Ghosts from the Past (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies)

by Charles, Jane

  “I saw my brother on occasion, but Anton was not with him, of course. Those visits occurred in London on holidays.” Natalie leaned forward and picked up a delicate lemon cake which she sank her teeth into. A moan escaped before she could contain it. These were her favorites. Though most people would not pair them with the rich, burgundy wine, the two together were heavenly, and just what she needed tonight.

  “So, if you haven’t really seen him, when did you meet again and fall in love?”

  She smiled to herself, remembering the night she first saw him. “I was reintroduced to him at a ball.”

  “Did he sweep you off of your feet?” Claudia waggled her eyebrows at which Natalie laughed.

  “No, it took him a year to court me and it was nearly another year before we married.”

  “Then you met him right after you left school.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And your wedding, which neither of us were invited to?” Claudia asked in an accusing tone.

  The smile fell from Natalie’s lips.

  “I am sorry,” Claudia hastened, reaching her hand out to touch Natalie’s arm. “If it is too difficult to talk about, you don’t need to.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “The marriage was rushed. In secret actually.”

  Tess and Claudia shared a surprised look.

  “Anton needed to leave the country soon. I wasn’t sure of everything he was involved in, except I knew he was a spy. I simply thought it was passing information that he had heard. Not that he was the Ghost, wanted with a large reward for his capture.” She took a sip of her wine and let it warm her further. “We married quickly and quietly so I could leave with him.” She toyed with the tassels on the rug. “It was actually lovely and romantic.” She no longer saw the gold and green pattern of the rug, though she stared right at it, her mind was in Sankt Peterburg.

  She rushed down the aisle and smoothed her hair in the process. Anton waited for her in the front pew. She stopped at the end of the row, knelt, crossed herself then slid in to sit beside her fiancé. His handsome face with a strong nose, sculptured cheeks bones, firm jaw and the full lips, always caused her heart to hitch each time she laid eyes on him. Today, his blue eyes crinkled at the corners in unison with his smile. His dimples seemed to wink at her. For once his thick, curly black hair behaved. She knew it wouldn’t last long, but she appreciated the effort he went to put himself to rights.

  “Where were you? I had begun to worry,” Anton said in a hushed voice.

  Natasha clasped his hand. “I am sorry I am late. There were matters to attend to.”

  “It could not have waited?”

  She smiled. Anton worried over much. If anyone should worry, it should be her about him. “No. I wanted to look my best. For you. And tonight, you won’t need to leave me.”

  “I will have to return to my room for my belongings.”

  The smile fell from her face. “But not until much later, or perhaps tomorrow morning?” Hope lingered in her voice.

  Anton leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Trust me. I will not be away from your side for long.”

  Natasha bit her lip and faced forward. She wanted him with her, where he was safe, until they could leave the city.

  “This doesn’t feel right?” Anton whispered.

  “It is what I want.” The moment he had asked her to be his wife Natasha didn’t want to wait another moment to become just that.

  “Your brother should at least be here.”

  “Nobody must know. It is better, if not safer, this way.” In truth, Dimitri would kill her. They both knew Anton intended to leave the country tomorrow, at the latest. It was far too dangerous for him to remain. Dimitri did not want her to be caught up in possible danger. She didn’t care about the risk. She didn’t want to spend another moment away from her beloved, and she couldn’t chance him leaving Russia without her. Natasha only wished Dimitri would flee as well. He, too, was in danger if anyone learned of his activities. Anton was right to leave now, before it was too late. Already there were suspicions.

  She glanced around the Transfiguration Cathedral. The priest should be with them shortly to join them and man and wife. “At least we will be far away when Dimitri learns.”

  “That does not mean he won’t hunt us down,” Anton hissed. “Or at least me.”

  Natasha giggled. “He knows how I feel about you and will be happy for me, eventually.”

  Anton turned and looked deep into her eyes. “But to be married without family or friends...”

  “Shush.” She placed her fingers to his lips. “No one must know what we do tonight.”

  “Natalie, are you still with us?” Tess grabbed her hand.

  She jerked, breaking free of the memory and sniffed. “After the ceremony we returned to my home, as man and wife.” Her face heated, but she hoped her friends thought it was from the fire. She hastily told them everything that led up to her returning and becoming a teacher, leaving out the intimate details..

  Claudia reached forward squeezed her hand. “I am so sorry.”

  Natalie stiffened, shook her head and brought herself back together. “Well, none of that matters now since he is alive and breathing, not bothering to inform me of that fact, but believed I betrayed him.” Oh, the anger felt good. She needed to hold onto it.

  “And, what are you going to do now?”

  A brisk knock at the door altered their attention. “Come,” Natalie called.

  Mrs. Wiggons hustled inside. “The girls are missing.”

  Anton poured a third glass of brandy. What had he done? Why hadn’t he listened to Vanko and simply talked to Natasha? Instead, he kidnapped her from the woods, made love to her, listened to her story, continued to doubt and locked her in a cell.

  She would never forgive him and he couldn’t blame her. She was without blame yet look at what he had done? If he would have stopped for one moment and thought about her goodness, all that they shared, he would have never succumbed to the lies.

  He also would have died in prison. Vanko was right that thoughts of revenge had kept him alive when he could no longer live with what he believed to be her betrayal.

  And, his best friend was dead. Shot and killed, the same night he had been.

  He lifted a glass in toast. “For you, Demetri. I am sorry I ever doubted you and I will make it up to Natasha.” He took a sip. “I hope you are at peace my friend.”

  But, why hadn’t he stopped to think everything over once he was free?

  Further, what purpose did Yuri have in lying to him?

  Anton blinked and tried to focus. He was tired from not having slept much the night before, but he didn’t want to return to the bed upstairs. There were too many memories of how he had spent the night with Natasha. It might very well be the only night he will ever have with her.

  He was a bloody, idiotic fool and he deserved to lose her.

  He should just remain here and drink himself into a stupor. Did it matter? Natasha may be lost to him and it wasn’t worth contemplating tomorrow if he could not have her back.

  Anton reached forward to turn down the lamp when someone began pounding on the front door. Had Natasha returned, ready to forgive him? He pulled himself from the chair and hurried to the foyer. Grasping the handle of the front door he opened it wide. The man on the other side was the last person he wanted to see.

  “Atwood? To what do we owe this unpleasant surprise?” he said dryly.

  The earl didn’t bother to wait for an invitation and stepped inside. “Have you seen three young ladies?”

  “No.” Anton was taken aback at the question. “Have more teachers disappeared? Perhaps the school needs to protect their women a bit better.”

  Atwood narrowed his eyes. Anton would love for him to take a swing. “Students, not teachers.”

  He immediately sobered. Students, young, innocent ladies were an entirely different matter. From those he had glanced at the school, they ranged from ages of around thirteen to
seventeen. “How do you know they are missing?”

  “They aren’t in their beds.” Atwood focused on Anton. “Those three knew I was coming back here to see if you had Miss Pritchard. I wouldn’t put it past them to have followed me.”

  “Why would they be so foolish?” Anton’s pulse increased. “They know nothing of me or what kind of man I am.”

  “They are often foolish,” Atwood ground out. “Adventurous and don’t plan ahead or think through their actions.”

  “Well, they aren’t here,” Anton insisted. “I am sure we would have heard three young ladies.”

  “Do you mind checking anyway, to see if they somehow got in the house and have been poking around looking for Miss Pritchard?”

  “You take this floor and I’ll search upstairs.” Anton turned, leaving Atwood standing in the foyer.

  He returned a bit later. “There is nobody else here, nor is it possible to get into the house without using this door or the one off the kitchen.”

  “What about windows, or the other doors leading outside?”

  “Nailed shut,” Anton answered. He wasn’t going to explain himself to Atwood.

  Atwood anchored fisted hands on his hips and blew out a breath. “I have no idea where they could be. I searched the grounds, my servants have gone over every path between here and the estate, everywhere we could think of before I knocked on your door.”

  “Perhaps they have already returned and you simply missed them,” Anton suggested. Would it be too rude to push the man out the door? It had been a long few days. No, make that a week, and he dearly wanted to sleep.

  “Lord Atwood,” a young man called out, running toward the house waving a piece of material in his hand.

  The two men stepped outside.

  “What is it, Michael?”

  “We found this wedged between some stones along the stairs leading to the beach.

  Atwood stiffened. “Show me.” The order was barked and the servant turned back the way he came.

  Anton wanted to turn around, shut the door, find his room and retire, but something in Atwood’s mannerism concerned him. A look of stark fear had passed over his features before he ordered the young man to show him where it had been found. He followed Atwood until they came to a stop at the edge of a cliff not far from his home. A set of stone steps leading down to the beach were currently underwater due to the high tide.

  “Dear Lord, I can’t believe they would. . .”

  “What?” Anton demanded. Surely these young ladies were smart enough to get off of the beach as the tide rose.

  “The cave.” Atwood turned to Anton. “There is a cave under your house.”

  He had forgotten the room at the back of his cellar led out and eventually to the beach. Both men turned and rushed back to the manor and down into the cellar. Anton lit lamps as soon as they descended the stairs.

  They took lamps and Anton led them down the corridor to the rear where a door led to a final room.

  The corridor ran the length of the house. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, but there was little dirt on the floor. One would think it would be filthier here. He had only been back here once, when he first inspected the manor and found there was no reason to return. The hall dead-ended at a door. “Here,” he called.

  He turned the handle. The door was not locked, but it didn’t give either. Anton heard the booted feet of Atwood come up from behind. He took a step back, lifted a leg, and kicked the door, which flew open.

  Anton lifted his lantern and stepped into a stark square room. Blankets were piled in one corner, next to several crates and a heavy chain. There were two extinguished lamps on the floor. He couldn’t remember if those items had been here before but assumed they had been stored in this room for whatever reason. He marched across to the entrance that apparently led to the cave then he grasped the handle and pulled. The door was stuck. He took a deep breath, grasped the handle tighter and yanked as hard as he could. It flew open. Atwood stepped through, Anton following him.

  At the edge of the water, but a few feet away, three girls sat huddled. Their terrified eyes looked up at Atwood, faces pale with fear.

  16

  …for the sounds had renewed their terror, and though the night passed without

  further disturbance, their fears were very little abated.

  A Sicilian Romance

  Ann Radcliffe

  Natalie and her friends hastily dressed after being told of the missing girls then they came downstairs to await word. “Where could those girls have gone?”

  “The manor house, I suspect,” Claudia offered.

  She whirled around. At least if they went there they would be safe. “Did they know...?”

  “Yes, they knew Atwood was going there to look for you this evening,” Tess offered.

  “Excuse me, Lady Atwood.” Wesley stepped into the room. “David has returned. It appears he and Michael found a piece of material snagged in the stones on the stairs along the cliff.”

  Natalie’s heart stopped for a moment. “Surely the girls haven’t...?” The thought was too frightening to voice.

  “Michael has gone to Lord Atwood. I am sure they will find the girls safe and sound.” His attempt at reassurance wasn’t comforting in the least.

  Natalie rushed past him, Tess and Claudia on her heels. They ran from the house toward the cliff. The moon above was practically full and made it easy to see. Atwood lingered just a bit ahead of them with Anton at his side. The two turned and headed for the house. As they neared the cliff, Natalie looked down, as did Claudia and Tess.

  “The tide is at the highest,” Claudia cried.

  “They are going to try and reach the girls through the room.” Tess nodded in their direction.

  “I just hope the girls had sense to remain there and not try to make it back to the stairs when the tide started coming in.” Natalie hastened her steps to the old manor house.

  The gentlemen disappeared into the house long before they arrived. Natalie stopped in the foyer before she turned and made her way to the kitchen and to the door leading to the cellar. Her heart hammered in her chest, pulse quickened and her throat tightened, making it difficult to breath. “I can’t go down there.”

  “That is fine. We will wait for them here.” Claudia glided over to the table and took a seat. Tess and Natalie followed.

  She couldn’t sit for long, and neither could Tess. Soon they were both pacing. Only Claudia remained calm. The fact that she picked at a loose thread on her skirt was the only sign she worried for the girls as well.

  After agonizing minutes, the sound of voices drifted to them as the men came up the stairs, the young ladies in tow.

  “The three of you are confined to your rooms, separately, for the rest of your days,” Natalie ground out before acknowledging anyone else.

  “We are sorry, Miss Pritchard, Lady Atwood and Miss Morris,” Sophia pleaded. The other two hung their heads in shame, as they should.

  “What were you thinking?”

  Eliza’s head came up. “We wanted to rescue you.”

  Natalie glared at Anton before she shepherded the girls from the room. There was a bench just inside the front door and she waved to it. “Sit. Do not speak. Do not move.”

  The three did as they were told without a peep. It was the quietest they had ever been.

  The adults emerged into the foyer and Natalie gestured for them to cross the hall and enter the sitting room. She shut the door before she railed at Anton.

  “This is all of your fault. If they would have died, it would have been because of you.” She fisted her hands and blew out an exasperated breath. “Do you know how much danger they were in because you took me?”

  Anton grabbed her wrists and looked down. “I am sorry.” His gaze bore into her, but Natalie wasn’t ready to forgive him yet. She might never be able to after everything he had put her through.

  “They are fine,” Atwood reminded her. “Those three would have eventually ended up here
whether your husband returned or not. You know that as well as I do.”

  Atwood was right. They’d all expected the girls to venture here sooner than later. “We are actually lucky he was here so we could get in the house.”

  Natalie turned away from Anton and ignored Atwood. “They are still very much in trouble.”

  “As they should be,” Tess agreed.

  Claudia walked further into the room and joined Tess. She tilted her head and studied Anton. “So, you are Natalie’s husband.” She sounded more accusing than friendly.

  Eliza stood then started for the door. They had closed it, but it had cracked back open.

  “What are you doing?” Sophia hissed.

  “I am going to listen, of course.” She offered a cheeky grin and tiptoed across the foyer.

  Rosemary stood to follow. Sophia grasped her hand. “We aren’t supposed to move.”

  She shrugged. “They will never know.”

  Reluctantly, Sophia followed. She wanted to hear as badly as the other two.

  “I am Anton Kazakov, Natasha’s husband.”

  Sophia peeked through the crack in the door.

  “Who is Natasha?” Rosemary whispered.

  “Shhh,” Eliza hissed quietly.

  “And, you are the Ghost?” Lady Atwood asked of Mr. Kazakov.

  “I am. I assume Natasha has mentioned me.”

  “Not in a favorable light,” Miss Morris assured him.

  Sophia couldn’t believe her teacher was so, well, rude. Could Miss Pritchard actually be this Natasha? Lady Atwood changed her name when she became a teacher. Had Miss Pritchard, and why? If so, did Miss Morris have another name too?

  “She told us that you and her brother spied for England while you were in Russia.”

  “Ah, so there are no secrets between friends,” Kazakov observed.

  “You were the Ghost, correct?” Claudia asked, her tone not as cold.

  “True.”

  Sophia moved closer. This was becoming very interesting.

  “Am I correct in assuming you were the Ghost Natalie shot the other night?”