Comes The Dawn (The Wonderland Series: Book 5)

by Irina Shapiro

  Archie shook his head. “Reverend Snow knew Lord Everly quite well, and doesn’t truly believe that he would be capable of taking his own life, no matter the circumstances, but unless there is some proof that he was murdered, the body must be buried at a crossroads. You, as his wife, may put a marker on the grave in due time.”

  I nodded in understanding. I suppose that was the best we could hope for. At least there would be a clue for future generations, a tangible reminder of a man who’d lived and died violently. I wasn’t at all sure how the gravestone appeared in the cemetery, but for the time being, that wasn’t really important. Somehow it came to be there, so I would just let history take its course. “I suppose we’ll just have to accept that,” I replied. “When can Max be buried?”

  “Tonight at midnight,” Archie replied as he eyed Max with distaste. “I am to deliver the coffin to the gravediggers who will be waiting at the crossroads. There are to be no mourners.” I nodded miserably, mentally asking Max for forgiveness. He didn’t deserve this; no one did.

  “There’s something else, Neve.”

  “What more could there be?” I asked warily. It was only three in the afternoon, but I felt completely drained. Hours of sewing gave me a terrible headache, and the strain of the past few days left my nerves thrumming like guitar strings.

  “There are two men from the village who’ve been engaged to watch the manor house to make sure you don’t make your escape before the trial. Mark Watson let it slip to Reverend Snow that he thinks you might try to get away tonight. They will take turns watching the house, one person from that copse of trees behind the house, and one from the churchyard. Should you try to leave, they will raise the alarm. Hugo was able to avoid detection, but the whole village will be up in arms if they see you leaving with the children the night before the trial.”

  “I see. What do you propose, Archie?”

  “A few drops of laudanum will put Watson to sleep for the whole night, and the watchman behind the house will see nothing from his vantage point. I will take care of the man in the churchyard.”

  “Surely you don’t mean to kill him?”

  “No, just knock him out for a short while. That should give you enough time to make your escape. You must leave after dark, and as quietly as possible. All goodbyes should be said before you go. I will see to Max’s burial,” Archie added.

  “Understood.” The thought of saying goodbye to Frances brought tears to my eyes every time, but it would have to be done, and with the minimum amount of fuss. If I’d learned anything from being Lady Everly, was that walls had ears when you dealt with servants. I didn’t expect Ruby, Harriet, Polly, or Cook to betray us, but one honestly never knew. People did inexplicable things in the name of religion, or when motivated by financial gain.

  **

  We had until nightfall to prepare for our departure. Archie had engaged Jem’s services in distracting the graveyard watchman, not so much because he needed his help, but because it would help to get him out of the way. I couldn’t tell Jem the truth, but I did explain to him that we would hide in the crypt until Hugo came to get us, at which point we would make for the coast and take a ship to France. He was crestfallen to know that we were leaving, this time without him, but he understood. He nodded stoically when I told him of our plan, his eyes glued to the floor.

  Frances would make sure that the servants were upstairs when we left the house by the front door. I wasn’t too worried about the grooms, since the stable was behind the house and the front door not clearly visible even should they come outside, which they rarely did after dark.

  Normally, I put the children down for a nap in the afternoon, but I allowed them to play through nap time in the hope that they would be tired by nightfall. I’d prepared a tincture of valerian to put in their milk with supper should they be overexcited, but hoped not to have to use it since valerian root had a terrible smell and bitter taste. The children would make a fuss and most likely refuse to drink the milk. I was cautious of using laudanum on children, but if the situation was dire, I’d add a drop of that instead. Having the children sleep through our escape would be easier, especially once we came out on the other side. They might be frightened by the lights and traffic, and having two hysterical toddlers wouldn’t help our cause.

  The remaining hours flew by with breakneck speed, as time usually does when one is nervous and filled with dread. I barely ate my evening meal, pushing the food around on my plate instead to give the appearance of having eaten. My stomach was in knots, my head pounding with a vicious headache which had only intensified since that afternoon. Thankfully, the children were spent, their little heads drooping like wilted flowers as they ate their own supper before the adults. They were ready for bed, which was a blessing. I would take them upstairs after supper while the servants cleaned up and had their own meal.

  It grew fully dark just after seven in the evening— it was time to put our plan into action. Archie and Jem were already at Horatio’s farm with Hugo, having left directly after supper. I told the children to say goodnight to Ruby as I took them upstairs. They were drowsy, but still bickering between themselves as they normally did at bedtime. I dressed the children in their new clothes and quickly changed myself while they sat on the bed, watching me with suspicion.

  “This gown is strange, Mama,” Valentine complained sleepily as she gazed down at her exposed knees. She was wearing hose, but the hem came to mid-thigh, something unheard of even in clothes for children. Michael seemed pleased with his trousers and shirt, happy to say goodbye to the frilly gown. He stuck his legs out experimentally, smiling at me in wonder.

  “What are you wearing?” Valentine asked indignantly. She was staring at my knee-length dress. “Is that a shift?”

  “No, darling. It’s a type of dress. Don’t you like it?”

  “No. I like a long train,” Valentine said, her attention already on something else. She was yawning widely, so it was time to leave unless I wanted to carry both children all the way down the ridge. As if on cue, I heard a cry from Frances’s room.

  “Ruby, Harriet,” she called out. “Come quick. I’ve overturned the tub.”

  Frances had called for a bath right after supper, and had intentionally spilled the water. It would take all spare hands to clean up the mess before the water seeped between the cracks in the wooden floor and began to drip into the room below. I heard running on the stairs as Ruby, Harriet, and Polly trooped to Frances’s room with rags and buckets. I waited until the servants were occupied before putting cloaks on the children and sneaking down the stairs. Michael was holding his carved wooden horse as he held my hand. Valentine was protesting loudly. Luckily, the door to Frances’s room was closed and the maids were talking between themselves, which drowned out her voice. Frances was already in the foyer, waiting for us. The prone figure of Mark Watson was just behind her, his chin resting on his chest as he snored softly. He’d be asleep for hours yet, so we had no reason to worry that he’d wake up.

  Frances kissed the children, then straightened up quickly, so they wouldn’t see the tears swimming in her eyes. Valentine had finally grown quiet, confused by what was happening. She couldn’t possibly understand, but she sensed that this was an important moment and clung to Frances’s legs like a drowning man to a bit of flotsam. Frances bent down and kissed the top of her curly head. “Be a good girl for your mama,” Frances whispered. “She will need your help.”

  Valentine nodded silently, her eyes huge with worry.

  “I’m sleepy,” Michael whined as he pulled on my hand. “Want to go to bed.”

  “In a few minutes,” I replied absentmindedly. The moment I dreaded had come, and suddenly I wasn’t sure I could say goodbye to Frances without breaking down. Our eyes met over the heads of the children, silent tears streaming down our faces. There was so much to say, but neither one of us could bear to say it. There were moments in life when words were inadequate, and this was one of them. We embraced silently, clinging to eac
h other for a long time. For a quick second, I remembered Frances as she had been when I first met her in the house of Josiah Finch. She had been so slight, so frightened and confused. At least I was able to take comfort in the knowledge that I was leaving her in a better place than I found her. Archie would look after her and keep her safe, and Hugo made sure that they would receive a tidy sum which would help them pursue whatever life they chose.

  “Be safe. Be happy. Remember us,” Frances whispered.

  “You too, Franny. You will be forever in my thoughts. I love you,” I muttered through a sob.

  We finally broke apart, and all too soon, I was out the door, pulling the children along as we made our way down the ridge while Frances went back up to keep an eye on the servants. Thankfully, the children were both silent, their little legs pumping to keep up with my pace. They were tired and cranky, but understood that something momentous was happening, and for once went along without the usual noisy complaints. The church loomed up ahead, its dark shape barely visible against the sky. Several candles would be lit inside, but the light seeping through the windows couldn’t be seen from my vantage point. I hoped that Archie and Jem had already dispatched the watchman.

  “Where are we going?” Valentine finally asked. She was slowing down, intimidated by the darkness and sounds of the night. She was never out after dark, and looked around fearfully, squeezing my hand with all her might. Michael just trudged along, indifferent to our destination. He was sleepy and kept tripping over his feet. I swung him up into my arms and continued on down the hill, the leather purse full of jewelry in my cloak pocket banging against my leg.

  “I want to go home, Mama,” Valentine whispered. “I’m scared.”

  “We’re going to meet Archie. He’s waiting for us by the church.”

  “Why? What’s Archie doing in the graveyard?” Valentine squeaked.

  “Hiding.” I said the first thing that came to mind, but Valentine instantly perked up.

  “Is this a game?”

  “Yes, and you must be very quiet.”

  “I will.” She put a finger to her lips, suddenly a little more alert. Michael was already asleep, his head resting on my shoulder. He was heavy, and my back ached with the strain of carrying him as I made my way down the hill.

  I peered into the darkness. The crescent moon silvered the gravestones in the cemetery, but I could see no human figures. All was silent and eerie. I instinctively slowed down, worried that something had gone awry. A dark shape suddenly peeled itself from the wall and came toward me, the face indistinguishable in the shadows.

  Valentine gasped with fear, but Hugo swung her into his arms and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s only me, sweetheart.”

  “Papa,” she breathed happily as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m wearing a strange gown,” she whispered.

  “I’m sure it’s very pretty. Mama made it just for you.” Valentine didn’t respond. She was already half-asleep.

  We walked beneath the arch and entered the silent graveyard. I finally spotted Archie and Jem, standing beneath a yew tree. One of the men from the village sat leaning against the thick trunk, his head tilted to the side, his eyes closed. His chest was rising and falling as he slumbered.

  I tried not to cry as I hugged Jem. He was as tall as I was, and our eyes met over Michael’s head. I expected Jem to look sad, but what I saw in his eyes was anger. I suppose he felt that we were deserting him, which was justified, but he was no longer our responsibility. He had a family of his own, and there was no way we could have taken him with us. Jem didn’t say anything, just hugged me loosely and stepped aside. Archie came next. His arms felt strong around me, and I momentarily rested my head on his shoulder, afraid that I would break down. He held me away from him, his blue eyes dark in his face.

  “God keep you,” Archie said huskily. He looked as if he were about to cry, or maybe it was just the effect of the moonlight shining through the furry branches of the tree.

  I watched as Hugo shook Jem’s hand. “Thank you for your help tonight, Jemmy. You’ve grown into a fine young man. I will miss you.” I expected Hugo to hug Jem, but he didn’t, treating him like a man rather than a child. Jem stepped aside, giving Archie his turn. The two men just gazed at each other, a world of words in their eyes. I knew they wouldn’t get sentimental, and was surprised when Archie put his arms around Hugo and Valentine. He kissed Valentine’s forehead tenderly, then clapped Hugo on the back as he pulled away.

  “If you change your mind…,” Hugo began.

  Archie shook his head. “Go with God,” he said instead.

  “Keep Frances safe.”

  “You know I will,” Archie replied as he turned to Jem. “Let’s go, Jem,” Archie barked. Jem threw a last look in our direction as he trudged after Archie, sullen as ever.

  Chapter 25

  We entered the church. The building was absolutely silent, as if the very stones were holding their breath. Two large candles flickered lazily next to the altar, casting just enough light for us to see by. As we made our way down to the crypt, I was suddenly overcome with trepidation. What if the passage no longer worked? What if we wound up in a different place and time? What if we went backward instead of forward? I had no reason to think that we would, but who knew? Anything was possible. Who was to say that the passage opened up only between this time and the twenty-first century, and how were we to be sure if time flowed the same way in both places? What if we went back to a time when Max was still in residence, or what if we overshot the mark and wound up in 2020 or even later? My heart raced as these questions overwhelmed me.

  My breath came in ragged gasps as I felt my way down the darkened stairs. I suddenly felt an irrational panic, probably because I knew there was no way back. If the passage didn’t work, we couldn’t return to our seventeenth-century life. Max, who was believed to be Lord Hugo Everly, would be buried in a few hours, his funeral followed by my witch trial. We only had a few hours to make our escape before our disappearance was noted. Mark Watson wouldn’t stay asleep forever, and the man in the cemetery would be coming around soon. We had enough money to flee the country and settle somewhere else, but Hugo would be a ghost, a nonentity, and the accusation of witchcraft would prevent me from returning to England anytime in the near future. How had this happened to us? How did we end up in such peril?

  Hugo turned and laid his hand on my arm. “Have faith,” he said quietly. “All will be well.” His voice seemed to echo in the empty crypt, giving the illusion of more than one person speaking. It was as if a chorus of whispers was assuring me that my fears were unfounded, but I still needed convincing.

  “How can you be so sure?” I hissed, suddenly terrified as we stopped in front of Bruce the Knight’s tomb and the entrance to the passage.

  “I’m not sure, but we’ve survived worse. We are alive, healthy, and have our children and money to live on. Whatever happens, we will land on our feet.”

  I nodded, absorbing the wisdom of Hugo’s words. He was right, of course. Even if we wound up too far in the future or went back in time, we were together, and we had enough funds to keep us afloat for a while. We would figure things out, and make the situation work for us.

  “Ready?” Hugo asked as he shifted Valentine in his arms to free his hand.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  I found myself holding my breath as Hugo pressed the knob in the center of the six-petalled flower. The panel opened, revealing the narrow passage. It smelled just as it had before, of mustiness and dry dust. A cool draft seemed to creep out of the passage, like the dank breath of a hidden cave. I glanced at the children who were deeply asleep in our arms and followed Hugo into the void.

  Present Day

  Surrey, England

  Chapter 26

  Hugo and I stepped into the crypt as the panel slid shut behind us. Several dim bulbs burned, illuminating the stone undercroft. I looked around in confusion at the ladders and buckets propped up against the opposite wa
ll. Tools were scattered on the floor, sloppily left behind by the workers who were probably eager to get home at the end of the day. The far end of the crypt looked as if it was under construction, the mortar between the large rectangular stones fresh and still damp. The carvings snaking around the walls appeared to be intact, but the wall had definitely been reinforced. A border which hadn’t been there before ran around the bottom of the wall, possibly to prevent seepage during heavy rain or snow. Bruce’s tomb was draped with heavy canvas to protect the ancient effigy from possible damage. A Daily Telegraph had been carelessly left lying on the tomb.

  Several empty coffee cups and a wrapper from someone’s lunch had been tossed into a bucket next to the plinth, the smell of coffee making my mouth water with longing. I hadn’t had a proper cup of coffee since leaving France. Hugo reached for the newspaper and looked at the date. He smiled happily and nodded to me in reassurance. We were in the right time. I breathed a sigh of relief as we turned toward the stairs.

  The modern church was lit up like a Christmas tree compared to the dimly lit building we’d just left behind. Electric lights illuminated the nave and shone on the stained glass windows, which looked breathtakingly beautiful after the high narrow windows of the old St. Nicolas which left the interior in gloom even on the brightest days. There was no one about at this time of the evening, and everything was unnaturally quiet, the sound of outside life not able to penetrate the thick walls of the church. Our footsteps echoed on the stone floor as we rushed toward the door.

  “Locked,” Hugo said as he turned toward me. “Let’s try the side door.”

  Thankfully, the door leading into the graveyard wasn’t locked. Someone would need a key to enter from the outside, but the latch opened easily enough from the inside. We stepped outside, breathing in the fragrant April air. I smiled as I inhaled overtones of modern life. There was just a hint of petrol, and the smell of commercial fertilizer which had been used to mulch the flowers in the cemetery quite recently.