‘Who are you? What’s your name?’
The man’s head jerked up and Ralph recoiled. Before his eyes his captive transformed into a slim man, a little older than himself, no more a gibbering wreck than he was. The hate that blazed back at him reminded him forcibly of the missing men.
‘My name is Lord Colebrook, the Duke of Waverley, or it will be before this day is done.’ The voice was clipped, aristocratic in tone; everything was explained by those few words. Ralph’s throat filled with bile, he swallowed. The laugh that followed was the sound of a madman. ‘Gag him. Throw him in the nearest closet. We have to get back; we have no time to waste here.’
They roughly trussed the man and carried him out to the hall, there was more likelihood of a cupboard at the rear of the manor and Ralph went ahead frantically opening doors until he found a boot room in which to toss him. The putative duke was safely incarcerated. He looked up as Seth and Robert appeared from the kitchen.
‘Is everything secure in there?’
‘Yes, your grace, there was a simpleton and an old fellow; we locked them in the cellar, they’ll raise no alarms down there.’
‘Good. We have to get back; the missing men are on their way to Neddingfield. There’s no time to return for our mounts, we’ll have to take horses from the stables.’
He crashed out of the back door and ran to the stables saddling his own mount. Not waiting to see if the others were ready, he vaulted aboard and kicked the horse into a gallop. He hadn’t paused to reload his pistols but his sword was safely back in its scabbard.
The mud sprayed up from the puddles and the icy wind flattened his hair. He didn’t notice the cold, with every hoofbeat he willed the animal faster, fearing that however hard he rode he would be too late.
*
Birdie screamed and stepped forward to help the girl. Hester, guessing what was to follow, turned and fled from the room. Something had gone horribly wrong with Ralph’s plan, instead of finding and defeating the villains he’d missed them altogether. They were here. They had come to kill her. If she could hide until he returned maybe they wouldn’t hurt the others.
Her present quarters would be the first place they’d look so she ran into the hall and headed up the staircase that dominated the area. Her skirts were bunched in front of her, her breath condensing as she hurried. She wasn’t sure where to hide, but it had to be somewhere they wouldn’t think to look. That ruled out her apartment and her aunt’s. She would go to Ralph’s chambers.
With luck they wouldn’t look there, at least not immediately. A well-bred young lady wouldn’t enter a gentleman’s bedchamber under any circumstances. These men couldn’t know that matters had changed. They would think her no more than a distant cousin, a young girl used to sitting at her tatting and not brutally killing one of their own.
At least she hoped that’s what they’d think. She looked back to check there were no footprints on the carpet to mark her progress, before slipping into his large parlour. There was nothing here to hide behind. The window seat was too small, and although there were several octagonal tables, a writing desk and a tall clock, none of these would give her sufficient protection from more than a cursory search.
What about his bedchamber? An enormous tester bed half filled the room, a flight of steps positioned at the end to allow access to the interior and heavy brocade curtains, looped back, surrounding it. This might be the ideal place; a ruffle of matching material edged the bed frame and this might conceal a space large enough to crawl in to.
Dropping to her knees she peered under. It would be a tight squeeze, but if she wriggled to the very centre when anyone looked under the bed they wouldn’t see her. She thanked God she was dressed in a serviceable navy gown, its waist where it should be and the skirt allowing her freedom of movement.
Hester was preparing to slither under sideways when she noticed the thick layer of dust and realized at once that if anyone looked they would see from the disturbance someone was underneath. This was not the place; she rolled away, standing to shake out her dress. The far door led into the dressing room where you she found a series of huge closets, the first had a set of shelves with several of Ralph’s top coats and folded shirts and undergarments. It also had a large empty space in which he could store his boots.
Stepping in she pulled the door shut behind her. It was suffocatingly dark; but his familiar smell comforted her, calming her, making her ready to face whatever might happen in the next half hour. She fingered her way along the rear of the closet not pausing until she reached the far end.
She was pressed hard against the wall and reached out a hand, to her surprise her fingers were floating in midair. Was this the perfect place? Whoever had constructed the shelves hadn’t taken them to the back wall; there was a narrow space, about twelve inches deep, just big enough for her to squeeze in to.
Fortunately she was slender apart from her breasts and these were squashed uncomfortably against the back of the shelves. There was a risk of becoming stuck, but this was a more attractive alternative than being captured by the ruthless men downstairs. Hester edged deeper and deeper into the crevice until her shoulder abutted the end of the closet.
The dark was overpowering, she could only breathe in shallow gasps and understood, too late, she might have made a dreadful error. If obliged to remain here long she might be unable to extricate herself.
At least there was no worry that her legs would give way beneath her, being so tightly jammed in her hidey-hole she could raise her feet from the floor and still remain upright. She closed her eyes and tried to think of Ralph.
Chapter Twenty-one
Ralph hauled on the reins and his foam-flecked horse dropped back to a canter, then to a stumbling walk. The beast was done, he’d driven it hard and it wasn’t as fit as it should be. The shape of the outbuildings loomed ahead and behind them the massive bulk of Neddingfield.
He dropped on the ground his feet slipping from under him, and he was forced to grab at his stirrup leather to keep himself upright. ‘Bloody hell! Leave the horses here, we walk from here.’
For the second time that morning he crouched, pulling the collar of his topcoat up and readjusting the muffler so it covered his face. He threaded his way through the dripping branches listening for any sounds that would indicate they had been observed.
Waving Robin to take one side of the stable block, he took the other; Tom would follow with the grooms. He hadn’t seen any evidence the Hall was occupied, but this didn’t mean the villains weren’t there. They were ex-soldiers and knew the art of camouflage.
He reached the yard, scanning it cautiously; the space was empty, still no sign of intruders.
Certain he was right, that they were here somewhere, he couldn’t relax for a second. If they were in the house they would have entered through the back door – would they have guarded it?
Keeping low he ran across the yard and began his slow approach. Still no sign. He froze. What was that? He heard a low rumbling sound and recognized it instantly. It was Jet .and he wasn’t happy. The dog was prowling around outside the house, his hackles up and growling continuously. This confirmed Ralph’s worst suspicions. The men were inside. Looking over his shoulder he saw Robin understood. His face bleak, he stopped, pressing himself into the shadows.
Robin arrived at his side. ‘What now, your grace? They’ll have the kitchen garden watched. But there’s no voices, no screaming, maybe they’ve not found Miss Frobisher.’
‘Yes, but that doesn’t solve the problem of how we’re going to effect an entry. We can’t approach the rear and all the shutters and doors are locked on the ground floor. Let me think.’ He shut his eyes trying to visualize the layout of the house. ‘We can get in though my aunt’s chambers, there’s a creeper runs up the corner of the building. I can climb in that way.’
‘You’ll not do it alone, sir. If Tom and I follow you, Seth and Robert can guard the back and if anyone comes out the dog will help deal with them.’
<
br /> Ralph nodded. He had to assume there would be two men in the kitchen area, which meant four searching for Hester. If he could get in without discovery they wouldn’t be drastically outnumbered.
He waved his hand indicating they reverse and regroup behind the diary block. He explained his plan, checking they understood their part in it. It would be easier to reach the front of the building via the rose garden; there was more cover and less likelihood of them being spotted from an upstairs window.
Arriving at the corner of the building he stared - it was no more than twenty feet or so. At this end of the house the windows had been changed from small leaded casements to large sash windows. He tested the rigidity of the plant before attempting to climb. It seemed firm enough. He stretched above his head to grasp a branch then swung his feet from the ground. With surprising agility for a man of his size he shot upwards and was onto the wide window sill in seconds. The one thing not considered was that the catch might be pulled across. Then he’d have to break the glass in order to enter and that was bound to warn any men in the vicinity.
He breathed again – thank the good Lord – the window was unfastened. Balancing precariously, he slid his knife into the gap between the frame and the window ledge and jerked down using it as a lever. The window moved up an inch or two allowing him to get his fingers underneath. He replaced his knife and gripping the window slowly raised it.
It didn’t screech or stick. He dropped his leg over into the space between the wall and the shutters; the heavy brocade curtains were drawn but by peering through them saw the room was empty. Had it been searched already? He edged to one side as Robin arrived soundlessly, followed by Tom. There was a slight grating sound as the window shut. If it was left open there could be a draught which would move the curtains.
He waited a minute before easing the shutters apart and slipping between them. Then he leant against the wall to remove his boots, not wanting to take the risk of being heard on uncarpeted floors. A slight shuffling behind him indicated the others were doing the same. He drew his sword and dropped it back into the scabbard. He was glad he taken the time to load and prime both pistols; he cocked them – the sound loud in the empty room.
Tom and Robin placed their boots behind the shutters and then he led them around the perimeter of his aunt’s private parlour to the door which led into the corridor. His hands tightened on his weapons. There were footsteps approaching.
*
The walls of her prison seemed to be moving closer. Hester tried to ease the pressure from her chest but was stuck fast. A wave of panic all but overwhelmed her; from somewhere she found the courage to force it away.
If she struggled her breathing would be more restricted and she was like to suffocate. As long as she remained calm, took small shallow breaths and relaxed her limbs all would be well. Someone, either the intruders or Ralph, would find her. Birdie and Polly had seen her vanish and must know she was hiding, all she had to do was remain quiet and try to think about happier times.
Her toes and fingers were the only part of her anatomy she could move. She wriggled them vigorously. It wasn’t cold, that was a blessing. A strange feeling of lethargy began to overcome her and her head pounded. Oh dear! This was a bad time to be developing a megrim. She forced herself to think about Ralph, about their future together, about their wedding day.
She would drift off to sleep for a while; her head was heavy she believed she was becoming quite accustomed to her confinement. Could she hear voices shouting? Never mind, whoever it was would come back when she’d had her nap.
*
The handle was turning and Ralph raised his pistols. He was positioned directly in front, if
the person opening it knew, he was as good as dead. However, if he didn’t … his lips twisted in anticipation.
Robin was to his left, Tom to his right – they had both barrels of their weapons fixed firmly on the slowly moving door.
‘We ain’t looked in ‘ere, ’ave we? Where the bleeding ’ell is she? Christ, it’s as cold as a tomb up ‘ere. With any luck she’ll ’ave frozen to death and saved us the trouble of topping ’er.’
The door opened wider. Ralph held his nerve. If he fired too soon it could prove fatal – to him – not to his opponents.
The person who had spoken continued to push into the room. The door swung fully open and Ralph saw two men, unshaven, both carrying guns, but neither having them cocked and ready to fire. His trigger finger tightened but something stopped him; instead, he leapt forward, jamming his gun down the throat of the first man, hearing Robin and Tom do the same with the second.
‘Not a sound if you want to live,’ he snarled. The man remained mute. ‘Drop your weapons.’ Ralph swore under his breath; a bad move, if the others were within earshot they would be upon them in a moment. Without compunction he reversed his weapon and hit the man on the back of the head, catching him as he crumpled.
‘Tie and gag them both, Tom. Quick, we might only have a minute or two before the others arrive.’
Robin dispatched the second intruder with cold blooded efficiency. Leaving his minions to secure them, he pulled the door closed and put his eyes to the crack. His pulse steadied as he realized they were undiscovered. He could hear voices along the corridor; they were searching his apartments, They hadn’t found anything and they sounded frustrated.
‘Have you finished? We must get into a position where we can ambush the second two.’
‘We’ve done here, your grace. We’ll leave them behind the door then if anyone looks in they’ll not see them.’ Robin grinned. ‘But they’ll smell them, that’s for sure.’
‘Don’t shoot to kill, there has been more than enough of that in the past twenty-four hours. Though given the choice, I’d rather be shot than hung.’
He walked along the carpeted centre of the passageway knowing the men were searching his bedchamber. He intended to position himself outside the sitting-room door. He couldn’t hear what the men were saying but was sure they hadn’t found Hester. Wherever she’d secreted herself he hoped she’d remain quiet until this final part of the drama was completed.
He gestured to the others to hide and once again stood where he would be in full view when the door opened. The shock of seeing him, armed to the teeth would he hoped be enough to freeze them in their tracks. He was a formidable sight, standing well over two yards in his stockings, his face lean and weather-beaten from his years of fighting Bonaparte. He looked what he was – a battle hardened veteran.
He gripped the butts of his guns firmly and braced himself. This time the door was flung open, no attempt at deception.
‘Bugger me!’
These were the last words the leader of the gang said as Ralph smashed him squarely on the jaw with his pistol and he fell backwards, unconscious, with a crash. The man behind him gave up without a murmur. Ralph thought he must have seen the pile of bodies in the outhouse and feared if he so much as blinked he would join them.
‘Don’t bother to do more than truss them, Robin. He has no one else to warn.’
‘Yes, your grace. There’s still the other two downstairs to deal with. Shall we do that whilst you find Miss Frobisher?’
‘Yes. They won’t have heard anything, the kitchen’s too far away. Here, take my pistols, I’ll not need them.’
He walked along the passageway trying to think as Hester might have done – where would she have chosen to hide? He turned back, calling out to Robin. ‘Ask the one that’s conscious where they’ve searched.’
Robin did so and the man was happy to oblige with what he knew. They’d looked through all the downstairs rooms and those on the first floor, so where the hell was she? She must be in the attics. There were large rooms on the third floor not occupied by servants but used as nurseries and school rooms in the distant past. She had to be up there, there was nowhere else to look.
Thirty minutes later he still hadn’t found her and was beginning to feel a flicker of alarm. He shouted and cal
led her name; if she was unharmed she must have heard him. Why hadn’t she answered?
He pounded back down the stairs coming face-to-face with Robin, looking grave. ‘I have very bad news, your grace. The bastards killed one of the girls, little Meg, they broke her neck.’ Robin continued. ‘Miss Bird suffered a concussion when they threw her down the steps of the root cellar and is still out cold; Polly is taking care of her. Tom has carried the poor lady upstairs to her chamber and they are making her as comfortable as they can. My fear is it will be the cold that kills her, not the head injury.
‘They were shut in all this time and it’s bloody freezing down there’ Ralph rubbed his eyes. How many more people would suffer before things returned to normal? ‘What about James? Did they find him?’
‘No sir, he had time to hide and they didn’t bother to look too closely up there. But there’s no one to send for the doctor.’
‘Fred will have ridden to Squire Norton; remember we told him if we didn’t return he was to fetch help.’ He knew the militia would go to Bracken Manor first but possibly the magistrate would have the intelligence to send across to Neddingfield as well.
‘Robin, I searched the nurseries and schoolrooms, she’s definitely not there. She has to be somewhere on this; maybe she doesn’t realize it’s me looking for her and is too scared to come out.’ He paused. ‘The dog. Get downstairs and fetch him. He’ll find her for us. God damn it! Why didn’t I think of him sooner?’
Whilst he waited he walked back to Hester’s apartments calling out her name, he listened but heard no response. Leaving the door open he went elsewhere and did the same, still no answer.
Jet galloped up the stairs greeting Ralph enthusiastically. ‘Good boy, we need you to find your mistress.’
The dog sat down, his tail brushing the carpet, his liquid brown eyes fixed on his face as if waiting for instructions.
‘Go, seek your mistress, find Hester.’ The dog remained where he was, seemed unable to grasp the simple fact he was needed to find the person he loved the best.
The Duke's Dilemma Page 19
