by Claudy Conn
She was always telling her brother that she knew much more than he believed and tonight she knew exactly what was going on and was heartsick over it. Ned had gone off to meet Celia, even after all her warnings.
This could have disastrous consequences for Ned. Celia meant to have him one way or another and she rather thought that Ned could be seduced by the woman, in spite of what he had told her. He was young and Celia was beautiful and tempting.
A sound at her back, made her turn and she found Roberts, their butler clearing his throat to announce the arrival of Mr. Alfred Speenham.
This piece of news drew a resigned sigh from her as she folded her hands into one another against her middle. It was easy enough for her to smile in spite of the fact that this particular visitor was not welcome, for Mr. Speenham’s figure often inspired a grin.
Her dark eyes looked past Roberts to find a thickset man of average height whose light brown curls gleamed with pomade and whose features seemed blurred in his puffed countenance. He pushed past the butler, saying that he was sure he was if not expected, most welcome.
Mandy nodded at the butler who then withdrew and she was left to stare at Alfred Speenham’s long-tailed coat of bright blue over a florid waistcoat adorned with many fobs. His white-topped boots also caught the eye as he had regretfully decided to decorate the white tops with brass buttons.
Alfred was yet another cousin. His father had married into the maternal side of the family, received his one spawn and the same day his son entered the world, his wife, sadly left it. He became a complacent widower.
They lived some miles to the south of Sherborne Halls, and were more often than not forever popping in on them whether invited or not.
Mandy was only sure of one thing when it came to these two family members—she didn’t know which she held in greater contempt, father or son.
“Amanda darling, how divinely angelic you do appear framed in all that verdure,” Mr. Speenham declared as he smiled broadly and came across to her. “It suits you…most certainly it suits you.”
Already bored and wishing she were elsewhere, she scarcely was able to do more than give him a half smile and say, “Do you think so? I wonder how I may contrive to have just such a background when I move about—since it finds favor in your eyes, so it must in everyone’s.” Mandy returned drily.
He gave her an indulgent smile, “Now, you are jesting with me again, Amanda. Are you never serious, cousin?”
“I am always serious, Alfred,” retorted Mandy, her expression unfathomable.
He narrowed his hazel eyes sharply, obviously uncertain of her meaning behind the words. “I know you have a lively mind, ‘tis why I have told father, we—you and I, should suit.”
“Really, I rather think you and Celia would make a better match of it,” Mandy said, trying to look pleasantly serious.
“Oh no, father does not at all approve of Celia, though he did once say that I would stand more of a chance chasing her than you.”
“Did he say that? Well then, I should listen to him, if I were you,” Mandy said nearly choking on the laugh she swallowed.
He waited for her to be seated and took up a chair opposite her and said casually, “I spotted Ned on my way up the drive.”
“Oh?” Mandy returned, interested, “Alone?”
“Yes, why?” he frowned with a curious gleam entering his eye.
“Did you speak with him?” Mandy pursued, ignoring his question.
“Funny thing, that. Thought he saw me too, but couldn’t have for he darted right into the thicket, away from the drive. Wouldn’t have done that if he had seen me—stands to reason.”
Again, Mandy had to choke back a giggle and said solemnly, “No, of course not Alfred,” she agreed, fully aware that was exactly what Ned would have done had he noticed Alfred coming up the drive. “So tell me, do, what brings you to Sherborne this evening.”
“You,” he replied giving her a longing look.
Amanda found his monosyllabic reply exquisitely humorous and burst into laughter. She knew her cousin was not enamored with her. His interest was purely financial. He wanted to join their two estates.
Her cousin glared at her, obviously taking affront at her under appreciation of his gallantry. His chin went up, “You find that funny?”
She dabbed at her eyes with her lace handkerchief and gazed at him, her eyes brimful with mirth, “Oh, do forgive me Alfred, but yes, yes I do.”
“I don’t exactly perceive why you should,” he retorted much peeved.
“Alfred, you know very well that ‘tis Celia you always come here looking for…not me.”
“I don’t think you understand the situation,” he said on a frown. Celia doesn’t have m’heart. She was just, well, for sport,” he said callously.
Mandy shot up to her feet. While Celia was not amongst her favorite people, she could not allow such talk in her presence, it was too unkind. “You horrid thing! Why, it would serve you right if I were to repeat that to Aunt Agatha, or to Celia herself!”
He immediately shifted nervously and tried to change the subject, “Where are Celia and Aunt Agatha?”
“I don’t know,” Mandy said coldly, again worrying about Celia and her brother and fleetingly wondering why Agatha had not joined her in the parlor as was her habit. Surely she was done eating?
“Now Amanda, you needn’t get into a huff.” He had a moment to think about her earlier threat, “And no sense saying you will go off to Aunt Agatha with what I chance to say. T’would only cause her to get into a pucker. But really, I do wonder where Celia is…I was hoping to catch her here now…”
“What do you mean?” Mandy suddenly became suspicious.
“Had this note from her, rather, m’father had this note from her requesting him to attend her tonight at precisely at seven and of all places, at the lily pond. Makes no sense. M’father was very irritated by it, said he wouldn’t go, but asked me to find out what the deuce was toward.”
“Ah, so that is why you are here,” Mandy arched a brow and gave him a bit of a smirk.
“No, no, you mistake. ‘T’isn’t yet seven,” he retorted hastily. “Hoped I’d catch her here at the house…more comfortable.”
“Then you are late,” Mandy said. “Shouldn’t you go and meet with her?” suggested Mandy wanting to be rid of him. “After all, then you can leave directly afterward and avoid getting caught up by the night and the dark…”
“Now just a moment, Amanda,” Alfred sat up straight. “Do you mean to imply that I, Alfred Speenham, might be afraid of the dark?”
“Certainly not. Are you not your father’s son?” she answered, knowing her mark, for it was a well established fact that Squire Bevis Speenham had several fears, one being about during the absence of light.
Alfred glared at her suspiciously. “Well, I have no qualms about riding home from Sherborne after dusk.”
“You are brave, what with the main pike still in a state of such disrepair,” Mandy returned sweetly.
“Well, that is naught. I shall use Abbey Road,” he scoffed.
She saw that in spite of his bravado she had managed to do what she set out to do and he was already thinking about his ride home. She sighed and said ominously, “‘Tis a good thing that you do not regard the gossip about Bolton Abbey Ruins and all its restless spirits.”
“‘Tis nothing. Bosh! What do I care for old tales! Ghosts, indeed.”
Mandy was not daunted. She had always a naughty sense of fun and rarely reined it in. “Well, as I said, you are quite brave. I for one have not gone near the ruins after dusk, not since Lady Hatfield’s recent experience.”
“Eh? Lady Hatfield’s experience?” He eyed her with growing alarm.
“I think it my duty to warn you since you are determined to take the Abbey Road at such a late hour.”
“Yes, yes, and it will be late, no doubt by the time my meeting with Celia is at an end…but do tell me, what has occurred with Lady Hatfield, for she is a st
eady woman and one must give credence to anything she might say.”
Mandy sat down opposite her cousin and leaned onto her bent knees beneath her pretty blue gown. She had always a wild imagination and gave in to it with her story, “It was already dark when Lady Hatfield’s coach with her inside passed the abbey ruins when suddenly…” Mandy shouted the last word and flung out her arms making poor Alfred jump out of his seat and hold a hand to his heart. She bade him sit and returned her voice to a whisper as she continued. “Suddenly, from over the abbey’s west wing they heard an unearthly cry. It wailed at them and cried for help. They stared through the darkness and found a wolf poised on the crumbling ledge, howling to his pack.”
“A wolf?” cried Alfred. “There are no wolves in the Dales.”
“Ah, but who is to say that for sure? But never mind, that in itself was naught. It was the fact that this wolf glowed. And faith, if that wasn’t enough to make her poor heart beat faster, there…behind it stood the burning form of someone who did not look human. It raised its arms and pointed at the coach and bellowed out a warning to all, growling something about being death…and should they come nigh he would have them.”
“Death? Have them? Not human? How can that be?” Alfred asked nervously.
“I am sure, I do not know, and Lady Hatfield asked her man to investigate the next day, but when he did, he fled the ruins, claiming that someone rattling chains, someone not of this earth reached for him…”
“Chains? Rattling…chains?” Alfred stood up.
“Indeed, and as he mounted his horse to flee, he heard the sound of a man in agony as though he were being torn to pieces by wild animals.”
“This is dreadful…dreadful…” Alfred began pacing as he obviously envisioned the situation.
“Precisely so. Lady Hatfield ordered her servants to stay away from the ruins and she refuses to even drive by it during the day. She warned me not to go near the abbey—day or night.”
Alfred gulped as he digested this and finally said, “Pray, Amanda, I have no wish to disturb your peace of mind regarding my safe journey home. I have decided to stay the night at Sherborne.”
Mandy’s mouth dropped for that had not been the end result she had been looking for when she had freely embellished Lady Hatfield’s story. “Stay here? Oh, no Alfred, you could not wish to do such a thing. Why your father will be expecting you and worry.”
“Bosh,” said Alfred. “He will assume that I have remained the night at the Halls, and at any rate, you can send a lackey to him with a message.”
“Well, Alfred, really!” snapped Mandy, glaring at him. “If you are afraid to ride home in the dark, I certainly shall not put a man out to make the trip back and forth. It is outrageous. We do not treat our servants thusly at the Halls.”
“You have an odd set of behavior with regards to your servants.” He shook his head, “Ghosts and such creatures wouldn’t bother with a lackey, but a Speenham, well, stands to reason the fiendish things would want a crack at me.”
She was so flabbergasted at this pronouncement and this way of thinking, that she did not immediately have a ready retort.
He rubbed his hands together and said, “Well, if you don’t wish to send a lackey, fine, but Amanda darling, do you think you could send for refreshments?”
Chapter Three
SIR OWEN TURNDALE wandered carefully down the deer path that dissected the woods surrounding the lily pond. His thoughts were at war with his heart.
He lusted heartily for the fair Celia, and making love to her had been more than satisfying. She was an exotic piece of fluff, but her letter seemed emboldened even considering their intimacy. What did she want?
He had decided to come earlier than she had prescribed, as she had made the mistake of threatening him in her missive.
He couldn’t allow her to go forward with her threats. That was clear. He knew in that moment he would do anything to stop her from interfering with his future.
He found her alone, and she had started on him immediately.
She had turned into a shrew right before his eyes. Where had the lovely seductress gone? He certainly hadn’t meant to raise his hand…
But, she had infuriated him with her threats. He had to keep her from telling Amanda about their affair. She had laughed at him. She had said she would tell Amanda that he had been making delicious love to her even as he courted Amanda. He couldn’t allow that, could he? He hadn’t meant to…
Now however, he had to get away unseen.
He pulled at his beaver hat and hurried to his horse, tethered to a tree not far away, but scarcely visible in the deep of the dark woods.
He had enjoyed his single life and the truth was he was not ready to relinquish it, but he had played hard and fast and found himself at point non plus. He was left with scarcely a sou to his name and Celia would ruin everything if she turned Amanda against him.
He winced as he saw himself raising that hand to Celia…he had turned into a monster.
Desperation had made him think he must shut her up. It was all he had cared about at that moment. He couldn’t allow her to ruin everything he had accomplished with Amanda Sherborne.
The lovely heiress seemed flattered, amused, intrigued and a touch enchanted with his efforts. It was a start, a good start.
He got on his horse and started for the house, but a sound in the forest bordering the drive, made him turn and peer into its thick growth of trees. He saw the figure of a man weaving down a trail.
He waited, frowning, uncertain. He didn’t want to be seen coming away from where he had left Celia.
He stood for nearly five minutes before he made up his mind to continue up to the house and visit with Amanda.
He took up his horse’s reins and started for the drive when he heard a horrified male shout for help.
What the devil? That was Ned Sherborne’s voice. He was almost sure of it—so it had been Ned making his way through the woods?
Had Ned seen him with Celia…or coming away from her? The thought made him blanch and once again he tethered his horse before running toward the short path that would take him toward the sound of Ned’s voice.
The day was certainly growing dimmer, but it was a clear summer evening and not yet dark. He saw Ned visibly distressed not more than twenty feet ahead and said, “Ho there, Sherborne…what is toward?” But the lad couldn’t speak, only point for he was standing over a very still young woman’s body.
It was Celia.
Her lovely form fitted yellow muslin gown was bright against the green grass. Ned’s face held a grim look of disbelief, as he seemed to find his voice and stammer, “‘Tis Celia…she has been strangled.”
Sir Owen put the distance between him and the woman on the ground away with long hard strides. He bent and surveyed Celia’s still form, before he released a long breath and said grimly, “Indeed…my word…one can see the mark from a pair of strong large hands…” Sir Owen’s voice trailed off.
Ned shook his head, “Strong hands? But who…who would do such a horrible thing?” He ran a hand through his uncovered blond hair and nearly sobbed, “Oh my God. Dead. But why? Who would even have known she was going to be here? I was late getting to her as I thought she meant the other larger pond, went there first. I don’t understand any of this. It doesn’t make sense.”
Sir Owen did a quick scan of the surroundings and returned his attention to Celia’s lifeless form. He frowned and asked Ned, “May I ask, Lord Sherborne, was this statue in its present form when you first arrived on the scene?”
“Statue?” Ned asked absently, his eyes still staring at Celia with disbelief. “No, no, when I saw her lying there…I knocked it over in my haste to get to her.”
“Then, Miss Brinley was already…lying there when you first arrived?” Sir Owen asked, still frowning.
“Yes—of course. What kind of a question is that? Do you think I would not have stopped whoever was…?”
“May I ask why you happen to
be here?” Sir Owen cut him off.
“If you must know, I had an assignation with Celia for seven this evening. I was late. If I had been on time…I could have saved her.”
“What I would like to know is why she asked you here…when I too was sent a missive to meet her.”
“Why are you standing here asking insane questions? Blister it, Owen! Someone has strangled Celia!” Ned thundered beside himself with disbelief.
“Indeed, someone has.”
* * *
Some hours later, the servants and household were in a state of buzzing commotion. The doctor had been fetched and added yet more distressing information with his announcement that Miss Celia had been murdered and that he agreed with Lord Sherborne, and Sir Owen, that it appeared as though someone had strangled her with their bare hands.
This piece of news delivered quietly, solemnly and as kindly as the doctor could muster, still served to prostrate Celia’s stepmother. She was taken away to her room as she cried and carried on and declared that Celia, even in death, brought scandal down upon them.
The doctor hurried off, he said to notify the town magistrate and the assembled party took a moment of quiet as each considered the enormity of the situation. Mandy was heartsick, for while she and her cousin had not been friends, she had always felt a bit sorry for Celia. Besides that, no one deserved to have their life ended in such a way.
Mandy looked at her brother, but he appeared as though he was at a loss for words as he stared out the window.
She turned to Sir Owen and Alfred wishing they would go, and contemplated them and their reaction to Celia’s death. It was evident to her that neither man seemed more than mildly distressed over the loss of the young woman and yet, she knew both had been interested in Celia.
Her brother, on the other hand, was very distraught, and she moved to put a comforting arm about his waist.
“We must talk about this,” Alfred announced suddenly.
“Oh, Alfred, do stop always trying to sound so dashed portentous. Why must we talk?” Mandy returned on a frown. All she wanted was to be left with her brother. If anything was to be done, it was up to them to do.
