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

by Charles, Jane

  As she wasn’t keen on dying whether by illness or pistol, Natalie moved across the room and turned her backside to the heat and hoped her gown dried quickly. She stiffened as he came up from behind her. She was in danger, just how much and what else might he do to her?

  He tugged the knot at the back of her head and soon the cloth across her mouth fell away. Natalie worked her jaw, loosening up the muscles. She wished to rub the soreness away as well. “My wrists?” her voice was hoarse and dry.

  Vanko lifted an eyebrow and stared at her in disbelieve before walking away. Well, at least two of the three bindings were removed. Perhaps if she gave him no cause of concern he would remove the last one as well.

  “Where are we?”

  “You do not need to know.”

  “How will Anton find us?”

  A slow, almost evil smile spread across his lips. “He will, eventually.”

  Natalie shivered again and this time it had nothing to do with the dampness of her skirt. Vanko planned to kill both her and Anton. Would he shoot anyone else who helped? Once Atwood and Tess realized she was missing they would launch a search. Anton would join when they returned, if she had not been found. How many people did Vanko plan to kill so he could have revenge on her husband?

  She shifted in front of the fire, trying to dry her skirts and took in the room. There were cobwebs in the corners and dust covered much of the furniture. Nobody had been here in a long time. Not even servants to attend the premises until the owner returned. At least there was furniture so they didn’t have to sit on the hard floor. Even though it had furniture, there was very little to be used as a weapon. Nothing decorated the tables or walls. It was as if whoever lived her before took all personal items, leaving just a few chairs, settee, tables and a handful of lamps.

  “Sit.”

  She startled at his bark.

  Vanko pointed to a chair not far from the fireplace.

  “Might I use the necessary first?” Anything to prolong being tied to a chair, which she suspected was his plan.

  “Very well,” he ground out and led her down the hall to a water closet. He stood in the door and stared at her.

  “Could you untie my hands?”

  With a sigh he motioned for her to turn around.

  Natalie stretched her fingers and fisted her hands to get the circulation flowing again and then pulled the door closed. It wasn’t as if she could escape from this room and she planned to take as much time as she could to formulate a plan. As she did not know how long she would be tied to the chair, if she didn’t manage to escape, she did as she claimed, but did not leave the closet right away. There had to be a weapon in here.

  She looked in corners and beneath a table, but there was nothing in this room that could be of any use to her. She eyed the chamber pot. It was not heavy enough to cause any real harm. Tossing the refuse in Vanko’s face would probably only anger him further and Natalie dismissed the idea.

  She stood in the center of the room, hands fisted on her hips and glared at the door. She would simply just have to make a run for it.

  Natalie took three deep breaths, blowing each out to calm her nerves before she readied herself. She slowly pushed on the door, noting where Vanko stood, then pushed on it with all of her strength. He thudded against the wall and she sprinted for the door. Just as she grasped the handle and opened her mouth to scream, the strong arm came about her waist, lifting her from the floor as if she was nothing more than a rag doll. Vanko carried her back into the sitting room. He dropped her into the seat, held one arm against the rest and secured her to it with a rope before doing the same to the other.

  Natalie only glared at him.

  “I will not gag you, yet, because there is no one to hear. But, if you give me any further trouble, I will knock you senseless. Do you understand?”

  “Girls, have you seen Miss Pritchard this morning?” Lady Atwood asked as she came into the breakfast room.

  “No,” Sophia answered.

  “Odd,” Lady Atwood mused as she left the room.

  “What do think that is about?” Rosemary whispered.

  “The maid has confirmed that Miss Pritchard’s bed was not slept in last evening,” Sophia heard Wesley inform someone, who she assumed was Lady Atwood, though she could not see either of them.

  “And you haven’t seen her since last evening?” Lady Atwood questioned.

  Eliza rose from her chair then rushed to the hall. “She didn’t return from the beach?”

  Sophia followed, concerned by the alarm in Eliza’s eyes.

  “When did she go to the beach?” Sophia and Lady Atwood asked at the same time.

  “A little before sunset,” Eliza answered. “I saw her walking toward the cliffs.”

  “Stay here,” Lady Atwood ordered

  “What do you think happened?” Rosemary sidled up to Eliza.

  “Perhaps Miss Pritchard’s husband returned and saw her and they went to his manor instead of returning here,” Sophia answered though her stomach churned with worry. Wouldn’t they have at least come to Atwood Manor and advise them that the Ghost had been caught and her father was unharmed?

  “I don’t think that is the case,” Eliza said.

  “Do you think something horrible has happened to her?” Rosemary asked and then moved closer. “Maybe the Ghost came here to get her.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Sophia argued. Really, sometimes these two tested her patience.

  A moment later, Lady Atwood, along with Wesley, passed before the windows leading to outside. The girls moved to watch their progress before exiting the house and following until they stopped at the top of the cliffs looking down.

  “Shall I pay a call at the manor?” Wesley asked Lady Atwood.

  “I shall go with you.” They turned and continued on. The girls followed.

  As they approached the crumbling walls surrounding Creighton Manor, Mr. Vanko Michalovic rode from the path leading to the woods. Wesley and Lady Atwood stopped, waiting for him to approach.

  “Have you seen Miss Pritchard?,” Lady Atwood called up when he was close enough to hear.

  Mr. Michalovic shook his head. “No, but I have been riding this morning.”

  “Anton did not return yet?” she questioned.

  “No.” He dismounted and walked forward. “I was going to ride over and inquire.” He glanced between Wesley and Lady Atwood and then spotted the girls standing further back. “Is something wrong?”

  Lady Atwood pursed her lips. “It seems Miss Pritchard might be missing.”

  Mr. Michalovic frowned. “What do you mean, missing?”

  “The last she was seen walking to the beach last evening,” Wesley answered. “And her bed was not slept in.”

  Mr. Michalovic straightened. “She did not come here.”

  “Oh dear,” Sophia gasped. This did not bode well. What could have happened to Miss Pritchard? Surely she didn’t run away, did she? “Maybe she went to the school?”

  Lady Atwood turned and studied the girls. “I hadn’t given that consideration.”

  “We can go check if you would like us to,” Rosemary suggested.

  Lady Atwood bit her bottom lip. A moment later she gave a quick nod. “Just in case, please only speak with Mrs. Wiggons. We don’t want to alarm anyone unnecessarily.”

  At least we’re doing something useful for once, instead of getting in trouble, Sophia thought as they retraced their steps and hurried to the school.

  “I’ll search Creighton Manor and the grounds,” Michalovic offered. “If I find anything I will let you know straight away.”

  28

  I have seen the inward struggles of his heart, and mine has bled for him.

  A Sicilian Romance

  Ann Radcliffe

  Anton stopped only long enough to change horses, riding through the night, arriving at Atwood Manor in the early afternoon. After dismounting, he ran to the door and entered without bothering to knock or waiting for it to be answ
ered. “Natasha,” he called out.

  Silence greeted him and a moment later Atwood came from the library. “She is not here.”

  Anton prayed she was simply out walking or had returned to the school, but he knew she was in danger. The immediacy of the situation, near panic, had stayed with him, growing stronger the closer the came to Atwood Manor. “Where is she?”

  “Missing.”

  “Where is Vanko?” he demanded.

  Atwood’s eyebrows furrowed. “I have not seen him since this morning. Why?”

  “I think he intends to harm her.”

  “That is not possible,” Lady Atwood insisted as she entered the foyer. “Natalie disappeared last evening and we saw Mr. Michalovic this morning.”

  “Had he seen her?” Anton asked.

  “No.”

  “He lied!” Anton yelled.

  “What is this about,” Miss Morris asked as she came down the stairs.

  Anton sighed and thrust his fingers through his hair. He did not have time to explain the situation. They had to find Natasha before Vanko harmed her.

  Anton peered up. The three students were studying the group of them from the top of the stairs. The last thing any of them needed, especially Natasha, was those three involved. After turning on his heel he marched down the hall and into the library. He stopped into the center of the room and glanced around. Wesley appeared out of nowhere and pressed a glass of brandy into his hand. “Thank you,” he muttered as the others followed him into the room and closed the door.

  Anton quickly explained about capturing Warley and what he’d learned.

  “You don’t know why Vanko has done any of this?” Atwood questioned.

  “No.” Anton slammed his empty glass on the desk. “Before anything we must find Natasha.” He strode toward the door. “I suggest we begin by tearing Creighton Manor apart.”

  “I don’t think he would keep her there,” Atwood followed him from the room. “It is too easy.”

  “I agree,” Anton said. “But, he may have left behind a clue as to where he may have taken her.”

  Atwood called for Wesley to gather the servants to assist in the search even though they had already combed the woods earlier. Anton broke into a run, taking the path through the woods to Creighton Manor.

  Silence greeted him when they entered the house. An eeriness hung in the air. Where were the servants he had hired? Anton strode to the kitchen and was brought up short. The kitchen staff was enjoying cups of tea and they quickly came to their feet.

  “You’ve returned!” she exclaimed. “I will see about preparing dinner right away.”

  “Don’t concern yourself,” he dismissed. “Where is Mr. Michalovic?”

  The servants looked at each other. “We have not seen him since last evening,” one of them finally answered.

  “I saw him riding in the woods this morning,” a footman offered. “But he hasn’t been in the manor.”

  He had to be here somewhere, or close.

  Anton strode down to the cellar. There were many rooms located below the manor yet to be discovered. He could only pray Natasha was in one of them and unharmed.

  Atwood’s servants followed them into the house and half a dozen followed him to the cellar. They paused only long enough to light lamps before spreading out and walking down the corridors and investigating every room. Only cobwebs, spiders and mice were in residence. No dust had been disturbed. Anton strode up the stairs to search the main level. She had to be here somewhere or Vanko had left a clue as to where he had taken her.

  “Did you hear that?” Eliza’s eyes lit with intrigue as the men raced from the manor.

  “Mr. Michalovic is a villain,” Rosemary exclaimed. “I would never have guessed. This is better than any of the novels we have read.”

  Sophia stared at Rosemary, her mouth open in disbelief. “Miss Pritchard is in danger. This is not fiction.”

  Eliza grasped the elbows of Rosemary and Sophia and pulled them away from the window outside of the library. “Do you think he has her in that old manor?”

  Sophia shook her head. “He would expect it to be searched.”

  “True.” Eliza bit her bottom lip and continued toward the front of the house. “He has to have hidden her close.”

  “Why?” Rosemary asked anxiously.

  “He only has the one horse and no carriage.”

  “Unless he purchased one,” Sophia suggested.

  Eliza suddenly turned. “We need to go into town and find out who has purchased a carriage and their destination. Then we will know where Miss Pritchard is.”

  Sophia sighed. “If Mr. Michalovic bought a carriage, that doesn’t mean the previous owner would know where it was to travel to.”

  “It is worth asking about,” Rosemary insisted.

  The two of them would not let this go and it was safer than her friends insisting on rescuing Miss Pritchard. No doubt that would come in time, if they by chance learned where she had been taken. By then, hopefully Lord Atwood and Mr. Kazakov would have found her. But learning if a carriage had been purchased was harmless at the moment.

  “Let’s get our pelisses and go into town,” Eliza rushed inside and toward the stairs.

  “Shouldn’t we tell someone where we are going?” Sophia called after her.

  “No,” Eliza hissed. “They will only want to stop us.”

  Sophia flounced toward the library. “Please get my pelisse while you are upstairs. I will at least leave a note.”

  Rosemary frowned at her.

  “They are already worried about Miss Pritchard. They do not need to be worrying about us as well.”

  “She isn’t here, nor did Vanko leave any clues as to where he may have taken her,” Anton said with frustration and stomped out of the house. “The servants and I searched every corner from the cellar to the attic and nothing.”

  “Let’s go back to the manor and think this through,” Lord Atwood suggested.

  At a loss, Anton followed him. Where could Vanko have Natasha?

  Lady Atwood and Miss Morris were just coming up from the beach as they approached.

  “I could find nothing in the caves,” Lady Atwood announced.

  “You shouldn’t have gone in there yourself,” Atwood chastised his wife.

  “Had I thought they were there, we would not have,” she insisted. “Claudia and I were hoping to find anything that would indicate they were there at some time.”

  “Where was Vanko when you saw him this morning?” Anton asked.

  “He was riding from the woods.” Lady Atwood pointed to the trail between Creighton Manor and Atwood’s estate. Further in, the path branched in two directions. Anton had only taken the path to Atwood’s estate and was irritated with himself for not investigating the opposite direction. Once he had found Natasha, there had been no need to wonder what was beyond.

  Anton turned back to Atwood. “I need a horse.”

  “I’m going with you,” Miss Morris announced.

  The last thing Anton needed was a woman interfering. It would almost be as bad as those three students who were always up to mischief. “No.” He continued to march down the path toward the estate.

  Miss Morris hurried to catch up. “You cannot keep me away. I will follow if necessary.”

  Anton wheeled on her. “You will be in the way,” he ground out.

  “She is my friend.” Her tone was insistent.

  “You have an emotional attachment which could put us all in danger.”

  Miss Morris pulled back. “Are you not more emotionally involved or are you simply playing with Natalie’s affections to further your revenge?”

  “You know that is not true,” he yelled.

  “And you haven’t been here for two years,” she argued back.

  “By no fault of my own.”

  Miss Morris took a deep breath. “She is one of my dearest friends. We don’t know what Vanko may have done while he had her.” She swallowed and looked up at him. “She m
ay need me.” The last was said in a quieter tone.

  “If Vanko has harmed a hair on her head he will die a slow, excruciating death.”

  “And who will see to Natalie while you kill him?”

  He stared at the woman. Her blue-eyed gaze was unwavering. “You will stay back until we have rescued her.”

  Miss Morris gave a quick nod.

  Anton turned and continued marching through the woods. “We have wasted enough time already.”

  29

  Involved in dark and fearful doubts, she yet commanded her feelings, and endeavoured

  to assume an appearance of composure.

  A Sicilian Romance

  Ann Radcliffe

  Natalie must have dozed after Vanko left this morning. It had been bright when he promised to return. Now shadows filled the room from the sun dipping low on the horizon. It would be dark in a few hours. Where had he gone and when would he be back?

  Her hands were still tied but not her feet. She had strained against the ropes after he left, but to no avail though she managed to cut and scrape the skin around her wrists. The blood was dried and she glanced around the cottage. There had to be something in here to help her gain her freedom.

  For probably the dozenth time, Natalie studied every surface and item in the room. There was nothing sharp enough to cut through the ropes.

  Her stomach gnawed with hunger, which surprised her. Even though she hadn’t eaten since yesterday, the situation left her anxious and she was astonished she wanted to eat anything. Her mouth was also parched. She licked her lips to try and bring moisture to them.

  The scrape of a boot on the porch alerted her to Vanko’s return. She watched the door. What if it wasn’t him but someone who could help her? Natalie fought the urge to cry out for help. If it was Vanko, her outburst would only anger him. If it was not, the person coming inside would find her quickly enough.

  Her heartbeat increased as the door opened and closed. Footsteps fell heavy against the wood floor as the person moved toward the room she was inside.