The Bet

by Rebecca King

  Without any way of knowing which way she should go, she stopped still and waited. Her heart pounded in her ears as she listened. She couldn’t hear anything else except for her own breath which sounded inordinately loud in the silence of what appeared to be a disused hallway.

  She began to pray that she wouldn’t hear gunshot, and that Myles, wherever he was, was alright. While she wanted him to re-appear, she wasn’t prepared for the moment when he did actually emerge from the shadows before her. She didn’t completely manage to stifle her scream of surprise when he suddenly raced toward her but didn’t get the chance to say anything before he grabbed hold of her hand and hauled her after him as he retraced his steps.

  “Come on,” he ordered briskly, his face stern.

  “Have you found them?” she asked in trepidation, dragging her heels in case he said yes.

  “No, but I have found their route in and out of the house. Come on,” he urged again, unwilling to waste a single moment now that he had the murderer on the run.

  A warning voice cautioned him against dragging Estelle with him, but the thought of having to leave her behind, even locked in Barnabas’ bedroom with him, was prohibitive. He had no intention of allowing her out of his sight ever again, even when he was chasing a killer: a killer who was, at that present time, running for his life through the woods.

  Thankfully, after that momentary hesitation, Estelle followed him. Right up until the moment they arrived at the tunnel entrance.

  “I am not going in there,” she protested and slammed to a halt as she stared at the huge, gaping maw of darkness that stretched wide like a demon’s mouth before her.

  “It is a tunnel,” Myles explained as though she couldn’t see that for herself.

  She threw him a filthy glare. “The tunnel the killer just ran down,” she snapped. It wasn’t a question.

  “I didn’t know it was here, Estelle,” he explained. “I followed him down there. It comes up at the old orangery on the other side of the property, right next to the stable block. It runs under the moat so goes downhill a bit, and there are a few steps that lead up to the small back room behind the greenhouses. It is the route the killer has been taking to get into the house without being seen.”

  Estelle stared at him. “So he doesn’t live here after all?”

  Myles sighed. “It doesn’t look like it, but we need to find Isaac.”

  “Who on earth put it there?” She demanded, still not budging an inch.

  Myles sighed, and suspected the killer had already gone by now, but was still unwilling to relent until he knew that for a fact, and had found some way of securing the tunnel’s entrance from further invasion.

  “I don’t know. One of my ancestor’s probably. I know of only one house with a tunnel like this and that is owned by my good friend Henry Harper at Calke Abbey in Leicestershire. His grandfather had a tunnel built that extended to his orangery when his wife protested about having unseemly delivery carts drive up to the back door. So he put a tunnel in. The deliveries were made at the orangery and the tunnel used by the servants to transport the goods to the house underground so the occupants of the house couldn’t see them. I know this part of the house has fallen into disrepair and is no longer used, and never knew about the tunnel. We have never used it. I am sure father must have forgotten about it too. He has certainly never bothered to maintain it, or mentioned it in passing.”

  “So down here is used for storage,” she replied matter of factly. The evidence was all around them.

  Myles nodded. “The rooms are all full of unwanted possessions because the attic is full.”

  Estelle sighed. It sounded such a waste of what should have been a wonderful house. Now, it had been left to fall into ruination and had allowed a killer to select his victims at will.

  “I cannot believe that someone would get access to the house like this.”

  “It is old and requires maintenance, Estelle,” Myles sighed. “I had no idea this was here. There used to be that dresser in front of it, I think. If only we had known about it, we could have sealed this off, or put it to good use ourselves but secured it properly to prevent ourselves being invaded.”

  Estelle glanced around them and shivered.

  “We need to get going,” Myles urged gently. “I know you don’t want to but you need to see this. I need to secure the opposite end of this tunnel, and put the dresser back in a way that cannot be moved, but only when we have made sure that the killer isn’t going to come back. Estelle, I need to make sure he has gone now.”

  Estelle heard the urgency in his voice and knew she had to be brave – or be prepared to get left behind because she suspected Myles was going to go back down the tunnel anyway.

  “Fine,” she whispered on a sigh, but knew it wouldn’t be.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “It will be alright,” he assured her gently.

  She looked at him but made no attempt to mollify him by assuring him she was alright. She wasn’t. She most definitely wasn’t.

  He smiled at her.

  “Fine,” she repeated on a heavy breath.

  She tried to throw him a dour look but it didn’t quite reach her eyes because she knew she didn’t mean it. Her disquiet about what she now faced really wasn’t his fault. If she wasn’t prepared to go this far with him she should never have agreed to come with him on the house search in the first place. It was as simple as that.

  He grinned and grabbed the back of her head to draw her toward him. Slamming a kiss onto her lips reassured him that she truly was going to stay with him. He rested his head against hers. “I will shoot anybody who comes toward us, I promise.”

  She shivered when the warmth of his breath swept over her cheek, but it wasn’t through fear. The need to draw him closer and take what he so temptingly put before her was strong, but now was not the time or place for any of that. Right now, they had a killer to catch.

  A killer to catch, she knew. You are not going to catch him, Myles is. You are just accompanying him because you cannot abide the thought of staying in that house whilst not knowing where he is or how he is.

  “How do we know someone won’t follow us?” she murmured, wishing he would kiss her again.

  “Because I have just chased him through that tunnel,” he replied. “He may have the audacity to double-back and try to re-enter, but he won’t bank on facing the wrong end of my pistol. I think on this occasion I am well within my rights to shoot the blackguard, not only for trespassing but for murdering two of my relatives. He poses a very credible danger to everyone in the house. I am sure there will not be a court in all of the land that won’t consider me well within my rights to defend innocent people in the wake of such callousness.”

  Estelle nodded. Myles was right. “As long as you don’t shoot any of your relations, or the servants,” she warned.

  “I am a better shot than that,” he assured her with no small measure of arrogance.

  Estelle rolled her eyes. She knew that if she dithered any longer she would talk herself out of her decision to go with him.

  “Fine,” she repeated for the third time, and sighed heavily again when he turned around and dragged her into the darkest part of Hell she had ever experienced.

  “I don’t like this,” she whispered moments later when she stepped on something soft and it slithered out from beneath her foot. She jerked and bent down to try to see what it was only for something fine to feather gently across her fingers. Her hand was squeezing Myles’ so tightly her fingertips began to tingle but she couldn’t bring herself to let go.

  “What’s that?” she demanded when something dropped on her head. She flicked desperately at her hair, and in doing so yanked several pins out of it. It began to tumble in great waves about her shoulders. When she realised she was going to look a fright when they emerged into daylight again, she swiftly removed the remainder of the pins and allowed all of her heavy locks to fall. It helped to deflect the sudden drop in temperature from her unco
vered shoulders as they moved forward, and ease her fear that she might have something settle within the tight curls if she kept her hair up, like a spider or something.

  She shivered and kept her focus firmly on Myles’ back as they shuffled forward. Listening to his voice when he spoke helped to soothe her shattered nerves, and she forced herself to ease her hold on him.

  “It is just a few drips from the roof, that’s all,” he replied briskly. “I think we must be beneath the moat by now.”

  Estelle hissed a breath. “Please don’t tell me that.” She forcibly turned her thoughts away from all of that water swirling fiercely above her head only a few feet away. Instead, she ducked her head and tried to ignore the fact that she couldn’t see a blessed thing.

  Myles kept close to the wall. When he had followed the cloaked figure the first time he had walked this tunnel he had followed the sound of the footsteps, and hadn’t allowed the figure to get too far ahead. He hadn’t really noticed just how dark it was deep beneath the earth. Now he was there again, with Estelle, the darkness was so impenetrable that he knew it was foolhardy to go any further. But it was too late to go back now, even though he knew they should. The safest thing to do was return when they had several lanterns to light the way. However, he wasn’t ignorant of the fact that in going back, he would have his back facing the exit. If the killer chose to return, he could creep up behind him and stab him in the back just like he had Gerald. The prospect of that left him and Estelle no choice but to carry on.

  Onwards and upwards, Myles thought as he forged ahead.

  Several minutes passed before he became aware of the dull ache starting to form in his hand. Although Estelle’s hand was tiny, the strength of her fear had tightened her hold and now threatened to cut off all circulation. When he tried to loosen her hold a little, she placed a hand on his forearm and tightened her grip. In spite of himself, and the discomfort in his hand, his grin widened in the darkness. He shook his head because by now he would normally be at the end of his patience. With Estelle, he didn’t mind one bit.

  To Estelle, it felt as though they were in that tunnel forever. At first she was too scared to notice when the darkness began to lift. When she stared to see more and more of the man before her she began to increase her pace. Slowly, the wonderful sight of Myles’ back emerged out of the gloom. Within seconds, she could see the small curls on the back of his neck, and the small black cloth that bound his long hair at the base of his neck. Then they arrived at the bottom of several stone steps.

  “This is it,” Myles breathed, his gun cocked in readiness.

  Myles remained cautious as they climbed them. He pushed the door at the top of the stairs expecting it to be closed. It wasn’t. It squeaked in protest a bit but opened to allow them into a tiny room no bigger than four feet square. On the opposite side of that was a door: a door he knew immediately that would bring them out into the back of the old boot room just to the side of the orangery. He had always assumed it was a storage room used by the gardeners. With no reason to venture near the boot room before, he had never been close enough to investigate it thoroughly and so had never seen the steps or ventured down them. Strangely, none of the gardeners had mentioned it to him either.

  That was something he made a mental note to ask them about later.

  “Where are we?” Estelle whispered in a tremulous voice as she studied the small square space.

  “At the old orangery,” he replied. “My father built a new one on the other side of the property several years back because it has better sunlight. This has been used as storage by the gardeners.”

  “There is a lot of this place used for storage,” she grumbled.

  Myles had to concede that she had a point, and sighed. Rather than enter into that particular debate right now he studied each of the buildings. Paying close attention to the darkened doorways that marked the entrances to a store room, a small conservatory, a seed room, and a boot room, he scoured each shadow. Eventually, his gaze rested on the gate at the far end of the walled garden.

  “Where does that lead?” she whispered when she saw the direction of his gaze.

  “It is a back cart road that goes straight to the village. It also leads right past the Whispering Woods.” Myles looked at her when she jerked. “We aren’t going into them.”

  As if to confirm his promise, the wind picked up its pace and began to howl around them. The trees shook a stern warning, the leaves of the branches hissing menacingly as they were tousled by the stormy winds. While it wasn’t raining yet, the darkened storm clouds hovering above promised a deluge at any moment. Myles knew it was foolish to get caught out in the rain. He had no idea if the tunnel would flood. Even if it didn’t, it was cold and dank in there and not the kind of place to walk whilst soaking wet – not unless one had an inclination to catch a heavy case of influenza.

  To her horror, while studying those swaying branches her attention was drawn by a flurry of movement in black at the far gate.

  “Myles,” she gasped. Her eyes widened when she saw the now familiar cloaked figure burst out of a doorway and race for the cart road.

  Myles suddenly released her hand and raced after it.

  “Keep up,” he shouted to her, before he tore after the killer once more.

  With a heavy sigh, Estelle lifted her skirts and followed him. Her annoyance grew when it was evident he was going to go against his word and venture into the Whispering Woods. It was clear that his pursuit of the killer would not be thwarted by the woods. His step didn’t even falter as he raced through the trees – and promptly disappeared.

  “Myles!” Estelle cried. She turned in a circle and realised she could no longer see him. Panic began to build instantly. Her heart thundered heavily. Her eyes grew wide with fear.

  When she had been alone in the woods before she hadn’t been able to envisage anything worse than the situation she was in. Now she understood just how wrong she had been. Worse than being in these woods alone was having lost Myles in the woods. Not only that, but there was a killer circling around them somewhere; and he could emerge in front of her at any moment.

  “Myles, please don’t leave me,” she whispered pitifully.

  She struggled to contain her tears as she stared at the rustling leaves on the heavy branches. They brought forth so many horrible memories that she wasn’t sure she could carry on. It was galling to realise she had stupidly put herself in this situation once more, even for Myles. She had charged after him, through a densely populated forest, with no way of being able to retrace her steps back out of it, just because he had asked her to. Of course she wouldn’t be able to keep up with him, he had longer legs than she had and was armed with a weapon. Not only that, but he had grown up in and around these parts and could most probably find his way out of the woods whenever he chose.

  “Stupid, stupid, mistake,” she murmured. “Myles!”

  “Here,” Myles called when he heard her faint cry. He frowned as he studied the trees. He was sure he had heard something move. Rather than head toward Estelle, and most probably have the killer follow him, he remained where he was, watchful and wary, and with one hand clenched tightly on his gun.

  Suddenly, a flicker of movement to his left caught his eye. His gaze locked onto the small figure scurrying away. He knew immediately that it wasn’t the figure he had just chased into the woods. That person had been taller, and wirier, although difficult to identify from the high hood of the large cloak they had worn. This second person was a woman; an old lady from the look of the grey hair pulled tightly away from her haggard face, and confined in a tight bun at the base of her neck. Rather than call out to her, Myles followed. When he heard Estelle’s cry again, he knew the woman was heading toward her, and cocked his pistol in case the woman meant Estelle any harm. Rather than answer back and alert the older woman to his presence, Myles followed the old woman through the trees. To his disbelief, she suddenly surged forward and disappeared into a heavy thicket of bushes and branc
hes, and promptly vanished.

  “Damn it,” he whispered in disgust.

  “Myles?” Estelle’s heart began to beat faster when she heard that blistering curse. “Is that you?”

  “I am here,” he murmured. “Stay still, I think I am following you around. Just keep talking to me and I will follow the sound of your voice.”

  He knew he wasn’t far away. When she began to explain that she got lost, he headed toward her, shocked to realise he was only six feet away.

  Even though Myles had told her he was coming toward her, she still had to stifle her scream when he stepped through the branches. Without thought, she hurled herself at him and clung to his neck.

  “I thought I had lost you,” she whispered, her voice as shaken as the rest of her.

  “It’s alright,” Myles soothed, hugging her tightly. “I won’t rush off again. I am sorry, Estelle. I didn’t realise the trees were this thick. This is ridiculous.”

  “They are dense,” she agreed.

  Myles shook his head and studied the area around them. “Now that I have been in here I am starting to think my father is right in that these woods should have been felled a long time ago. If only to step the rumours circulating about the priory.”

  Estelle jerked and leaned back to look up at him.

  “A priory? So that’s what that was,” she murmured.

  “You have seen it?” He frowned at her. “The priory is in ruins. Did you see it the other night?”

  Estelle nodded. “Yes, and an old lady’s cottage. She was the one who warned me to get out of the woods but disappeared before I could ask her how to.”

  Myles looked at her. “I have just seen her. Do you know who she is?”

  Estelle looked at him nervously. “No, I thought you might. I just assumed she was a villager.”

  Myles shook his head. “As far as I know nobody should be living in these woods. They are part of the estate, and private property. I have never heard of a cottage, though, especially near to the priory.”