“No. I’ll wait for Rogan. We know Heyden was the culprit, but we still don’t know if he killed Henry Chantry. I think this letter will answer that question.”
Mary Hooper came rushing through the parlor. She stopped short when she saw the broken furniture and dishes.
“Drat, I missed it.”
“We’ll tell you all about it, Twin,” Wally said. “Won’t we, Beth?”
Beth nodded. Mary sighed. “Mum’s having a fit. You better come with me. You, too, Wally.”
Beth followed her twin sister, but Wally shook his head. “Not till Master Rogan gets back. I’m staying with Miss Evy.”
“Tell Mrs. Croft to come here to the cottage,” Evy said to the twins as they went out.
“Yes, Miss Varley,” they called in unison over their shoulders.
When Wally came down the steps with her crutches, Evy walked into the parlor and sank tiredly into a chair to wait for Rogan.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
When Rogan rode into the front yard an hour later, Wally called out from the parlor, “Master Rogan’s back, Miss. He’s alone. Everyone’s saying Mr. Heyden got away.”
Evy waited anxiously. Beth had gone home, and between Beth’s and Wally’s reporting, the village was astir with the news. A “cracking fight” had occurred in the cottage between Master Rogan Chantry and the newcomer, Heyden van Buren. Already people were out in the lanes talking about it, and a small gathering stood in front of the gate. Wally said Lord Brewster was contacting Scotland Yard.
Mrs. Croft had come hurrying over with Vicar Osgood, who consoled Evy and persuaded himself she was doing well. Afterward, he’d taken the jingle and returned to the rectory to be with Mrs. Osgood, who was down with a summer cold and quite upset that she hadn’t been able to accompany him to the cottage.
Mrs. Croft muttered to herself as she cleaned up the mess of broken porcelain and glass in the pantry so she could get tea on. Always the practical one, Mrs. Croft had managed, on her way over with the vicar, to bring a plate of cakes and sandwiches from the rectory kitchen.
“I always knew it was that blond Dutchman,” she had commented to Evy. “Never trusted him. Gave me the willies when he’d come calling to see you in London.”
Evy was feeling so much better now that the ordeal was over that she let the exaggeration pass.
Rogan entered the front door looking grim. His shirt was torn, and he had dried blood on his temple and forehead. But his unwavering gaze told her not to be alarmed.
“He fired his pistol, first at me, then at my horse. He grazed the stallion’s leg, but I think he’ll come out of it all right.”
His horse, his beautiful black stallion, the one she’d first seen him riding when they met years ago in the woods. “Oh, Rogan, I’m so sorry.”
A hint of a smile appeared. “Just like us, isn’t it? We’re both more worried about my horse than Heyden getting away.” He touched his head and winced. “But I’ll hunt him down. He’ll try to get out of the country and back to the Transvaal.”
Then he looked at her…
Weakness washed over her as his dark, earthy gaze caught and held hers.
He came toward her and stopped midway as his eyes deliberately confronted the crutches she held beside her.
She cringed inside. This was the moment her pride had recoiled from, had dreaded to confront—face to face with Rogan Chantry.
Rogan took the remaining steps two at a time until he stood before her. The warmth in his eyes could not be denied. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her to him as she looked up into his face. His aggressive approach sent her head spinning.
He cupped the back of her head and brought her face to his as their lips met passionately. Abandoning her crutches, she wrapped her arms around his strong shoulders in a moment charged with wild sweetness.
“Darling, remember I told you to wait for me? That I would come back?”
“Rogan…” she whispered, holding him tighter, resting her head against his chest. “It’s been dreadful…without you.”
“I’m sorry I’m so late returning,” he whispered warmly against the side of her face. “There were reasons I can’t explain now, but they were chains that bound me, that kept me from you. But I’ll allow nothing to tear us apart again, Evy. You’re mine. You’ve always been mine from the first time I saw you in the thunderstorm in Grimston Woods. I’ve loved you ever since. And I’m going to love you forever.”
Her heart wanted to burst. She must tell him about Henry, but she couldn’t swim above the sea of emotion that was drowning her into silence. I love you! She could barely keep from declaring her heart.
“I’m in love with you,” he said. “You care for me. I know you do. And I won’t take no for an answer.”
He held her close. Here was the man she loved, the man she wanted, and the man she might have to refuse. She couldn’t handle the thought of loss now and held him tightly.
“Now, what was this about your being pushed down those steps?” His look grew sober.
“I’ll explain everything, but first let’s tend to that head of yours!” Worried about his head injury, she tried to lead him to a chair, but instead he grinned at her and, catching her up, set her in it instead. He turned to Wally.
“It’s Wally, isn’t it?”
“Yes sir. It’s me.”
“Good lad. I’ve got a task for you. I need you to go bring Tibbs’s father from Rookswood. Tell him to bring his bag of medicine over here and see to the stallion.”
“Yes sir!”
“Then go to Rookswood and tell Mrs. Wetherly to send Bixby down with the coach. From there, go to the rectory and inform the vicar and Mrs. Osgood that Evy will be returning to Rookswood with me.”
Rogan looked over at Evy with a slight smile. “You don’t mind staying at Rookswood?”
She smiled and lifted a brow. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”
“Yes. And Wally, I’ll send Bixby down to the rectory later to bring Miss Evy’s bags up to the estate. Got it?”
Wally grinned. “Got it, sir.”
“Good. And don’t think I’ve forgotten you, Wally. You’ll be rewarded later for your friendship to Miss Evy. You and your father, Harold. I understand he wants a new carpenter shop with the latest tools from London?”
Wally sucked in his breath. He looked from Rogan to Evy and back to Rogan again. His grin widened. “Yes sir!”
When he’d gone running out the front door, Evy managed a smile at Rogan. “That was good of you.”
“Just preparing the soil. I’ll be Squire of Rookswood one day.”
“You forgot to tell him to send for Dr. Tisdale. Those bruises on your head must be treated. I’ll get some antiseptic and some wet cloths from Mrs. Croft. She’s in the kitchen making tea.”
“I’ll wait until we get to Rookswood. I’ve learned a lot about survival on the trek to the Zambezi.”
As independent as ever.
“No, you don’t, Master Rogan,” Mrs. Croft said firmly. She entered with tea and the plate of sandwiches and cakes and clucked her tongue over Rogan’s condition as she hustled off for wet cloths and salves.
He smiled toward Mrs. Croft, then sat down beside Evy. Putting his arm around her, he drew her to him and kissed her.
“That should make my aching head feel better before we talk,” he murmured.
“Mrs. Croft will be back in a moment…”
“She’ll need to get used to my adoring inclinations…”
“I’m not sure it’s going to help me concentrate…”
Mrs. Croft brought a basin of water, cloths, and a bottle of ointment and fussed over Rogan while Evy smiled and poured the tea.
Mrs. Croft carried away the basin, and Evy handed him the cup of tea.
“And now! Business. Those crutches… I was told by Lady Camilla in her letter that you’d fallen and hurt yourself seriously and were in the hospital in London, but she didn’t say you’d been attacked.”
“She couldn’t have known. No one knew the truth but Mrs. Croft. I didn’t know whether I could trust anyone.”
“That was wise, not only for your sake, but if the story had gotten out, you wouldn’t have been able to trip up Heyden for knowing too much about the incident. Anyway, I came at once. I’ve been here for a week because I’ve suspected Heyden of Henry’s murder all along, and I was hoping to catch him doing something incriminating. But the first thing I did on arrival in London was talk to your physician, Dr. Harris. He believes you’ll get stronger with time. Someday you may walk again with only a slight limp.”
If only…
“Lady Elosia said you were due in from London today or tomorrow. She didn’t know you were here?”
“No. I kept things to myself. I was staying at the inn where Heyden is. I disguised myself coming and going. I searched his room when he was gone but came up with nothing. I saw him follow you and Wally from the cemetery earlier today. He arrived just after you and Wally, but he concealed himself in the trees. As an afterthought, I don’t think he would have harmed you again. His present obsession was to get you back to South Africa to talk with Jendaya, as he admitted. But at the time I didn’t know that. As soon as he saw Anthony Brewster leave with King’s Knight, Heyden left the trees and came here to the cottage, as bold as you please, pretending he’d just ridden up.”
Evy suddenly sat straighter. “Yes, Lord Brewster, I’d forgotten.” She told him about having seen King’s Knight tied below the attic window in the trees and how Lord Brewster had left the cottage. “Then you saw him, too?” she said.
“Only when he rode away.”
“He left the cottage quite stealthily too, and I wondered why. Why didn’t he want me to know he was here?”
Rogan stroked his mustache, regarding her thoughtfully.
“I don’t know, but I think I shall have a talk with Lord Brewster tonight.”
She wondered at the grimness in his voice, as though something bothered him about Lord Brewster. “But he’s been quite kind to me. Remember the gentleman I came across in Grimston Woods when I was a girl? Did I ever tell you about it? It was the day I first met you. The gentleman turned out to be Lord Brewster. He told me so himself.”
Rogan looked at her sharply. “What did he tell you about himself?”
“Not much, actually. He came to visit me in the hospital and arranged for my stay at Chantry Townhouse. As I said, he’s been unexpectedly nice to me recently.”
“Has he?” Something in his voice made her pause and look at him, but he merely watched her, alert. “Did he tell you anything else?”
Rogan must be asking about her inheritance. “He explained that I’m the van Buren heiress through my mother, Katie. But it seems I can’t do much with the inheritance unless I marry. That will make me a prime target for more of Sir Julien’s planning,” she said wryly. She was determined not to do as Julien wanted. “I do have funds for living expenses now, very handsome ones, actually. That reminds me, I can now pay you back the loan you gave me.”
“Evy, I’ve struck gold on the Zambezi. I don’t need anything of yours from the van Buren side of the family. When Heyden went on that hysterical rampage about my wanting the Black Diamond, he was spewing forth the greed of his own heart.”
She smiled. “Rogan, you needn’t tell me that. I know you better than you think. For one thing, you’ve too much pride to want to succeed in life on van Buren diamonds,” she said ruefully. “Besides, Rookswood will be yours—and the gold you’ve discovered. I didn’t believe what Heyden said about you.”
He stood and offered a bow. “Thank you, Madam. And may it be known to you that I will endeavor to win more of your confidence and trust.”
“You’re welcome Sir Rogan,” she said primly.
She told him how Heyden claimed she had other van Buren relatives in the Transvaal, and about Dr. Jakob van Buren and his mission station near the Zambezi. “You said you spoke with him.”
“I did. Julien first told me about him, and about Heyden’s visit there with Jendaya. When our pioneer expedition arrived at Fort Salisbury—now it’s usually called Rhodesia—I went to look up Dr. Jakob. He’s a good man, Evy. You’ll like him. He’s eager to meet you. He gave me information on Heyden and Jendaya that got my suspicions up about Heyden. When I returned from the visit to our gold camp along the Zambezi, there was a letter waiting for me from Capetown, from Lady Camilla Brewster. She informed me of your accident. I came as soon as I could.”
“Oh, Rogan…”
He squeezed her hands in his. “I’m only sorry I couldn’t have gotten here in time to stop Heyden. But he’ll get justice for what he’s done to you, and to Henry. Can you tell me what happened?”
For the next half hour Evy told him all that had happened since that dark night in October, beginning with her return to the cottage from the village green on Allhallows Eve. She went through every terrifying detail about the attic door flinging open and a darkly garbed figure storming out at her like some winged gargoyle.
“He was covered with a dark blanket.”
Rogan was angry but restrained. “The blanket Wally had? You still have it, I hope?”
“Yes, in my bedroom at the rectory.”
She went on telling him the details of what had attracted Wally’s curiosity enough to mention it to the Hooper twins, and then how the three detectives had returned here to the cottage to search.
“Wally discovered the blanket in the attic still smelling of kerosene, and with charred edges. It’s the same blanket. I recognize it.”
He scowled. “Do you remember seeing Heyden around the village or the rectory when you were younger?”
Evy thought back to those early days. She shook her head. “Not that I can recall.”
“I think I may have.”
That surprised her. He explained.
“On the night Henry was murdered, I was at Rookswood. I don’t recall anything that happened. I must have been dead asleep. But most everyone else in the family had gone to London for the marriage of some relative. I think it may have been a sister or cousin of Lord Brewster. Heyden had opportunity to be in London that night, and it’s a short train ride here to Grimston Way, not more than an hour and a half.”
“He claims he was in Capetown.”
“He can claim anything. After what he’s done to you, I think we both agree he can be ruthless. Thinking back, I believe I saw him around the village that afternoon. I can’t prove it. I was young, but I think he was here. It would have been easy enough to hide out in the woods until he could come to Rookswood without being seen. The servants and I were the only ones still in the house. Arcilla was in the nursery asleep with her nanny, old Miss Hortense.”
The idea that Heyden may have been about the village now and then while she grew up gave her a chill. She was beginning to think Rogan was right in his earlier assessment, that Heyden might be a little daft.
“I’m also remembering some things Julien told me in South Africa as well. He told me that when he called on Henry shortly before he was murdered, Henry appeared to be onto something. He’d even made plans to make a trip to South Africa.”
“You think Henry may have suspected Heyden?”
“I’m beginning to think so. Where’s the envelope from Vicar Havering’s desk?”
“Right here.” She reached into her handbag and brought it out, still sealed.
He studied the writing on the outside. “This must be the vicar’s handwriting.”
“It is. Henry’s letter should be inside.”
Rogan opened the envelope and removed a single-page letter from Vicar Edmund Havering, and a second, smaller sealed envelope.
“This is interesting,” Rogan murmured, turning the smaller envelope over in his hand. “It’s from Henry all right, but it’s addressed to me.”
Evy was startled. “To you?” She looked at the envelope and saw that it was addressed to “Rogan Chantry, Rookswood Estate.” And it was signe
d by Henry Chantry.
“So this is what Heyden was after,” Rogan said, a thin edge of surprise in his voice. “I’d not have guessed anything like this.”
Rogan handed her the single page from Uncle Edmund, while he opened the flap on the small envelope addressed to him from his uncle Henry.
They each read alone, in silence.
The letter from Edmund was not a letter at all, nor was it written to anyone in particular. It read more like a small diary.
As a safeguard, I am taking extra precautions with Mr. Chantry’s letter. I have left it sealed, as it is not for me to know what he has written within. Mr. Chantry and I met alone two weeks ago. He gave me two envelopes. One, he said, was merely a decoy. The important envelope is to be kept for Rogan Chantry when he comes of age. But Henry has suggested to me that a young lad named Heyden van Buren could pose a problem. I was told that he is a cousin of sorts to Evy, but Mr. Chantry feels it best not to involve Evy at this time with the van Burens.
He has asked me to keep the decoy envelope in my files, but not so that it is impossible to find. I have done so. The important letter from Henry to Rogan is to be protected at all costs and turned over to Rogan Chantry on his twentieth birthday. Naturally, I will do so. I feel that I have obliged Mr. Henry Chantry accordingly, as he has ardently requested.
These are strange days, and one never knows what troubles are brewing. It is my desire, as well as Mr. Chantry’s, to see that little Evy is allowed to grow up in Grimston Way with as few burdens as possible.
12 September
I have seen a young stranger in the village recently. I believe he is Heyden van Buren. He came to call on me last night when Grace was at the ladies meeting and Evy was asleep. He is from the Transvaal in Africa, inquiring about a letter that Henry Chantry had left him. He claims Henry wrote to him to come and claim this particular letter upon his death. I knew the lad was lying because the letter is Rogan’s. Why he would know of this letter, I cannot guess. I have decided to put the letter for Rogan in my secret drawer and leave the decoy in my files just in case this fellow breaks into my office.
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