Stepping back, he gave Nicholas a crisp nod and, facing Elise, swept her a bow. “Until we meet again, Mistress Radborne.”
With arms set akimbo and feet braced apart Nicholas observed the departure of the boarding party. He waited until the grappling hooks were dislodged and tossed across to the other vessel, then he strode the deck, issuing brusque orders to his men until they were underway again. He knew what lay in store for them in England, but it had become a matter of pride now. He would show this upstart Englishman that he could not casually issue threats of arrest without having them and his authority tested.
Chapter 27
LONDON WAS INDEED a place of unrest. If not before, then surely after the Hansa captain and his men were arrested and carted away to Newgate gaol. And if not all of it, then surely the small portion at the quay where Elise set Andrew Sinclair back upon his heels. She gave him a fine sampling of her disfavor, venting her frustration at the outrageous injustice done in the name of protection. “You’re not the keeper of my person and I decry any claims you make to that effect!” She only paused to take a breath as she further lambasted the astonished man. “Rather, you’ve portrayed yourself as a despoiler of honorable men! And I’ll not rest until Captain Von Reijn and his men have been released from the gaol with your apologies! Believe me! ‘Tis my most fervent intent to go directly to the Queen to see this affront put aright. And if I’ve naught but a final breath to speak it with, I shall most certainly seek that end!”
In a vixenish temper Elise snatched her arm away as Sinclair tried to escort her to a waiting barge and told him sharply, “I’ll have naught from you but the release of Captain Von Reijn and his men! So leave me be!”
Lacking an adequate argument to soften the lady’s anger, Sinclair gave her over to the boatman’s care and waited in confused silence as Spence discreetly hired a seaman to take Eddy and the mare on to the stable at Bradbury while Fitch loaded the lady’s possessions aboard. The pair took their places well aft of the indignant woman, daring nothing more than a glance or two at the suffering man. They both were given to fretting over the lengths a man would go to take an innocent man into custody and what such a one might do if he came across the Marquess. They were in agreement that it was good fortune indeed that Lord Seymour had not made the crossing with them, for there was no doubt in their minds that he would have been arrested and taken to the Tower posthaste.
It was some time later when the sailing barge halted at the river stairs belonging to the grounds and manor house of Sir Ramsey Radborne. The baggage was unloaded, the waterman paid, and the chests carried to the front stoop. Captain Sinclair had managed to inform Elise that her uncle was presently residing in the manor with his family. She accepted the news with stoic demeanor, but promised herself that on behalf of her husband, she would present her arguments to the Queen until Maxim was restored to honor and to the place he loved.
A feeling of anxiety plagued Elise as she approached the manse from which she had once fled in fear. Her last memories of her imprisonment blighted the happier times when she had lived within the security of her father’s presence. Had circumstances been such that she could have foregone seeking an audience with Elizabeth, she would have traveled on to Bradbury Hall without stopping at the manse. Despite the protection Spence and Fitch provided with their presence, she was cautious about giving Cassandra any opportunity to seize her again.
The spacious hall was well-lighted, attesting to the occupancy of the house. A low murmur of voices came from the great chamber, and for a brief moment Elise thought she detected the mangled speech of her uncle amid the chatter, but the words were too faint and blurred to be heard distinctly.
“Mercy! ‘Tis the mistress!” The excited cry came from an elderly maid at the top of the stairs and did much to herald the newcomer’s presence. “She’s come home!”
Servants rushed from different parts of the manse until they neared the hall wherein she stood, then they came to stumbling, hesitant halts. From doorways, connecting halls, and behind large furnishings they watched her shyly, almost fearfully. There were more than a few who seemed distressed at her presence, and some who shook their heads in worry. None dared approach her, and much bemused by their reticence, Elise slowly crossed the hall, her hesitant steps echoing in the silence that now filled the place. The conversation had ceased in the great chamber, and now from all around her she was aware of being carefully observed. Finally, it was the tiny housekeeper, Clara, who hobbled forward to greet her.
In some relief Elise held out her arms to greet the ancient, remembering only too well that it was this small, thin woman who had repeatedly risked life and limb to help her during Cassandra’s reign of terror. “Have I grown horns and a spiny tail of late?” Elise questioned in amazement. “What is troubling everyone?”
“ ‘Tis yer Aunt Cassandra,” Clara answered in a hushed whisper. “She’s livin’ here wit’ yer uncle now . . . as his wife.”
In wide astonishment Elise drew away to stare down into the small, wrinkled face of the old servant, hoping that she had misunderstood her. Surely even Edward Stamford would not be so foolish as to take Cassandra to wife. “Tell me ‘tis not true, Clara.”
“ ‘Ere be no doubt, mistress,” the diminutive housekeeper assured her. “Yer Uncle Edward an’ yer aunt were wed shortly after ye were snatched away. The squire came here ta stay whilst he visited the Queen ta accuse the Marquess Bradbury o’ yer capture an’ ta press for his capture. Cassandra was probably a-eyein’ the place waitin’ for ye. She come up ta visit the squire, an’ after settin’ her eye on his riches, she must o’ took it in her head ta stay on ’cause it weren’t long ‘fore they wed.”
Perhaps more than anyone else, Elise was aware of the many faces of Cassandra. It was no great feat for the woman to ply her charms upon an aging old man. She was still beautiful enough to intrigue men of younger years, and a lonely widower would not have much of a chance to resist her.
Elise stiffened as she heard a soft, chiding chuckle behind her, and she turned to find the slender, shapely figure of her aunt silhouetted within the arched doorway of the great chamber. In the shadows behind her, Elise could see the jeering faces of her sons, among them the glaring dark eyes of Forsworth Radborne.
“My goodness, if it isn’t our little Elise,” Cassandra observed with smiling sarcasm, making no attempt to approach her niece. “Have you come back to pay us a visit?”
Finding herself face to face with her adversaries, Elise could not draw a deep breath into her lungs. It was as if someone had struck her solidly across the chest. All the frightening memories of yesteryear came back to assail her, and she was atremble with fear at the thought that it would all begin again.
Cassandra smirked in haughty pleasure, sensing her power over the girl as well as the hirelings. It was evident the girl lacked a strong defense, for the timidity of the Bradbury servants was typical of their earlier performance. Then they had fled in fear before her own strong display of authority. Considering their present lack of response to Elise’s return, she had reason to believe they would crumble again beneath the heavy-handed demands she and her sons would exact from them. It would only be a matter of time before she would wrest the location of the treasure from the girl and establish the properties of Ramsey Radborne as their own.
Elise collected her scattered wits and formed a firm resolve to rout this well-attired caperdudgeon from her home as quickly as possible. Her swift departure would be for the good of all concerned.
Facing Spence and Fitch, who had not yet caught the gist of what was happening, she directed them to remain at her side, and then sent Clara off to tell the cook to prepare a meal for the three of them. While Cassandra looked on with amused condescension, she bade a pair of stout-armed servants to carry her chests upstairs to her chambers.
“But Mr. Forsworth is there,” a young maid hurriedly informed her, as if the news would halter the command.
Elise raised a querying brow at th
e young beauty, sensing the maid had more than one reason to be knowledgeable about where Forsworth had bedded himself. If she knew her cousin at all, she would be inclined to think he was making use of the girl in a very sensual sense. “Then by all means,” she instructed dryly, “strip the bed and pack up his possessions.”
“But . . . but . . . where shall I take them?” The maid stumbled in bemusement and glanced toward Forsworth, seeking an escape from the dilemma she now found herself in. Having been only recently hired to attend the needs of the Mistress Cassandra, she was not acquainted with the extent of this newcomer’s authority.
Elise’s growing impatience with the unwise girl was detectable in her tight and humorless smile. “For now, just get them out of my chambers. We’ll discuss where he’ll be going very shortly.”
Cassandra laughingly scoffed, “And who are you to advise where my son will or will not go? ‘Tis his decision to make, not yours.”
Elise briefly met the woman’s challenging stare and answered her in a level tone. “Though you may deny my authority here, Cassandra, I’m still the only mistress of this house, and my orders will be obeyed forthwith. I need not seek your approval for anything I do here. Is that clear?” She disdained her aunt’s smug smile and, with renewed irritation, turned upon the girl who waited in slack-jawed confusion. She saw a need to break through that one’s daze and sharpened her tone. “Now go and do what I told you! And be quick about it!”
The maid dared no further question or delay, but bobbed a quick curtsey and fled, prompting the other servants to follow in hasty retreat. They saw an approaching confrontation between the mistress and her aunt, and they wanted to be well out of range when it erupted.
Coolly Elise faced Cassandra again, expecting some argument, but the woman and her sons stepped back to allow Edward to shuffle through the doorway. In the next moment Elise found herself stricken with shock. She could hardly believe the painfully thin, straggly-haired old man who now approached her was the same stout and blustering individual she had known all of her life. She was totally shocked to see how badly he had wasted away in her absence.
“Uncle Edward?” she inquired, seeking some affirmation that it was truly him. A small nod assured her, and she reached out to clutch his bony hand between both of hers. Further words seemed impossible as she stared into his face. Gone were the rosy, round cheeks and plump features of years past. The lackluster eyes were hollowed by the skeletal gauntness of his face, and were underscored with deep circles of a darkly translucent bluish hue. The darkness of them cast a sharp contrast to his pasty-white skin.
“Elise, me girl . . .” He made a brave attempt to smile, but the effort conveyed a frailness that was frightening. “ ‘Tis happy I am ta see ye back. Arabella needs yer company. She be a widow now . . .”
His statement stunned Elise anew, and with great compassion she gently embraced her uncle who choked back a sob at the demonstration of her affection. It was rare nowadays that he was given even a small outpouring of kindness, and he was much humbled by it.
“I’m so very sorry, Uncle Edward,” Elise whispered. “I had not heard. Poor Arabella . . . she must be grieving sorely.”
Drawing in a breath to steady his emotions, Edward tried to compose himself as he related the incident. “Reland was found floatin’ in the river ’bout a month ago. He’d been out ridin’, ye see. ‘Tis me guess his horse spooked an’ tossed him off. He must’ve hit his head ‘fore he fell into the water an’ drowned ere he could come ta his senses.”
“Where is Arabella now?” Elise asked, raising her gaze to search the hall. “I would see her.”
“She’s gone to see some countess friend of hers,” Cassandra answered from the doorway. “She won’t be coming back until much later. The two of them are as thick as twins, but they don’t do much though, just gossip.”
Edward’s face contorted suddenly as a spasm of pain seized him, and he clutched his belly as a dapple of sweat popped from his pores. Elise took his arm to assist him to a chair, but he shook his head, denying her help, and after a moment the wrenching agony eased. Finally, with difficulty, he straightened himself. “I’ll be goin’ upstairs ta bed now. I’ve not been a bit well lately, an’ I’m so dreadfully tired.”
“Uncle . . . I must ask you . . .” Elise delayed him a moment, and he waited for her to speak with a dulled gaze. She was almost fearful of asking, for he might confirm her suspicions and then the horrors of the past would be brought to the surface like a dead corpse uprooted from a grave. It was true enough that Cassandra had abused her, but there were other stories from her childhood that made her captivity seem almost gentle in comparison. Heretofore, she had pushed the tales to the back of her mind, not daring to let herself even think of them. “What has done you ill? When last I saw you, you were hale and hearty. What do the physicians say?”
“Humph!” Edward snorted in weak derision. “They scratch their noggins tryin’ ta figger it out. The tearin’ pain in me gut . . . it come upon me only a few weeks after you were taken. Me sweet Cassandra, she’s been tendin’ me ever since I became ill. The physicians gave me a nasty draught to take, an’ me sweet wife assures me ‘twill do me good . . . but I grow weaker . . .” He shuffled away, stoop-shouldered and badly shriveled.
“Poor child, it must be a terrible shock for you to see how Edward has wasted away,” Cassandra commented, finally sauntering forward. She reached out to pat Elise’s cheek, but her niece drew away in sharp distaste. The elder only smiled as she continued in overstated concern. “We’ve all been worried about him.” She tossed a glance over her shoulder to receive the support of her brood. “We’ve tried our best to help him.”
“We’ve done our very best,” Forsworth agreed with a sly grin as he leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb of the great chamber. “None could fault us.”
Cassandra shrugged indolently. “ ‘Tis unlikely he’ll live out the year.”
“I’m sure you’ve made preparations in advance of his demise,” Elise retorted.
A smug smile traced the woman’s lips. “Why, of course. Edward signed a marriage settlement with me the day we were wed. He agreed to pay all my debts upon the date of the contract, and, upon his death, to leave me his entire fortune and properties. I shall be quite a wealthy woman should he be taken, poor man.”
Elise’s own smile displayed her disapproval. “You will no doubt heartily encourage and cheer on that occasion.”
“ ‘Twill tear me apart,” lamented the woman, feigning a sorrowful demeanor.
“I’m sure,” Elise jeered.
Cassandra tilted her head sideways as she contemplated her niece. “Why, dear Elise, I believe you’ve actually changed. I could even allow that you’ve grown more beautiful. Or is it that you’ve just matured.”
“Hopefully I’ve grown wiser to your ways, Cassandra,” Elise answered smoothly.
The woman continued as if she had not heard the remark. “There were such wild rumors about that rascally knave Seymour, ‘twould probably be farfetched to hope he did you no ill. Indeed, if his reputation is to be trusted, I’d be tempted to believe he made use of your captivity.” Cassandra smiled as she saw the color rising to the other’s cheeks and dug her claws in deeper. “A virile man like that with a young maid . . . Why, ‘tis impossible to think that nothing happened.”
Elise recovered her aplomb adroitly and gave quick riposte. “I wasn’t aware that you moved in the same circles with Lord Seymour and could ascertain what he’s really like. From what I’ve heard of him, he has always been very particular about his associates and friends, never acquainting himself with thieves and murderers.”
“Humph! The man should’ve been hanged long ago for his offenses,” Cassandra retorted, and smiled with undiminished confidence. “I’m sure the Queen will place a reward upon his head. Rest assured, my dear, he will hang.”
“I welcome none of your assurances, Cassandra,” Elise answered with a trace of a smile. “They’re an offen
se to me.”
The elder spread her hands in a guise of innocence. “I was just commenting on the Marquess,” she excused herself. “Men like that deserve no compassion.”
“I was treated with immeasurable care while under Lord Seymour’s protection.” Elise paced the length of the hall in thoughtful mood, and then faced her adversary with a meaningful stare. “However, I hark to a time in this very same house when I had good cause to fear for my life.”
“Really, Elise, you should discipline your servants more severely,” Cassandra admonished. “Their continued bungling can frighten anyone to death.”
Elise had learned long ago the futility of arguing with the woman. Cassandra had the talent for turning every word to her benefit, and whatever her offenses, she would carelessly shrug them off and toss the blame elsewhere without feeling any remorse for wrongdoing. Changing her manner, she turned aside to Fitch and Spence and spoke in a voice clear enough for her aunt to understand. “Arm yourself with whatever weapon you may judge worthy and keep watch over my person at all times while this woman”—she paused effectively to mark the presence of Forsworth and his brothers, boldly adding—“and her kin are in my house.”
“Your house?” Cassandra hooted in, self-sustained confidence. “My dear Elise, must I remind you? You are naught but a mere maid and cannot inherit your father’s estate without a grant from the Queen. There was no such settlement entitling you to his properties. Therefore, my sons are the only rightful heirs of any holdings of the Radbornes. They have full claim to everything you see and will surely take it as their own. Truly, my dear, as far as I can see, you are naught but a pauper . . . without home or possessions to claim.”
So Worthy My Love Page 48