Lord Satan

by Judith Laik

  “Oh, you are not ready for our ride,” Edwina exclaimed when she saw Libbetty wearing an ordinary round gown. Her lips tightened, and she gave no hint she was embarrassed about her dereliction two nights before.

  “I’ll wait while you change,” she said. She sat, appearing interested as Libbetty’s next-younger sister Catherine stumbled over her exercise upon the pianoforte.

  As she had some questions for Edwina, anyway, Libbetty quickly went to don her riding habit. She wasted no time once they were on their way. “What happened to you the other night?”

  “Oh, Libbetty, I could not get away. My mother caught me leaving my chamber. She must have had second sight about my plans, for she never gets up after retiring for the night. I had to say I was merely going to the kitchen for some warm milk.”

  “Your mother saw you in Freddy’s clothes?” Libbetty had lent some of her younger brother’s discarded clothing to Edwina.

  “Oh, no, I wasn’t wearing his clothes. It would not be proper for me to wear trousers! I wore an older gown of mine, quite dark and inconspicuous. Luckily I could put it on by myself. Maman made a huge fuss over me and said it was my broken heart over Cauldreigh’s neglect that had stolen my sleep. I didn’t dare try to sneak out again after that.”

  It was just as well Edwina’s cowardice had discouraged her from taking part in the raid on The Castle. As difficult as Libbetty had found the trek in male attire, she could not imagine negotiating the nighttime walk and the moat in skirts. Not to mention how she would have reacted to being caught. That didn’t bear thinking about. Edwina’s abilities as a conspirator were nonexistent.

  Hypnotized by the horse’s rocking gait, Libbetty’s thoughts inevitably turned to the devil in the guise of a man, Lord Neil. How could she prove his evil intent in time to save Cauldreigh?

  *

  Would Miss Bishop and Squire Hogwood’s daughter ride in the woods today? If it were any other girl than Miss Bishop he had caught a few nights ago, he would have said she would never come near The Castle again.

  The vicar’s chit was a different matter, though. He could still picture the look on her face—terrified, but she would have eaten that oversized fustian coat before she would admit as much.

  And Trevor, recovering but still confined to bed, had complained of boredom recently. Neil had the happy thought of granting the two girls’ heartfelt desires and bringing them back to meet Trevor if he happened to encounter them today.

  *

  Lost in reflection, Libbetty recoiled when a horse bounded onto the road from a side path directly in front of them.

  Lord Neil. Of course.

  Libbetty sucked in her breath. What would he do, after catching her in The Castle the other night?

  However, he gave no sign of the fury she had seen on that occasion. The more usual taunting expression animated his face as he swept them a bow, restraining the mount, which pawed the ground and snorted restlessly. A buff-colored riding coat fitted snugly across his broad shoulders. “Well, hello. The two visitors from the polar region, are you not? How do you fare on this warm day?”

  “Indeed, we find it unpleasantly warm,” Libbetty snapped, her vexation increased by the reminder of her previous faux pas.

  Edwina simpered at him. “How is your nephew, your lordship? We have missed him at church.”

  Lord Neil’s dark, pirate’s face scowled. Libbetty’s heart seemed to miss its beat at his ominous expression. Visibly, he restrained himself and the ironic look returned. “Trevor? He is much improved, thank you, Miss, er, Hogwood. Fortunately, I finally persuaded him to do what he should have done at the beginning—stay in bed until he completely recovers. But he insisted on rising despite my warnings, with sad results as you no doubt have heard.” He smiled.

  Did he confess, in this roundabout way, to responsibility for Cauldreigh’s accident? Her heart thudded heavily.

  He looked only at Edwina, however, saying, “Actually, I hoped you ladies would grant me a boon, since you so kindly inquired after my nephew’s health. He has been sadly moped with only my poor company for his convalescence. It would cheer him to have two such lovely ladies call on him. Could I prevail upon you to perform such an act of charity?”

  Libbetty glanced at Edwina, who paled, showing his mockery registered on her. Edwina did not reply, so Libbetty answered, “I’m sure we would be happy to call upon Lord Cauldreigh some afternoon,” and reined her horse about, feeling Lord Neil’s deep gaze, full of triumph, upon her.

  “Could you not accompany me to The Castle now?”

  She paused. He had presented them a difficult choice: either to accept his “invitation” or slink away in defeat. They couldn’t go to The Castle now. It would be most improper for two unchaperoned young ladies. She stole a glance at Edwina and read dismay and irresolution. She prepared to refuse when she heard her companion say in a breathless voice, “Will it not be inconvenient, sir?”

  He laughed. “Indeed not. I assure you Trevor will be delighted to welcome you.”

  Chapter Five

  He led the way through the forest, glancing back from time to time as if he doubted Libbetty and Edwina would follow him. An image of the children of Hamelin being led to their doom arose in Libbetty’s mind, though of course without the piping.

  Libbetty cast a reproachful look towards Edwina. The other girl met her gaze defiantly, her cheeks colored bright. After all, she had talked about wanting this opportunity for weeks, and no doubt Mrs. Hogwood would never forgive her if she failed to seize the chance.

  Libbetty straightened her spine. She hadn’t told Edwina what had occurred when she and Alonso had sneaked into The Castle, so the other girl couldn’t know what terrors it held for Libbetty. Even then, she had intended to go back, so now she would face her fate bravely, like Marie Antoinette. What if Lord Neil intended to end the nuisance the girls represented? Were the dungeons with which Lord Neil had threatened her and Alonso real?

  The Castle’s appearance bore out Libbetty’s memories. Of course, she had seen it many times before the Coltons had taken up their current residence. Then she merely thought it picturesque and romantic. Now it appeared entirely sinister, a delight for the gothic authors whose works she had covertly obtained from Edwina.

  They approached the medieval face, with two square Norman towers and a rampart, all built of stone aged to black. The crumbling, dilapidated appearance brought back all too clearly the feel of that same stone under Libbetty’s fingers as she had crept alongside the wall two nights past. Would her courage have failed her if it had been daylight and she could have seen how fragile that section of The Castle appeared? Still, she experienced a rush of triumph over her achievement.

  Lord Neil smirked at her as though he knew her thoughts. She scowled at him and tried to repress a shudder as they neared the ancient building. The half-fallen gateway appeared ready to collapse as they rode through.

  “Don’t you like The Castle, Miss Bishop?” Lord Neil asked.

  “It does not appear safe.”

  He laughed. “You are right. Now that Trevor is recuperating, repairs to the old ruin will begin. I could not risk the workmen’s noise disturbing him before. But the living quarters are in better condition, and I promise you that no stones will fall on your head.”

  Taking a deep breath, she urged the Hogwood horse through the gate and along an arched passage into a vast courtyard. From here, one could see the whole of The Castle. Straight ahead loomed the Palladian addition, built some hundred years before of slate gray stone, the Tudor wing to the left, and to the right a section built in late medieval times.

  “This old pile needs almost constant care or it falls apart,” Lord Neil observed. “It hardly seems worth the effort, save that it is Trevor’s legacy. He seems recently to have decided he cares for the place.”

  She gaped at him. His voice softened as he spoke of his nephew. It seemed a contradiction to the man who had looked at her with murder in his eyes.

  They
dismounted at the stables. Edwina had not spoken since accepting the invitation. Libbetty glanced at her pale face and trembling lips, then forgot her, fascinated with The Castle.

  She noted that the courtyard had begun as a medieval bailey, with all the necessities to withstand a siege: a well, vegetable gardens, and even fruit trees that grew within the walls of The Castle. Details of medieval life had impressed themselves strongly upon her during her father’s lessons. That age contained danger and adventure, more appealing to her than the present staid time.

  She could not decide whether the garden and orchard were affectation—an attempt to preserve the glory of those medieval lords—or respect for the traditions of the ancient building. Whatever the purpose, the later additions did not contribute to the effect. She would not quibble about minor points, however as the romantic aspect of The Castle appealed to her.

  Libbetty had little time to look around as grooms came running out to take their horses. Lord Neil led them across the courtyard and through the back door into the newest wing. At the time of the Palladian addition, a drive had been constructed at the opposite side from their approach through the woods. Most callers arrived by the newer drive and entrance.

  They entered a tall-ceilinged, airy hallway, with a narrow stairway on their left, the servants’ stairs. They continued along a passageway, undoubtedly the same one she and Alonso had traversed, to the main entrance hall. Libbetty stifled a gasp. Although she recognized the hall from her nocturnal visit, the inadequate light had made it impossible to see much.

  Italian marble floors and columns took her eye first, then the room’s vast size—larger than the nave of her father’s church, and nearly as cavernous as Worcester Cathedral. Three or four stories above her was a plaster-carved ceiling, the details of which she could not identify from the ground floor.

  A middle-aged woman came out through the tall doors on the other side of the room and stopped short on seeing them.

  “Mrs. Browning,” Lord Neil said. “We have callers for Lord Cauldreigh. Will you see them to a room where they may refresh themselves before I bring them to Trevor?”

  Libbetty did not know in what way they were expected to “refresh themselves.” Were their appearances that disgraceful? The girls followed Mrs. Browning as she led them two flights up the curved stairway and along an angling passage.

  The woman did not speak to the girls, but left them at a bedchamber door, pointing that they should enter, and hurried back in the direction they had come.

  The girls stared at each other.

  “Do you suppose she is mute?” Libbetty said.

  Edwina shrugged. “How are we to refresh ourselves?”

  “I don’t know.”

  They burst into a fit of giggles. “This cannot be as dire as it appears,” Libbetty said when they had sobered.

  They entered the room, leaving the door ajar. A perfectly appointed lady’s bedchamber met their eyes. In the center stood a graceful oaken four-poster bed with a white lace canopy and coverlet, and a matching wardrobe in a corner. More lace hung at two tall, leaded glass windows, with heavier drapes of pale blue brocade.

  Edwina stood staring around of the room, a frown crinkling the porcelain perfection of her forehead.

  A bureau and a lady’s dressing table stood against the opposite wall, with two curving chairs set nearby for callers watching the lady at her toilette.

  Libbetty sat in the chair before the dressing table. She fingered the casual disarray of articles laid there as though the owner might return any time. Who was the lady?

  Rising, she walked about, picking up objects to inspect bemusedly and setting them down again. She touched the white lace coverlet, pushed to test the bed’s softness, and imagined herself the lady sleeping in the elegant room. Lord Neil’s guest, his attentions showered upon her.

  What was she thinking? Lord Neil was a monster, a would-be murderer. She supposed the tranquility of her life made it difficult to imagine such evil, but she must never allow herself to forget what he really was.

  Edwina stood stiffly at first, then began to circle the room herself, touching the brocade draperies, the dark-grained wood of the wardrobe.

  A young chambermaid appeared with a pitcher of warm water and poured it into the basin on the bureau, saying, “His lordship will call for you shortly,” then departed.

  “Well, I guess they meant for us to do this,” Libbetty said, dipping her fingers in the water, and splashing some on her face. She patted herself dry with a towel, and Edwina followed suit.

  “Do you suppose we are ‘refreshed’?” Libbetty looked doubtfully in the mirror, smoothing out her shabby riding habit, and regretting her unfashionable appearance in her old brown silk bonnet. She and Edwina giggled again, but the nervous strain showed in their voices.

  “I do not think I have ever been so frightened in my life,” confessed Edwina.

  “I’m sure we will be fine.” Libbetty opened the door and looked out. “Are we supposed to wait here until someone comes for us?” As she spoke, Lord Neil opened a door farther along the corridor. Their eyes met, and Libbetty had to restrain an impulse to back hastily into the room and slam the door.

  The satirical smile appeared on his face. “Ah, Miss Bishop. Are you ladies ready? Do come in.” He gave a sweeping bow indicating the room behind him.

  Apprehensively, she stepped out of the room and walked toward him, trying to peek around him, but his body blocked her view. Edwina shrank behind her.

  “Well?” Lord Neil said.

  He was toying with them again, playing upon their fears. Defiantly , Libbetty looped her arm through Edwina’s and marched past him, the other girl in tow. Lord Neil stepped aside to let them enter.

  The chamber was furnished as a sitting room, part of the master suite, originally a boudoir for the lady of the house. As no chatelaine lived in The Castle, the room had been redecorated to masculine tastes. Drawn up near the fireplace, a pair of lattice-back armchairs had smoking stands beside them. A mahogany gaming table with two matching chairs stood in one corner of the room.

  In contrast, the graceful, low-backed sofa on which the room’s occupant reposed appeared appropriated from a lady’s apartment elsewhere. A low table in front contained a chess game already begun.

  The marquess toyed idly with the ivory chess pieces, his slender hands hinting of restless energy. Although his pallor betrayed his recent illness, the handsome, mobile face gazing up at his callers reinforced the impression of vitality held in check. He wore a dressing robe of deep burgundy Chinese brocade, and a quilt covered him from chest down. Libbetty tilted her head to better appreciate the romantic picture he presented—the wounded hero.

  Lord Neil’s resonant voice came from behind the girls. “These are the two angels of mercy I told you about, Trevor, come to relieve your tedium.”

  The marquess flushed. “Dash it all, Uncle Neil, I didn’t mean to complain.”

  In a gentler tone, the older man replied, “I know you did not, halfling. If you were complaining, I would not be obliged to succor you. May I present Miss Bishop, the vicar’s daughter, and Miss Hogwood, the daughter of Squire Hogwood and his lady.”

  Lord Cauldreigh grinned, engagingly boyish. “This is famous. You don’t know what a dead bore it is lying in bed day after day for weeks.” He glanced up, half-apologetic, at his uncle, and went on, “Won’t you stay awhile and talk to me?” He stared at the chairs, and Lord Neil, with an exaggerated sigh, pulled them closer.

  Edwina sat down without further prompting. Libbetty watched with misgiving the expression on her friend’s shining face. The older girl already seemed halfway to an infatuation with the marquess.

  “I’ll leave you young folks to become acquainted. I’ll send someone in with refreshments.” With a bow, Lord Neil left.

  The withdrawal of his magnetic presence left a void in the room. Libbetty resented his dismissive tone. He as much as said, “I’ll leave you children to play.”

&nbs
p; An awkward silence fell. Now that Edwina had attained her object of meeting the marquess, she had nothing to say. She gazed at Lord Cauldreigh, who looked at each girl in turn, as if he would fall in love with both.

  Since the others seemed unlikely to take a hand in easing the awkwardness, Libbetty said, “You appear much improved in health since we saw you a few weeks ago, Lord Cauldreigh.”

  “Yes, I was in bad case then. But now my cursed—er, I mean, my leg has almost healed, and my fever has entirely gone. That fever hung on all through the fall last year, kept me from being at full strength through the campaign. Nearly did me in during the retreat to Corunna.

  “Then I took the bullet in the leg in the battle. Nearly crushed my thighbone. I was lucky not to lose the leg. Doctors still say I may have a limp for the rest of my life, but I won’t, you may be sure. I must go back to the Peninsula.

  “After I was wounded the fever took such a hold on me, they thought for sure I was done for. I fooled them all, though. It’s been confoundedly hard, I’ll tell you, for someone who’s used to activity.”

  “Oh, yes, I can imagine. But now that you may have callers, perhaps the time may pass more pleasantly.” Libbetty paused to allow Edwina a chance. She still seemed tongue-tied, however.

  Libbetty went on, “Once you have fully recovered, you may inspect your estate and see to matters here. Your properties have been much neglected in your absence.”

  “Surely not. Reynolds is an excellent steward.”

  “In no way do I mean to disparage him, your lordship. But the owner of a property rather than his agent must make some decisions, and Mr. Reynolds has a fear of spending your money for repairs.” She stopped, remembering the accident the marquess had suffered because of the dilapidated state of The Castle, and afraid she had offended him by seeming to refer to it.

  However a bored expression crossed his face. “Uncle Neil has all that in hand. I’ve no intention of wasting my time on business while I’m on leave.”