‘But … ’
‘No, Charlie, we aren’t going to talk about it.’
‘Do you at least know if father would have said anything to him about Deerhurst?’
‘I’m certain he did not before we left America. Whether he wrote to him since we parted, I can’t say.’
‘Won’t you get into trouble for leaving your post?’ I asked Henry as we rode across the border into Somersetshire.
‘There’s little enough smuggling done at this time of year,’ said Henry. ‘They’re busy getting the harvest in. Anyway, if I lose the position I shan’t repine. It’s a miserable way to earn a living.’ He gave me a strained grin. ‘If this ends well, perhaps you or Master Robert will give me a place.’
‘How would we not?’ I said at once. But a favourable outcome seemed unimaginable to me.
A long meadow stretched out ahead of us, and Henry urged Cloud into a canter. I pushed Belle faster. She responded valiantly, but she was weary after several days of hard riding. I patted her and praised her and she lengthened her stride.
We fell silent as we left Bath and started up the long hill towards Deerhurst. We rode steadily, sparing our tired horses, both our minds busy with memories and fears. I wondered where my brother was. Had he been lured into a trap? If so, by whom?
‘Henry, I can’t take Belle to Deerhurst!’ I cried as we reached the top of Lansdown Road. ‘I stole her! And Lord Rutherford wants to shoot her!’
‘You’ve no choice, Miss Charlotte!’ Henry replied briefly. ‘Your brother might be there already! There’s neither time nor money to conceal her anywhere other than in the park itself.’
‘My grandparents might help us,’ I said dubiously. ‘Though Mr Saunders … I don’t think he believed me. And now I no longer have any papers to prove it all to him.’
When we finally arrived at the closed lodge gates, the sun was already low in the west. Mr Saunders came out to attend us at Henry’s call.
‘Charlie!’ he gasped when he saw me on Belle.
‘Saunders,’ said Henry, stretching down a hand to him. ‘Do you recognize me? It’s been many years.’
Saunders stared at him hard with a look of puzzlement on his face. ‘It seems to me I do … Bless me! You’re Bridges’ brother!’ he exclaimed. ‘Henry Bridges!’
Mr Saunders flung open the gate and Henry slid down from Cloud and shook him by the hand.
‘Charlie tells me you doubted her,’ Henry said, wasting no time. ‘But you didn’t need to. I’ve watched her grow up. She’s your Emily’s daughter all right!’
Mr Saunders eyes found mine. ‘It’s true then?’ he said. ‘Emily did not die when she left us? And you … you really are our granddaughter?’
I nodded and the old man embraced me, then abruptly released me and turned to the lodge house. ‘Mary!’ he cried. ‘Mary, Charlie’s come back to us!’
Mrs Saunders rushed from the house and cried out as she saw me. ‘Oh, Charlie, I thought we’d lost you too! But why … ? Why did you steal that horse? Don’t you know you’re wanted by the law?’
‘Can we speak indoors?’ Henry asked.
As soon as the horses were hitched and we were in my grandparents’ tiny parlour, he poured out the whole story. Mrs Saunders began to weep softly again as he talked of my parents’ love for one another and how determined they had been to spend their lives together, no matter what sacrifices they had to make.
Mrs Saunders got up and embraced me tearfully. ‘So she did marry young Andrew all those years ago! I’ve grieved and prayed for my daughter for so many years, and now God has seen fit to send me a granddaughter in her place,’ she said.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Henry take Mr Saunders aside and talk to him in an urgent under-voice, after which Mr Saunders disappeared.
Mrs Saunders began a tearful explanation of why she had opposed the unequal marriage and how bitterly she regretted it. ‘For if we’d supported her,’ she cried, ‘perhaps she would have written to me during all those years and let me know she was well and happy and had a fine child!’
Henry broke into her flow of words: ‘She had two, Mrs Saunders, and it is the other child I’m most concerned about at present. Charlotte, as you can see, is very well. But your husband tells me he opened the gate to Robert first thing this morning.’
‘He did?’ I cried.
Henry glanced at me anxiously. ‘It sounds like him. Mr Saunders doesn’t know him, naturally. He only saw a young soldier in uniform who gave his name as Robert Smith. I’ve sent Saunders down to speak to my brother and enlist his help. We need to find out where Robert is now.’
Henry looked at me gravely. ‘Apparently it was a letter from Mr John Lawrence that brought Robert here, Charlie.’
I felt suddenly sick and sank into one of the chairs by the empty fireplace, putting my head in my hands. ‘Oh, Henry,’ I said faintly, once I was able to speak at all. ‘Is it true? Is it Lawrence indeed who … ? Then I am very much afraid I betrayed Robert to him. I spoke about my brother, with no idea that he … that I …’ I stopped, too choked up to continue. My fears for my brother overrode all else. But beneath the fear there was also horror that the man I’d loved might be guilty of such infamy; that all along he was scheming to inherit the estate and title, even to the point of deceit and murder. The shadow of guilt was darkening around him. Mrs Saunders put a comforting arm around me. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘What does young John Lawrence have to do with this? He’s a good man through and through, you can be sure of that.’
‘I fear he has deceived you, Mrs Saunders,’ I said in a shaking voice. ‘Just as he deceived me.’
‘I hope that isn’t true,’ said Mrs Saunders. ‘For he knows who you are, Charlie. He came here and questioned us. I saw no reason not to trust him when he guessed so much already.’
The sound of clattering hooves on the driveway made us all look up hopefully, but Saunders entered the room alone.
‘Bridges has gone into Bath on an errand,’ he told us.
‘That’s unlucky!’ exclaimed Henry.
‘He must have gone through the village,’ continued Saunders. ‘For I didn’t see him here. I asked in the stables and a young soldier did indeed come to the house. Not this morning, but this afternoon. In company with a man who’s been here several times before; the family’s lawyer, I believe. Johnson, he’s called.’
‘The magistrate!’ I interrupted faintly. ‘Henry, he’s the one who was in league with the man who murdered my father. It is certainly him!’
I turned back to Mr Saunders: ‘He was with my brother, you say?’
I got unsteadily to my feet and looked back at Henry. ‘I don’t understand,’ I said to him. ‘Why would the magistrate or lawyer or whatever he is help Robert? Why did Lawrence write to Robert? I’m so confused I can no longer think straight. But I’m terribly afraid. Robert’s in that house alone with people who mean him no good. We must go to him! Now!’
‘Hold on, young Charlie,’ said Saunders barring the way. ‘You can’t just go charging in there! And you’ve no reason to think anyone will be in danger in Lord Rutherford’s house!’
‘Haven’t I?’ I asked solemnly. I shed my jacket and pulled up my shirt sleeve to reveal my bandaged arm. A little blood had soaked through the bandage on the journey. ‘If you’d seen my father’s murdered body, you wouldn’t tell me my brother has nothing to fear,’ I added.
I looked around at their horrified faces. ‘You must all do as you think best,’ I told them, pushing past Saunders. ‘I’m going down there now.’
‘Charlie, wait!’ said Henry. ‘If you are wanted for stealing Belle, you cannot go down there as Charlie the stable boy! That’s a complication we don’t need right now. Put on your girl’s clothes!’
‘That will take time!’ I cried impatiently.
‘It’s time well spent. Quite apart from the theft of Belle, you need to win Lord Rutherford over with your story despite the fact that you’ve no papers to sh
ow him. Appearing dressed as his stable boy would be a disaster.’
It took far too long to get changed. Fretting impatiently, I fought with the buttons and hooks on my old gown dug up from the bottom of my satchel where I’d packed it all those months ago in London. All the time, I feared for Robert’s well-being. He might have been in that house for several hours. What was happening there? I needed to know. A red-eyed Mrs Saunders came to my aid, buttoning my dress for me, brushing my short hair, and threading a ribbon hurriedly into it so it looked more feminine.
‘Thank you,’ I said kissing her cheek.
The two men were waiting downstairs, ready to accompany me. ‘I’m coming too,’ my grandmother told me. ‘There are plenty of things I have to say to his lordship! Off you go!’
She gave me an encouraging push, and we all spilled out of the tiny house. I took Belle out of sight of the carriageway and tethered her behind the lodge house. She was in the shade there with grass within reach. Saunders brought her water and I patted her farewell lovingly, promising to return soon.
Henry swung himself up on Cloud and then reached down a hand to me. ‘It’ll be quicker if we ride down,’ he said. ‘Your grandparents will follow on foot.’
I put one foot on his and allowed him to pull me up in front of him. Henry held me securely about the waist as he wheeled Cloud around and headed along the carriageway at a canter. It was horribly uncomfortable to sit sideways across the pommel, but in my petticoats I could scarcely sit astride. The house came in sight as we reached the brow of the hill. It was bathed in sunshine, sitting at the bottom of the hill, a jewel in isolated splendour in the midst of rolling parkland. The scene couldn’t have been more peaceful. Deerhurst hid its dark secrets well. Behind me, Henry gasped. ‘But the house!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s newly built,’ I explained.
Henry checked Cloud and reined him in to a walk down the hill then trotted him through the gates.
‘To the front,’ I cried, as Henry turned Cloud towards the stable yard. ‘The front door, Henry!’
I dared not waste a moment getting to Lord Rutherford. I slid from Henry’s arm and down from the saddle the moment we reached the front of the house. I ran up to the front door and grasped the bell, sending a peal through the front hall. I stepped back and waited impatiently, rocking on my toes while Henry dismounted more slowly behind me.
Every moment seemed like an age. I was so close to Robert now and yet this vast oak door and thick stone walls still divided us.
At last I could hear bolts being drawn back on the other side of the door and it swung inwards. A very superior-looking butler stood in the doorway, immaculate in his livery and fine, powdered wig. I didn’t remember ever having seen him before, but that was not surprising as I’d so rarely been to the house.
‘I wish to … to see Lord Rutherford!’ I blurted out.
‘Lord Rutherford is engaged,’ said the butler. He looked me up and down in a way that made me acutely aware of my short hair, my shabby gown and my patched, dirty boots.
‘It’s important!’ I said. ‘It’s Robert Smith I’ve come to see. Is he here?’
‘I think the tradesman’s door will be more suitable for you,’ said the butler disdainfully. ‘Make enquiries with the housekeeper there. If you must.’
He shut the door firmly in my face.
‘Wait!’ I cried out, but it was too late. I turned and looked helplessly at Henry. ‘Now what?’ I asked.
‘We must do as he says,’ said Henry stoically, turning to walk around the house, Cloud’s reins in his hand.
It took time to gain admittance through the tradesman’s entrance. Eventually, a footman admitted us to a vestibule just inside the back door. It was simply furnished with a couple of hard-backed chairs and a small table that had seen better days.
‘His lordship does not deal personally with … er … callers,’ the footman informed us as disdainfully as the butler. ‘You can give your message to me and I will convey it to the appropriate person.’
‘Who will that be?’ I asked.
‘That, miss, will depend upon the nature of your communication,’ said the footman, speaking to me as though I were something unpleasant that had stuck to his shoe.
‘Does his lordship have visitors with him?’ I asked frantically. ‘Has a young man called Robert come to see him?’
‘That, miss, I couldn’t take it upon myself to say,’ replied the footman.
‘If I write a message, will you take it to Lord Rutherford?’ I asked.
‘I will take it to Mr Lawrence, his man of business,’ replied the footman coldly. ‘He is occupied today, but either he or his assistant, Mr Brown, will deal with it in due course.’
Henry and I exchanged looks. The expression on Henry’s face told me not to write anything at all that Lawrence might see. But I had no choice. Dressed as I was, no one would ever believe my true identity. How should they, when I scarcely believed it myself?
‘I’ll write him a letter,’ I said at last, ignoring Henry’s gesture to stop me.
‘I will fetch you pen and paper,’ announced the footman. He turned and left the room through a door to the main house. Henry and I looked at one another.
‘Both this man and the butler are new since I left the place,’ said Henry as the door clicked shut. ‘If only my brother were here! He is known and trusted. He would help us!’
‘If only my brother were not here!’ I sighed.
I crept to the door the footman had left through, hoping I might get into the house to search for Robert, but the footman had locked it behind him. We were free to leave through the door we had come in by, but not to gain access to the mansion.
After a few minutes, the lock clicked and the door opened. We both turned, expecting to see the footman again, but it wasn’t him. Instead, Miss Judith stood in the doorway, her golden hair catching the rays of the late afternoon sunshine that reached into the room. I stared to see her.
‘Who are you?’ she asked curiously. ‘What are you doing here?’
Instinctively, I recoiled, retreating into the shadows. I didn’t want Miss Judith to look at me too closely. After Lawrence, she was the person in the house most likely to recognize me. I didn’t believe Lord Rutherford had ever actually looked at me.
‘We are here to see a young man called Robert who we believe has called on his lordship,’ Henry replied cautiously.
Miss Judith looked from Henry to me. Her eyes rested on me, taking in my short hair and shabby gown. A small crease appeared in her brow, but she gave no sign of recognition. ‘If you wish to see Robert, you should come and do so,’ she said unexpectedly. ‘He arrived with my father’s lawyer some hours ago.’
She swept out of the room on the words; we followed eagerly.
‘The excitement is positively non-stop today,’ she said brightly, leading us along a long corridor and through another door. ‘First a long-lost cousin appears and then two more strangers come looking for him and are turned away at the door. I’m dying of curiosity. Who are you, exactly?’
‘I’m Robert’s sister,’ I replied. ‘My name is Charlotte.’
‘This grows stranger still,’ Miss Judith said with a malicious smile. ‘I think I’m going to enjoy this, I really do!’
I didn’t trust her for a moment, but she was taking me to Robert and I cared for nothing else at this moment. We turned a corner and came face to face with the footman. With a pen and ink in one hand and paper in the other, he stopped short, jaw dropping to see us walking through the house.
‘I’m escorting the guests to my grandfather myself,’ Miss Judith told him, waving his incoherent protest aside. ‘You are not needed.’
‘But Miss Lawrence … !’ he expostulated. Miss Judith swept onwards and we followed.
‘I heard you knocking,’ she told us as we mounted a staircase. ‘I was in the room above the front door. Your mistake, of course. You should have gone directly to the back.’ She cast a disparaging glance at my attire as she s
poke. We’d reached the main house now; the carpets were thick, hushing our footsteps. The walls were freshly papered and hung with portraits. Somewhere nearby a clock ticked loudly. It paused, made a grinding noise, and then began laboriously to chime the hour. Six o’clock. It was evening now.
On the first floor, Miss Judith flung open a painted door and walked into a huge salon hung with costly drapes and filled with expensive, polished furniture. I paused on the threshold, blinking at the grandeur before me before I could take in the people in the room.
‘Grandpapa,’ announced Miss Judith. ‘We are overwhelmed with new relatives today. Behold another long-lost cousin! She claims to be Mr Robert Lawrence’s sister!’
I stepped into the room, my eyes desperately seeking Robert. Though I spotted a soldier in regimentals at once, I did not find Robert’s beloved features. I swept the room again. At first I only registered disappointment that he was not present. Then I recognized other faces. Mr Lawrence had risen at my entrance and was staring at me. Lord Rutherford sat in a large chair, his cane resting next to him. He appeared strained and pale. Opposite him sat another man instantly recognizable as the magistrate from London. I’d expected to see him, so he was not as great a shock to me as the man next to him. When I looked at the young soldier again, I recognized him, though he was not my brother. There, sitting in an easy chair, uniformed and groomed and looking very much at home, was my father’s murderer himself, whom I’d last seen on the beach at Studland. He had the same wavy brown hair, the same pale blue eyes and the same mole beneath one of them. There could be no doubt.
I gasped and shrunk back. ‘You … here?’ I gasped, clutching my throat as though I felt his knife there once more.
‘Where I belong,’ said the murderer complacently. His arm rested in a sling, looking for all the world as though he’d been injured in a battle recently.
I looked around me fearfully. ‘Are you all in this?’ I asked.
Miss Judith rustled forward, her silken petticoats hushing and swaying. ‘Do you not know your own brother? You were eager enough to meet him.’
Runaway Page 22
