‘Miss Frobisher, your dog’s gone right past us, I think he’s scratching at the attic doors,’ Polly told her.
‘Quickly, take your shawls and come with me. Jet wants us to follow him; something terrible has happened and we need to hide. Close the doors to both the rooms. Be quick! We haven’t a second to lose.’
Knowing the lives of the others depended on her courage and intelligence she led them forward, pushing her despair aside. If they could find somewhere in the depths of the attics to hide it would give them time and Ralph might still return to save them.
‘Bring candles and a tinderbox, girls.’ Birdie grabbed Meg’s arm and half dragged her towards the staircase that led up to the attics. Hester was glad Polly needed no second bidding; the girl snatched up two candlesticks and rammed the tinderbox in to her apron pocket before joining the others at the stairwell.
‘All right, Jet, we’re coming.’ She opened the door and the dog padded ahead of them, calmer now they were following him. Holding her candle in front, she tried to see where the animal wished them to go. He worked his way through piles of debris, old chests, broken chairs and a miscellany of unwanted items.
She stopped and looked around. ‘Look, Miss Bird, take the girls and go behind that row of trunks. If you crouch down I’m certain you’ll be invisible.’ They didn’t argue, just hurried over and vanished into the gloom.
‘Excellent. I can’t see you; I’m going to hide with Jet. Whatever happens, whatever you hear or see, don’t come out of hiding until … well, until it’s safe.’
The only thing that might reveal the whereabouts of the other three were the footsteps they’d left in the dust. She removed her cashmere wrap and, bunching it up in one hand, swept away all evidence of their passage. Her dog began to growl, his hackles rose. She must hide or be discovered.
Her dog was quivering with anger, knew that someone was coming, and they didn’t wish her well. A hideous moaning and the sound of clanking chains split the night. Her hair stood on end; an icy shiver run up and down her spine. Only Jet’s weight pressing against her side prevented her from crying out.
He was poised beside her, ready to pounce. She wondered what the other three were thinking as the shocking noise drew nearer. The sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs reverberated round the attic; after each footfall there was an ominous thump as if something heavy was being dragged behind. She buried her face in Jet’s fur and prayed for deliverance.
*
Ralph, lantern swaying wildly in front of him, tore back along the underground passageway until he reached the secret entrance that led into the Hall relieved it had been left open. He hadn’t found his pistol so headed for the gun room. There was no point in racing upstairs until they were armed.
This side of the building was quiet, the men from the cellar had to be somewhere in the house, but noise coming from the servants’ quarters couldn’t be heard here. Not bothering to keep his passage silent he crashed into the room and stopped.
Where the bloody hell were the keys? There was no time to waste searching - they needed the weapons: it was imperative the cupboard was opened immediately. After putting his lantern down on a shelf he looked around the room for something to use as a lever to break open the cabinets. ‘Tom, James, find something to prise the lock.’
‘Here, your grace, this should do it.’ James threw over a heavy iron file, one which used by a smith to pare down a horse’s hoof. Whilst they gripped the edge of the door he forced it into the crack and threw his weight against it. The door sprang open. Snatching the handguns, he tossed two to Tom, one to James and kept the last two for himself.
‘Take powder and shot; quickly, they’ve been here too long already. Load your pistols - have them primed and ready to fire.’ Whilst they were still fumbling, he removed a sword and belt from the rear of the cupboard and strapped it around his waist.
‘Remember, we have the advantage of surprise but there are seven of them. Be ready to fire at any moment. Keep the lanterns low and hold them behind you whenever we approach an entrance.’
He ran back, but as a he reached the corridor leading to the rear of the building he slowed. He walked soft footed to the first staircase still unable to hear evidence of an attack ahead of him. Keeping his shoulder to the wall he arrived at the head of the stairs and paused to listen again. Nothing. He beckoned to the others and they also slid into the makeshift sitting area.
In the light of his lantern he could see the four doors were open, both parlours and bed chambers empty. Ralph thanked God that Jet had arrived in time; Hester had taken everyone to hide somewhere safer.
‘The attics. They must be up there,’ he mouthed.
With lanterns at floor level he moved down the corridor to the second staircase, freezing, as a hideous moaning echoed from the stairwell followed by the sound of chains clanking on the ground. Despite the certain knowledge that they were dealing with mortal men his stomach clenched and icy sweat broke out on his forehead.
‘Bloody hell! What’s that?’ Tom whispered.
‘I know what it sounds like, but remember these men have set themselves out to frighten us; to convince us we’re being attacked by supernatural forces. What better than rattling chains and ghostly moaning to terrify us into submission?’
‘And they’re doing a bloody good job of it, your grace. I hate to think what the ladies will make of it.’
There was barely a minute to position himself and his men before the women were discovered
‘Make sure your pistols are cocked and shoot to kill. Don’t give anyone a second chance.’
He heard James’s sharp intake of breath - the lad thought his orders harsh - after all hadn’t these same men captured him and left him alive? But neither James nor Tom had heard what he had; all this masquerading was merely a means of reaching Hester and himself in order to dispose of them. He wouldn’t let that happen.
Removing his pistols from his belt he handed his lantern back to Tom, gesturing for both men to stand behind the door. He wanted no light to filter onto the stairs and warn the bastards. He was calm; his pulse steady; his mind clear. He was a soldier and this was a battle he didn’t intend to lose.
He tried to guess where his opponents were. As he hesitated there was a canine roar of rage and a man screamed in agony. This was his chance. They would be distracted. He burst into the stairwell only to find he was behind a group of men who blocked the exit, all rooted to the spot. The frightful noise of the dog savaging one of their comrades in the darkness had them petrified.
He raised his gun and shot the nearest man; the sound announced his presence as nothing else could. A second man turned, levelling his own pistol, but Ralph was too quick for him and his second shot exploded. The man fell dead, tumbling head over heels towards him. He swung himself over the body and it tumbled harmlessly the bottom. Not waiting to see if his men were ready to fight he erupted into the attic prepared to dispose of the rest - single-handedly if necessary.
*
Hester knew the men were close, the clanking and banging had stopped but she was sure there was someone breathing a few yards from her hiding place. Gripping her pistol more firmly she clicked back the pin so the gun was ready to fire. The noise sounded loud in the darkness and she prayed it hadn’t revealed her.
This slight movement seemed to tell her dog now was his turn to act. With a snarl of rage he launched himself over the top of the trunk hitting the first man squarely in the chest. She heard the man screaming and then the darkness was rent by cursing and shouting. This was her opportunity.
By peering above the barrier she could see there were several men already in the attic. It could only be a matter of time before they were all taken. She had to protect the others. Raising her gun she pointed it at the man who was belabouring her dog with a club, trying to dislodge him from his death grip on his comrade’s throat. Then there was the deafening sound of gunshots.
One, then another, and she added to the caco
phony by pulling her trigger. Her aim was true and the man with the club fell with a grunt to the floor. He lay across the body of the man he’d been trying to protect. It would be wise to remain where she was, behind the trunk; she’d done her part – now Ralph must do his. He was here; the gunshots from the stairwell told her so.
*
Ralph saw the dog tearing the throat from one man whilst another rained blows on the dog’s head and shoulders with a cudgel. He leapt forward, drawing his sword. Before he could intervene Hester appeared from behind a row of trunks and, pointing her pistol, pulled the trigger.
He dropped to the ground as a further fusillade of shots ricocheted around the attics, the smoke from the guns making it impossible to tell friend from foe and his enemies were firing indiscriminately. He gestured to her to stay put, she nodded, vanishing once more; her dog remained on guard, growling, warning anyone against approaching.
‘Tom, James, to me.’ He rolled to one side as a shape loomed above him. Raising his sword he stabbed upwards and the blade slid into solid flesh. The man he’d cut staggered away groaning horribly. How many more of them were alive? Where the hell were Tom and James? In the melee the lantern had been kicked over and plunged them all into darkness.
Tom’s reply came from the direction of the stairs. ‘We’ve killed one of the bastards, your grace, James is shot, but he’ll live. I’ll stand guard; no-one will come down without me seeing them. I have three pistols loaded and waiting.’
The remaining men registered the import of Tom’s words. They were trapped. All he had to do was keep them away from the ladies; if they took one of them hostage he would have to surrender and all would be lost.
He had excellent night vision and crouched in the darkness waiting for his eyes to adjust. Tom’s lantern sent just enough light spilling from the doorway to make it possible to see. Seven men had passed him when he had been hiding in the underground passageway. He’d killed two, Hester and the dog had disposed of another two, Tom and James one more each; that meant there was one man left in the attic.
Yes! He could see him edging slowly towards the stairwell; Tom and James would be an easy target, the lantern showing up their outlines. He couldn’t allow this last man to reach them.
In one fluid movement he was on his feet, sword raised. The man collapsed with a crash as the sword pierced his heart.
Ralph straightened, looking round for the man he’d sliced earlier. He saw a fourth body and shrugged. It was over. The seven men were dead. A pity the injured one hadn’t survived long enough to be questioned. He’d let the militia sort that out when the weather cleared and he could send another message to fetch them.
He heard muffled sobs coming from behind another row of trunks and guessed this was where the other ladies were hidden. ‘Tom, bring the lantern; we need to get the ladies away from all this mess.’ He heard them shifting behind the trunk. ‘I should stay where you are, Miss Bird, let me sort things out before you bring the girls.’
‘I understand, your grace. We shall remain where we are until you tell us to move.’
He saw the light approaching and headed towards it. ‘How’s the boy, Tom?’
‘I’m shot in the shoulder, your grace, but not about to meet my Maker.’ James answered cheerfully. ‘I can help you and Tom tidy up.’
‘Excellent; don’t overdo it - we have sufficient corpses already.’ Ralph dropped his sword on the floor not wishing its bloodstained blade to be seen. ‘Hester, sweetheart, you stay where you are as well. There are things that need doing before you come out.’
‘I know, we’re unharmed; thank God! I knew you’d come.’
He heard her swallow back a sob and wanted to go and her take her in his arms. The thumps and bangs on the stairs indicated the corpses were being removed from there. There was just sufficient light for him to drag the bodies over and drop them on top of the two that had fallen by her hiding place.
He hoped that in the darkness they might be invisible. There was nothing he could do about the congealing blood on the boards; he’d just have to guide the ladies past and pray they would be so concerned with finding their way in the gloom that they wouldn’t notice.
The dog was no longer growling and greeted him by banging his tail on the hollow side of the trunk. ‘Well done, old fellow, you’re a fearsome beast, but without your help this could have had a different ending.’
There was the sound of shuffling and his beloved spoke to him, her voice steady, her previous distress under control. ‘I’m coming out. I refuse to crouch behind here a moment longer. I just killed a man and watched my dog tear the throat out of another. It’s far too late to consider my sensibilities.’
He held out his hand to guide her and she walked straight into his arms where she belonged. ‘My God, you’re shaking. Sweetheart, it’s almost over. We can send for the militia tomorrow and let them find out who’s behind all this.’
She didn’t answer, she was pressing herself against him and despite the circumstances, he felt the all-too-familiar tightening in his groin. He smoothed his hand up and down her spine and she relaxed against him.
‘All clear down here, your grace. Shall I come up with lanterns? James is safely on the daybed – he’ll do for the moment.’
‘Can you hang a lantern in the stairs, Tom? I don’t think we need further illumination up here at the moment.’
The man understood. ‘Very well, your grace, I’ll come up with both hands free.’
Ralph called to the others. ‘You may come out now, Miss Bird. Take care where you walk. I suggest you go straight to the kitchen, its warmest there and you must be chilled after your sojourn here.’
‘Of course, your grace. I believe a restorative drink would be beneficial before we think of retiring tonight.’
Miss Bird was a treasure. Keeping his arm firmly in place he waited whilst this paragon escorted her two charges from their hiding place.
*
Hester saw Tom arrive and hurry over to assist Birdie and the girls. The three women stumbled past the pile of corpses apparently unaware of their presence and vanished downstairs. She was content to remain where she was, loving the feeling of Ralph’s arm around her and feeling his strength slowly restoring her equanimity.
Something Tom had said finally registered. James had been shot; he was wounded and still untended. She allowed herself to be guided to the sitting area where Birdie was waiting, the girls had continued down to the kitchen. She saw James stretched out, his face ashen, jacket blood soaked and forgot her own discomfort.
‘James, lie still whilst I fetch my bag. We must stop the bleeding.’
‘No, my dear girl, allow me to take care of James. You go downstairs; you have much to discuss with Lord Colebrook.’
‘If you’re sure, Birdie. If you need any assistance call me at once.’
‘Come along, darling. Miss Bird is going to take care of James. He’s lost a deal of blood, but the shot passed cleanly through his shoulder. He’ll make a full recovery.’
Hester didn’t argue; his words were to reassure her and the patient for he hadn’t had time to examine James, neither had he spoken at any length to Tom about the young man’s condition. The good Lord had taken care of them so far, she would leave the matter in his capable hands.
The kitchen was warm, the range still burning brightly and candles had been lit. She stopped, puzzled. ‘How can this be? Who has been down here and opened the range and lit the candles?’
Ralph kissed the top of her head. ‘Look, the candles are almost burnt out and the range no
doubt the same. It was left like this when all the fuss started. My dear, Polly and the other girl must take care of you. Tom and I have go back and assist Robin and the two grooms.’
She stared at him in bewilderment. ‘I thought you said everything was over, that we’re safe and now you tell me you’re leaving again.’ She was hysterical but she couldn’t bear to think of him going back into danger for a second time that night
.
Chapter Seventeen
‘Sweetheart, I shan’t be gone more than an hour or so. I must be sure the last two villains are secure.’ One of them had better be breathing so the man could be interrogated. Her lips quivered and he almost changed his mind. ‘Please, don’t wait up for my return; when you have had a hot drink, retire. We’ll talk in the morning.’
She was going to protest but he forestalled her. Stepping close, for the second time that night he embraced her in full view of the servants. She snuggled against him and he tightened his hold; ignoring the circle of interested spectators he lifted her from her feet and covered her mouth with his. Never had he felt such passion; tomorrow when things were settled, whatever the weather, Robin would ride to find the nearest vicar.
Reluctantly lifting his head he whispered softly in her ear. ‘I love you, and intend to marry you as soon as it can be arranged.’ As she slid down his chest, her softness aroused him further. Her eyes told him his feelings were returned.
‘I’ll take hot water and drinks up to James and Birdie; Godspeed, my love, come back to me safely.’
Unable to reply, he raised one hand, seeing too late there were blood smears on it, and caressed her cheek. Unbothered by the gore she covered his and smiled sweetly.
‘Your grace, shall we take the dog with us?’ Tom spoke from behind him, sharply reminding him of his pressing responsibilities.
‘No, he’s done enough tonight; Jet can stay here and guard the ladies.’
The return journey down the passage was made at speed, the necessity for silence and secrecy over. Both pistols were reloaded but the sword still languished on the floorboards in the attic so the belt and scabbard had been discarded. The danger was over; Robin was an expert at springing an ambush and the guards were either dead or captured by now.
The Duke's Dilemma Page 15
