Chapter 17
... position, secured for you at great difficulty. After this show of blatant ingratitude you need expect no further aid from me.
Excerpt from the letter of the Reverend Gregory Rivenwood to Melissa Rivenwood, July 10, 1818
Melissa was awakened by Betty, bringing in tea. The maid approached cautiously, uncertain whether to awaken her, but Melissa was dragged out of heavy slumber by some unformulated, urgent imperative in the back of her mind. She sat up. Groaning, she looked out the window. The storm had broken. Bright sunlight streamed in. She clutched her head. It ached abominably. Her nose was stuffy, and the inside of her mouth tasted foul.
Betty set the tea down next to her. “I hope you feel better this morning,” she said, watching Melissa anxiously. “Robbie’s quite recovered. Dr. Cathcart was by to see him early this morning and says he’s going to be out of bed by tomorrow. But we none of us would want you to be the one to suffer for it, you being the one who found him and all.”
Memory flooded back. Robbie. Listening at the window in the library. Giles planning to kill the boy. The absolute necessity of reaching Harold and getting Robbie away to safety.
“Good God!” she exclaimed. “How long have I been asleep?”
“It’s short of noon,” Betty said complacently. “I knew you needed your sleep. Sleep’s the best medicine. That’s the cook’s tisane does that. Got laudanum in it. Works every time. I must say,” she went on, not at all noticing Melissa’s look of stark dismay, “it seems to have done you a world of good. You have much better color this morning, if I do say so.”
Melissa sprang up, throwing the bedcovers aside. She ignored the pounding in her head determinedly, but the world was an exceedingly painful place. Cold water from the basin helped a little. Then she dressed. It became a major undertaking just to tie herself into her damp shoes.
“Tell me quickly,” she demanded. “Where’s Mr. Bosworth?” She saw Betty standing there perplexed and, more important, silent, and she infused more authority into her voice. “Don’t just stand there. Where is he?”
“Well, miss, I’m sure I couldn’t say exactly. He walked out toward the north preserve with Mr. Tarsin after breakfast, that I do know. But whether he came back in or not, that’s a different matter. But no, I think not. I would have heard,” followed by interminable detail of the respective duties of various maids and why Betty would have heard.
Was it Harold’s turn to be the victim of an accident? Melissa wondered. She might already be too late. She ran from the room, leaving a puzzled Betty behind her. She took the steps two at a time. There was no sign of anyone in the gardens. She’d try the woods. She cut through the forest along one of the little paths and ran toward the cliffs. This was where Miss Coburn had fallen. She had a terrifying premonition that a second tragedy had been enacted there today.
Her hair straggled in elflocks down her neck and flew behind her as she raced blindly down the path to the sea. Abruptly she ran into a man blocking the path. Her heart leaped into her throat. She thought it was Giles. Then she gasped in relief. It was Harold, at last.
“Mr. Bosworth!” she panted, clinging to his coat. “I’ve found you, thank God. I had to find you to tell you.” She took several deep breaths. “He’s going to do something terrible unless you stop him. Robbie’s in great danger.”
Harold, not unnaturally, stepped back in some confusion from the uncivilized spectacle the girl was creating. He demanded sharply, “What are you doing here? What do you want?” He held her at arm’s length and stared at her suspiciously.
“I’m looking for you,” she babbled. “I must warn you. Listen to me. Those accidents Robbie’s been having, the fire, the robbery, and … and his fall yesterday, they aren’t accidents. Giles has been trying to murder him. Do you understand? You’ve got to help me. We’ve got to get Robbie away from here. I’ve got to put you on your guard.”
“On my guard?” Harold echoed strangely. Melissa saw the look on his face, and her heart lifted. Maybe this was not such a broken reed to lean upon. There was a glimpse of something steely under the vague, soft exterior. “On my guard?” he repeated. His eyes wandered over her shoulder and searched the empty path behind her. “I’m always on my guard against him. You don’t need to tell me about that.”
“You mean, you know?” Melissa was bewildered. “But how long have you known? Why haven’t you done anything to protect Robbie? He could have been killed last night!”
Was Harold so weak and thoughtless that he’d allowed a murderer to have charge of the boy all this time? She was indignant. Then she realized that he must have misunderstood her. No wonder. She forced herself to calm down and speak collectedly. “They plan to kill Robbie. I found out only last night. I was in the housekeeper’s room, and I heard Sir Adrian and Giles talking in the library. That’s what I’m trying to say. Do you understand? Do you believe me?”
“I believe you,” he said simply. Hope was dawning in Melissa’s heart. He couldn’t have taken her news any better. Between the two of them they’d save Robbie.
“I have proof,” she said. “I mean, not solid proof exactly. But I’m not making any mistake. They are trying to kill him. It’s not just something I’m making up. The robber was there with them, the man who robbed our coach. They were paying him off to keep him from talking. I heard the whole thing. They’d planned for him to shoot Robbie during the holdup, but he changed his mind. So last night they gave him money—”
Harold interrupted in a strange voice. “You actually heard them talking to the robber? Here? At Vinton?” His calm broke. Melissa thought he’d finally realized what she was talking about. “That’s impossible,” he said. His chin gobbled up and down in denial.
“I swear to you, I heard them. Giles gave the man money to go away. Any hour now, any moment, they may get through to Robbie and kill him. They’ve already killed Miss Coburn. And last night they … They mentioned you. They said you mustn’t find out what they were planning. When I heard you’d gone out this morning with Giles, I was afraid he might already have tried to do something to you.” Melissa grabbed his coat frantically. By sheer force of will she had to convince him. He had to get Robbie to safety. Let him not fail her now. “Robbie is in terrible danger! You’re the only one who can do anything about it. There’s no one else I can turn to.”
Harold stood rooted to the spot. His eyes were downcast, hooded in shadow. Only his mouth moved in his frozen face, his lips pushing in and out. He had a stark look, giving his placid visage a dignity she’d never seen there before. His hands clenched and unclenched, clenched and unclenched. “You came to me for help, Melissa,” he said. “Thank you. I knew I could trust you.”
“I don’t want thanks. I want you to do something,” she said with more frankness than tact. “Think. What are we going to do? Tell me.”
Harold didn’t lift his eyes. Melissa thought: This must be painful for him. I’ve got to make allowances. He’s a kind man, and he’ll have to turn his own cousin over to the law. There’ll be a trial, public disgrace. Or perhaps Giles can be made to leave the country quietly. Melissa tried to picture him a penniless exile in some European city. Her mind revolted. Giles would never submit to that.
“Have you talked to Lady Dorothy yet?” he asked.
“No. I couldn’t. I was afraid the shock would kill her. I haven’t told anyone yet. Who could I expect to believe me?”
It might be, if they were clever and strong, that a public scandal could be avoided. “If we offered them money—Giles and Sir Adrian, I mean—and if we threatened them with exposure, maybe they would agree to go abroad.”
Harold sighed. His face was pale and heavy. He looked much older, his own age or more. Silently he took her arm and urged her in the direction of the cliffside, out of the woods, to where the sea gulls were crying on the wind. “Come out here,” he said. “We must talk. It’s not going to be easy. It’s all been much harder than I ever dreamed it would be. There simply is
no end to it all. It never does end. Do you understand what I mean?”
Melissa wished he would show a bit more concern and less philosophy. She wanted to confront Giles at once. Robbie was in danger during every minute they wasted here. “No,” she said impatiently. “I don’t know what you mean. Can we go back to the house now? We must find Giles as soon as possible.”
“He’s not at the house,” Harold said quietly. “That’s why I brought you out here. I wanted to show you where he is.”
“Out here?” What did he mean by that? There was nothing here but the cliffs and the woods and below them the sea moving slackly in and out between the rocks. There was nobody in sight, and Melissa was in no mood for puzzles. “Please, Mr. Bosworth,” she pleaded, “there’s no time for this. We have to find Giles. Don’t you understand? He’s deadly, incredibly deadly.”
“Not anymore.” Harold’s voice was stronger, rising over the wind. The sea breeze was in his face, pushing his thin blond hair away from his brow. He became excited, almost jubilant. “He won’t hurt me again. You didn’t have to tell me that Giles hated me. I’ve always known that. He fooled the others, but he never fooled me. I knew.”
“I didn’t,” Melissa said in a small voice. “I swear I never had any idea.” She, too, looked out into the sea. It wasn’t easy to admit to herself what she had felt, but it was all over now. She might as well be honest. She couldn’t love a murderer. Everything had broken apart and fallen back into place so differently. It couldn’t have been love. She’d been dazzled, fooled, overwhelmed, enslaved. Use what word you liked. It had felt like love. But it couldn’t have been. “Where is Giles?” she asked.
“Down there. He’s in the sea.” Harold’s face had a look of unearthly calm. “He didn’t get very far after all, you see, Melissa. There’s a path over there that leads down to the caves. You don’t have to look far at all.”
The sunlight spilled over the breakers below. Melissa wished Harold would stop acting so peculiarly and help her. It was desperately important. Did he mean to say that Giles had gone down the cliffside to the shingle? A full, incoming tide was no time for rock climbing. “Mr. Bosworth, please,” she said distractedly, “I know it’s hard for you. But we’ve got to find him. Do you have any idea where he might be?”
Harold nodded slowly. “I told you.” He pointed down to the water. “He’s in the sea cave, just where I left him. The dead don’t walk. The water may wash him out to sea when the tide falls. Or then again, it may leave him in the cave. I don’t know. But the dead don’t walk on their own.”
“Dead!” Melissa blurted in astonishment. “What do you mean … dead?”
“I took him down here to the sea, Melissa. I said I had something to show him. He thought it was something about Miss Coburn, you see, because this is just where she went over, poor lady. So he came with me. Then we walked down here.” He unbuttoned his jacket, and it swung open. Some heavy object in his pocket was distorting the fall of the cloth and making one side swing back and forth like a pendulum. “It was early, before ten o’clock. That was good because the caves are still uncovered then. But it was bad because I had to wait a long time for them to fill up. They didn’t hear the shot up at the house because of the ocean. This is a very good spot for that. You can’t even hear screams from here. I had to do it, you know. There was no other way.”
Melissa felt sick. She could feel her knees shaking beneath her. Giles dead. It was impossible to believe. “No other way?” she repeated dully. “There must have been another way. Whatever he’d planned to do, there must have been another way.”
“No, Melissa,” he said softly. “It was the kindest way. It was very quick. And the ocean will come and wash all the blood away. He would have killed me if he could have. So I had to do it. I had no choice. I knew all about them, Giles and Adrian. They never fooled me. But it was very clever of you to discover them. How did you do it, by the way?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Melissa said brokenly. Giles was dead. Giles had been shot to death by this posturing old fool. She closed her eyes and tried to blank out the sunlight and the whole world. How could he have done it?
“No, I don’t suppose it matters. There was blood, a lot of it. But the sea will clean that up when the water fills the cavern. It should be full soon. I didn’t get any on me. I was careful about that. He didn’t know I had the gun until the last minute.” Harold patted the pocket of his jacket fondly. “It took only one shot, and he stopped moving at once. I’ve been waiting up here until the tide goes out and I can go in for lunch.”
“The only way?” Melissa began to laugh hysterically, “And then you’ll go in to lunch?” And she’d thought he was too weak to help her! He was a dozen times more ruthless than she’d ever be.
“This was supposed to be the end of it all,” Harold told her gravely. “Robbie would have been gone. There was the fire and then the robbery and then the bridge and that laudanum to finish it off Giles would take the blame and die out here on the cliffs. That was the way it was supposed to go.” •
“What do you mean, that’s the way it was ‘supposed’ to go?” Melissa demanded. After a minute she said, “And how did you know about the laudanum? I didn’t tell you about the laudanum.”
They were very silent. Then Melissa said, “How did you know that this is where Miss Coburn fell? It could have been anywhere along the cliffs.”
“You see, Melissa,” Harold said gently and regretfully, “you weren’t supposed to come into it at all. It was all very simple: first Robbie, then Giles, and then Dorothy. Very, very simple. Miss Coburn could have lived. You could have lived. I don’t have anything against you.” He took the gun out of his pocket.
Melissa felt a shaking cold work its way from the pit of her stomach to her extremities. For the first time she looked straight into his eyes. His pupils were contracted to pinpoints. He was quite mad. It was apparent that she’d made a dreadful mistake.
Melissa began to back away from him. “I don’t understand what you mean,” she said weakly.
“It’s taken me such a long time with Robbie.” Harold’s brow creased fretfully. He gestured with his free hand petulantly. “It was going to be so easy, so ... so elegant. I wedged the door to the nursery closed with a little chip of wood. The fire was just right, smoky. It would have killed him without harming the structure of the manor house. Then I left the key there. Everyone should have blamed Giles. They should have suspected Giles. He was the one who stood to gain a fortune. But nothing happened. Robbie didn’t die, and nobody suspected anything. It all went wrong somehow.”
Harold frowned down at the dueling pistol and ran his hand fondly down the smooth barrel. “I’ve reloaded it,” he said. “It carries a single bullet because it’s sporting that way. I always try to kill with a single bullet. It worked on Giles. Did you know that? I wonder if I should use a pistol on Robbie. He’s been so hard.” He considered the matter with calm concentration.
Melissa tried to edge to one side. Harold moved closer, cutting off the path to the woods and forcing her back toward the cliff. “Why do you want to do this, Harold?” she asked in an unnatural voice. She tried to sound low and soothing. “You know I don’t want to hurt you. I’m your friend.”
Harold glared at her resentfully. “No, you’re not. I had Robbie finished for good out at the summerhouse. You interfered. You had no right to do that. You’d stop me now if you could.”
Melissa backed away from him. Then she couldn’t back any farther. She had come to the edge of the cliff.
“It’s all your fault. If I’d gotten Robbie out of the way, Giles would have been the guilty one. Nobody would have been surprised if he had killed himself then. But now there are going to be all kinds of questions. I may have to wait months before I can kill Robbie. And it’s all your fault.” He grimaced at her with an outraged expression,
Harold wrapped both hands lovingly around the butt of the pistol and pointed it directly at her. Suddenly it seemed very
important to know one thing, to know why this was happening to her. “Why, Harold?” she asked pleadingly. “Why have you done all this?”
Something in her voice must have reached him. He blinked. The glazed look left his face. “Why, for the money, of course. Dorothy’s money,” he said reasonably.
“I’m sorry for Robbie. But it was the only way to get the money from him.”
“The money. What do you mean, the money?” Melissa asked blankly. She was beyond consideration for her own safety, beyond surprise. Soon she would be dead just like Giles, leaving Robbie alone with this madman. “What does Robbie have to do with Dorothy’s money?”
“It’s the Tarsin money. Giles and Robbie, they’re the last ones, the very last. When they die, there’s no one to inherit with the name in the fifth degree. I looked it up. That breaks the entail. Then the money goes to the female line. And the only one left is Dorothy. She gets it all. And she’s left all her own personal fortune to me. So when I kill her, I get all of it. You see how simple it all is?”
“You’re mad,” she gasped, reckless of safety.
“Not mad,” Harold said indignantly. “I have a right to it.” Strangely, in his agitation, his voice had gone high and squeaky. “I have a right to it all. She cheated me. I have a right to kill her and take the money.” His face creased like a petulant child about to cry,
He yelled at her, waving the pistol about, “She made me nothing, nothing, do you hear me? She stole away everything I might have been by her bloody whoring around. I’m Harforth’s son, Harforth’s, do you hear. I should have been the eldest son. I should have had the title, the estates. But that would have been too embarrassing for her highness. So she didn’t marry him until J was already born. She gave him a nice clean son with a nice clean claim to the title, and she made me a bastard, all to protect her own damn bloody name!”
Harold stood in front of her, gasping for breath. His eyes were spinning pools of insanity. “Oh, yes, I’m going to enjoy killing Dorothy. But until Robbie is dead, I’m going to be, oh, so very careful of her life. She mustn’t die until the time is right. Oh, no. She’ll have to wait her turn. And then maybe I can make it last a long time. I haven’t decided yet how I’m going to do it.”
Her Ladyship's Companion Page 18