of Brown was now visible. He stared at the abbey with fixed attention, shifting slightly as he looked up at the walls.
Leopold looked too and gaped.
A dark shape, a man, clung to the abbey walls and was slowly ascending toward Mercy and Edwin’s floor. Leopold stepped from the shed’s safety, stunned by the intruder’s audacity and astounding ability. Good God, the man possessed skills more akin to an ape than a gentleman. How could he hang there without any apparent effort? He scaled the abbey walls slowly, clinging to the stone work as if he was simply climbing steps. Although Leopold’s first thought was to fire at the intruder, he skirted the abbey via the shadows to get a closer look.
The man wore no harness or apparatus that he could see. He was completely vulnerable clinging to the walls the way he did. If they shot at him and scored a good hit, he’d fall from the wall and be dashed to pieces on the flagstone path below for sure when he landed. He wanted to question the stranger first before any punishment was handed out. But how the devil was he to catch a fellow who climbed like that?
Leopold jumped out of his skin as a shot rang out. Brown had fired, but had luckily missed his target. The intruder clung to the stone work a moment, glanced over his shoulder to where Leopold stood and then, quicker than he could blink, scuttled sideways and disappeared out of sight, around the corner of the building.
“Damn it. He’s getting away!”
Leopold hurried after him at a run. He collided with Brown who’d had the same idea and then took up the chase in earnest. But by then the intruder was down and off the abbey walls, fleeing across the grassy grounds quicker than Leopold could believe possible. The man was also hooting with laughter, as if what he was doing was a great game to him. It wouldn’t be a lark once Leopold got his hands on him. He’d rip him to bloody shreds for threatening his son.
The wind blew hard against Leopold as he ran through the long grass, hampering his progress. But he clearly heard the intruder’s taunting float back to him on the wind. “Run, run, Randall, before there’s a scandal. Don’t let Papa catch you with your hand on your candle.”
More laughter whipped past on the wind before the stranger left the path and disappeared into the tree line without looking back.
Damn it!
Leopold stopped, gasping for breath, as more shots rang out. Bark splintered and rained down on the path ahead where the intruder had vanished moments before. Too little, too late, unfortunately. Whoever it was that had come to Romsey was quick, efficient, and far wilier than Leopold had considered. Given the rate of his disappearance, he knew the grounds and paths around the estate very well to have gotten this close without being noticed. He’d be a mile away from them by now or hiding up one of those blasted trees, out of sight in the darkness. Who the hell was this man?
Eamon Murphy puffed up the rise and joined him. “How the devil did he get past us like that? We had three men near the paths from the trees.”
How indeed? Leopold scanned the darkness around him and then shook his head as he remembered something from his childhood. He pointed. “He came up through the dry stream, keeping low and out of sight of the watchers. Damn it. He knows the duchess has reinforcements now; we’ve lost the advantage of surprise. Bring everyone in. We’ll need a new plan and we need it now.”
When Eamon scurried off to do his bidding, Leopold scanned the tree line. How the hell had anyone else recognized that the low gully was the perfect approach to the abbey on a dark night? Only someone born and bred on the estate might notice the possibility and take advantage of it to get a closer look at the abbey. How could he protect them from a man who knew the abbey as well as he?
~ * ~
Mercy sobbed into her fist to muffle the sound from Edwin. He slept the sleep of an innocent, while Leopold might very well be dying. Despite his earlier warning, Mercy crept to the window and peered out. Below, a large group of men had gathered on the grounds. She scanned them quickly, looking for Leopold among their number. It was hard to tell who was who from this distance and her heart hammered painfully when she could not make him out in the crowd.
It was too dark, the weather too wild, and she had little patience tonight.
Suddenly a dark shape turned and looked up. Leopold. Thank God. He raised a hand in greeting and turned back to the other fellows. Mercy sagged onto the nearest chair and buried her face in her hands. He was alive and well enough to move about with ease. He had survived the night and the danger despite the shots she’d heard.
Blythe came closer. “Is it over?”
“I don’t know. They are all milling about on the grass below.”
Blythe peered out the window. “They will tell us what we need to know. In the mean time, I think you should plan to leave this place at first light. We must get Edwin to safety.”
“Go where?” Mercy demanded. “If one is not safe in one’s home then we’d have little chance upon the road.”
Blythe sighed heavily. “I suppose you are right, but I do not like to leave all the decisions about Edwin’s safety to thi
s Mr. Randall. He has taken control of the duke’s life far too easily.”
“His own life is in danger, too,” Mercy reminded her. “He is a Randall and my son’s heir. Who knows what that deranged fellow wants with Edwin, but he could very well turn his attention on Leopold. I could not bear it if he should be hurt in the defense of us. His family has suffered enough.”
“Must you speak so informally of Mr. Randall?” Blythe fussed with her peach silk wrapper. “You encourage him to overstep his bounds at every turn.”
What would Blythe say if she confessed she’d thought of little else but Leopold for the whole day? What would Blythe do if Mercy confessed she was considering marriage to him? “Family cannot overstep, Blythe.”
A scowl crossed Blythe’s face. “Well, since all seems in order now, perhaps you should get some sleep while you can. If the intruder hasn’t been run off completely, then he surely will be gone for the rest of the night.”
Mercy slewed around to stare at her sister. “Are you not afraid?”
Blythe blinked. “Of course I am afraid. But there is no sense in getting hysterical over something I cannot control. I learned that lesson years ago. You should do better to control your anxiety from those around you, especially around Edwin. You will make him prone to fret.”
Mercy gaped. Even in the midst of danger, Blythe thought to give her a lesson in raising her child. Damn it all if that didn’t make her see red. She might be correct that she should hide her emotions better in front of her son, but when this was over the pair of them were going to sit down and thrash out their differences. She would not tolerate this any longer.
When Blythe lay down on the bed next to Edwin, curling her arm over him protectively as he slept, Mercy’s heart gave a thump. She was so very good with Edwin that if anything ever happened to Mercy she could be assured Edwin would have her love and support in the years to come. It was the only thing keeping her sane.