Chapter 10
Alex strode through the stable yard scowling. He’d checked for the hundredth time that all was in readiness and of course it was. Tom knew his work well and was as determined as he to catch this gang once and for all. The stable was watched each night, two grooms always in the loft, and another waiting with a saddled horse, ready to ride to raise the alarm. He himself would, from this night on, stay in the stable block, armed and ready, while his conspirators were stationed at points around the estate, each keeping watch. One in the local public house, it is likely that the thieves might wish to fortify themselves before such a venture, and one in each of the coach houses guarding the roads leading to Llangorfan. All was in readiness and that was not the reason he was scowling.
Once again the cause of his discomfort was his wife, and discomfort was most certainly the problem, his discomfort, and brought about by her. There was no doubt about it, she was hell bent on causing his death by sheer discomfort and the whole household seemed to be in collusion with her. Rooms not heated, the chaos that seemed to accompany a small child wherever he went and then there were the meals! He had been convinced that cook had lost her mind, but upon questioning Evans found that all changes were at her ladyship’s orders. When the lady in question was called to account, all he received by way of an explanation was the assurance that she was acting on the best advice on eating for health and a long life and as he had demanded she run his household, she would do so in whatever way she saw fit. Catherine had accompanied that last barb with a dry little smile before picking up the odd little dog that accompanied her everywhere and flouncing out of the room. He would have to deal with it, but until this business was over with he felt little inclination to take on his wife. One foe at a time he thought ruefully. Though last night’s meal had left him wondering if he’d survive. White soup to start, who on earth came up with a recipe for white soup? Then Cod a la Béchamel, cook must make the damn béchamel sauce by the bucket-load as it, or some derivation of it, seemed to coat every dish, savory or sweet. The boiled chicken had been cooked to the point of jellification and it too sported the inevitable sauce. Even the cheese he favoured over sweet was the antithesis of what a good cheese should be, pale, salty, crumbling and too young to have matured even the slightest bit of flavour. He’d eaten little and partaken of too much wine, maybe the wench was out to drive him to drink himself to death.
‘Tom, all in order? It should not be long now. They have always come back at night and within the week of selling the animal, tis four days now and I have a feeling we will not have to wait much longer. The fair is moving on and the gypsy will want to move with them. It makes no sense for him to stay alone.’
‘Aye milord, if they mean to sell her on, they seldom sell an animal more than three or four times and this one’s been sold at three auctions since she was taken from Lord Rockston.’
‘I know Tom and if they mean to put an end to her they will still steal her back before shooting her.’
‘Tis an awful thing to think of shooting a pretty little mare like this un, what sort of a man does such a thing?’
‘One with no conscience and no feeling except greed, when I think of how many good animals, valuable animals, have been lost already, my blood boils. That black thoroughbred belonging to the Earl of Wardley had unmatched bloodlines and was priceless, sickening waste of a fine animal. I just wish I’d been quicker off the mark after I’d recognized him, but by the time I’d made some enquiries it was too late. All we can do now is try to stop them doing it again, I and Lord Edgar along with Mr. Stayton and Mr. Waring are determined to put an end to them once and for all. We’ve the backing of no less a man than the Home secretary himself. Once it had become clear that the leader of the gang is a member of the peerage, he called us together and arranged for the hunt to be stepped up. It’s taken a few months and some difficult work, but after tonight we will have them behind bars, of that I’m determined, so look sharp Tom, we’ve a night’s dangerous work ahead of us all.’
The men had reached the stalls where the bay mare in question was housed, she nibbling uncaring at her hay as the men looked her over.
‘Does Rockston know you have her milord?’
‘No Tom, we could not risk that he would insist on having her back, we need her to bait our trap. I’ll be glad to get it over with and no mistake, then we can get her back where she belongs.’
‘I’ll have the lads back in place by nightfall milord and with luck we’ll have em tonight, all trussed up ready for the law to deal with em.’
‘I would not lay a bet on that my man.’
Alex and Tom spun around, only to face a pair of pistols leveled at their chests by Sir Hector Barrington. Behind him two stout fellows stood grinning alongside the gypsy. He was grim faced and held in his hands a halter.
‘Very interesting conversation you two were engaged in Tremayne. So all is in readiness for tonight is it? Just as well we are early then. Then there were the details of the plan to capture us, the Home Secretary no less, I am honoured, I did intend to sell this little mare one more time before disposing of her and moving on. It seems that now, thanks to you, I must change my plans as I now find myself yearning for a warmer climate and one less fraught with peril.’
Alex cursed himself for a fool. To assume the gang would stick to previous form and only plan accordingly was to show a naivety of the criminal class that was bordering on criminal itself, but that was exactly what he’d done. Now his companions in the venture were not here to help and that left himself and Tom in a very precarious position. Barrington had shown himself to be ruthless, at least three good pieces of horseflesh ruthlessly disposed of and a groom badly injured already. There was no telling how far the man would go.
‘The game’s up Barrington, whatever you do here today, you will be caught. We have three men on hand to hunt you down. Give it up man, you cannot win.’
‘Oh Alex, Alex, by the time your friends get here I’ll be long gone. Half way to Dover on that Arab stallion of yours, having just made one short detour to collect the results of this little venture. I’ve enough in the safe to keep me in comfort for quite a while, then once in France, I’ll make one last sale, he’ll fetch a good price before I disappear.’
‘We’ll find you Barrington, make no mistake about that.’
‘Ah now that’s where you are wrong, your men may try to follow, but by the time they’ve put out the fire and found your charred remains along with your groom and the mare. It will be far too late. Now move into the tack room, both of you and no tricks it would be a shame to have to plug you and raise the alarm.’
‘What about the girl, you promised me the girl?’
The gypsy moved forward, his dark eyes glittering hate at Alex.
‘She’s mine, she was always meant to be mine till this un came along and stole her.’
‘Get that halter on the Arab stallion first, then you can go find your little filly.’
‘How do you like the sound of that Alex, your pretty little widow will not be lonely for long after you’ve fried in here. Nice thought to end your days with, don’t you agree? I may even sample her myself before handing her over to Jem, I find myself curious to discover if your wife tastes as sweet as did your sister.’
Alex made to start forward in disbelief, but Barrington held the pistols to his chest.
‘Ah I see the truth begins to dawn. I did promise you’d pay for not selling Llangorfan to me as I asked. Did you think I’d travelled all the way to find you in Italy only to return with nothing? When you refused to sell I decided I’d get it another way, and for nothing. I knew your sister went every day to the river, mooning over Calthorpe, hoping he’d come back, so that’s where I took her, sweet she was too, for a milk faced little virgin. All I had to do then was wait a bit to make sure she was carrying a brat and then you’d have been glad enough to see me offering my hand, and Llangorfan would have been little enough to pay in return for my saving your family name
. But the bitch threw herself in the river and spoilt it all. You always were an arrogant bastard Tremayne, and you’ll die an arrogant bastard, but you’ll also die knowing you made the biggest mistake of your life when you denied me Llangorfan. I may not be able to have it now, but I’ll have taken everything else. I’ll take your wife like I took your sister, then I’ll head for the channel on that Arab of yours.’
Alex saw red, it obliterated all sense of danger and he lunged at Barrington intending to knock him off balance and prevent him aiming the pistols when he fired. It worked too with both barrels firing harmlessly into the air. What went against him though was the presence of the two fellows behind Barrington. They stepped over his prostrate and cursing form and the last thing Alex remembered was his head exploding as a large fist made contact with it.
Catherine was in the garden when she saw the first signs of smoke coming from the eastern end of the house. At first she’d thought it must be one of the gardener’s small fires, but as she watched the thin plume of white smoke it thickened and billowed upwards almost to the roofline of the castle and she realized with dread that it could only be coming from the stables. Dropping the trug basket of flowers she’d been cutting for the house, she scooped Scrap up and thrust him into Guto’s arms.
‘Here take him and run to the house, raise the alarm, there is a fire in the stables, they will know what to do. Everyone will go to help so you must stay with Emiliano, keep him and Scrap safe indoors.’
The boy nodded, grabbed the pup and ran towards the west door as fast as his legs would carry him. Stable fires were dreaded by all who lived and worked on the land, and he knew that if anything was to be saved, time was of the essence. Catherine picked up her skirts and made for the shortest route to the stable, past the west door, skirting the front of the house, she ran as fast as she could towards the main stable entrance.
There was no smoke here yet, so the fire must only just have taken hold. Hearing the clatter of horses hooves on the cobbles of the yard she felt hope raise in her breast. The grooms must be getting the horses out, but could they get all six out in time? They would be so terrified of the smoke and flames that even the four steady carriage horses would not be easy to control. Al-Ashab and the new thoroughbred mare Alex had bought at the fair, highly strung at the best of times, would soon become too difficult to handle. She knew that often such horses panicked so badly they became impossible to rescue and perished horribly in the flames. The sound of hooves on cobbles came closer and she saw Al-Ashab, a rider on his back, appear from between the gateposts of the stable entrance. Her first emotion was relief that Alex was safe and the horses must be too, else why would he be riding for help? Then she realized that the rider was not Alex but Lord Barrington and he was bearing down on her very quickly. Before she could react to this unexpected turn of events, he was by her side and reaching down in one fluid movement, caught her up and dumped her face down over the saddle in front of him, knocking the breath out of her lungs. He wheeled the animal around and headed off over the parkland as a scream rang out. At first Catherine almost thought it was her own involuntary protest, until she saw, over the fat, buckskin covered thigh she was pressed down on, the enraged face of Jem Cutler as he ran after them yelling. That was when she knew with dread that this was no accidental fire, but a part of something eminently more dangerous.
She tried to think, but her brain could make no sense of it, why was Barrington stealing Al-Ashab? Cutler, it was obvious had something to do with that, but where was Alex, and why had he and the grooms not stopped them? She knew Jem Cutler was dangerous, she’d felt it each time she’d stolen out to ride Romany, but her love for the horse had made her steel herself against her revulsion of him, and she’d returned time and again, despite the growing knowledge that he meant both her and the horse harm. Oh Lord, they must have set the fire, and if that was so then the grooms and maybe Alex had been unable to stop them. They might even now be laying dead or injured, leaving no-one to rescue the horses. With equal certainty she knew what Barrington wanted with her, she remembered the feel of his moist lips lingering on the back of her hand, the lecherous look in the pale eyes that held hers for a fraction longer than propriety allowed, she felt sick and her brain rebelled. Energized with rage and a compulsion not to capitulate to this beast, Catherine began to struggle violently.
‘Be still you idiot or you’ll be thrown.’
She paid no heed to her captor’s growled warning, better to be thrown, even from this height and at speed than to be mauled by her captor before being murdered. For he did intend to kill her once he’d had his pleasure, it would be nothing to him to silence her after the other crimes he’d probably committed this night. She renewed her struggles, putting every ounce of strength into it and when still he held her captive, she turned her head and bit hard into the fat thigh beside her face. She heard him cry out in pain just as the weight of his fist hit the back of her head and the world went black.
Guto leapt out of the window and ran as fast as his legs would carry him, dodging the adults that ran, each to his or her post to fight the fire. Around the walls of the front of the house still warm with the remnants of the day’s sunshine, he raced to the stables. His only thought was to get a horse and somehow ride to rescue her ladyship. He’d been in the small parlour she favoured with Onesta, the little boy and the pup as she’d instructed, fully intending to do his duty and look after them. He was telling Onesta to leave them and go to help fight the fire, when he’d seen Barrington snatch his lady and ride off across the park.
He reached the stable yard, thick with smoke now and resonant with the shouts of the rescuers and the fearful squealing and stamping of the horses. The staff were forming lines with buckets as they’d often practiced, each a link in a chain that would bring water to quench the flames. A horse came looming at him through the smoke and he dodged aside. It was being led by what he first thought was a groom, then he recognized the dark features of a gypsy from the fair. Guto turned to grab at the halter but the gypsy was too fast, pulling the animal clear of the yard, scrambled up onto its back and riding off in pursuit of Barrington.
Guto ran into the thick of the smoke, heading for the stable door, if the gypsy could get a horse then so could he. Coughing, eyes streaming, he made his way by feel into the building, here all was heat and smoke and chaos. Disorientated Guto began to falter, the noise was deafening, horses mad with fear stamped and squealed, and the thought of trying to lead one out was terrifying. But then there was his lady, stolen by Lord Barrington, at his mercy and everyone knew what he was like with women. Many a tavern wench had shown the bruises of an encounter with him. The village boys relished such tales, gleaned from the hanging around the back doors of the local hostelries. It was said he beat Mary Tyler senseless. He began to struggle with the bolt of the nearest stall, heart drumming as he listened to the terrified animal inside banging and thrashing about. It would not budge and he began to cry in frustration. Then he heard the banging, it was coming from the tack room he supposed, but he could not see that far through the smoke. Someone was shouting, though he could not make out the words, maybe they could help if only he could bring them over here to help. The fire was at the back of the stables, in the hay loft, and as a consequence the smoke and heat were greatest above the tack room. He could not see, could hardly breathe, tears and sweat mingling as they ran down his face, but he found the door. It was bolted and there was a fearful banging coming from inside, someone was trapped. Guto fumbled for the bolt, it was high above his head but he found it and it was almost to hot to touch, but he grasped it and pulled, to his relief it slid back easily. Immediately the door was pushed open and a man stumbled out coughing and spluttering as he supported another on his shoulder. Guto grabbed his arm and without hesitating he led them back the way he’d come.
All three collapsed in the relatively breathable air of the yard, gasping for breath and coughing uncontrollably. It seemed to Guto it took forever before he coul
d begin to form words and even then he could not make himself heard over the commotion around him. Tom the head groom was first to stir, shaking his lordship and speaking urgently, though Lord Alex seemed slow to respond.
‘Milord, we must move the horses before the whole place goes up, the water will not be enough and the mare and the carriage horses are still inside.’
The man was shouting and slowly it seemed as if the words penetrated and Lord Alex rose shakily to his feet. He and Tom made to re-enter the stable, shouting for help, but before they had taken more than a few steps the yard was filled with the clatter of hooves as three horsemen entered at a gallop. Pulling their mounts to a stop they dismounted shouting.
‘Alex what the hell happened? Are the horses out?’
Tom the groom was quick to seize the opportunity of fresh help.
‘There are five inside, including the mare, come on before it’s too late. You stay here milord you’ve taken quite a knock, we have this in hand now.’
Guto was still coughing, as Anwen brought a jug of water. She saw to Lord Alex and then made Guto drink, easing the burning in his throat and lessening the cough. Once again he tried to make himself heard, but again the din of shod hooves on cobbles drown him out. The men were bringing the horses out, they had wrapped each animal’s head in wet sacking and so calmed them enough to lead them into the safety of the yard and from there out onto the grass of the park.
‘There’s still one inside, but I couldn’t make it out, one of the carriage horses. We have to go back inside.’
Tom made to move off, but Guto found his voice, ‘no sir, the gypsy took one, you have them all.’
Then having got their attention, he went on, urgency making his voice shrill.
‘I tried to stop the gypsy, but he was stronger than me, he followed Lord Barrington and her Ladyship. Oh milord he stole her ladyship, grabbed her from the terrace and rode off with her. I tried to get a horse to follow to help milady but...’ Guto broke off sobbing.
Vengeful Lord, Defiant Lady. Page 15