The Duke's Dilemma

by Fenella J Miller

  Fifteen minutes later the sound of heavy footsteps and the murmur of well-modulated voices were audible in the stairwell. Only then did Hester began to fear she might have made a dreadful mistake and invited the enemy into the very heart of the Hall.

  *

  It was still dark when Ralph addressed his inadequate band of heroes. They were gathered in the wavering lamplight in the warmth of the stable block. Robin and Tom he could rely on as they had already proved their mettle, but his driver, Fred, was too old for this kind of action and Seth and Robert had no experience of firearms.

  ‘You already know where we’re going and why, are there any further questions you wish to ask before we leave?’

  The men looked at Robin, who had resumed as second-in-command now the matter of ghosts had been laid to rest. ‘It’s like this, your grace, how do we know what that man said about the number at Bracken Manor is right? I’m not saying he was lying, but he’s not been there and more men could have joined the gang.’

  ‘It’s possible, but unlikely. Until this morning the roads were impassable, and if reinforcements have been sent for they can’t be there before us. I remember the manor from a previous visit; it’s more isolated than here. Remember, we’ve the edge; they’re not expecting us.’

  He nodded a dismissal and turned to tighten Thunder’s girths, leaving Robin to organize the others. He swung into the saddle unhindered by his sword; his years of practice during the war made it look easy. Today Robin was also armed with a cavalry sword as well as his pistols. They both knew how to use them.

  The stable doors were open and he urged his mount through and the others clattered behind. Seth and Robert were competent horseman and had cudgels strapped to their saddles; they’d also shown him the wicked knives secreted in their top boots. Ralph would be in a better position if he had a couple of rifleman along, but too late now to worry. He would succeed with what he had; he had no choice.

  The wild ride across country was unpleasant. His tricorn hat and heavy riding coat were scarcely adequate to keep out the driving rain. He had issued weatherproof coats to the three men and was glad that he’d had the forethought to do so. He needed all his men alert and responsive, not frozen to the marrow.

  The first grey light of dawn greeted their arrival on the narrow track that bordered the grounds of Bracken Manor. He wasn’t sure how well secured the premises were, or if his opponent would have the sense to post sentries. He would have done so, but then he was a cautious man. He raised his arm and swung his horse round to face them and they gathered near in order to hear, the lashing rain meant his words barely carried.

  ‘If my memory serves me, there’s a small path running into the park and it’s this we’re taking. The horses must stay here and shelter under these trees; it’s barely adequate but will have to serve. Remember, we mustn’t be seen. Pull your hats down and cover your faces with your mufflers. Whatever you do, don’t look up, if anyone is watching that will give us away.’

  Fred was taking care of the horses; he would remain there and carry a message to the local magistrate, Squire Norton, if they failed to return within the hour. It was not fool proof, but the best he could do.

  *

  Bertram Sinclair was sure that by the end of the day he would be the rightful Duke of Waverley and that the obstacles that presently stood in his way would have been removed. He would be able to remove himself to London, resume the life of wealthy man about town and wait to hear with suitable surprise that the title was his.

  His men had their instructions. It had taken them until the night before last to master the intricate mechanism that opened the way into Neddingfield Hall. Until that was done he’d had to bide his time, do all he could to terrify the remaining occupants, but had been unable to complete his masterly scheme.

  This and the snow had been as much a hindrance to him as it had been to the major. His men needed to dispose of the witnesses, all five of them if necessary, and then they could release the man held captive. They would transport him back to where he had been taken and leave him to run babbling to the Hall where he would discover it deserted. This time he’d sent two of his own men down to the cellar; this was not a job to leave to hirelings, they’d tell him what he wanted to hear just to get his money.

  A strong gust of wind sent smoke billowing out from the chimney and he retreated, as he had done countless times before, coughing and swearing. Whilst waiting for the room to clear he walked over to the window, the draught whistling through easing his lungs. There were no curtains and the shutters were in sore need of repair, which was why he kept candles to a minimum. He wanted no one to know Bracken Manor was occupied.

  The smoke from the kitchen range, and his own fire might well have been seen, but hopefully those who saw it would assume vagrants have taken occupation for the winter and wouldn’t investigate too closely. As long as no busybody called out the militia he was safe.

  Jones had instructions to kill the girl and her companion as well as the major, and if necessary anyone else who they thought might blab. The bodies were to be taken back through the secret tunnel and buried in the cellar then the brandy barrels stacked on top would be a makeshift grave.

  More than thirty years had passed since the smugglers had used this hidey-hole and he doubted even they would dare to come close to a place where people mysteriously disappeared in the night and ghostly howling was heard and flashing lights were seen. His lips twisted in a smile. That dog the men had spoken of was adding to the atmosphere of menace.

  *

  Hester wished she’d kept her pistol, but she’d returned it to Ralph the previous day believing she would have no further use for it. Where was Jet? He was as good as any pistol - hadn’t he already killed two men?

  Her heart thumped and she clenched her fingers in her lap. She would send Polly to look for the dog; convention might dictate she shouldn’t be alone with one gentleman, let alone two, but everything was topsy-turvy at the moment. She rose gracefully as the door opened, and Polly announced the visitors as though she was ushering them into the drawing room and not an overlarge hallway in the servants’ quarters.

  ‘Mr Siddon and Mr Siddon are here to see you, Miss Frobisher.’ The girl moved allowing the men to step forward.

  Both men were elderly, and if there was anything villainous about either of them she would eat her best straw bonnet. She stepped forward nodding her head in greeting. ‘Gentlemen, it’s a pleasure to see you. I must apologize for the unusual accommodation, but we are sadly understaffed so had no alternative but to close down the Hall.’

  Mr Siddon, the senior of the two brothers, bowed formally. ‘Thank you for agreeing to see us, Miss Frobisher. We’re Miss Culley’s lawyers; it’s on her instructions we’re here. We are aware you have no staff and have come to explain why she was obliged to leave you in such a predicament.’

  ‘Pray be seated, gentlemen.’ She sat and waited for them to arrange themselves side-by-side on the day bed. They looked like a pair of black crows sitting on a fence. ‘I have been told my aunt has removed to the Continent and has taken her staff with her.’

  The two exchanged glances and nodded sagely. ‘Exactly that, Miss Frobisher. Your aunt has long been a dear friend of ours and we’re sorry to see her go. However, there are other things I need to explain to you.’ The two exchanged looks a second time. ‘We understood that fortuitously his grace is also staying at Neddingfield Hall. We had hoped to be able to speak to Lord Colebrook also but he’s not here.’

  She hid a smile behind her hand. Did they think she hadn’t noticed his absence? ‘We’re to be married in three weeks’ time, so it’s in order for you to give me any information you might have.’

  ‘In that case, Miss Frobisher, we see no obstacle.’ More nods and looks. They were becoming more farcical by the minute. ‘Your aunt has settled the property jointly on you both – I have the title deeds here to give you. You’re to do as you wish with the estate. Miss Culley has no objection to
you selling it, though she would prefer you to make your home here.’

  ‘It’s certainly a possibility. We shall be here for the next few weeks as we intend to marry at the church.’

  The rattle of cups heralded the arrival of the promised refreshments. Polly rushed across in a flurry of skirts and held the door open for Meg to stagger in with a laden tray. Over tea and hot scones she discovered the lawyers had been snowed in and had been happily ensconced at the Jug and Bottle.

  ‘Gentlemen, do you intend to return directly from here to Town, or shall you be staying a further night at the inn?’

  ‘We shall stay one more night there, Miss Frobisher, it’s most comfortable and the food plentiful and excellent. Indeed, it has been almost like a little holiday for us.’

  ‘In that case, sir, would you do me a favour? I should like you to take three letters with you Mr Jarvis will send one of the potboys with them. I’ve not written them, so could I ask you to remain for a little while longer whilst I do so?’

  The elder Mr Siddon replied. So far all his younger brother had done was nod and smile. ‘We shall be delighted to wait. Could we possibly have a little more tea and some more of these delicious scones whilst we sit by this delightful fire?’

  ‘Of course, Polly shall go downstairs immediately and fetch fresh. The missives are short; it won’t take me many minutes to accomplish my task.’

  In the privacy of her shared bedchamber she opened her escritoire. Relieved she had a pen with a decent point she removed the cork from the ink bottle and wrote her first note. This was to the vicar, one Mr Blunt. In it she requested that he attend Neddingfield Hall in order to arrange for the banns to be called

  The second was to the local magistrate, Squire Norton, briefly explaining what had been happening over the past days and asking for him to call out the militia and arrange for the removal of the corpses from the outhouse.

  The third was to Mrs Jarvis asking if she could spread the word that there had been no ghosts at the Hall, but villains, and to ask the staff who had abandoned them if they would like to return. She sanded the paper and folded each, carefully sealing them with a small blob of wax melted with a candle flame.

  The lawyers departed replete with scones and conserve and with the promise to see the notes were delivered to Mr Jarvis. Satisfied she had done all she could to help she went downstairs to talk to Birdie about the visit.

  ‘It’s almost ten o’clock, why hasn’t Ralph returned? He promised this visit to Bracken Manor wouldn’t take long.’ She stopped horrified by her mistake, praying the revelation that she’d seen Ralph last night might past unnoticed. It had not.

  Her companion’s expression changed. She waited for the bear garden jaw to start, but instead the air was rent by a hideous scream and Meg fell into the kitchen her face covered with blood.

  Chapter Twenty

  Thank God the rain had stopped. Ralph knew it would be far easier to negotiate the quagmire that faced them without the added misery of horizontal rain. He viewed the stretch of open ground with disfavour. This was the only section in which they would be visible if they walked upright. However, by slithering across on their bellies they would be screened by the laurel hedge that bordered the kitchen garden.

  He checked his pistols were secure, then twisted his sword belt so the blade rested in the small of his back. His heavy riding was so long it reached almost to his feet, and with luck it would keep the worst of the mud from his person.

  Dropping to his knees he began the slow, messy business of transferring himself, like an overlarge slug, across the mud bath. The sound of muttered curses came from behind, but knew no one balked at their unusual method of progress.

  By using his forearms and toes his body was kept mostly clear of the ground, he hoped the others were as successful. The brown sludge began to seep through the thick material of his cloak and his pace increased. Arriving breathless, although relatively dry, in the shelter of the bushes he rose to a crouch then ran to the rear of the kitchen garden where to wait for the others to catch up.

  The front of his riding cape was heavy with mud so he discarded it. He would have had to remove it in order to fight, so it made little difference leaving it here. His topcoat would have to suffice for the rest of this excursion. His lips twitched as he swivelled his sword back into place on his left hip and checked his pistols were dry.

  When his men were assembled behind him, their filthy coats heaped beside his own, he went over their next move. This was a critical part of the exercise. They had to reach the house undetected; they were outnumbered and could be picked off by rifle fire if spotted.

  He checked everyone was ready then they began the slow creep forward, along the far end of the hedge, down an overgrown path towards the outbuildings. He assumed Robin and Tom were close behind him and the grooms were bringing up the rear. The noise of stamping and chomping coming from the stone building, the clanking of buckets and occasional muffled shout, confirmed this building was the stables.

  Were these innocent servants or part of the murderous gang? It made no difference; they had to be overcome, gagged and restrained. Apologies, if needed, would be given later. He beckoned for Robin and Tom to follow and for the other two to wait. Then keeping his head down and with his muffler fixed round his face he hoped his dark topcoat would make him blend into the grey walls.

  He paused to peer through an unglazed window. As expected, there were two men taking water to the beasts inside – most of the stalls were occupied and there were no more than a dozen horses, not the expected eighteen or so.

  Did the empty stables indicate half a dozen men had already left to investigate why their comrades had not returned triumphant the night before? Far too late to turn back, he was committed. His attack would be swift, and if things had gone awry, they could gallop back and be in time to prevent a tragedy.

  He ran round to the stable doors, pulling out his pistol, holding it by the barrel, intending to use the handle as a club. The two grooms were knocked unconscious without a murmur; they didn’t see him coming.

  ‘Tie them up, stuff rags in their mouths, I don’t want them shouting a warning. Find an empty store room and dump them.’ He turned to Robin, speaking quietly. ‘I think I might have made a grievous error; it’s possible that as we rode here six men left and are on their way to Neddingfield. We must do this quickly; Hester’s life depends on our return.’

  If the bastards got hold of her he would capitulate and they would have lost. He would willingly give his own life and anyone else’s, in order to keep her safe.

  The rear of the building was the best place through which to secure a safe entry as staff working there would be less likely to be armed. His boots was so clogged with mud his feet stuck unpleasantly with every step he took and he paused to scrape them clean. The kitchen door was unlocked and he pushed it open, listening, poised to move in an instant. All he heard was silence.

  He slipped around the doorjamb into a deserted passageway. God, it was cold in here! There was the clatter of pots and pans in a room off to his left. He indicated Seth and Robert should deal with whoever was in there. With a pistol in each hand, ready to fire, he ran light-footed into the main part of the house. His breath steamed in front of him and he wondered what sort of man was prepared to live so frugally and yet employ a dozen or so men to commit murder at his behest.

  Keeping to the edge of the flagged hall, he inched his way round towards the sound of voices coming from the closed doors ahead of him. This must be the main drawing-room; if was correct at there should be doors to the rear that led to a dining-room. He gestured to Robin and Tom and mouthed the words dining-room. Robin nodded and ran off down the next passageway to locate a second entrance.

  Ralph was ready, his pulse normal, hands dry; eyes like green glass. This was the moment he’d been waiting for these past two weeks, the denouement, and he prayed it would not be just a confrontation but an end.

  He stepped close to the doors, pr
essing his ear against the crack, he listened. Yes, there were at least two people inside. He closed his eyes trying to imagine the precise whereabouts of the men in the room. They there were not by the windows, so they must be in front of the fireplace.

  Transferring both guns temporarily to his left hand, he released the catch that held the doors and then returned the pistol. Taking a deep breath, he raised his boot and smashed it open, bursting into the room his pistols pointed in the direction of the voices.

  The two men nearest to him were dressed in plain cloth coats, breeches and poorly cleaned top boots – these were hirelings, not the master. As they spun round mouths agape, he fired. His aim was deadly and they both tumbled to the floor to join their comrades in Hades. Pushing his useless firearms into his belt he drew his sword in a single sweep and before the man who had caused him so much grief could do more than blink he was facing death at the end of the blade.

  .’On your knees.’

  The man collapsed in an abject heap at his feet, visibly shaking, defeated. Ralph felt a rush of relief – it was over. He forgot his earlier qualms, forgot that there were six missing men riding towards Neddingfield at this very moment.

  This quivering object was the man behind it all; he glared at him with interest. Could this nondescript person he monster he was seeking? He heard a noise behind him and glanced sharply over his shoulder. Tom and Robin were coming in through the double doors that led from the dining room.

  ‘Find some rope and tie him up, then get something stuffed in his mouth.’ He turned back and prodded the heap on the carpet with his sword. ‘Get up you snivelling coward – sit on that chair. I’ve questions for you and you’ll answer them if you wish to live.’

  His erstwhile opponent scrabbled, crablike, to the chair and hoisted himself onto it like a penitent child. The man kept his head lowered, his thin shoulders shaking visibly.