by Rebecca King
Myles closed the door quietly and locked it before he motioned for her to stay where she was and searched the entire room. When he returned to her he drew her toward him, his hands bunched into the material of the blanket engulfing her.
Estelle stepped toward him willingly. She had no idea what his intentions were but wasn’t going to protest to any demands he placed upon her.
“You are safe in here. I will keep my gun with me, and won’t allow another living soul into this room. Tonight, there is just you and me,” he whispered. He rested his forehead against hers for several moments while he waited for her to protest. When she merely nodded and remained in his embrace, he swept her into his arms.
Estelle felt the softness of the bed beneath her. Nerves began to build as she waited for him to join her. To her surprise, he tucked the covers around her and lay onto the bed next to her before her gathered her into his arms.
“Are you not intending to er-” Her cheeks flamed at how wanton she sounded. Could she ask him if he was going to join her? She knew she shouldn’t.
He must think me terribly wanton already, she mused with a sigh.
“It would be a bit difficult for me to explain why the killer got away again if he did manage to get in here and I was wrapped up in the blankets with you, don’t you think?” Myles mused wryly.
He tried to put some humour into the situation because the need to join her beneath the sheets and eradicate the lingering fear in her eyes was so strong he knew he had to lie on the covers to stop himself from indulging in the needs of the flesh. Needs he knew he would regret later, not least because he wanted – needed – them to start their relationship on the proper footing. He had never ruined a young woman in his life and simply walked away and he wasn’t going to start with Estelle. He didn’t want her to have any regrets about them as a couple. More importantly, he didn’t want her to offer herself to him because she needed comfort.
It was going to be a test of his own forbearance he knew, but he contented himself with drawing her into his arms, blankets and all, and settling her against his shoulder while he listened to the clock ticking rhythmically into the silence.
It took several minutes before she began to relax in his arms, but whether she was asleep or not, he didn’t know. It didn’t matter. She was beside him. That was all that mattered.
All he had to do now was keep her that way.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The following morning, everything changed again. Estelle’s cheeks were aflame when she daringly followed Myles out of the bed chamber as close to noon as it was possible to get. She felt terribly wanton, and in spite of nothing of a more intimate nature happening. In spite of herself, she struggled to stem a giggle when Myles popped his head out of his door and looked up and down the hallway in search of guards with overly dramatic furtiveness.
“This is your house you know,” she teased.
Myles grinned at her unrepentantly. It was wonderful to hear her laugh. It was the first time he had heard that melodic sound and it was infectious. If he was honest, he felt ridiculously foolish behaving the way he was. She was right; this was his house. However, he didn’t want the servants to gossip about the new guest, especially given that they didn’t know she was going to be their new mistress at some point in the not too distant future. He had made his mind up on that fact during the night as he had lain upon the bed, wide awake, listening to the creaking of the house all about him. It had sounded like a coiled beast settling back into slumber. At first, he had been convinced he had heard footsteps in the hallway outside, but had put it down to his imagination. He had certainly no intention of leaving the room to find out. It was only when the clock had chimed and he had heard whispering that he had realised it was the footmen changing guard. At that point, something inside him had begun to relax and, in spite of the gun resting on the table beside the bed, he had relaxed enough to fall asleep.
Before he could open the door again, a heavy thudding sounded on it. His frown was deep when he yanked it open. It was only when his father’s surprised gaze landed on Estelle that he realised his mistake. Still, Barnabas was too preoccupied to protest.
“Something is wrong,” he declared flatly and without preamble.
Myles stared at his father and stepped back to allow him into the room. Barnabas only glanced momentarily at Estelle, but didn’t raise issue with the impropriety of her being in his son’s bed chamber in an unclothed state. That is, until his gaze landed on the red marks on her neck.
“What in the Devil happened to you? That reminds me, what was all that screaming last night? I locked my door as you said and sat down on the bed to wait but must have fallen asleep. What’s going on around here? Where is Isaac? Where is everyone? I cannot find Vernon either. He has gone to blazes.”
Myles stared at his father. He had never seen him so agitated and waited for several minutes for his father to vent the worst of his concerns before he lifted a hand to halt him.
“Slow down, father,” he murmured gently. “Now, I take it you cannot find Isaac or Vernon.” It wasn’t a question because his father had just said as much. Out of everything his father had just rambled on about, as far as Myles was concerned they were the two most important points, mainly because missing people often wound up dead. He closed his eyes on a silent prayer that neither man had been murdered, but knew they needed to locate them to be sure.
“Yes, I just said so, didn’t I?” His father snapped.
“Yes. Well, someone tried to kill Estelle last night. They tried to strangle her,” Myles explained. “Which is why I told you to lock your bed chamber door last night. I didn’t want to leave her again in case the killer came back.”
“It’s that blackguard, Isaac, that is who is doing this,” Barnabas grumbled.
Myles didn’t like the wild look in his father’s eye. When a particularly hard gust of wind howled relentlessly outside, Myles dug deep for his patience. His father was quintessentially an outdoors person. He didn’t take too well to having to sit around inside all day. Myles suspected that his agitation with the events unfolding about them would settle just as soon as Barnabas was able to take a walk in the fresh air. Until then, they just had to try to appease his father in some way, if only to stop him doing something rash through ill-temper.
“Have you checked Isaac’s room?” he asked peaceably, unsurprised by the sharpness of Barnabas’ response.
“Of course I have, you daft boy,” Barnabas snapped huffily. “He isn’t in there. Cranbury checked the room from top to bottom. There is no sign he even got into bed last night. His bed has not been slept in. The footmen haven’t seen any sign of him either.”
Myles, ignoring the slight scolding, sighed heavily. He issued Estelle with an apologetic look. She smiled her assurance that she didn’t mind one bit. In fact, she quite liked bearing witness to the domestic side to their relationship. It made them seem more like people and less like caricatures of pomposity. She realised then that she had put far too much emphasis on their wealth and title and had over-simplified the fact that they were in fact still people: people who did have a domestic life, and bickered occasionally. In fact, she had seen far more follies and foibles about this particular family that had made her own family life growing up seem perfectly staid and proper.
“Has the house been searched?” Myles asked.
“The footmen are doing it now. They have guns, Myles. Who in the blazes-?”
“I did,” Myles interrupted. “Last night someone tried to strangle Estelle from behind. They also stabbed Gerald in the back. Whoever this person is, they like to creep upon on people. Anyone who is unarmed won’t stand a chance. Any man with a gun can fire behind him. It isn’t difficult to do. It just means that the footmen aren’t putting themselves in too much danger when they are on guard, protecting people while they are asleep. While I am happy to place my faith in their capabilities, I will not have it on my conscience if one of them are killed protecting the family because th
ey were unarmed. I am sure you agree.”
Myles levelled a look on his father that dared him to deny it. Barnabas nodded, his face grim. He knew his son was right.
“Of course, you are right to do so,” Barnabas blustered. “I just wished to blazes it wasn’t necessary.”
“As we all do, I am sure, father,” Myles replied smoothly.
In spite of the seriousness of their conversation, Estelle felt her lips twitch as she watched Myles put his father firmly in his place. Not only had he taken command of the situation, indeed the entire household, but he had also soothed his father’s concerns in a swift and adept way that was exemplary, and left little room for argument. Mentally applauding him, Estelle smiled when he looked at her.
Myles blinked beneath that sunny smile, and felt something warm and tender flip over in the region of his chest. He knew then that he was well and truly sunk, even if last night hadn’t confirmed their future together. In his eyes, Estelle was now as much a part of him as his heart; she was his heart. He just couldn’t tell her just yet. He didn’t want her to have any misapprehension that he had ulterior motives. He had, but that ulterior motive was to persuade her to accept a lifetime together, in spite of the familial troubles the house was mired in right now.
She must think this house is full of lunatics, he mused wryly. However, had to acknowledge that if it wasn’t for the strange circumstances that had drawn them together he would most probably never have had the chance to spend this much time with her, and might have missed out on the only chance he would ever have in his life of finding true happiness.
“Excuse me, sir,” a maid said timidly from the doorway.
Estelle’s stomach sank to her toes when she saw the tears on the young girl’s face.
“It’s Miss Beatrice. You have to come and look,” she whispered. Thankfully, there was none of the wailing and weeping they had endured yesterday. However, the effect on the room’s occupants was no less severe.
Barnabas stormed out of the room toward his sister’s bed chamber further down the corridor. Myles held his hand out to Estelle.
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Myles murmured gently. “Beatrice rarely rises before noon, and sleeps like the dead.”
He lapsed into horrified silence when he realised what he had just said but it was too late to call the words back. Although Estelle offered him a soft smile of reassurance, his phraseology hovered over them as they followed Barnabas down the corridor.
Myles followed his father into the room, and tugged Estelle in behind him.
“Damn it all to Hell,” he swore as soon as he saw his aunt. He slid a shaking hand through his hair and stepped closer to the bed.
“Oh, dear God no,” Estelle whispered when she saw Beatrice.
She closed her eyes and turned away, but the image of Beatrice lying on her back on the bed, her eyes wide open in a death stare, a foamy dribble dripping from the corner of her mouth, still lingered.
Myles stalked toward the bed and touched the back of Beatrice’s cheek. It was still warm but the blue tinge to Beatrice’s lips warned him that she was beyond help.
“This is recent,” he snapped. “Whoever has done this has only just killed her. They are still in the house.”
Fury burned through him and put a bite in his words that conveyed all of his inner rage and frustration.
“Where is Isaac?” he shouted, as he stalked around the room yanking open dresser doors, and the cupboard doors before he knelt down and peered under the bed. He froze and pierced his father with a look. “Stay with me, do you hear me? Don’t you dare step out of this room without me.”
Barnabas nodded jerkily.
Estelle, alarmed at how pale Barnabas had gone, helped the man to a chair. He slumped into it gratefully and patted the back of her hand in a fatherly manner. Estelle had no idea what to do next. She didn’t want to send for a maid because the maid who usually attended Beatrice was still sobbing in the hallway. The rest of the staff would also be alerted to another death in the household, and she didn’t want to do that until Myles said it was alright to do so. With nothing else to do, she stood beside Barnabas’ chair and waited.
“Has she been strangled too?” Barnabas asked weakly.
Estelle winced. Her gaze flew immediately to Beatrice’s neck. She was relieved to see the skin unblemished.
Myles slowly lowered her lids and studied the bed Beatrice lay on.
“It doesn’t look like she struggled,” he murmured, although Beatrice’s fingers were curled. In his book this indicated that she had struggled in her final moments but with what nobody knew. He hated to have to do it but he studied the foam coming out of the corner of her mouth.
“It looks like she had a fit of some kind,” he added.
He wasn’t talking to anybody in particular, just thinking aloud. He had no idea if either Barnabas or Estelle was paying him the slightest bit of attention, but it helped to be able to talk about his findings, if only to get his thoughts in order.
“Did she suffer from fits?” Estelle asked.
“Not as far as I know. She certainly never mentioned it,” Barnabas replied. “Do you think it is poison of some kind?”
“I don’t know,” Myles replied honestly. “From what, though? We all ate the same thing last night and we all made it through the night.” He looked at Estelle. “Just.”
With the possibility that she might have been poisoned in his mind, Myles bent down and sniffed Beatrice’s mouth.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking her for causes of death,” Myles murmured as he leaned over her to study her back. He tugged the covers back but could see no sign of a knife. “If a seizure didn’t kill her she may have been poisoned. It is a safe assumption to make without a definitive diagnosis from a doctor.”
“So we have to assume she has been poisoned by something at presently unknown,” Barnabas snorted. “Gerald has been stabbed in the back. The same miscreant has tried to strangle Estelle, and now Isaac is missing and you tell me he is not the killer. I told you all along that boy is no good, didn’t I? Didn’t I?”
“We need to find Isaac,” Myles declared forcefully.
Although he didn’t say as much he knew from the look in Estelle’s eyes that she understood him. While Isaac was missing, they had no idea if he was the culprit or another victim.
“And Vernon,” he warned darkly.
“You can’t think he has anything to do with this, surely to goodness? I mean, Vernon is odd I will grant you, but he has been in this house for years. He isn’t set to inherit anything if I pass away, and he knows it. In fact, he would be out on his ear, and so would Eva.” Barnabas shook his head. “No, I won’t believe it possible.”
Myles sighed because he knew he could argue with his father all day and get nowhere. The simplest thing to do was find Isaac.
“Look, we cannot establish just how Beatrice died without a doctor. We can’t get one of those right now because the river is still too high. It is going to take a couple of days before it recedes enough for us to cross the bridge. Until then we are on our own. That means we have to know where everyone is at all times. Beatrice needs to be moved into the cellar with Gerald for now. It is too late for her. I am sorry, father,” he added when he saw the clear lines of distress on Barnabas’ face and softened his stance.
“She always was a pain,” Barnabas mumbled affectionately. He dabbed at his eyes, suddenly looking every day of his three and seventy years.
Myles couldn’t allow himself to think of the family’s loss. Gerald’s death was one thing, but to have two relatives die in as many days had left everyone reeling, himself included. He just hoped that Isaac wasn’t the next to go.
“We need to look for Isaac,” Myles urged gently. “You go back to your room. I will escort you there. For now, it is best if you keep the door locked. Don’t answer it for anybody. I will be back when we have searched the house again.”
Myles winced because he
knew it was going to take far longer than before given that they were searching this time for Isaac and not with him.
“This is getting ridiculous,” he breathed as he followed Estelle out of the room.
“Do you have your gun?” she asked.
Myles nodded and patted the pocket of his jacket. “Let’s hope I don’t need to use it. Stay close, though, alright?”
Estelle had no intention of doing otherwise, and nodded effusively.
They only got half-way down the hallway when a shadow at the far end suddenly moved. Estelle tugged hard on Myles’ hand but didn’t need to say anything. Myles had already noticed it. He was already in motion before the figure, dressed entirely in black, left the shadows and raced down the corridor away from them. It paused for a moment at the end, as though contemplating what to do, or tempting them to venture nearer. Suddenly, with a flurry of tails, it whirled around and disappeared down a side corridor.
“The servant’s quarters,” Myles cried as he began to run. He let go of Estelle’s hand and lengthened his stride. “Quickly. We must catch him.”
Estelle lifted her skirt and raced after him as fast as she possibly could. She daren’t look about her, and had no idea where they were going, but stuck right behind Myles as they raced through the house.
When they reached what appeared to be an unused set of stairs, she followed Myles down it without question. Later, she would wonder at her daring. As it was, she knew her safety lay with Myles, and so worked hard to keep pace with him and not let him disappear from sight. It was difficult, especially when she reached the bottom of the stairs and entered a corridor which ran to the left and right of her only to find herself alone.
“Myles?” she called quietly. She paused, her breath sawing in and out, and listened intently to the sound of running footsteps. It sounded as though they came from her right but she couldn’t be sure. Cautiously, she tiptoed forward, careful to keep her back to the wall in case she was attacked from behind.