“Because it is at least fifty years old, and likely to injure you more than the person you aim it at. It could take your fingers off, if it doesn’t dislocate your shoulder first.” He watched her pale and stare down at the gun in alarm. “Keep it well out of Robbie’s reach,” he warned, for emphasis. His eyes met hers across the bedroom; he could see the questions in her eyes and hoped that he had given her just enough of a warning to reassure her that he meant her no harm.
Prudence stared down at the wicked looking object while he fell asleep. She was suddenly very glad that she hadn’t been able to find any shot for it. In spite of the fact that it was the middle of the night, and the attics were freezing cold, she quietly made her way to the upper floor and hoped she could find her father’s old trunk in the darkness.
CHAPTER SEVEN
If he didn’t get off this bed soon, Stephen was certain that he was going to go stark raving mad. The following day, his patience had worn so thin that he had started to plot how to tear the bed apart just to be able to get up and about. He had no intention of leaving the house; he just wanted the freedom to be able to at least stand up.
“Robbie!” He called when he spotted the flurry of movement outside the door. He had hoped that Prudence would make a return visit but she seemed to be avoiding him, and that disturbed more than he wanted to admit. Although Eloisa had appeared with a hearty breakfast several hours earlier, and Georgiana had collected his tray, he had not seen hide nor hair of the beautiful woman he really wanted to see.
“What’s your name, mister?” The young lad asked in a rather timid voice. He hovered uncertainly in the doorway as though he was looking into the lion’s den. Stephen knew that if anyone in the house was going to be easy to persuade, it would be the young boy; if only he could get past the fear that was evident in Robbie’s eyes.
“I am glad that someone has asked me,” Stephen grumbled. “I was starting to think that nobody cared.” He smiled at the boy and gave him a rueful look. “My name is Stephen.”
“Stephen what?”
“Stephen Montague.” He sighed when the boy remained in the doorway. Clearly he had been instructed to stay out of the room and had every intention of carrying out his orders to the letter.
“Why were you trying to kill me?”
Stephen stared at him in horror. “Is that what you think I was going to do?” He shook his head slowly, relieved to note that the pain in his head was now down to more manageable levels. “I was merely trying to stop you from finding Mr Simpson’s body.”
“Did you kill him?”
“No, I didn’t. That’s a promise,” Stephen replied firmly, determined to put paid to that particular idea. “I may be many things, but I am no murderer.”
“What were you doing down on our beach though?”
Stephen decided that if he had any chance of currying the young boy’s favour, he had to be honest with him as much as he could be.
“I saw someone leave Mr Simpson’s body there. I wasn’t sure whether Mr Simpson was still alive, but only found him a few minutes before you arrived. I wasn’t sure what you were doing and didn’t want to scare you so kept away, but then you decided to investigate the body.” He smiled wryly at the boy’s avid curiosity and applauded the innocence of youth. “I was trying to get you to go back to the house where it was safe. I was going to tell Mr Denbigh where to find Mr Simpson’s body.”
“Robbie Freestone, you get away from that door right now.” Prudence’s order broke the companionable silence. Stephen swore silently at the lost opportunity and watched a closed expression appear on Robbie’s face.
“It’s alright, Prudence, Robbie was just telling me that he thought I was going to kill him last night.”
Prudence stared at him and wished him in Hades. What was it about him that had such a profound effect on her? She had tried her very best to stay downstairs all morning, but the low murmur of a richly masculine voice had drawn her like a bee to a flower.
“His name is Stephen,” Robbie piped up. All trace of fear had vanished from his face which was now alive with curiosity.
Prudence nodded and felt a thrill of awareness sweep through her. He was already familiar to her in so many ways. Stephen. She rolled the name around in her mind, checking its size. He looked like a Stephen; if anyone could look like their name. She couldn’t see him as a Rufus, or Simon, or anyone else. Stephen. She liked it, although she was never going to tell him that.
“He saw someone leave Mr Simpson on the beach last night and was trying to get me to leave the body alone when I called for you.”
“Has Rufus been yet?” Stephen interrupted when it looked as though Robbie intended to recount the entire evening’s events.
Prudence shook her head. She felt strangely deflated that the magistrate hadn’t followed through with his promise and come by to check on them, but had to remind herself, and her sisters, that he was a very busy man and had most probably forgotten. Still, the feeling that they were all alone with this new problem made her more than a little fearful about their immediate future. It was bad enough that Levant called by practically every other day, but to add to that, they now had one of his staff living in one of their bedrooms. How much worse could their situation get?
Stephen flicked a glance at Robbie. “Can I have a moment alone with you please, Prudence?”
Prudence studied him for a moment and briefly wondered if he wanted to use the chamber pot again. That particularly embarrassing encounter was going to remain with her for some considerable time, but it was the least she could do given the injuries they had caused him. She ushered Robbie downstairs and entered the bedroom.
“Have you been back down to the beach yet?”
Prudence studied him for a moment. “Not yet. There have been jobs to do here.”
“Did you move Mr Simpson’s body?”
“Why?” Prudence frowned at him and wondered whether he had been trying to get rid of evidence when they had disturbed him last night.
“Tell me, Prudence, did you move Mr Simpson’s body?” The fervency in his voice raised her ire, and she studied him for several long moments.
“We moved it further up the beach to the base of the cliffs. The tide doesn’t go in that far very often so it is most probably still there. Why, do you want to get rid of the evidence of your crimes?”
“It is not what you think.”
Prudence snorted inelegantly. “What am I supposed to think?” She snapped, and stared at him in disgust. Her anger came from nowhere, and she didn’t seem able to stem the tide of words that lashed him. “What am I supposed to think, Stephen; if that is your real name? You work for the most reviled man in the county. One who has a reputation of brutality and threats, and employs thugs to do his dirty work.” She pointed one long finger at him. “You are our enemy. You were down on our beach last night, alone, in the dark, with a dead body. You threatened Robbie.”
“How?” Stephen asked. He wished to hell that he could remove the ties so he could at least stand up. He hated having an argument while flat on his back, stark naked in bed. “What did I threaten him with? Have you asked him?”
Prudence frowned at that and hesitated. Stephen made full use of the silence.
“I wasn’t threatening him, I was warning him to get off the beach and back home where it was safe. The lad shouldn’t be wandering around in the dark and should stay the hell away from Dinnington. I found him there the other night, looking for one of the stable hands, Will. He is one of Levant’s thugs too. Why is Robbie looking for him? He should be at home, in front of the fire where it is safe. None of Levant’s staff are suitable to be the boy’s friend. They are trying to get him to work with them, Prudence, as young as he is. What then? What will happen to the boy if Levant gets his claws into him? You have seen Mr Simpson. He was the last person who crossed Levant, and look at him now.”
Although Stephen didn’t raise his voice, each word he uttered felt like a hammer blow to Prudence’
s shattered emotions. She listened with growing horror and the dreadful realisation that if it hadn’t been for the man on the bed, Robbie could already have been working for Levant. She knew Stephen was telling her the truth. Although he didn’t know it, she and Eloisa had been witnesses to his exchange with Robbie in Dinnington woods.
“Prudence, you need to send for Rufus. If he isn’t here by two o’clock, send Robbie to go and leave a word at his house. Rufus needs to get his hands on Simpson’s body. Just go and check that it is still there. Please, don’t go down onto the beach. Just take a look from the cliff path and come and tell me if it is still there.”
“Who are you?” Prudence whispered as she frowned at him. Fear began to grow and settled deep in the pit of her stomach at the desperation in his voice. She couldn’t help but wonder just what Levant’s presence in the village had dragged them into.
“Believe me when I tell you that I am most definitely not your enemy,” Stephen growled. “Right now, I might be down, but I am not out. However, I do need your help.” He hated to ask. It irked him that he was at such a disadvantage in the first place. To show this woman any further sign of weakness went against everything he had been brought up to believe in, but there was little else for it. Levant would probably be looking for him and, if he wasn’t, was due to pay Prudence and her sisters another visit at some point today. If Stephen had any hope of being able to get off the bed, and be in a position to help them if Levant turned nasty, he had to gain her trust.
“I need to discuss matters with Rufus when he gets here. You need to let me up, Prudence, because you know as well as I do that Levant is due to visit again any day now.”
As if on cue, the sound of horses’ hooves on the gravel driveway drew her attention and she hurried to the window.
“Don’t open the shutter all the way, just open it a crack so that you can see through but they cannot see you,” Stephen’s soft voice warned her.
She cast him a quick glance but followed his instructions to the letter.
Stephen knew it was Levant from the look of dread that swept over Prudence’s face. “I am going to help you, Prudence, but I need to get my strength back a bit first. Go downstairs and pretend that everything is normal. Don’t invite the man in; don’t answer the door and don’t agree to anything.”
Prudence froze at Stephen’s words and turned to stare at him. Was he linked to Rufus in some way? His words echoed the magistrate’s almost word for word, but Stephen had been nowhere near at the time. Just what one earth was going on?
“Don’t answer the door,” Prudence yelled, aware that she had only moments before Levant would reach the front door. Sure enough, she was half way down the stairs when a dull knocking began at the back of the house.
“What do we do?”
“Stay still and don’t panic,” Prudence ordered and waved everyone into the hallway as she scurried around and closed the doors, encasing them in silence. “Keep quiet. We will wait until they are gone.” She briefly considered untying Stephen, but quickly decided against it. She had no idea just yet if his words of caution were part of some sort of elaborate trick, and wasn’t prepared to risk the family in order to find out that he had duped her. Whoever he was; whatever he was; he was not going to be untied until she had a few questions answered.
“Should we gag him?” Robbie gasped as he nodded upstairs. His small face was lit with a ruthless excitement that made Prudence shake her head even when she briefly contemplated the notion and shook her head.
If Stephen was going to yell for help from his friends, now was the time to do it. Silence settled over them while they waited. Eloisa gasped at the sound of rapid series of taps against the window pane in the sitting room at the same time as loud thumps on the front door beside them began in earnest. It felt as though they were under siege and she hated it.
Prudence felt a surge of anger sweep through her. The noise that surrounded them made her want to wrench the door open and give the men outside a piece of her mind. It was only the look of rampant fear on each of her sibling’s faces that stopped her. She sighed when their mother decided to add to the cacophony and began to wail and hammer on the door.
“Go and shut her up,” Prudence snarled to nobody in particular and hurried up the stairs to her own room. She stalked across to the bed and gave Stephen a dark look. “You had better have been telling me the truth, or I am going to pray that your soul gets taken by the very devil himself.”
“Who is downstairs?” The calmness in his voice made her frown deeply. Did he not understand the family’s distress his boss’ presence outside was causing?
“Eloisa is checking on mama, but everyone else is downstairs in the hallway,” she snapped, wondering how that mattered. “Robbie is there too,” she hastened to assure him. Thankfully, she had refused to allow Robbie to go out to the woods to play earlier. He was safely ensconced in the hallway with Georgiana, Madeline and Maggie.
“I mean outside,” Stephen sighed. He dropped his head into his hands when he sat upright and the room swirled alarmingly.
“Levant, Humphrey, a tall man that he usually has riding with him, and some other man I haven’t seen before.”
“Describe him.”
The cool authority in Stephen’s voice made her hesitate.
He seemed to sense her doubt and glanced up at her. “My head hurts too much right now, but I will explain when I can. Until then, I need to know who they have replaced me with,” he growled. He hated to feel so weak, especially with the wolves baying at the door, and couldn’t help but wonder where in the hell Rufus had got to.
Prudence disappeared to the window and eased the shutter back just like he had told her to earlier.
“He is stout, with long, greasy black hair. He has a frayed pair of trousers on and a dark leather waistcoat.”
“Will,” Stephen sighed, unsurprised that the most ruthless member of the staff had joined in the fray in his absence.
“Will?” Horrified, Prudence turned to stare at him. “The Will that Robbie wanted to meet up with the other night?”
Stephen lifted his brows and wondered if Robbie had told his sister what had happened. He had put the fear of God into the young lad, and was glad to have had the chance to do so. He nodded when he realised that Prudence still waited for him to answer.
“Oh no,” Prudence whispered in a mournful voice. “Oh, no, no, no.” She turned around, fear, worry and horror clearly written on her face.
“What is it? Prudence?” Despite the dizziness that made his stomach churn, Stephen moved to stand beside her. He peered through the gap in the shutters to the garden and driveway outside. Sure enough, Will was just remounting his horse, and was quickly joined by a clearly disgruntled Levant, Taylor and Brown. He watched the men turn and slowly amble down the driveway and, at first, didn’t notice that Prudence had fallen strangely silent. He frowned down at the top of her head. Was she crying?
“What is it?” He glanced at the driveway. A sudden flash of fear made him study the landscape outside with more astute eyes. There was nobody else there. Prudence had told him that there were four riders, and four riders were just leaving. What had upset her so?
“Prudence?” When she didn’t immediately answer him, he gently placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. Although the tears didn’t fall, he could see them on her lashes. He frowned down at her, unsure if Levant’s visit had upset her so, or whether it was something else.
“The garden,” she whispered. “Look at what they have done to the garden.” Her voice broke and she sucked in a breath to steady herself.
There, beneath the window, was what could only be described as carnage. The plants and seeds she had lovingly tended and left in neatly planted rows had been torn up, presumably sometime during the night, and left scattered around the muddy soil. Most of the plants had been ruined beyond redemption having been stomped into the mud, broken in half and generally smashed into mulch.
&nbs
p; Stephen knew that this had dire consequences for the family. They couldn’t afford to buy new plants from market, and there wasn’t the weather, or the time in the season to grow new plants for the vegetables they would need. The food that the family desperately needed to sustain them had just been destroyed in the cruellest of ways.
“Don’t worry, Prudence,” he whispered. He drew the shutter closed, partly to block out the sight of the riders turning out of the driveway, and partly to block Prudence’s view of the destruction they had wreaked on the family. “We will work around this.”
If he had to go to market himself and purchase an abundance of plants for the garden, then he would do it. Right now though, he knew that they would most probably just be pulled back up again anyway, so it would be a futile exercise.
It felt as though Levant’s callous act of vandalism had just sealed his future, because Stephen knew with absolute certainty that whatever happened between him and Prudence, he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, leave the family to fend for themselves. Not even when Levant was either in jail or dead.
He could only hope that he could bring Levant to justice before Prudence and her family paid a much higher price than a few spring vegetables.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It unnerved him greatly that once the ladies had learned of the mess the garden had been left in, they hadn’t wept and wailed, they hadn’t screamed and ranted, they had merely stared askance at the mess that had been left behind before they had waded in to clear the debris aside and dig the garden over.
He had been aware of Georgiana’s tearful occasional sniffs, but wasn’t sure if she was silently crying or simply cold. None of the ladies seemed adequately clothed for winter and had braved the autumnal weather with nothing more than muslin dresses and woollen shawls to protect them from the stiff sea breezes. They were either incredibly hardy souls, or dicing with severe winter illness.
Stephen had suspected that the family were borderline destitute. He had never realised just how impoverished they were, or how inventive they had been forced to be because of their lack of funds. Everything, absolutely everything, had been used, re-used, mended and, when it was beyond the use it had been made for, it was reshaped, resized and used again for something else. There wasn’t anything of excess in the house, and the items that were there all had a direct purpose and use. It was as though someone had been through the house and either cast out or sold anything that was deemed as frivolous or unnecessary. Had they sold everything they could to earn some extra money?
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