“What went wrong this time?” asked Simon Brady. “Why did Markham get so careless?”
“He was getting desperate for the manuscript,” said Jim. “According to Barbara Conrad the buyers were threatening to pull out and Markham was running short of money. So when Millie told him she had it, he believed she would hand it over quite readily, trusting him to do the right thing. I must say he was surprisingly careless.”
“That’s because he underestimated me,” said Millie. “Many people do.”
“I’m sure that’s not true, dear girl,” said Henry Fazeby, kindly.
“The important thing, Millie,” said Jim, sounding impatient, “is that your father is innocent. Barbara Conrad has given us the evidence we need to prove that. Believe it or not, despite everything, I think she actually likes you. She said that one of the best things about it being all over was that you’d know for sure your father was innocent.”
“I’ve always known that,” said Millie, her voice catching in her throat. “Only it’s too late now, isn’t it?” She wanted to leave the room, but it came to her with a startling and painful realisation that she had nowhere to go. She was no longer a staying guest at the Fazeby’s, so could not run to the room they had given to her the first time, and she had no other home to which she could run. If only she could think straight, she would know what to do. But the revelations had shaken her to the core. How could the man whom her father had called his best friend have sent Richard Woodridge to the gallows? Millie had trusted him too, until the truth of the note on the back of the manuscript had taught her otherwise. How could she ever trust her instincts about people again?
“Well of course, I’ve always known dear Richard was innocent,” said Mrs Oakengate. “And given the events, Millie, I am quite willing to forgive you for your gallivanting and take you back as my companion.”
“I’m very grateful, Mrs Oakengate,” said Millie, “but I have decided that I’m not cut out to be a paid companion. Well, I’m not cut out to be your paid companion.”
“Really,” said Mrs Oakengate. “Well, what do you think of that, Cynthia? I give the girl my charity and this is how she repays me.”
“Perhaps Millie would prefer friendship and equality to charity,” said Cynthia Fazeby.
“Millie,” said Hortense, sounding shy, “I’m going to be running Arthur’s businesses from now on. That probably means a lot of old men in suits will bully me. Is it possible, if you’ve got nothing else planned, that you could work for me? As a personal assistant? You’re much braver than I am. And don’t worry about not knowing anything about the business. Neither do I, but we could learn together.”
Millie looked up in amazement. “Yes, yes, of course. That would be wonderful. Thank you. But you really mustn’t put yourself down, Hortense. It took a lot of courage to do what you did.”
“Hear hear,” said Simon Brady.
“Hear hear,” said Jim Haxby, with rather less enthusiasm.
Chapter Eleven
“Millie?”
She turned from her contemplation of the Fazeby Hall gardens. It was getting dark and drizzling with rain outside, but her bedroom was warm and cosy. When she had made to leave the house – to go she knew not where - Cynthia Fazeby had insisted she stay as a guest in her own right. As soon as she could do so without being ill-mannered, she went to her room to escape Mrs Oakengate’s fury. Odd, she thought to herself that she could stand up to her godfather, yet facing Mrs Oakengate still filled her with abject terror. She had to remind herself who was the most deadly of the two, but in truth, she was not so sure. “What is it, Mr Haxby?”
Jim paused a moment, and she sensed her sudden return to formality had perplexed him. It felt safer for her to think of him in formal terms, protecting her heart from further pain. “I just wanted to say what a wonderful thing you did today. It was very resourceful of you. I’d never have thought of that.”
She searched his face for signs that he was patronising her, but he seemed to be speaking honestly. “If you knew the conversation I had to endure with the vacuum cleaner salesmen just to get his brochures, you’d be saying I deserved a medal.” She smiled mischievously. “I know more about their inner workings than I ever wanted to.”
“Believe me, I’ve met a few salesmen on my travels. I’ll write to the king and demand you get a Victoria Cross.” He smiled, and the icy barrier she had put around her heart melted. They were right back where they began, with no awkwardness between them. It lifted an immense weight from Millie’s shoulders. “Look, Millie, all the things I said about you not being an agent. You know, forbidding you and all that …”
Millie held up her hand and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I was being silly.”
“I don’t think it’s at all silly to want to help your country.”
“No, what I meant was … well, it was all tied up in wanting to impress you. Because you’re … well you’re the adventurer, James Haxby. A man one wants to impress. I behaved like a schoolgirl meeting a matinee idol. Then London happened and my emotions got the better of me. About… about you… I know you’ll think me foolish. I mean, the women you work with, they’re so self-assured and ...”
She did not have to say anymore. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “You must know how I feel about you,” he said when he reluctantly stopped. “You don’t have to try to impress me. You’ve impressed me right from the very beginning, my darling Grey Lady. When Markham had that gun to your head…” He took a deep breath, as if the pain of the memory were too much for him. “I never want to see you in that danger again, my darling. And I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I thought you incapable. I knew you were brave the moment I saw you at the top of the stairs. But I didn’t want you to have to be brave. You looked so vulnerable, with those big sad eyes, and I had this immediate need to protect you and keep you from harm. You realise, don’t you, that no other woman on Earth has made me behave like such a caveman.”
“Caveman or not, I love you,” she whispered against his chest, her whole body tingling from his touch and the wonderful things he was saying to her. He kissed her head, her face, her nose, and her lips.
“It would scandalise everyone if I stayed in your room any longer,” he murmured against her throat. He traced kisses around her neck and gently sucked her earlobe, sending a million tiny electric shocks down her spine.
“It would devastate me if you left.”
They lay on the bed together, talking and kissing and caressing far into the night. He promised her that he would go to London the next day to set in motion the clearing of her father’s name. It made her cry again, but he gently wiped the tears away. “One day, I swear you’ll be happy again,” he vowed.
“Believe it or not, I’m happy now,” she said before another tear rolled down her cheek. His lips caught it before it fell to the pillow.
When she awoke in the morning, he had left her side. Although she suspected he had left early to spare her reputation, she still felt the ache of his absence. She assured herself he would return. He had promised, had he not?
Despite her lack of sleep, Millie agreed to go with Hortense and Simon Brady on a trip to The Heights of Abraham, in the hopes that the fresh air would revive her. Well that and the fact that Mrs Oakengate cast dark looks at her all through breakfast, muttering something about ‘needing to have a good talk to some people’.
“Victoria, my dear,” said Henry Fazeby from behind his paper. “There’s a young girl here in need of your patronage. Her father has just been convicted of murdering her mother.”
“Spousal murder is such a common crime,” said Mrs Oakengate.
“The murderer is the youngest son of a duke.”
“Really? Of course, murder among the upper classes is a much more civilised affair. You must give me the details, Henry. I’m sure she can’t turn out worse than my last companion.”
“Cynthia and I rather like her,” said Henry. “Almost part of the family, in fac
t.”
Millie smiled at him, silently blessing him for his kindness.
“I need to face that cliff,” said Hortense, as they put on their coats. “I still have nightmares about it, and I’m hoping that going there will stop them.”
“It’s early days,” said Simon. “You mustn’t force yourself.”
“Simon is right, Hortense,” said Millie. “We don’t have to go there.”
“I do.” Hortense reached out her hand and took Millie’s. “That hill belongs to me, not the person who pushed me off. I intend to go up there and reclaim it.”
“She’s wonderful, isn’t she?” said Simon.
“Yes, she is,” said Millie, understanding why no one had noticed it before. The shadow of Arthur Parker-Trent had lifted, leaving his young wife standing in the sunlight.
Rather than walk, because Hortense still suffered the after-effects of her plummet over the cliffs, they took the cable car.
Hortense looked apprehensive, but remained calm when they reached the Heights and looked out over the view. On such a glorious spring morning it was hard to believe that anything bad could happen to anyone. Hortense was young, beautiful, with the world at her feet and a man who was clearly beginning to adore her. There were few other people around, meaning that the three friends practically had the Heights to themselves.
“I wonder if they’ll ever find Markham,” said Hortense. Millie shivered, and it was as if a cloud past over the sun.
“I don’t think so,” Simon said. “He’ll have found a way to get out of the country.”
“He’s a wicked man. Wicked,” Hortense said. It seemed to help her to talk about it. She had been so resilient that it had not even occurred to Millie that she might have been affected psychologically. Hortense was the sort of person who got on with things, but such people usually hid their fears deep down.
“They make them like that in Derbyshire,” said Simon, when Millie said as much to him. “Though she’s not the only survivor around here.”
“I don’t know that I’m as ready to face my demons,” said Millie, and once again she shivered. There was something in the air, something close. She wished Jim were with them. Not that she could not trust Simon to protect them. But it was not the same.
When Hortense and Simon suggested walking back down to the café, Millie excused herself, saying that she wanted to stay a while longer. She smiled at them as they walked down the hill together, taking their first tentative steps towards what Millie hoped would be a lasting love affair. It was early days for Hortense, but there was no reason why she should not find happiness with Simon.
“Be careful, dearest,” Hortense called back.
Millie waved back then turned and looked out over Derbyshire. She could see why Hortense loved it so.
So much had happened and here she was, right back where it all started only a few days earlier. It seemed like centuries ago. She remembered that first morning, going down the hill with Haxby, and her secret thrill at being his walking partner. She remembered the way he defended her father in the café. How handsome he looked at the Ritz, and the kiss that came afterwards. At his mother’s house, he had treated her with immense tenderness, even though she had made him angry. She even managed to laugh when she remembered him saying, ‘I forbid it’ after she asked about being an agent. Would their time together be a constant battle of wills? Perhaps, but it most certainly would not be dull.
. No man had ever seemed so alive to her, or made her feel so alive. She hoped she was enough for him. His kisses of the night before seemed to say that she was. He had once said that he was not a nice man. She believed that was a lie he told himself, in order to accomplish the difficult work he had to do. He was more than just a nice man. He was a good man. One who was not afraid to fight for what he believed was right. She smiled at the notion that the redoubtable Helen Haxby would allow her son to be anything other.
Whatever else happened, whether they stayed together or not, Millie would never regret the moments she spent in Haxby’s arms.
Behind her, footprints cracked on ground roots. Millie spun around, half hoping it would be Jim. It was not. At first she barely recognised the man who approached her. His clothes were grimy and covered in twigs, as if he had been sleeping in a box all night, his face dirty and unshaven.
“Surprised to see me, Millie?” he asked.
“Uncle Alex!” The familiar term came unbidden, for he had ceased to be the fond godfather of her childhood.
“I’ve waited for this moment,” he said. “There was no chance of getting to you at Fazeby Hall, with your champion in attendance. He soon left didn’t he? You should learn, child, that a man won’t buy the cow if he can have the milk for free.”
Millie wanted to argue but it seemed irrelevant under the circumstances. A man like Markham would never understand such a thing as trust anyway. He lived a life of lies and betrayal and assumed everyone else behaved in the same way. The simple values of the real world were beyond his ken. She almost pitied him for it, but steeled herself against him by remembering what he had done to her father. And she did trust Jim, despite the foolish doubts that she knew only came from loving him so deeply and only just starting to believe he felt the same. She remembered his kisses to fortify herself. “You’ve been watching me.”
“Oh yes.” He reached forward, his hands outstretched like claws. “Like I said, I’ve waited for this moment. As if I, Alexander Markham could be fooled by a stupid little girl.”
“Except I’m not stupid,” said Millie.
“You got lucky,” he said. “If you hadn’t found the inscription of her note you’d never have known. It’s a pity Millie. You could have been my wife.”
“Another for your harem?” Millie laughed humourlessly. Once the initial shock of seeing Alex Markham had abated, Millie began to realise the seriousness of her position. She had her back to the cliff, and he was slowly moving towards her. Only a few feet separated them. She looked around quickly, to see if there were any other walkers, but the only ones nearby were on the hill, too far away to be of any help to her. She thought of screaming, just to get someone’s attention, but she feared that might make things worse.
“You’d have been the only one, Millie.”
“Perhaps,” said Millie, thinking on her feet, “I still could be. No one has seen you. We could go away from here.”
“And the minute you got amongst people, you’d scream at the top of your lungs. You fooled me once, Millie. That won’t happen again. Do you know how much planning it took to achieve the things I did?”
“I think I have an idea how many others paid for your plans.”
“I’m sorry about your father. Truly I am. Richard was my best friend, but they were closing in on me, and I had to think quickly. He was the only other person who had been in the same places as me.”
“What about Barbara Conrad? She might be executed too. Are you sorry about her?”
“She was a damn fool, taking to you the way she did. I should have known better than to trust a woman.”
“She loved you and now she’s going to die for that love.”
“I know, I made sure of that. If I’d had more time with you…”
A faint breeze stirred some nearby bushes, catching Alex’s attention. Millie took the opportunity to run in the opposite direction, along the cliff edge, before trying to make her way down. She was not quick enough. Alex, despite his age and condition, managed to head her off, catching her arms in a vice-like grip.
“Not so quick,” he said, pulling her back up the hill after him, and back towards the cliff edge. “You will pay for what you’ve done to me.”
“I’ve done nothing to you,” said Millie, pulling frantically in the opposite direction. “You’re the one who’s ruined your life, by betraying your friends and loved ones.”
“I’d have succeeded if not for you.” He twisted her wrist, making her cry out in pain. Despite wanting to remain calm, Millie felt tears sting he
r eyes. She had her body turned away from Markham, still trying to get back down the hill. If she let him, he would push her over the cliff, and she did not want to take the chance that there would be a handy ledge to break her fall. For his part, Markham had his full attention on Millie. It was a battle of wills that cut out everything else around them, like they were the only two people in the world.
“No, you’d have failed eventually, with or without my help. Men like you do, because they betray so many people, they find themselves with no friends, no one to turn to.”
“Who have you got now, Millie, eh? Your father is dead, Your stupid friend is too busy with her new love, and Haxby has no doubt gone off to find someone more interesting than some pale-faced little idiot who sits up and begs the moment he asks her to.”
“Far from it,” a familiar voice said. Millie looked up through her tears, and saw Jim standing to the left of Markham, a gun pointed at the older man’s temple. He was also dishevelled, but in a rather more attractive way, his hair tousled on his head. He wore a pair of jodhpurs and a white shirt, open at the neck. “I must say tracking you down hasn’t been that interesting. Only necessary. I knew you’d come after Millie eventually.”
Markham spun around, almost managing to knock the gun out of Jim’s hand. There was a struggle, as each man tried to gain superiority over the other. As they fought, they moved nearer to the cliff edge.
“Jim, darling, no!” screamed Millie, as Markham almost succeeded in pushing him over. But Jim regained his footing, and the upper hand. Instead of trying to push Markham over the cliff, Jim clearly sought to contain him, but Markham was determined not to be taken.
How long they fought was hard to say. To Millie it all seemed to happen slowly, only speeding up when the fight reached its most dangerous, near to the edge of the cliff. She wanted to help, to stop Jim being hurt, so a few times she rushed forward, to try and drag Markham off. He, in turn, swatted her as if she were a fly, throwing her to the ground, and almost sending her over the cliff. Jim grabbed for her skirt, then her arms, bringing her back from the precipice, and in doing so lost the gun over the edge. When Millie saw Markham about to rush Jim, whilst his attention was taken in helping her, she was able to stick her foot out. Markham lurched forward, and hurtled over the edge of the cliff.
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