by Anne Herries
‘Would you? Just a hint might be a good thing.’ Her lovely face was clouded by doubt. ‘I am sure that he did push Aunt Hester down the stairs—though he did not dare to mention it.’
‘At least he will not be staying here tonight.’
‘No…’ Arabella turned to look him in the face. ‘Would you and Mr Elworthy accept my hospitality for a few days—just until we go to York? I should feel much safer. If Ralph thought that you and Mr Elworthy were our guests, he would hesitate to try anything underhand. I know my cousin. He is a coward at heart.’
‘Would you truly allow both John and I to stay here?’ Charles gazed down at her, his eyes burning with a hot light. He knew that he was a fool to accept, because it meant that he would be close to temptation, but she had asked and he could not refuse. ‘I should be delighted and I am sure that John would also. He talked of going back to town, but I know that he would prefer to be of use to Sarah. He was always quite fond of her, you see. There was a time when I hoped…but that time has gone.’
‘Please go back to the inn and bring him here,’ Arabella said. ‘You may leave at the same time as Ralph. If you were to hint that we were closer than friends, he might realise that I am no longer unprotected and take himself off—perhaps abroad where he might live more easily on what money he will have once my aunt has sold her house.’ She blushed slightly. ‘It is a great deal to ask, but no one else will hear of it.’
Charles shook his head, not daring to reply on that subject. ‘Lady Tate is to sell her house for his sake?’
‘She thinks it best,’ Arabella said. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that the others were looking through the fashion journals she subscribed to, which had been delivered via the receiving station only that morning. ‘I do not wish my aunt to know this, but I intend to ask my lawyer to buy the house. When Ralph has been persuaded to leave us alone, I shall tell her that she is still at liberty to use it when she wishes. Indeed, we shall all use it when we go up to town. I do not have a town house and I think it is the ideal solution for us all.’
‘You mean that you wish to preserve it for Lady Tate.’ Charles looked at her with warm approval. ‘You are as generous as you are lovely.’
‘It is nothing…’ Arabella moved towards the window and glanced out. ‘I think Ralph is about to leave. His groom is preparing the curricle.’
‘Then I shall take my leave,’ Charles said. ‘John and I will return very shortly.’ He nodded to his mama and Sarah. ‘I shall see you both later. Lady Arabella has been kind enough to ask John and I to stay so that we can all be together.’
Arabella went to join Sarah as he went out. She had been showing Tilda a fetching ensemble that she liked in the monthly journal, and Arabella was pleased to see that Tilda had responded in a friendly manner. She smiled at her and sat down, taking the journal to look at the fashion plate that had captured Sarah’s interest. It was a pretty spotted muslin with short puffed sleeves and a high waist.
‘Yes, that is charming,’ she agreed. ‘I think it would suit you very well, Sarah, my dear.’ She looked at Tilda. ‘Mrs Hunter is to stay here with Aunt Hester. There will be room in the carriage for you, Tilda, should you wish to come with us to York.’
‘Oh…thank you, Arabella. Yes, I should like that.’ She flushed and glanced away as Lady Tate entered the room. ‘Would you like me to ring for tea? I could go down and save Mrs Bristol the trip, if you wish it, Arabella.’
‘Yes, if you would,’ Arabella said, looking at her aunt’s face. Lady Tate looked a little pale, but she was otherwise composed. ‘Ralph has gone, Aunt?’
‘Yes. He did not wish to stay as he is returning to town at once—at least that is what he says…’
‘I am sure he will, Aunt. I should tell you that I have invited Mr Hunter and Mr Elworthy to join us here. They will stay for a few days—until we leave for York.’
‘Ah, that was a sensible idea,’ Lady Tate said and looked relieved. ‘How nice that will be for everyone.’
‘You are so kind,’ Mrs Hunter said. ‘I think we shall be for ever in your debt, Lady Arabella.’
‘Not at all,’ Arabella replied. ‘It is a pleasure to me to have your company.’
She walked back to the window, glancing down at the courtyard. Both Charles Hunter and her cousin were standing there; to a casual onlooker it might seem that they were merely passing the time of day, but Arabella saw that her cousin’s manner was defensive and angry. Obviously Charles had kept his promise to issue a warning, though whether it was discreet or not, she could not know.
Ralph climbed into his curricle, taking the reins from his groom. He whipped his horses and went off at a furious pace. He was very angry. She watched until Charles had mounted his horse, setting out at a much more leisurely pace. A little smile touched her mouth. Charles had accepted her invitation to stay. She would see him every day, a mixed pleasure when she was torn between loving him and keeping her distance for fear that he would guess that her feelings were stronger than they ought to be. And yet, if Charles would only allow himself to love her, she thought that they might find happiness together.
Perhaps when he saw her every day he would realise how much he was throwing away.
‘Ah, tea is here,’ Lady Tate announced, breaking her train of thought. ‘Would you like me to pour, Arabella dear?’
‘Yes, please, Aunt,’ Arabella said and turned to face her with a smile that hid her inner turmoil. ‘That would be very nice…’
Chapter Eight
John Elworthy had been taking a walk in the woods that bordered the Long Meadow estate to while away the time. He knew he ought to think of returning to London. He had nothing to do here now, for Sarah was returned to her family and all danger was surely at an end and yet he had lingered. He was not sure of his reasons, for he was hardly needed at this time. It was as he turned to retrace his footsteps to the inn, where he intended to pay his shot and leave a note for Charles, that he heard voices and something made him pause. Surely he knew that laugh? It had a high-pitched titter to it and was most unpleasant. John frowned. What on earth was a dandy like Sir Courtney Welch doing so far from London?
John felt a sliver of ice at the nape of his neck. Sir Courtney was a devil! He had killed two men in duels for slight offences, and there were rumours that he had killed others in a more sinister way. He had sometimes been seen in the gaming hells with Forsythe and Lord Barton, but John did not believe that Sir Courtney had been a member of their cult. He would scorn such rituals, dismissing them as nonsense. He was, in John’s opinion, a far more dangerous man than Forsythe. No, he would not have taken part in rituals, but would have used Forsythe when he needed him, as he used others. John knew perhaps more of him than most might, for a friend of his had disappeared after an argument with Sir Courtney. His body had been found in a ditch on a lonely country road some months later. The general verdict had been robbery, but since his friend had been identified by a gold ring on his finger, John had always wondered if the motive had truly been murder.
Something made him decide to get closer to see what he could hear of this conversation. He caught sight of four men; two of them appeared to be ruffians, but the other two were gentlemen—Sir Courtney and Lady Arabella’s cousin, Sir Ralph Tate. He knew them both by sight, though he avoided their company whenever possible.
John shrank back behind the trunk of an ancient oak tree as Sir Courtney glanced his way, as if sensing something. Yet he could not have seen anything, for he continued to berate his companion in a loud voice.
‘You are a fool, Tate. If you had not bungled your own business, you might have been a guest in that house and the thing would have been easier. We could have taken her while the house slept and none the wiser. As it is, we must take her from the garden in broad daylight.’
‘I still think it would be easier to lay a trap for her when she goes riding. Charles Hunter is made free of the house, damn him! He was acting as if he owned the place. I dare say he has his
eye on her fortune, if the truth be known. We must wait until he is out of the way.’
‘And what do we do in the meantime? Sit around and twiddle our thumbs?’ Sir Courtney’s tone was scathing. ‘I shall deal with Hunter if necessary. I have a little score to settle with that gentleman. It would please me if he did interfere. He would not live to tell the tale. You said yourself that she plans to make her will shortly. We must act soon. I want her and the money.’
‘She’s my cousin,’ Ralph complained in a sulky voice. ‘Why should you have it all? It was my idea to kill her, before she has time to make her will. Mama will inherit then and I can twist her round my finger.’
‘But you came to me for help and you will do as you are told,’ Sir Courtney replied. ‘That proud bitch made me angry once and I have pondered on my revenge. When you came to me I saw that I could have everything. Once she has been in my bed she will beg me to wed her—and then, once my ring is on her finger, she will not survive long.’ He threw a gloating look at the other man. ‘When the money is mine, I may toss you a few crumbs now and then if you please me.’
‘You are a devil, Welch,’ Ralph said bitterly. ‘I wish that I had never told you my idea.’
‘Your idea would have landed you at the end of a hangman’s noose,’ Sir Courtney sneered. ‘Mine is foolproof, for she would never admit what had been done to humble her. She will learn to obey my every whim until I decide I have had enough of her, and that may not be for a while. I like a woman with spirit, the taming is so much sweeter. But please yourself—you either help me and the debt is ended or you write your own death warrant. The choice is yours.’
‘Damn it! I don’t have a choice…’
John had heard enough. He moved away, silently, careful not to make a sound. He would take a different route back to the inn. There was no thought of leaving for London now. He must tell Charles what he had overheard, and they must send immediately for Tobbold. His men had guarded Elizabeth and Lady Cavendish for Daniel, and they would be needed here if Sir Courtney and Tate were to be stopped from carrying out their evil plan.
Quickening his stride, John’s mind was working hard as he thought about what was happening. At least this time, they knew that a kidnap was planned, and they must make sure that the culprits were caught before they could do any harm. A grim smile touched his mouth as he went into the inn and saw Charles inquiring for him of the innkeeper’s wife.
‘Well met, Charles,’ he said. ‘I have something to tell you—something I think you will find disturbing.’
‘We have been invited to stay up at the Manor,’ Charles said. ‘Let us go up and pack our things at once. You may tell me your news and I shall tell you mine.’
Everyone had gone up to get ready for the evening. Tilda had not spent long changing her gown, for she was desperate to find something that she might do to please Arabella. She had hit upon the idea of bringing her some wild roses. She knew that they were Arabella’s favourite flowers, but those in the garden had finished flowering. She had noticed that there were still a few in the wood at the far end of the garden and it would be worth the walk to pick a small posy and place it by Arabella’s plate at dinner that evening. Perhaps she would understand then how very grateful Tilda was for her kindness.
It was only when she got downstairs that Tilda realised she would need a shawl. She seldom borrowed one from the hall cabinet, for they were Arabella’s and she did not like to use them without permission, as they were heavy silk and good quality. However, it would waste time to go back for her own shawl and she was sure no one would notice. She would be back at the house before anyone else had come down for dinner.
Selecting a heavy red silk, Tilda slipped it around her shoulders and went out quickly. She would need to walk quite fast or she would keep everyone waiting for their meal and that would never do. Arabella would be cross then, and she did so want to please her. She was smiling to herself as she walked through the shrubbery towards the wood. Ten thousand pounds was such a lot of money. She could have her own cottage if she chose…or she might even travel. She had heard that it was very cheap to live in countries like Spain and Italy, and she had always wanted to see some of those exotic places she had only read of in books.
Walking with her head down, thinking only of Arabella’s pleasure when she saw her flowers, Tilda was quite unaware that anyone was lurking behind her; when a heavy blanket was suddenly thrown over her head from the rear, she gave a little shriek of fear.
‘Be quiet, girl,’ a man’s gruff voice spoke close to her head, making her moan in terror. ‘Give me any trouble and you’ll be crows’ meat by mornin’—but if you behave yourself nothing will happen to you. It ain’t you we want, but I was told to bring whichever one of you came out. I dare say as you’ll come in mighty handy for fetchin’ her out where we want her.’ A coarse laugh sent Tilda into a spasm of fright and she began to struggle helplessly as she was picked up and tossed over her captor’s shoulder. As he walked carelessly through the wood towards the gate through which he had come, Tilda’s head was banged against the heavy branch of a spreading oak and the blow rendered her unconscious.
‘Isn’t it nice to have gentlemen staying in the house?’ Lady Tate said as they gathered for a glass of sherry before dinner. ‘I am so glad you could come, Mr Elworthy. One gentleman would hardly be enough with all these ladies.’ She glanced around the room. They were all gathered except for Tilda, which was a nuisance because Mrs Bristol had just come to announce dinner. ‘Where is Tilda, Arabella? It isn’t like her to be late for meals.’
‘No, she is usually down before the rest of us,’ Arabella said and looked at her housekeeper. ‘Have you seen Tilda this evening?’
‘I believe she went out for a walk earlier,’ Mrs Bristol said. ‘She was wearing your red silk shawl, ma’am, and she set off through the wild garden—heading for the woods. At least I think it was her, though at first I thought it might be Miss Hunter, but then she came downstairs with you.’
‘What on earth is Tilda doing going for a walk at this hour?’ Arabella said. She felt a flicker of irritation. She had believed that Tilda had accepted the situation and was settled in her own mind, but this was outside of enough. If she was trying to upset Arabella’s plans for the evening, she would be disappointed. ‘We shall not wait for her, Mrs Bristol. She may join us when she comes back.’ She stood up, smiling at her guests. ‘I think we should go in, everyone. Cook will not be pleased if we keep her waiting.’
‘Good cooks are so hard to come by,’ John Elworthy said. ‘Lady Cavendish—the dowager, you know—lives in terror of losing hers.’
‘Oh, I understand how she feels,’ Lady Tate agreed, taking his arm. ‘I have suffered badly in the past, but Arabella has an excellent cook here.’
Charles had offered his arm to his mother, Sarah and Arabella walked in behind the others, talking of Lord Byron’s work. Sarah had been reading a copy of Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage that she had discovered in Arabella’s library.
‘Oh, I do love poetry,’ Sarah said, smiling at her friend. ‘But I think that Colonel Lovelace wrote some of the most romantic poetry to his lady during the Civil War, don’t you?’
Arabella looked at her oddly. ‘And where did you read Lovelace, Sarah? I do not believe that I have more than one copy and that is always beside my bed.’
‘I read his poems long ago, at home. Mama is very fond of him too.’ Sarah stared at her, her eyes opening wide with surprise. ‘How did I know that, Arabella? I am sure she has not mentioned anything of that nature to me since she has been here.’ She was a little startled at herself for having come out with such a statement—it was the first time she had ever referred to anything from the past as if it were natural to her.
Arabella gave her arm a little squeeze. ‘I think it is as I hoped, my love. Now that your mama and brother are with you, you may begin to remember things. Not everything at once, and perhaps not the things you would most wish to remember—but silly little
things like poetry.’
Sarah nodded, her expression serious. ‘Do not tell anyone yet, Arabella. If Mama knows that I have begun to remember she will expect me to know her, and I do not. I feel that I like her very much, and I am not afraid of either Charles or Mr Elworthy now. Indeed, I feel happy that they are here—but I do not remember anything, other than that I liked Colonel Lovelace’s poems.’
‘I shall say nothing, Sarah. When you are ready, you will wish to tell your mama what you remember. However, if she keeps telling you things about your home and the way you were, it is bound to help you feel comfortable—even if you cannot truly remember.’
‘Yes, I am already feeling better since she came,’ Sarah said. ‘But I also feel guilty because I have caused her and my brother so much suffering.’
‘You must not,’ Arabella told her. ‘It truly was not your fault.’
‘I keep thinking that I must have done something. I must have made someone angry. Why else would they take me? It could have been anyone—so why me?’
‘I do not know,’ Arabella said. ‘Does it really matter, dearest? You are safe now and I do not imagine that anything like that will ever happen again. We are well protected here—I am sure that my people would notice anything untoward as soon as it happened.’
‘I wonder why Tilda went out,’ Sarah said. ‘She told me earlier that she was feeling hungry. It seems odd that she should not be here for dinner, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes…’ Arabella frowned. ‘I dare say she will come rushing in soon full of apologies, but if she does not come in to dinner I shall go up and speak to her when we retire to the drawing room. It really is most inconsiderate of her to disappear like this!’
Arabella did not begin to worry until after they had finished dinner and she led the ladies to the drawing room, leaving the gentlemen to their port. She suspected that they would not be long in following. She left her aunt to oversee the ordering of the tea tray and went upstairs.