An Independent Woman

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An Independent Woman Page 12

by Anna Jacobs


  “It’s my house now, Ada,” Marcus corrected quietly.

  “I know that, sir, but you’ll never change her.”

  Pearl got up and served the maid a bowl of stew. Ada sat down, looking uneasy in such company.

  “Eat up,” said Marcus. “You’ve earned it. And no one has time to set a table for me and Miss Fleming in another room, so you’ll have to put up with our company.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  After the meal, they went in search of a suitable bedroom and both Pearl and Serena agreed on one at the front of the house.

  After he’d helped carry the women’s luggage up, Vic hesitated and looked at his fiancée. “Are you sure you two will be all right?”

  “Of course we will,” Pearl scoffed. “No one’s going to break in and kidnap us, are they? I know the difference between real life and stories, my lad. But if it makes you feel any better, I promise we’ll lock our bedroom door.” She turned to see Marcus speaking quietly to Serena and whispered, “I think he really likes her. It’s not just her money he wants.”

  He followed her gaze and smiled. “I think you may be right.” But as he and Marcus got ready to leave the house, he felt uneasy. “I don’t like leaving them here on their own here, Marcus.”

  “No. I don’t, either. But I’m trying to avoid gossip by sleeping at the Lodge. You know what people are like. Serena’s got enough trouble on her plate without falling foul of those old biddies in town.” He went across to a rack of keys and took the spare one for the back door, locking the latter carefully behind them and slipping the key into his pocket.

  When they got to the Lodge, Vic hesitated. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll stay here tonight, just in case. I don’t know why but I feel—well, worried.”

  “So do I.” Marcus stared towards the darkened mass of the big house. “For two pins I’d go back to there again.”

  “That might frighten them now.” Vic shrugged. “Ah, he won’t come after them during the night, not if he’s got a doctor ready to swear Serena’s lost her wits. And we can run across in a couple of minutes if they need us. I’ll sleep down here on the sofa.”

  “We’ll both sleep down here,” Marcus corrected and brought across a footstool, setting it in front of the big armchair. “I’ll just fetch some blankets.”

  “I’ll go. You need to rest that leg. And I’ll keep first watch, eh?”

  In the middle of the night Serena woke with a start. She was a light sleeper and was sure she’d heard a door bang somewhere. She listened intently, her heart beating fast and it seemed to her that she could hear faint noises from inside the house. If the door banging hadn’t woken her, she’d have thought nothing of the noises—and indeed this would probably turn out to be a false alarm. But thinking of Fleming’s ruthlessness, she decided it was better to be safe than sorry and nudged Pearl awake, whispering, “I may be worrying about nothing but I’m sure I heard someone moving around downstairs.”

  Pearl sucked in her breath. “If we hear anything else we’ll get up and dress. No one’s catching me in this old flannel nightdress. Why my Mum packed this one, I don’t know.”

  They went to listen at the door. A stair creaked, then another.

  “There is someone,” Pearl gasped. Without speaking they flung on their clothes anyhow, then she went to look out of the window, muttering in annoyance as the moon went behind the clouds.

  “I reckon I could climb down that drainpipe and fetch Vic.”

  Serena went to stand next to her and as the moon emerged from the clouds, she could see the nearby drainpipe clearly. It looked very thin and the ground seemed a long way below them.

  Suddenly a woman’s voice cried out and cut off abruptly from a room in the other wing.

  “That’s Mrs Lonnerden!” Serena said.

  “They’re checking all the rooms.” Pearl tied the laces of her shoes and flung the window wide open. She slung her legs over the sill then swung sideways to the drainpipe with an ease Serena envied. It didn’t seem to take her a minute to climb down to the ground, from where she beckoned vigorously.

  Serena gulped then, as footsteps came towards the bedroom, no doubt drawn there by the noise of the window opening, she too climbed out. The drainpipe moved to and fro under her weight, as if one of the wall attachments was loose, and she couldn’t hold back a moan of fear. She heard someone yell “Come out of there!” and bang on their bedroom door as she inched her way down.

  Sweat started on her brow and terror shivered through her each time she had to let go with one hand to move lower. Once her foot slipped and when later the same foot jarred on something, it took her a minute to realise she’d reached the ground.

  “You’re down,” Pearl whispered. “Now let’s get to the Lodge.”

  The two of them began to creep along the path. Behind them came the sound of voices calling out as the intruders discovered the open window. Lamps were lit in various parts of the house.

  “It doesn’t matter about noise now,” Serena said. “Run!”

  They set off, running along the path that led to the Lodge and the main road. The moon abruptly went behind the clouds and they had to slow down a little.

  Suddenly Serena bumped into someone and let out a yell of sheer terror.

  “What is it?” Pearl cried from behind her.

  “Shh! It’s only me and Vic.”

  “Marcus.” Serena sagged against him for a minute, then realised this was dangerous. “They’re coming after us and we don’t know how many there are. We have to get away quickly.”

  “Damnation. And all I can do is limp. Why don’t the rest of you run ahead into the village?”

  “Why don’t we make for the Diggles’ house, then I’ll run on to fetch Constable Yedhill?” Vic suggested.

  But when they came to the garden of the Lodge Marcus stopped. “There’s a motor car out on the road and someone inside it.”

  Vic peered through the darkness. “You’re right. Look, you three go and hide in the shrubbery and I’ll run through the fields for help.”

  “No, I’ll do it. You know I’m a faster runner than you.” Pearl was off before Vic could stop her.

  “Go after her,” Marcus said. “I know somewhere for us two to hide.” He guided Serena to a side path. “Shh. Walk quietly and trust me.”

  She did as he said, unable to believe that this was happening, that it wasn’t a nightmare. She didn’t ask where they were going, moving after him as quietly as she could through the dark gardens, glad when the fitful clouds allowed some moonlight to filter through and show where they were going.

  Marcus led her round to the back of the vegetable garden, stopping once with the softest of shushing sounds.

  They stood in the darker shadow of a shed while a man went striding past them, clearly checking out the rear gardens. Serena couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen or heard them, couldn’t work out either how Marcus had known someone was coming. When he tugged her forward again, she went willingly because she trusted him absolutely.

  They came to a huge tree at one side of the orchard and he led her round the back of it. “Stand still.” He bent close to whisper in her ear. “We need to climb up a rope ladder. There’s an old platform up there that I built when I was a lad. They’ll not know about it. When I let the ladder down I’ll go up first to check it’s safe. It’ll not have been used for years. Keep hold of the bottom of the ladder. When I shake it, follow me up. Watch how I climb it. There’s a trick to rope ladders.”

  Her eyes were well enough accustomed to the dark to see that he went up the ladder from what she thought of as the side, putting his legs on either side of the end rope, not treating it like a normal ladder. She felt very vulnerable as the dark mass of him moved upwards away from her.

  Suddenly the rope ladder shook in her hands. For a moment or two she froze, terrified at the thought of climbing up into the darkness. What if she fell? What if one of their pursuers caught her halfway up?

  The ladder sho
ok again and she drew a deep breath. Kilting her skirts up, she set her feet on the ladder as he had. But she found it hard going and could only climb slowly, fumbling for each new rung, clutching the rope tightly in hands that were sweating with fear.

  Then she bumped into something and Marcus grasped her hands, half-lifting her upwards on to a small platform.

  “Stand perfectly still.” He began to haul up the ladder and when he had the bottom end he took the time to roll it up and push the roll into a crevice. Then he turned and put his arms round her.

  “That’s my brave girl.”

  She leaned against him, not trying to hide her trembling, needing to have him hold her. When he planted a kiss on her forehead, she looked up with a gasp and he kissed her lips quickly.

  His voice was low. “No time for that now, pleasant though it is. We’d be better lying down. In summer the leaves hide the platform. In winter, it can be seen among the branches.”

  So they lay down and once again she found herself in his arms. It felt so right to nestle against him, so wonderfully right. She shivered, because she wasn’t wearing a coat and it was a cold night. “I should have given you my coat,” he muttered and pulled her even more tightly against him.

  Rain began falling and he cursed under his breath, but fortunately it turned out to be a light shower only. Men were still quartering the gardens, hunting for them, and lights were showing now in both the Lodge and the Hall. But Serena didn’t care. Marcus’s arms were round her and in their warm strength she felt that nothing could touch her.

  Then a voice bellowed, “Hoy! Who’s there? This is the police. Show yourselves.”

  “Constable Yedhill,” he whispered. “Vic and Pearl must have got through safely.”

  The heavy footsteps moved towards the house and the constable yelled, “Stop, you! You’re under arrest.”

  Marcus chuckled. “Those villains will be terrified.”

  There was the sound of a motor starting up, feet pounding down the drive, then doors slammed and a vehicle drove off.

  “I suppose we can go back down again now,” he whispered against her ear.

  From near the house Vic called, “Marcus! Where are you? It’s safe to come out now.”

  Serena pressed against him, not wanting to leave his arms.

  “We have to go now,” he said. “Come on, love. Stand up.”

  She did so reluctantly and as lanterns began to move through the gardens, Marcus said, “I’ll go down first and hold the ladder for you.”

  She had a moment of near panic as she sat on the edge of the platform and had to force herself to swing round and fumble for the rope ladder, but the panic passed and by moving slowly and carefully she got herself down.

  “Just a minute.” Marcus did something with a piece of string that had the ladder rolling up again, then he put his arm round her shoulders and they made their way to the house. Even when they rejoined the others he kept his arm round her shoulders and she wanted it there. Where was the independence she’d longed for? She smiled wryly and stole a glance at him, loving his determined air, his ability to get others to do what he wanted without her father’s nastiness . . .

  She realised that they’d reached Constable Yedhill and forced herself to pay attention to what he was saying as they all went inside the kitchen.

  He was incensed that such lawless behaviour could take place on his territory, but Marcus soothed him down. “They’ll be watching out for us going back into Tinsley, I’m afraid,” he ended. “And they’ll try to stop us there.”

  The constable goggled at him. “In daylight? In England?”

  “Yes. They’re desperate men.”

  “Do you know who they are, sir?”

  “I have my suspicions but until I can prove something, I’d best keep them to myself. We don’t want anyone suing us for slander, do we? And rich men have a lot of ways of getting what they want.”

  The constable looked from one to the other and pursed his lips. “I reckon I know who you’re referring to, sir.”

  “Yes, I thought you would. Please keep it under your hat for now. The man in question is trying to stop me marrying Serena and is also claiming that she’s mentally incompetent.”

  There was silence, then the old man said quietly in a voice very unlike his usual hearty tone,

  “We all know he’s a tricky fellow, so you’d better get her away from here as quickly as you can.

  I’m only a constable and I don’t always have the power to do what I think right.”

  Marcus shook his hand. “Thank you.” Then he turned to Serena again. “I think you and I should catch the milk train into Manchester and get married as soon as we can. The next attempt to get control of you may prevent our marrying.”

  “May I offer you both my best wishes for a long and happy time together.” The constable’s tone was so grandfatherly and his smile so broad that Serena had a sudden urge to laugh, even though they were still in danger.

  “Come on.” Marcus tugged her arm.

  “I’d prefer to escort you to the station myself, sir, see you safely on the train.”

  “That would draw too much attention to ourselves and . . . ” Marcus’s grin was suddenly full of mischief. “It just occurred to me that if you escorted Vic and Pearl to the police station, dressed in our clothes, hiding their faces, Serena and I might stand a better chance of getting away without anyone noticing us. We’ll have to hurry, though, because I still can’t walk fast.”

  Constable Yedhill puffed out his chest a little. “I think I can help you there, sir. Jack Dabney takes his milk to the station in the next village so that he can call and see his mother and he goes right past the end of your drive. He’s a good friend of mine and I’m sure he’d give you a lift if I asked him. You can catch a train in the opposite direction to Tinsley then.”

  “Excellent idea. Serena, how quickly can you pack?”

  “I haven’t unpacked.”

  “If you could lend Pearl something to wear . . . I’ll go and get my things together at the Lodge and Vic can wear some of my clothes. Constable, could you bring the ladies to the end of the drive as soon as they’re ready? Vic and I will meet you there.”

  In the bedroom, Serena looked at Pearl and shivered. “I can’t believe what happened tonight.”

  “Never mind that. And remember tomorrow to buy something pretty to wear. You don’t want to wear that horrible thing for your wedding, do you?”

  Chapter 7

  Marcus and Serena waited near the end of the drive then climbed on board the milk float and let a grinning Jack Dabney cover them with a blanket.

  “I feel a fool,” Marcus muttered as the blanket, which smelled rather strongly of horse, came down over them.

  “As long as we get away safely.”

  “You have your birth certificate and all that?”

  “You’ve already asked me and the answer was yes. It still is.”

  “Sorry.”

  Jack reined in a little way from the station at Lower Horton and they climbed down, then he waved to them and clicked to his horse to move on.

  Before they arrived at the station, Serena stopped. “Here, let me tidy you up.” She reached up to pull a piece of straw off Marcus’s lapel, then walked round him, brushing off other pieces of debris, after which he did the same to her.

  The stationmaster had to open up the ticket office for them. “We don’t usually get people taking this train,” he said chattily. “Too early for most folk, this is.”

  “Family emergency,” Marcus said. “We need to get to Manchester.”

  When they were on the train, he turned to Serena. “I don’t intend to go as far as Manchester.

  I’ve an old friend in Oldham who’ll help us. Will you trust me?”

  She had no need to think about that. “Of course.”

  Constable Yedhill walked into Horton, carrying the suitcase for “Miss Fleming” while Vic walked beside them, trying to limp very slightly in the same way Ma
rcus did. He thought he passed someone keeping watch in the shadows, but wasn’t sure.

  Once they were inside the police station Pearl asked, “What happens now?”

  “We have a cup of tea,” the constable said firmly. “And we wait. I don’t know if you two noticed but there was someone watching us from the doorway of the village shop.

  “I saw him,” Vic said. “I’m just hoping it was too dark for him to realise we’re not Marcus and Serena.”

  “I find it hard to believe they’ll come after you here, though,” the constable said, lighting his gas ring and setting the kettle on it.

  Just as dawn was breaking there was a hammering on the door of the police station. The three looked at one another.

  “Well, I’ll be blowed! The impudence of them!” The constable drew himself up, seeming almost to swell with indignation. “Why don’t you two go into the back room? No need to make things easy for them, is there?”

  “You’re a good egg, constable.” Vic followed Pearl through the door at rear of the public area.

  Left to himself, Constable Yedhill was guilty of the small vanity of peering in the mirror and checking that his appearance was in order. Let them wait till he was ready! Who did they think they were, treating the law like this?

  Only when the third round of knocking began did he open the door a little.

  The man outside tried to push it fully open, but Reginald Yedhill was made of sterner stuff.

  “Stop that this minute!” he roared, shoving the man so hard he staggered to one side. “Who do you think you are, trying to push a police officer around?”

  Mr Fleming moved forward, saying smoothly, “I apologise for my man’s eagerness, Sergeant.”

  “Constable.”

  “Constable, then. My man was simply trying to help, knowing how worried I am about my poor deluded daughter.”

 

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