by Rebecca King
“Who is she then?” Estelle began to quake in her boots. “Do you think she is one of those cloaked figures we saw the other night?”
“I think she might be,” Myles sighed. “You may have ventured too near to them. Whatever they are doing in these woods it is illegal because they are trespassing. They shouldn’t be here, and they know it.”
“Which way do we go to get out?” Estelle murmured. Even though Myles was with her, the urgency to leave was just as strong as it had been before. She rested her head against his chest for a moment, taking refuge in the steady beat of his heart.
Myles cupped the back of her head and held her there while he placed a tender kiss on her forehead. “I don’t know. I have completely lost all sense of direction. Let’s just walk in one direction and see where we end up. As soon as we can reach the edge of these woods I will know where we are and can get us home from there.”
Estelle nodded. She knew that whether they were in the woods or not she would follow him anywhere. When he didn’t immediately move, she looked up at him. Before caution to warn her otherwise, she stood up on tiptoe and kissed his lips. He instinctively dipped his head and captured her lips in a fuller embrace.
Suddenly, the loud crackle of twigs and dried leaves nearby made him look up. Every instinct went on alert. He tried to tune into the cause of the noise but heard nothing else. When Estelle tried to speak, he shook his head and placed a cautionary finger over her lips. He pointed to the trees ahead. Estelle nodded and took his hand. Together, they began to walk.
Minute later, Myles stopped. He stared blankly at the floor while he tried to hear it again; the noise that was so disturbing he knew they had just stumbled across something dangerous.
“Do you hear it? Chanting,” Estelle whispered directly into his ear.
He nodded and crept forward. “I think it is coming from the priory. We are here, look.”
He quietly tugged a large branch down in front of them so that they could peer through the leaves at the aged ruins standing at the far end of a small clearing. It wasn’t the decaying stonework that drew their attention, though, even though the voids where there had once been window stared down at them like watchful eyes. It was the figures standing at each point of a pentagram, chanting rhythmically as they swung jars of what looked like smoking herbs before them that held them in frozen horror.
“Look,” Estelle whispered. She nodded to the edge of the ruins, to two figures, one more resplendently dressed than the others in a red and black cloak with a pointed hood. The one seemingly deep in conversation with the now familiar black cloaked figure also wore a cincture from which hung several items all of which looked sinister; a dagger; the skull of a small animal, several herbs of some sort, a small vial of something.
“What are they?” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” Myles replied. He closed his eyes on a silent prayer that they wouldn’t be noticed. “Devil worshippers of some kind I expect.”
Estelle shook her head. “It’s evil.”
“They aren’t worshipping God, now, are they? The church is several miles away, which is the reason they are here no doubt,” he added.
Estelle could hear the anger in his voice. “Just don’t try to challenge them on your own. There are more of them than us and we don’t know how to get out of here.”
“I do now,” Myles sighed. “We are not lost any more. Just stay close to me.”
He scoured the area but could see no more than six people.
“What?” she asked when she saw his frown.
“There isn’t a cottage in these woods, Estelle,” he said, his breath barely above a whisper.
“There is,” she insisted. “It is over there.”
When he still looked doubtful she grabbed his hand and dragged him over to the small clearing where she had seen the old woman enter the tiny cottage. When she got there, though, she slammed to a stop and stared in disbelief at the place where the ramshackle old cottage had once stood.
In its place lay ruins that were older and more unstable than the priory behind them. Not only that but the foliage surrounding it had smothered the path leading to the front door she had seen earlier. They were so unkempt now that the tangle of bushes and brambles had almost completely obscured the cottage from view. The cottage that now had no chimney, no front door, and no roof.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered. “There was a house here. It was better than that, Myles. While it was ramshackle, it was not that bad. It was a cottage, Myles, I will swear by it. The woman walked into it. I saw smoke coming from the chimney.”
Myles heard the rising panic in her insistent voice and hastened to soothe her.
“I don’t like this,” he told her quietly. “There are far too many odd things going on. I think we need to get out of here now before that lot are joined by anybody else. The last thing we need is to be chased through the trees again.”
He adored her too much to call into question her beliefs, but suspected that she had become confused the other night as well as disorientated. He knew that fear could play tricks on a person’s mind, and make them believe they had seen or done something when they truly hadn’t.
Had she imagined seeing the house more intact, though? Given the alternatives were just too nonsensical to be believed, he had to assume she might have hit her head far earlier in the evening that she had thought, and in her injured state become confused.
What he did believe was that the hooded cloaks still chanting around the pentagram had chased her – and they had intended to kill her when they caught her. He glanced over his shoulder when the chanting stopped. The small hairs stood up on the back of his neck, warning him that they needed to get out.
“Go,” he whispered harshly. He pushed one hand hard into Estelle’s lower back and propelled her forward, into the bushes and out of sight. “Don’t make a sound.”
He had no idea where the figure in black had gone now because it was no longer beside the figure in the red robes. He had no intention of going to find out. He could, however, still see the rest of the devil worshippers. They were all making their way toward their leader, still standing a few feet away. Myles watched that leader open a small vial and waft it about a bit, and had no doubt it contained opiates of some kind. To his surprise, and inner satisfaction, they all then removed their hoods, affording him a good look at their faces.
“Damn it all to Hell,” he breathed as he studied each face in turn, and felt his fury burn.
“What is it?” Estelle whispered. She leaned over him and peered over his shoulder. “I have seen them in the village.”
Myles nodded. “Come on. We are leaving.” He had seen enough.
Estelle didn’t need to be told twice and followed Myles toward a small, barely visible path several feet away, behind the derelict cottage. She took one last look at the ruined building, and shivered. Trying to stave off her growing alarm, she increased her pace but didn’t truly relax until they stepped out of the trees nearly ten minutes later.
The rain that immediately soaked her face was blissful given the terror she had just endured. She stood still for a moment and savoured the gentle taps against her chilled flesh as she breathed in the crisp air that billowed around her. It made her feel alive.
Suddenly, she felt someone touch her face. Her eyes opened and she looked straight into Myles dark eyes. Their eyes met. A wealth of understanding wove its way around them, and bound them together with invisible bonds. Something deep within her shifted. She boldly grabbed the folds of his shirt with tight fists and stood up on tiptoe. He didn’t pull away when she placed her lips upon his. Instead, he moaned low in his throat and hauled her into his arms.
They were both drenched by the time he finally released her but neither of them cared. She smiled at him. The tenderness in his warm eyes made her smile grow. She held him just as tightly when he slipped one arm around her waist and held her against his side as he guided her slowly around the edge of the wo
ods and back toward the house.
“I am not going to apologise for that,” he murmured.
“Good. I don’t want you to,” she assured him.
They were so engrossed in each other that neither of them noticed the small figure standing within the sheltered overhang of the woods watching them, waiting for them to disappear back into the tunnel.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When Myles and Estelle re-entered the house, they paused beside the tunnel entrance and slid a heavy wooden cupboard across to stop anybody else entering or leaving.
“That won’t stop them,” Myles told her.
Estelle looked at him. “What is the point of putting it there then?”
“It is going to make noise if someone wants to move it. It is too heavy for one person to move by themselves anyway. If it does move, I doubt they will be able to put it back exactly into position so we can keep an eye on it, and will know immediately if it has been used again.”
Estelle nodded. “So you will know if any of the servants have moved it,” she replied.
“None of those people work in this house,” he assured her.
“Who were they?” she asked. While she asked the question, she wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to know.
Myles snorted. “People who are going to be arrested soon,” he told her. “How well do you know the villagers?”
“Not very well,” she said. “I have met grandma’s neighbours, and a few of the locals.”
“Albert Kempton?”
Estelle shook her head.
“Martin Higginbotham?”
Again, she shook her head.
Myles sighed.
“Doctor Sanderson?”
Her eyes popped wide. “The doctor?”
Myles nodded and heaved a sigh. “I had my doubts about bringing you here at the time, I must confess. Now that I have seen what they are doing, I have no hesitation in believing I would have placed you in even more danger had I left you at his house. He was at one of the points of that pentagram.”
“Good Lord,” she breathed.
“Your grandmother isn’t seeing him, is she?”
Estelle shook her head. “No. I am pleased to say that my grandmother is in fine fettle.”
“Good, that’s good then.”
Estelle followed him out of the small room. “It explains how they have gotten hold of opiates, doesn’t it?”
“It does indeed,” Myles sighed. He opened his mouth to say something else only to pause. A frown appeared on his brow as he listened.
“What’s that?” The small hairs on the back of Estelle’s neck began to prickle. She glanced back into the room they had just left.
“It sounds like a kitten or something.” The faint mewling cry was haunting, but close by, she was sure of it.
“This way,” Myles said. Grabbing her hand, he followed the direction of the noise only to stop outside of a door at the far end of the hallway.
“It’s in here,” she whispered.
Myles tried the knob on the door but the door was locked. Strangely, the key was still in the lock on the outside. Turning it, he shoved the door open.
“Good God! Isaac!”
He charged into the room and dropped to his knees beside his cousin, who lay prone on the floor, the back of his head covered in blood.
“Who did this to you? When? How long have you been here?” Myles cursed.
Isaac stared dumbly up at him for a few moments.
“Can you hear me?”
“Of course I can,” Isaac grumbled. “Stop asking me bloody questions.”
Myles slumped with relief at his cousin’s sarcasm. It was a welcome assurance that his relation was indeed well enough to be lucid, if a little out of sorts.
“Help me up.” Isaac held his hand out.
“Are you sure? Are you hurt anywhere?”
Isaac assured him that his head hurt like the very Devil was sawing on it but, other than that he was fine.
Myles helped his cousin to his feet. When Isaac blanched and began to sway, he slipped his arm over his shoulders and helped him to the door. In spite of his blustering, Isaac leaned heavily on him as they made their way out of the room.
“What happened?” Myles asked. “What do you remember?”
“I was going up to bed last night and saw someone in the shadows. I shouted at them and chased them. They came down here. When I got down here the blackguard was standing around the corner waiting for me. The world went black. I don’t remember anything after that. I came to sometime in the night but whenever I moved I felt sick and the world went black again. That’s all I remember.”
“Why leave him in that room?” Estelle asked.
“We don’t go in there,” Myles replied. “Even if Isaac woke up and started to shout I doubt anybody in the servant’s quarters or the main body of the house would hear him. I suspect that when the killer saw how heavily his head was bleeding they thought he would die before morning.”
“Well, it is going to take a damned sight more than that,” Isaac snorted, but then winced when his head protested against the sudden movement.
“Let’s go to the study. We need to tell Barnabas and take a good look at that head of yours. I don’t want you falling asleep on me right now, Isaac,” Myles replied.
When an uncomfortable silence settled over everyone, Isaac stopped walking and stared hard at Myles.
“What?” he demanded quietly.
“Beatrice has been killed: poisoned, I think. We found her this morning,” Myles explained. “We also saw that same cloaked figure and followed it out of the house and into the Whispering Woods. It is one of the people who chased Estelle out of the woods the other night and, I suspect, the same person who sent us those letters that brought us all together.”
“Is it Estelle they are after, or us?” Isaac asked.
“Us. All of us,” Myles replied bluntly.
“Why us?”
“It may be because we are the closest house to those woods. I don’t know why they chose to target us now, after all these years. I cannot help but think we are missing something.”
Isaac snorted. “Yes, the bloody killer,” he replied sarcastically.
Myles looked at his head. “I think it is safe to say that Estelle stumbled upon them the other night and they want to silence her because of what she saw.”
Myles named a few people from the village and saw recognition dawn on Isaac’s face.
“Damn it all to Hell. The magistrate needs to throw them in gaol and toss away the key.”
Myles agreed. “Until then, I am pleased to announce we have a passage in and out of the house we can use, even when the moat is flooded.”
Isaac stared at him, waiting for him to explain.
“I will show you later,” Myles sighed.
He helped his cousin down the hallway and into the main body of the house. When they entered the rooms used by the family they were immediately encased in warmth, and heaved a huge sigh of relief to find that everything was as they had left it.
Estelle rubbed the chilled flesh of her arms while she absorbed that blessed warmth. She would have preferred to go straight up to her bed chamber and get some much needed rest, but that would have to come later once Myles had finished telling Barnabas what had happened, and he had decided what they should do next.
“There you are,” Barnabas breathed when he saw them. “Good Lord, what has happened to you?”
Myles sighed and opened his mouth to speak only to slam it closed again when Vernon appeared silently behind them.
“Shadows and traitors,” he mumbled almost tauntingly, for once staring Myles straight in the eye. “They are amongst us, you know.”
Myles opened his mouth to answer, but Vernon clearly wasn’t interested in a response. He stepped around them, his gaze locked on Eva, who sat in her favourite chair beside the window, sewing quietly in her own little world as always.
Estelle stared at him, unsure what to ma
ke of his outburst. Myles and Barnabas had said that their relation was strange, but she hadn’t expected just how odd he was.
“Tea anyone?” Barnabas asked when a maid entered moments later, followed by a second maid carrying an equally heavy burden.
“I’ll pour,” Estelle offered.
Once tea was handed out, she poured Eva a cup and carried it across the room. She smiled as she slid the saucer onto the small table at Eva’s side, and was about to turn away when something on the rug captured her attention. She frowned and looked closer. She began to shake when she looked around some more. Carefully schooling her face into an impassive mask of politeness, she ignored her thundering heart and went to sit beside Myles, as calmly and quietly as possible.
She then contemplated what she had just seen.
Could she be right in thinking-? Was it possible? Was it even credible?
She had no idea but she knew, deep down inside, that it was not only credible but probable. That nothing seemingly impossible was improbable until the facts proved otherwise. Nobody was innocent until the guilty party was found. Myles always said so.
Estelle looked at her tea cup but suspected that her hand would shake too much and betray her. She couldn’t risk alerting everyone to her suspicions, not when she suspected they had a predator in their midst.
When the maids had departed in search of supplies to tend to Isaac’s head, Isaac told them all what had happened to him. In spite of warning herself not to, Estelle found her gaze drawn to Eva. She studied the older woman carefully from across the room. Eva continued to sew. In spite of her allegedly poor eyesight and infirmity her hands were quick and steady as the needle wove in and out of the fabric. It was clear that Eva had no difficult seeing the tiny stitches.
Why have I not noticed that before? She mused.
Something deep inside her knew instantly that her suspicions were accurate.
“What is it?” Myles whispered while Barnabas was questioning Isaac. He had felt her tense beside him. The small hairs on the back of his neck rose when he saw how scared she was, and how valiantly she was trying to hide it.