“It’s the dining room,” Simeon replied. “So far, we have passed the morning room back there. Now we are at the dining room next door.”
They lapsed into silence while they turned a corner into yet another endless corridor.
“These corridors do prove one thing,” Simeon whispered after several moments of shuffling along in silence.
“What’s that?” Eloisa breathed.
“Whoever our intruder is, he has used these corridors a lot.” He bent down to show Eloisa the tracks on the dusty floor beneath their feet.
“Recently too,” Eloisa whispered. She lifted her candle and pointed to several damaged cobwebs which hung in thick, useless clumps against the wall. Her heart lurched when something unusual further down the corridor caught her eye.
“What’s that down there?” She whispered as she pointed to a faint beam of light up ahead.
“Keep quiet,” he warned. “Stay close.” He didn’t wait for her to reply and tip-toed quietly down the corridor in the direction of the soft thumps that were coming from inside one of the rooms. Thankfully, Eloisa didn’t seem inclined to let him venture far without her. He didn’t need to stop, or slow down, to know that she was directly behind him. Her fingers were clutching the back of his shirt so tightly that he was positive the material was going to rip any time now.
“Which room is it?” She breathed into his ear when he stopped and peered into the room.
“It is the corridor to the servants’ quarters,” Simeon replied.
He desperately tried to ignore the feel of her against his back. Every dip and hollow was pressed lovingly against him so temptingly that he almost groaned as his body shivered with awareness. When he eased the door open, he watched and waited but couldn’t initially see anyone. Moments later, his patience was rewarded when a solitary figure appeared in the hallway.
Dressed from head to foot in black, the man who emerged from the side room was a macabre sight indeed. The intruder had his back to Simeon, which prevented him from seeing any distinguishing features, but his stature was vaguely familiar.
“Do you see him?”
Simeon’s gaze remained on his quarry. He held a hand up to warn her to be quiet and watched as the intruder wrestled with a huge painting. Although he couldn’t see which painting it was, he suspected it was the one that was missing out of the dining room. He watched as it disappeared into a small storage room that the servants used to use. A cold wave of anger swept through him as the intruder locked the door and pocketed the key. He turned to look at Eloisa but noticed that the intruder was heading toward them.
“Quick, put the candles out,” he blew hard, and ignored Eloisa’s instinctive protest when they were immediately encased in blackness.
He cursed his foolishness when he realised that they had no way of seeing anything now. They were going to struggle to find a way out of the corridor now, and would have to rely on the intruder’s candle to be able to get back into the main building. Unfortunately, it was too late to do anything about it now, because the door in front of them started to open.
Simeon bit back a curse, and only just managed to shuffle Eloisa out of the way before the intruder appeared ahead of them. The urge to lunge at him was so strong that Simeon looked down at the poker Eloisa still held. It was only the need to protect her that kept his fingers tight on the handle of the candlestick instead.
He contemplated what to do. The corridor was deathly quiet. Not even the winds outside could be heard through the thick stone walls. It was going to be impossible to follow the man without drawing his attention to their presence. Everything within him was screaming at him to get out of the corridor and make sure that Eloisa was safe, but he just couldn’t leave his quarry now that he had him in sight.
Unless they wanted to be left in the hidden corridor, in the dark, with no way out, they had no choice but to follow the man. Simeon’s blood boiled as he watched the intruder contemplate the door that led to the study. He didn’t even bother to check behind him before he released a catch on the wall beside the door, placed his candle carefully on the floor, and disappeared into the room. Thankfully, he didn’t close the door behind him, and there was enough of a gap for Simeon to be able to watch the odious sneak-thief take a seat behind the desk. He began to rifle through the contents of the drawers so confidently that it was clear he had no qualms about being caught. Or was arrogant enough to assume that he could handle any challenge Simeon or Eloisa might pose easily.
“What’s he doing?” Eloisa gasped when she couldn’t stand the suspense a moment longer.
“Rifling through my papers,” Simeon growled. The urge to stomp into the room was so strong that he actually teetered on the balls of his feet.
“What’s he looking for?”
Rather than answer her, Simeon took advantage of the opportunity to study the man sitting facing him. He scowled at the features behind the big, bushy beard. The jagged scar down the right side of the man’s face distorted his features somewhat but he was definitely familiar. The stitching of the scarred flesh had been done haphazardly to say the very least and had left a wound that was pock-marked and uneven. The black patch the man wore undoubtedly covered the empty eye socked and, when combined with the scraggly hair and unkempt beard, gave him a vagabond look that was completely at odds with the rather arrogant way he carried himself.
He was the type of man who could sit in the street as an old war hero, and beg for scraps to live for another day, and nobody would pay any particular attention to him. Simeon couldn’t help but wonder if that was why the image had been cultivated; so he could blend in and not be noticed.
One thing he did know for definite now was that the intruder was most not one of Uncle George’s staff.
So, who was he then? What did he want? Was he an opportunist thief who had fallen upon hard times and was taking advantage of the unoccupied castle to furnish his empty purse? That possibility was looking more and more likely. Simeon would have believed it too, if the man hadn’t looked up and given him a flash of his now deceased uncle.
“It can’t be,” Simeon whispered. Stunned disbelief warred with confusion as he stared at the familiar face.
“What can’t be?” Eloisa’s voice, although still a whisper, was filled with impatience. “Who is it?”
Simeon realised then that she was still waiting for him to speak.
“We need to wait and see if he takes any papers. Then we need to follow him. I want to know where he is keeping the things he is stealing.”
At the moment, the intruder’s head was lowered over one of the drawers in the desk, and Simeon was prevented from taking another good look at his face. What he had seen though had shocked him to the core. He shook his head in disbelief and studied that bent head while he tried to work out dates, times, places. He wracked his memory for details of the letters he had received from his uncle, but still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. When he turned to speak to her, a sudden rustling noise from within the room drew his attention. He cursed when he saw the man circle the desk and hurry toward them.
“Move back,” he whispered, and dragged her into the darkness, only to find that they were already at the end of the corridor. There was nowhere else they could go except back down the long corridor, which had no place to hide in.
The door was pushed open before either of them could move.
Simeon planted himself firmly in front of Eloisa and braced himself.
“Well, well, well,” he growled as he launched into the room, the poker held aloft threateningly. He almost slammed into the intruder, who was already in the doorway, but didn’t need to see him again.
“Simeon,” the intruder gasped. His eyes widened and he backed warily into the room as Simeon advanced on him.
Simeon knew, as soon as he heard that voice, exactly who his intruder was, but still couldn’t quite believe it. His eyes met the intruder’s for several stunned moments. Both men hesitated as a wealth of understanding swept through them. Th
e intruder knew that he had been seen, and his scheme was now ruined beyond redemption, however wasn’t prepared to give up without a fight. Before Simeon could speak, the man spun around and raced for the door.
“Come back here,” Simeon shouted as he chased after him. “You can’t hide from me now.”
He didn’t bother to glance back or wait for Eloisa to catch up, and was only vaguely aware of the quiet click of the door behind him as he raced after his quarry.
Eloisa watched the door start to swing closed. She clawed at it with desperate fingers but it was too heavy for her to hold. Within seconds she was encased in darkness.
“Simeon?” she cried, as she pushed at the panels on the door desperately. “Simeon?”
Thankfully, although Simeon had knocked the candle over when he had launched into the study, it had not been extinguished. She lifted it and began to search around the door for a way to get into the study, and out of the cold and draughty corridor. It was horrible to even look at the suffocating blackness behind her. The thought of having to go back down there all by herself made her feel sick. She just couldn’t do it; she had to get into the room.
“Please, Simeon?” She thumped the door but knew he had left her. Even through the thick stone walls, she could hear him yell at the intruder that he knew him. His voice was faint and undoubtedly came from another part of the house as he chased after the intruder.
“Keep calm, keep calm, keep calm,” she chanted aloud. The sound of her own voice did little to solve her problem, but it did help her focus on getting herself out of there.
She glanced down at her feet and wondered if she should go back to the servant’s corridor. She couldn’t remember Simeon closing the door there, and it might just be the way out she so desperately needed. After several moments of careful study, she still couldn’t see a lever she could use to get the door to the study open and so gave up. She could wait for Simeon to notice she wasn’t where she was supposed to be, but couldn’t bear the thought of being found by the intruder instead. There really was nothing else she could do except retrace her steps again.
After a deep, fortifying breath, she squared her shoulders, kept her eyes dead ahead, and marched toward the thin shaft of light that was barely visible.
“Thank heavens for that,” she whispered when the door to the servants’ quarters came into view. It was still slightly ajar having not been latched properly when they had left it.
She almost wept with relief when she stepped into the bright light of the servants’ hallway. The distant sound of running footsteps accompanied by vicious curses echoed hollowly around the walls, but it was impossible to know if they were coming toward her, or heading away.
With nothing else to do, she hurriedly tried to find her way back to the study. Unfortunately, one corridor turned into the next, until she was thoroughly lost and confused. Silence, and her own thoughts, were her only companions; accompanied only by the high winds that continued to howl hauntingly around the huge building she wandered through.
“Simeon?” she called, but got no answer. “Where are you Simeon?” she asked quietly as she studied her surroundings. The corridor she was in had six doors in it. She knew that if she wanted to find a way to the study, she first had to identify where she was.
“What’s in here?” she whispered to herself. She felt incredibly foolish talking to herself, but it helped her feel not quite so alone.
She studied the empty, oak panelled room before her with disinterest then quietly closed the door and moved on to the next room.
The second door opened with long, low squeak which sounded loud in the silence of the corridor. There was nobody but her around to hear it though. She tentatively peered into the room only to sigh in consternation to find that empty as well. Although it had been more lavishly decorated than the first room, it was still devoid of all trace of life, and bare of furniture, paintings and the like.
“What’s going on?” she asked when she opened the door to another room, which appeared to be smaller than the rest, and found it stacked full to the rafters of what appeared to be the contents of the other two rooms combined.
She wandered absently into the room and studied the portraits, candelabras, ornaments and family heirlooms stacked neatly into piles according to size.
“Good Lord,” she whispered as she stroked one chilled finger along a candlestick, and studied the faces in the portraits. The room appeared to be an old sitting room of some kind with French doors to one side which opened out into the gardens at the rear of the house. She mentally placed where she was and knew that the study was on the opposite side of the house, but how could she get there?
She studied the contents of the room for a moment. Were these the items Simeon thought had been stolen? She frowned at that. They hadn’t been stolen though because they were still in the house. Nobody had taken them anywhere. Why had they been stacked together like this though, and by who? Were they intended for storage?
What on earth is going on? She mused. With more questions than answers, she tried to memorise the layout of the garden so she could find the room again and made her way to the door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Argh!”
She screamed when she pulled the door open and looked into the dark, feral eyes of the intruder. Dressed head to foot in black, he was a sight that was nothing short of evil.
“Seen enough?” he growled darkly as the seconds ticked by but neither of them moved.
Eloisa swallowed. “Where’s Simeon?” she whispered. “What have you done with him?”
She realised then that she still clutched the poker. Her fingers tightened around the handle and she eased it behind her skirt so he couldn’t see it. She backed away as far as she could when the man curled his lip and began to creep toward her. Once inside the room, he stopped and studied her.
“Who are you?” she whispered with a frown. “I have seen you somewhere before.”
“It isn’t any business of yours,” the man growled.
She stared at him as she listened. Although his words were rude and churlish, they were spoken in a voice that was as cultured as Simeon’s. Indeed, if it wasn’t for the man’s dark garb, he could have been Simeon. There was something in his dark eyes; eyes that almost the same as Simeon’s that warned her he was a relation of some kind.
“It involves me when you are trying to murder me,” she declared flatly. Her eyes narrowed, and she tipped her chin up defiantly. “I have seen you somewhere before; when you were throwing stone objects at me that could kill me.”
He smirked and threw her a dismissive glance that was more than a little patronising. Eloisa wasn’t about to be thwarted though and whirled to face him when he stalked arrogantly past her into the room.
“You are a thief,” Eloisa snapped.
“I am no thief,” he challenged.
“You don’t own this house and shouldn’t be here,” she argued. “Not only that, but you have been moving these items around the house that aren’t yours to touch.”
“You are presuming a lot, little lady,” the intruder growled. “Who says I moved them?”
Eloisa stared at him. “Well, they hardly walked here by themselves, did they? Simeon hasn’t ordered them to be moved and, given that he has inherited the house, and its contents, he is the one who should decide where they go, not you.”
“Shut your mouth,” the man ordered. His eyes slid up and down her lithe frame insultingly. “You are nothing more than one of Simeon’s floozies. How dare you have the audacity to come in here and tell me what to do? You are nothing but a little trollop, the likes of which Simeon will undoubtedly grow tired of, just like all the rest.”
Eloisa felt a flash of jealousy surge through her at the thought of Simeon bringing another woman to the house, ostensibly to have an affair with her.
“I am not his floozy. I am merely here because -” Somehow, she didn’t want to explain to this man why she was in the house, and lapsed into stoic si
lence. This only drew his mirth because his lips curled into a derogatory smirk. He threw her another insulting look and quite pointedly turned his back on her as if to tell her that she had nothing to say that he was interested in listening to.
Eloisa’s gaze dropped to his hands. They were clenching rhythmically as he sauntered almost absently around the room; a sure sign that he wasn’t as confident as he was trying to appear. She glanced at the doorway and wondered if she could get through it before he caught her but she couldn’t bring herself to try.
“What do you plan to do with it all now that you have moved it in here? It is going to take a lot of carts and horses to get that lot out of here, isn’t it?” She swallowed a squeal when he whirled on her again.
“It’s nothing to do with you,” he growled.
He suddenly lunged toward her with a snarl of rage on his face, and continued to advance on her when she dodged out of the way. His clawed hands lifted toward her throat as he stalked her around the room.
The evil intent in his eye, together with the ruthless menace on his face, was enough to force her reluctant limbs into movement. She knew that the door was too far away for her to reach, and tried desperately to think of another way out. She couldn’t bring herself to turn her back on him, and back-stepped away from him until her back bumped against an item of furniture she couldn’t see. In that moment she knew she had little choice but to lift the poker. She squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could and waited for him to reach her. As soon as she felt his breath on her face, she brought her weapon down heavily on his head.
To her horror the heavy blow didn’t stop him. He threw himself at her again, this time with a steady trickle of blood oozing down his face. Eloisa stepped sideways and twisted around to keep herself out of reach. The fierce anger on his face warned her that this was a man who would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. She knew then that she had to take drastic measures if she wanted to get out of the room alive.
When he moved toward her again, she lifted the poker and tried to hit him a second time. He wasn’t prepared to be struck again though and yanked it out of her hands before she could strike him. He threw the poker casually across the room without taking his eyes off her and continued his advance.
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