by Dawn Harris
‘Have you been a groomsman before?’
‘No. And it terrifies me.’
I turned to him. ‘You don’t look terrified.’
‘I expect that’s your calming influence.’
I couldn’t help laughing. ‘Are you able to turn everything I say to your advantage?’
‘Oh, it’s not just you, ma’am. I’m the same in the company of any beautiful woman.’
Foolishly I fell straight into the trap. ‘I’m not beautiful.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Fishing for compliments, ma’am?’
I choked. ‘Don’t be so absurd. Lucie is beautiful. I am merely passable.’
‘Hmm. Let’s see, shall we.’ He stopped and studied my face carefully. ‘Expressive eyes, straight nose, good complexion, a very kissable mouth and------’
‘That will do,’ I said firmly.
He turned his palms upwards in a helpless gesture. ‘I was only trying to be truthful.’ But his eyes were dancing. ‘I think I would describe you as attractive, possibly even adorable-----’
‘Mr Reevers, this has gone far enough.’
He ran a hand round his chin. ‘Yes, you’re right. Adorable isn’t the right word. Now let me think-----’
‘Will you please be sensible.’
‘If you insist.’ And before I knew what he was about, he lifted my left hand to his lips and kissed the tips of my fingers one by one.
Pulling my hand away, I demanded, ‘H-how – how is that being sensible?’
He looked at me with those bright intelligent eyes and murmured, ‘You are forgetting I said you had a very kissable mouth.’
By now I was feeling decidedly breathless. ‘You will stop this nonsense now, sir.’
He grinned at me. ‘If that is your wish. Personally I found it most agreeable. You see, you were looking so despondent, I thought you needed cheering up.’ I opened my mouth twice without saying a word, and he laughed. ‘You’re not usually stuck for words.’
‘Do you ever mean anything you say?’
‘I always mean exactly what I say.’ He moved so close I could feel the warmth of his body, and he said in a caressing voice, ‘What’s troubling you, my dear? I wish you would tell me.‘
CHAPTER THIRTYTHREE
He was watching me intently, but the lump in my throat made speaking impossible. I dared not trust him, no matter how much I wanted to. As if he’d read my thoughts, he said, ‘I am very trustworthy, I promise you. Ask Giles.’
I thought of the facts on my charts in the workroom. His lack of money, how he saved me after the cliff fall, and the incident when Leatherbarrow was attacked. ‘You’re quite mistaken,’ I said, ‘there’s nothing bothering me. Apart from the fact the wedding is this Saturday and there’s still a great deal to be done.’
Last time we met he had been very concerned for my safety, but he hadn’t even mentioned it this time, and I wished I knew why.
That night the strong south westerly winds that had blown across the Island for several days now, freshened into a ferocious gale, and by morning we were in the thick of it. An outside door slammed shut, trees creaked and groaned, and cold draughts seemed to find their way into every corner of the house. Logs crackled and blazed in the fireplaces, fallen leaves swirled around the garden, and it felt as if winter had come.
The wedding was two days away, and when I came down to breakfast, Jeffel commented, ‘It seems a pity the bad weather couldn’t have waited until next week, doesn’t it, my lady.’
‘It does indeed,’ I agreed with a rueful smile. ‘Still it will probably blow itself out before Saturday.’
I had slept badly, my senses still in turmoil from the events two days earlier. There could be no doubt of the truth now, and at last I saw how it all fitted together. I even understood the purpose of the Gosport man. But as Giles had warned me not to interfere, I tried to behave as if I had finally taken his advice to heart, at least when in his company.
Over a family nuncheon, discussing wedding arrangements, we tried to settle the allocation of rooms for the three couples who were to stay at Westfleet. Two bedchambers were of a good size, the difficult was deciding who should have the third much smaller, north facing room, when all three couples were of similar social standing and age. As it was impossible to please everyone, I suggested the matter should be settled by the turn of a card.
Aunt Thirza was outraged, but my uncle quickly cut short her protests. ‘Drusilla is right, my dear. That will resolve the difficulty without upsetting anyone.’
Still bristling, my aunt declared that if his mind was made up, there was nothing more to be said, but if their friends were shocked at such cavalier treatment, it would be no fault of hers.
My uncle’s eyes twinkled merrily. ‘I will tell them you refused to be associated with so ridiculous a scheme.’
They were travelling down from London together and crossing to Cowes today. My uncle had procured rooms in the best inn and having arranged to escort them to Westfleet tomorrow, he soon set off for Cowes on horseback, accompanied by his valet. The chaise, which was to convey the ladies and their maids to Westfleet, had left earlier in the charge of two reliable grooms. The men and their valets would travel on horseback, extra horses having been hired in Cowes.
Now my uncle had gone, I’d hoped to avoid further discussions about the arrangements, as I had my own plans to make. Plans I had not mentioned to my uncle, for if I had, he would have refused to leave the house.
But my aunt, naturally unaware of what was going on in my mind, insisted I inspect every guest bedchamber for myself. In the course of which she managed to find either a window with a smear on it, a speck of dust under a bed, or draughts she was certain would send smoke down the chimney to choke her friends. She demanded to know what I meant to do about the gardens, the gale having undone much of the gardeners’ previous efforts. And had I realised the carriage that was to convey Lucie and my uncle to the church, needed a coat of paint?
It was well into the afternoon before I finally escaped, and only then on the pretext of speaking to Mudd about the carriage. Putting on a warm pelisse, I went to look at the carriage for myself, and as I’d expected, found nothing wrong with the paintwork. Knowing perfectly well that Mudd would ensure there wasn’t a speck of dirt to be seen on the day of the wedding, I left it in his hands, casually mentioning to him that I meant to walk up the hill at the back of the orchard. By now the gale had moderated somewhat, but in any case, I had always loved the feel of the wind on my face.
I strolled down to the walled garden first, past lawns and flower beds strewn with leaves, which the gardener’s boys were collecting, restoring some semblance of order. The walled garden, stripped of its summer colours, looked rather bleak, and leaving by the north gate, I walked up through the long border, past the greenhouse and through the orchard. The gale had brought down most of the remaining apples, and these still lay on the ground, for so many other things needed attention they hadn’t been collected yet. I strode on, climbing up the hillside to the point where I could see the whole of Westfleet and the gardens laid out below me.
There was no better place to see how beautifully positioned the Manor was, nestling at the foot of the Downs, sheltered from northerly winds. A thick shrubbery bordered my land to the left of the orchard, on the far side of which was a wood; to the right, lay Westfleet village, with its cluster of cottages around the green, and the church nearby. Beyond that was the sea.
Many people had lived at Westfleet before me, and I wondered if they had come up here too when they needed to think. Had they loved this view? Had they adored my beautiful manor house as much as I did? Giles, of course, loved Ledstone Place in the same way. It had always been his home, but now, with Cuthbert, Thomas and Tom all dead, he had the riches and consequence that went with it. And after his wedding on Saturday he would have everything he had ever wanted. But I knew Giles could not be allowed to marry.
For an arrest to be made, there had to be proof of gu
ilt. What I’d overheard Giles say to Jacob would not, on its own, convince a court of law. And although that small detail on my charts might be proof to me, I saw how easily it could be made to look trivial and unimportant.
Like Mr Arnold I believed no man was above the law; thus my personal feelings, the sadness, the sheer disbelief, had to be ignored. I could see only one opportunity to obtain evidence that no-one could dispute, a plan that required Mr Arnold’s co-operation, and one that made me acutely uneasy, for so much could go wrong. And if I failed, I would not get another chance.
The afternoon light was fading fast now, and heaving a long sigh, I stood up and brushed a leaf off the skirt of my pelisse before heading back towards the house. I had just reached the orchard when a pistol shot rang out, and a bullet smacked into a tree no more than twelve inches from my head. Instinctively I threw myself on the ground, but I wasn’t quite quick enough, and a second shot just grazed my forehead. I felt a searing pain, and as I hit the ground, blood trickled down my face onto the grass beside me. Guessing the shots had come from the shrubbery running along the edge of my land at the far side of the orchard, I did what seemed most sensible. I scrambled behind the nearest tree on my hands and knees.
I was too far from the house to make a run for it. If I tried, I would be hampered by my skirts, and my assailant would by now have reloaded his pistols. This time I was quite sure I would not be so lucky. For I knew him to be an excellent shot. If I had been a fraction slower in throwing myself on the ground, I would already be dead.
After the cliff fall incident, I had promised my aunt I would not ride anywhere alone, and apart from the occasional mile long daylight outing to see Julia, I had kept my word. Since then too, Mudd and I had both carried a pistol. My mistake had been to assume I was safe in the grounds of my own home. For I had stupidly left my pistol in my bedchamber.
The only protection I had now was the none too thick trunk of this apple tree, and slowly rising to my feet behind it, I leant against it, shaking uncontrollably, convinced my last moments had come.
In the fast gathering gloom, I heard the swish of his boots as he ran through the damp grass. When he stopped, he was so close I could actually hear him breathing, and I froze with fright. Then came the unmistakable sound of a pistol being cocked.
All at once, anger swept away fear. I wasn’t just going to let this thing happen, like some rabbit caught in a trap. I looked around for something, anything to defend myself with, but there was nothing except the apples brought down by the gale.
In one swift movement, I bent down, grabbed an apple and threw it across the orchard as far as I could to distract his attention. When he swung round to see what had caused the disturbance, I quickly scooped up several apples, and stepping out from behind my tree, hurled one at him with all my might, striking him on the head. In the twilight I could not make out his features, and that made it easier. He let out a cry of anguish, put a hand over his face and reeled backwards, whereupon I quickly threw another apple, and another. He ducked the last one and steadied himself, but before he could fire at me again, I leapt back behind the tree.
I knew I wouldn’t catch him by surprise again, which left me no choice but to run. Better that than waiting for him to come up and put a pistol to my head. He started to close in on me and I lifted my skirts a trifle, ready to run, when I heard a horse galloping towards the orchard. My assailant heard it too, and as he wheeled round, I ran towards the house as fast as I could, trying to keep trees between us. Hearing a pistol shot, I flinched instinctively, and hurled myself to the ground again. A few moments later I heard Mudd’s anxious voice calling out to me, and I gave way to a sob of relief.
As I told him, I had never been so glad to see anyone in my whole life. Mudd escorted me safely back to the courtyard, where he explained that, having heard that first shot, and knowing I’d gone up to the hill, he’d thrown himself onto the nearest horse. Riding bareback, he’d galloped past the side of the house, across the south lawn, jumped a wall into the bottom end of the orchard, and seeing a figure cutting stealthily through the trees, had fired at him.
‘He turned and ran through the shrubbery before I could reach him. I lost sight of him then and -----’
‘Did you recognise him?’
He shook his head. ‘It was too dark. All I saw was a shadowy figure.’ And added apologetically, aware of how everything was meant to be just so for the wedding, ‘I’m afraid I’ve cut up the south lawn, my lady. But I didn’t think of that at the time.’
I laughed shakily. ‘I’m very thankful you didn’t, John. Frankly, I thought my last hour had come. At least you had the sense to keep your pistol on you. I was foolish enough to think I was safe at Westfleet.’
Everyone from my aunt down to Jeffel made a great fuss when they saw my face and learnt what had happened, but I refused to call the doctor for a mere graze, and my aunt cleaned it up for me.
‘Who was it, Drusilla?’ she demanded, a tremble in her voice. ‘You must have seen him.’
I shook my head. ‘He was in the shrubbery, Aunt.’
‘No, but when he came out into the open----’
‘It was too dark then.’
She looked at me, pale and drawn with worry. ‘I think you know more than you are saying. You have a good deal of courage, but —’
‘On the contrary, I was terrified.’
‘Yes, well, it’s not to be wondered at.’ Still greatly troubled, she went on, ‘What is it that you’re not telling us, Drusilla? First, two men tried to rob you when you were caught out in the mist, then there was that cliff fall business at Hokewell Bay, which I always thought odd. And now this.’
I shook my head at her, and Lucie who had been sitting by the fire listening, cut in gently, ‘Mama, I think Drusilla needs to rest for a while. We can talk about it later.’ And she asked if I would prefer a tray to be brought to my bedchamber rather than join them for dinner.
But having been alone out in the orchard for what had seemed a lifetime, it was the last thing I wanted now, and I declined. ‘Frankly, I’m so thankful to be alive, I cannot bear to let either of you out of my sight. As for dinner, well to tell the truth, I am quite extraordinarily hungry.’ And I knew that doing something as ordinary as changing for dinner would help to restore me to some semblance of normality.
I had never given much thought as to how I would react if my life was seriously threatened. I suppose, like most people, I hoped I’d acquit myself creditably. In fact, I had been reduced to a quivering wreck when those two smugglers dragged me to the edge of the cliff, unaware their object had been merely to frighten me.
But the two attacks since then were meant to kill me. At Hokewell Bay I had been lucky to escape; I had also been more scared than I imagined it was possible to be. I thought afterwards, that if I ever had to face another attempt on my life, my earlier experience would serve to lessen the terror. Regrettably that had not been the case. Instead, I’d scuttled behind the nearest tree, quaking in every limb. In the end, two things had saved me. My own anger; and Mudd’s bravery. Anger had given me strength and resolve. Pelting him with apples had stopped him shooting at me for a few precious moments. But the truth was, he would have prevailed if it hadn’t been for Mudd. It was Mudd who had shown great courage, risking his own life to save mine. It was a sobering thought.
By the time we all retired for the night, the calmer weather of the afternoon had gone. The wind had got up again, and that night, as I lay awake listening to the rattling of the leaded windows, I doubted that even the local smugglers would try to bring a boat ashore in such conditions. And that meant Mr Arnold could safely relax.
But when that gentleman called the following morning, far from being relaxed, he seemed decidedly agitated. I received him in the library, where he bowed and said, ‘Lady Drusilla, I trust I’m not disturbing you—’
As Jeffel closed the door, I assured him, ‘Not in the least.’
Taking a seat opposite me, he spoke in an
xious concern, ‘I was never more shocked than when I heard what had happened to you yesterday. And in your own grounds too. I had to see for myself that you were not injured.’
I smiled. ‘I am quite recovered, and have only a graze to show for my adventure.’
‘Adventure?’ he echoed, shocked. ‘My dear ma’am------’
‘Yes. Well, I don’t admitting to you, that it was a most alarming experience.’
‘I should just think it was. Did you see your assailant, ma’am?’
‘No. It was too dark, I’m afraid.’
He leaned back in his chair, running a hand across his forehead in a weary fashion. ‘What is to be done, ma’am? The wedding is tomorrow---------’
‘I am certain Giles will leave the house tonight on some pretext, and -----------’
‘What if he doesn’t, ma’am?’
‘He will leave, Mr Arnold, believe me. Nothing in this awful business has been left to chance. And when he does, Mudd and I will follow him. What happens after that will, I believe, provide evidence the courts will accept without question.’
Still highly distressed, he shook his head. ‘It will shock a great many people when it becomes known. But my duty is clear, ma’am. My men already have their orders, and I have impressed on them the seriousness of the situation, although naturally I haven’t told them what’s at stake. Everything that can be done, will be done.’
We spoke further on the subject, the many uncertainties of the situation being the greatest worry. In fact, I was confident of only two things. That Giles would leave Ledstone sometime after dark. And I would follow him. But, as I was soon to learn, it is never wise to be too sure of anything.
CHAPTER THIRTYFOUR
Mr Arnold stood up to take his leave. ‘I imagine you will have little time for going out today, ma’am.’
‘I think it most unlikely. We have several wedding guests arriving later.’