The Mystery at Falconbridge Hall

by Maggi Andersen

  Johnson waited for her below. “The inspector is on his way.” He hurried alongside her to the rose garden. Flora grazed the lawns where Vanessa had left her.

  The butler grasped Vanessa’s foot and boosted her up onto the horse.

  “Let me follow you, please.” He gazed up at her anxiously. “I don’t trust that scurf to keep his word.”

  Vanessa didn’t trust Lovel either. She pulled on the reins. “I can’t take the chance. I must go alone.”

  ***

  A cart loaded with fresh fish from the docks rattled along the road ahead of them holding up the cab. As soon as it turned off the road, Julian shouted at the driver to go faster.

  “Can only go as fast as me horse will allow, guv,” the jarvie said.

  Burning with frustration, Julian finally arrived at the house to find Johnson pacing at the gate. “What has happened, man?” Julian yelled.

  Johnson hurried over. As they ran back to the house, he explained to Julian how Lovel had kidnapped Blythe, and Vanessa had gone after them. “I’ve rung for the inspector, my lord. I expect he’ll be here any minute.”

  Julian’s chest felt crushed with anxiety. “Do as her ladyship instructed, Johnson. Wait for Knott. Tell him to hold off. I’ll handle it.”

  Julian ran to the bedroom. Across on the far wall, the painting had been pulled back, and the safe door hung open. His pistol lay on a table where Vanessa must have left it. He grabbed a box of bullets from the safe and quickly loaded the gun.

  He came down to find Mrs. Royce clutching her hands together in the hall. Her eyes widened at the sight of the pistol. “Keep the front door closed and everyone inside,” he said,

  “until you are instructed otherwise.”

  “Yes, my lord. It will be done. Please be careful.”

  Julian barely noticed her faint reply as he strode down the steps. The red-hot anger was so palpable he could taste it. He would kill Lovel if it was the last thing he did. He couldn’t bear to think something had happened to his loved ones. They were alive. They had to be.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Gasping, her heart pounding, Vanessa rode back to the clearing. Lovel held the struggling child around the waist easily with one arm, the other hand on a knife tucked into his belt. “What have you got for me?”

  Blythe’s wrists were tied, and a cloth gagged her mouth. When she saw Vanessa, her eyes grew huge in her white face. At the sight of the frightened girl, tears flooded Vanessa’s eyes. She shook her head to clear them. She urged herself not to weaken now. “Send Blythe to me and you can have the money!”

  Vanessa drew the diamond necklace from her pocket and held it up. A shaft of sunlight caught the gems, and they flashed blue flame. “You can have the rest when you let Blythe go,” she said to Lovel.

  He began to move toward her.

  Vanessa pulled the horse back away. Flora, sensing Vanessa’s distress, grew restless and whickered. “Move any closer and I’ll throw the jewels into the long grass. It will take you forever to find them all. Send Blythe to me now!”

  Lovel drew his knife with his free hand. “You want this child back alive?”

  Vanessa gasped, fear strangling her voice. “Let her go, please, Lovel. Take me instead.”

  He nodded, with that knowing smile she hated. “Get off the horse.”

  Vanessa jumped down.

  Blythe might have been a bundle of rags in his arms. He threw Blythe onto the saddle and secured her wrists to the pommel with his red bandana. “Get home, Flora!” he commanded.

  Flora cantered off down the track.

  Vanessa felt her legs go weak with relief. She pulled the money and the jewels from her pocket, hoping to distract him. “Here. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

  Lovel strode purposefully to her side. His huge hand clamped down over hers snatching the cache of jewels and money from her fingers. He pocketed them and signaled his success to his accomplice who must have been waiting amongst the trees.

  Vanessa swallowed as bile rose in her throat. “I’ve done what you wished. Let me go.”

  “Why should I?” His black eyes shone.

  She shuddered. He moved like a snake striking its victim and had his arm around her waist before she knew it. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.

  “You’re coming with me. I’ve always fancied a romp with you.” Breathing unwashed male sweat and rancid fear, she almost gagged.

  “Johnson!” Vanessa’s cry echoed around the clearing.

  “Be quiet or you’ll never see your home again.” His strode with her toward the trees as his free hand roamed her body, touching intimate parts of her that made her sick to her stomach.

  “Let me go.” She pummeled his back and kicked out at him violently.

  Laughing, he put her down, his fingers sinking into the flesh of her arms. He shook her so hard her teeth rattled. “By heaven I’ll have something to take away with me. Some memory of this cursed life.”

  Vanessa kicked his leg as hard as she could. Lovel cursed and released her. She backed away from him.

  A shot ricocheted through the woods. She watched frozen as Lovel crumpled to the ground. A look of astonishment on his face. With a foul curse he lay on the ground clutching his thigh. Blood seeped through his fingers.

  Shocked, Vanessa searched the bushes for the police as Lovel’s accomplice turned and ran into the trees.

  She gasped as he ran across the clearing toward her, a smoking pistol in his hand. “Julian!”

  Julian kicked Lovel’s knife away with his foot. He held Vanessa against him. “Are you, all right?”

  She placed her hand on his chest, afraid she was dreaming. “I am now.”

  He nodded. “Go to Blythe, Vanessa. Send the inspector to me.”

  Lovel groaned, eyeing the gun. “We’re going to wait for the police, Lovel. You’ll be lucky if I can resist shooting you dead.”

  “You won’t,” Lovel said. “You don’t have it in you.”

  “Don’t try me. You’ll find you’re very wrong.”

  Vanessa believed him. It would be wise for Lovel to head Julian’s words. She turned and ran.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  In the drawing room, Blythe settled between Vanessa and Julian on the settee. Studying the girl anxiously, she rubbed each slender wrist ringed with red marks from the bonds. “Did they hurt you?”

  Blythe shook her head.

  “Poor Agatha, it’s unbelievable,” Julian said. “I would expect my staff to be safe under my roof.”

  Blythe gazed up at him. “We’ll be safe now that you are home, won’t we, Father?”

  “Yes. We’re safe now, sweetheart.” Julian put his arm around her.

  “I wrote to Agatha’s father as soon as I heard,” Vanessa told him.

  Julian nodded. “Good. I must also convey my sympathies.” He huffed out a breath. “A sad business. It’s not easy to understand why she took that painting.”

  “Did you give her one of your drawings of a butterfly?” Vanessa asked.

  He shook his head in puzzlement. “I didn’t. Why?”

  “I found one in her drawer.”

  “Ah, yes. That would be the Nymphalidae. I remember having to draw another after it disappeared.” He frowned. “Hard to know what motivated her. I doubt it was money. Odd notions must have swayed her from reality. Her actions were often influenced by superstition. She scolded Johnson for opening an umbrella in the hall and cleaning shoes on the table. The gardener was criticized for walking under his ladder.”

  “You should have seen Nessa riding Flora, Father,” Blythe said. “She can ride as well as you.”

  At Julian’s look of surprise Vanessa raised a challenging eyebrow.

  He grinned. “I’m so proud of you both. You are so very brave.”

  “Lovel wouldn’t have hurt me.” Blythe snuggled against her father’s chest. “He just needed some money.”

  “What he did was very wrong.” Vanessa preferred Blythe
to think that, as did Julian, for she read it in his eyes. Better that Blythe not know how ruthless Lovel was. She could only feel relief that Blythe had come through this frightening experience so well. Having her father home was the perfect antidote to her fears.

  “Thank God you arrived when you did.” Vanessa smiled at her husband, sitting there so big and strong. She would never forget how his quick action had saved her. She longed to snuggle into his arms herself.

  Julian stretched out his legs and took a long sip from his brandy snifter. “If I’d considered it, I might have gone in search of the police first and lost valuable time. I’m learning to listen to my instincts more.”

  Vanessa glanced at the weary, dirty child. “Blythe, you’d best bathe and change your dress, before dinner.” She rose and pulled the bell cord.

  “I’m profoundly sorry, Vanessa,” he said when Blythe had left. A sigh escaped his lips. “I would never have gone had I suspected Lovel to be so dangerous. But Miss Lillicrop’s disappearance, along with that painting, happened over a year ago, and apart from the poor soul found dead in the wood, I thought things had settled down.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I did feel uneasy while I was away I must confess. Poor Agatha.” He gave a sorrowful shake of his head. “Her general knowledge proved not to extend much beyond poetry, although she tried to make a good show of it. And Blythe seemed to like her.

  “I hoped she would work hard to raise the standard of her teaching. But I saw I would have to dismiss her although I disliked the thought of sending the poor woman out to fend for herself when she appeared so ill-equipped to do so.”

  “That must have been a difficult decision to make,” Vanessa said.

  “Indeed, it was.”

  “Johnson and Mrs. Royce have been wonderful through all this. She and Johnson plan to marry.”

  Julian looked shocked. “Really?”

  She smiled. “They wish to remain here at the Hall,” she added, noting his perplexed frown.

  “Ah. I wouldn’t want to lose either of them.”

  Vanessa dabbed ineffectually at her ruined skirt with a handkerchief. “I must go and change too. I’m filthy.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  When they entered her bedroom, Vanessa found she didn’t want to discuss the terrible things that had happened in his absence. She just wanted to rest her head against Julian’s chest and smell his familiar reassuring smell, mixed with the faint tang of the sea. But he stalked the carpet, his face grave.

  “What is it?” she asked, drawing in a breath.

  He motioned to the two chairs by the fireplace. “I think it would be best if you sat down.”

  How sad he looked. She wanted to stroke the tense dark ridge of his jaw but kept her fingers curled into her palms to prevent it. She was nervous. He seemed determined to keep some distance from her.

  His sat opposite her. “I want to explain to you why I’m home earlier than expected.”

  “I’m longing to know.” With an encouraging smile, she folded her hands in her lap to hide her trembling fingers and waited.

  What he had to tell her was so awful it brought gasps of horror from her lips. The thing that stuck in her mind was how dangerous this expedition had proved to be. Julian’s life might have been snatched away. It took quite a bit of coaxing to get him to tell her the details. When he told her about Charles and Clara, she released a long sigh longing to reach for him. “Charles Frobisher was an awful man,” she said. “That must have hurt you terribly.”

  He studied his hands where they gripped the arms of the chair. “I lost my temper when he admitted to the affair. Perhaps if we hadn’t fought…”

  “That man would have gone to the village whatever you said. He would have behaved like the immoral man he was.” Had Julian fought to protect Clara’s memory? Disturbed, Vanessa wondered if he was still deeply in love with her. “What happened to Charles had little to do with you. He would have been aware of the danger. Remember the Gospel of Matthew? ‘All they that take the sword shall perish with the sword’. He ravaged native women and defied the villagers’ traditions so surely that prophecy has come true.”

  “I should not have left you the way I did.” He reached across and took her hand. “While in the jungle I had time to think, get things straight in my mind. The mighty Amazon affects you strangely. Witnessing the cycle of life every day you are forced to face your own mortality. The small and weak are eaten by the strong. We are infinitesimal in the scheme of things, Vanessa, and our time on earth is brief. How important it is to do and say the things that really matter.” He pressed his lips against her palm. “You asked me why I didn’t choose Miss Patterson.”

  “Oh yes, I meant to tell you, Miss Patterson—”

  He leaned forward and stilled her his finger on her lips. “I didn’t ask Miss Patterson to marry me because you were the one I wanted, from that first day when you came into my study, nervous and worried about your sketchy knowledge of botany.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “And you teased me.”

  “Did I? I’m sorry. I must have been seeking a connection with you. Subconsciously.”

  She smiled as her heart lifted. “What was the reaction you wanted from me back then?”

  He gave a lazy smile. “You know quite well.”

  “Perhaps I do now.”

  He widened his eyes. “I certainly hope so. I have taken great pains to show you. Perhaps I should show you now?”

  She giggled as he rose from the chair. “The servants.…”

  “The servants have been schooled in discretion.” He left his chair and settled on the arm of hers, stroking her cheek.

  “The inspector,” she said weakly, as her body yearned for him and her resolve slipped away. “I must change.”

  “Yes, I know. It’s broad daylight and the inspector will be here any minute and, no doubt, Blythe is wondering where we are.” He cast her a regretful glance. “I suppose we must wait until this evening.” He folded his arms. “Now what’s this about Miss Patterson?”

  Vanessa rose to change from her soiled gown. She slipped it off her shoulders and stepped out of it. “I’m sure Charles was the man she had been seeing, but she wouldn’t admit to it.”

  Julian drummed his fingers on the back of the chair as he watched her. “It might well have been. Charles could have seduced Queen Victoria herself if he set his mind to it.”

  “I heard through staff gossip that Miss Patterson might be pregnant.”

  He looked startled. “If it’s true, then I’m very sorry for her.”

  “If it is true, she will be devastated to hear of his death, particularly if Charles is the father. She doesn’t like me very much, but I wish there was something we might do to help her.”

  “Let’s deal with our own problems first.”

  “Abigail believed herself to be a modern woman, but I don’t know if her behavior has made her happy.” Vanessa removed a dress from the wardrobe and laid it on the bed. “My uncle described someone who looked very much like Miss Patterson leaving a hotel with Charles early one morning.”

  His brows shot up. “You’ve seen your uncle?”

  “He came to visit us at Christmas, bearing gifts.”

  “Another surprise. Was it a welcome one? Do you want to continue seeing him?”

  “I welcome him becoming part of our lives if he wishes to. He has put me in his will. A property my father was to have.”

  “That was good of him, however, if things had worked out differently, it would have rightly been yours. I’m pleased you’ve reconciled with your family.”

  “I am too.” She noticed the hem of her petticoat was muddy and unbuttoned it, sliding it down over her hips. Going to get a clean one, she said, “It was an argument between his father and mine after all. It’s too late for my uncle to make amends to my parents, but I expect it makes him feel better about the whole affair.”

  “Something happened in Cornwall before your parents died, didn’t it?”


  She nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat as painful memories surfaced.

  “Leave it for another time,” Julian said. “You’ve been through too much today.”

  She found she could face it now. Somehow, the pain had lessened, and she wanted to share it with him. “It’s the day for unveiling secrets. My mother had been sick for some weeks with influenza. We could no longer afford servants by that time. Father was ill too and became irrational after she died. He left his bed and staggered down to the sea during the night. I waded into the water in my nightgown to pull him from the waves. The tide snatched at us and drew us away from the shore. I was afraid we would both drown.”

  Julian sprung from the chair and enfolded her in his arms. “My poor darling.”

  “He died the next day. The doctor said his heart gave out.” She leaned her head against his chest, drawing comfort from his familiar smell. “That’s when I discovered there was no money. And the house was no longer ours.”

  “I’ll make it up to you, my love. I promise.”

  “You already have.” She reached up to touch his face she’d come to love running a finger over his strong jaw. “No more trips, darling?”

  He snatched her fingers and pressed them to his lips. “My only plan is to sit by the fire in my slippers.” His grin as his hand slid over her hip to her bottom, drawing her close against him, made a mockery of his words.

  She laughed.

  “My love.” His lips found her throat as his hands drew her hard against him. The atmosphere in the room became charged. He tugged down the strap of her chemise and pressed his lips to the rise of her breast below her collarbone.