Her uncle turned back to her, frowning. “What was it?”
“I thought I saw a movement,” Merriana lied. “I think it was only a bird.”
Her uncle glared at her but said nothing, so Merriana moved on to Antonia’s cot, all the while fighting an urge to look back to be sure there were no telltale signs where she had poured the wine. Gently, she lifted Antonia’s head and held the cup of wine to her lips. Antonia gulped the partial cup of liquid down too fast and Merriana feared that her uncle would realize that the cup had not been full to begin with. “There’s more, my dear,” she said to Antonia, attempting to communicate an urgent message with her eyes as she lifted the empty cup once more to Antonia’s lips. “You must drink it all.” And Antonia understood and pretended to drink again.
“She needs some water to wash the taste from her mouth,” Merriana said.
“You’re a persistent chit,” he grumbled. “Very well, give her a cup of water, and as soon as she shows signs of drowsiness, you may untie her.”
Antonia had barely finished the water when she dropped into a sleep so deep that she seemed totally unaware when Merriana tenderly removed the ropes.
The afternoon shadows lengthened and disappeared as the sun sank behind the western edge of the forest that surrounded them. Merriana had forced herself to eat some of the food that her uncle had offered her when he was finished, and then she had pulled her chair back beside the cot where she could listen to Antonia’s drugged breathing. Her uncle lit a small lamp when the darkness in the cottage grew too deep for him to see his captives, but he said nothing more to Merriana, nor did she speak to him. Her thoughts darted back and forth between recriminations for her stupidity in allowing Antonia to fall into her uncle’s trap and futile efforts to divine what plans her unprincipled relative might be making for their futures.
He seemed to have no desire to sleep, but at last exhaustion forced Merriana to turn her chair in such a way that she could rest her head on the edge of Antonia’s cot, and she slept in that position until her uncle shook her awake.
Dawn was turning the darkness into a thin gray promise of day when Merriana stood. She groaned softly as her stiff neck protested the position in which she’d slept, and her uncle smiled at her grimace of pain when she straightened.
“Rough night, eh?” he asked. She ignored him and moved toward the table, where she picked up a cup of water and splashed it into her hands and then rubbed this onto her face.
“When you’re finished with your morning ablutions, my dear,” he said, his lip curling, “I have a short errand for you to run.”
Merriana looked at him with raised brows, and he continued. “You and I will be traveling together, which will require a certain amount of funds. I have made arrangements with some friends of mine for those funds to be placed at the foot of the large walnut tree that stands beside the path about a half a mile from here. You are to go to that tree and bring the package you find there straight back to me. You are free to run away instead, of course, but your freedom will be purchased at the cost of your friend’s life.”
“I would do nothing to endanger Antonia,” Merriana assured him. “But I must know what you plan to do with her when we leave here.”
”Your little friend will be left just where she is now,” he said. “When she awakens, we will be on our way to our future destination. She may have a headache, but she’ll be able to make her way back home. By the time she arrives and sounds the alarm, you and I will be much too far away to be overtaken. Does this answer your question?”
Merriana nodded. “Shall I leave now?”
“Yes. The package was to have been delivered an hour after sunrise. Watch carefully as you approach the area and if you see anyone, you must hide until your way is clear. Do you understand?”
Merriana nodded again. With one last look at the still-sleeping Antonia, she stepped from the cottage door into the chill air of the early morning of the day she expected would be her last.
Chapter 19
At about the same time the underfootman at Hilltops had delivered her uncle’s message to Merriana, Luke had found a ransom note propped up on a table in the taproom of the Drake and Cock.
“We have Antonia,” Luke had read in outraged disbelief. “If you value her life, leave two hundred guineas beside the large walnut tree on the path leading to the abandoned cottage in the northern section of the Hilltops property exactly one hour after dawn tomorrow. If you attempt a rescue, she will die.” The note had been signed simply, “Merriana.”
On Luke’s instructions, the stable lad, Billy, had ridden at top speed to carry the message to Justin, who had just arrived in London. By late that afternoon, he’d raised the funds and driven back to the Drake and Cock with the money.
“I don’t believe it,” Tom stated stubbornly as he, Luke, and Justin sat around the table in the taproom that evening.
“Damnation, Tom,” Justin said, glaring at his friend. “I realize that you’re half in love with Merriana, but this little escapade should convince even you that she’s made simpletons of us all. She’s certainly convinced me that I’m ten kinds of fool wrapped into one.”
“I can’t disagree with that,” Tom muttered, and Justin was careful not to delve into his meaning because he felt reasonably sure that he understood it perfectly.
Luke had expressed no opinions, either during Justin’s bitter tirade against Merriana or during Tom’s stubborn defense of her. He pointed out once that none of them could be certain that Merriana had written the note, but Justin had already learned from one of the servants at Hilltops that she’d been seen slipping away from the house in one of Antonia’s riding habits in a very suspicious manner.
“If she wasn’t a part of the kidnapping,” Justin asked Luke, “why didn’t she send for you and Tom as I had instructed her to do should any problems arise?”
Luke had no answer for that, and Tom’s conjecture that perhaps she had forgotten sounded weak to his own ears.
“What are you going to do after you leave the money?” Luke wanted to know.
“I plan to hide until someone comes to pick it up. When I see who that person is, I’ll decide then whether to make an appearance or simply to follow them.”
“And if it’s Merriana?” Tom wanted to know.
“I don’t know,” Justin answered shortly, and the conversation had languished as each man sat lost in his own thoughts.
Several hours later, Justin stood concealed behind a massive oak tree when Merriana appeared to pick up the money. He didn’t realize until she actually came into view how deeply he’d hoped she would not be the person retrieving the ransom. But even in the deep shadows of an early dawn, there was no mistaking Merriana. A renegade ray of sun pierced the leaves above her head, splashing her hair with golden light. Justin flinched but couldn’t look away. Such angelic beauty, it seemed to him, should not exist outside the borders of a cathedral’s stained glass windows.
But this was no church and Merriana was no angel. Even as his disappointment surged, Merriana moved and the sunlight dimmed. He watched with grim sorrow as she stepped forward, only to stop almost immediately and again survey the area around her carefully. When she appeared certain that she was alone, she hurried to the designated walnut tree and picked up the bag of coins. She had turned to go when Justin stepped from his hiding place.
Merriana jumped in startled surprise when Justin appeared, although her momentary fear quickly changed to relief. “Justin! I never expected to see you here. You know about Antonia?”
“Is Antonia alive?” he asked shortly. His voice would have chilled an equatorial sun, but Merriana was too distracted by the surge of relief that flowed through her to realize what that signified. To her thinking, all would be well now. Justin was here.
“She’s well for the moment,” she replied. “But I must hurry back with this money or she may not be for long.”
“I have no intention of detaining you,” Justin replied, his lip cur
led. “Just tell me this. Was Antonia hurt during her abduction?”
“Not seriously.” Merriana had not yet done more than glance at Justin. She feared her uncle might have followed her, so she kept her gaze trained on the path behind her. “Her wrists and ankles were scraped raw by the ropes used to bind her, but she’s not been in any discomfort since I gave her the drugged wine.”
“You drugged her?”
Justin’s tone was so cold that Merriana at last looked at him. His eyes were narrowed, and she realized how worried he must be. Still, she couldn’t linger. “I must go now, Justin. Antonia won’t be safe until I return.”
“I want to know where to find her. Don’t worry. I’ll give you plenty of time to get away with your father or your lover or whoever the hell he is.”
Realization dawned slowly as Merriana gazed into Justin’s face and became aware of the depths of anger and hurt and hatred reflected there. “You think that I—?” There was no need for her to finish the question. The answer was written clearly in the set of his jaw, the disquieting scorn of the slight tilt of his lips.
“I’ll give you this, Merriana. You are the most accomplished actress I’ve ever met. You had us all convinced—me, Tom, Luke, Charles, Sylvester, and of course, Antonia. If the real daughter of the Comte de Mérchan had not turned up, you could have had it all. Still, two hundred guineas is not a paltry sum, especially after your first plan failed. I wish you joy of it.”
An infusion of anger, stronger than any stimulant she could have ingested, gave Merriana the strength to straighten her shoulders and lift her eyes to gaze directly into his. Her pride demanded that she repress a strong natural desire to defend herself. Justin had always believed the worst of her. Why should it be different now? She raised her chin with intentional hauteur. “Follow me to the cottage but stay out of sight. When you see me and my, ah, my accomplice leave, go to the cottage. Antonia will be asleep on a cot in the corner.”
He nodded grimly as Merriana turned her back on him and hurried down the path carrying the bag of coins. Tears gnawed at the back of her eyes, but she willed them away. There was no time to cry. But there was ample time to wonder why Justin had brought the money rather than the friends her uncle had mentioned, why Justin was so sure she was a part of the kidnapping plot rather than a victim of it.
The answer slammed into her consciousness. Her uncle had somehow implicated her in Antonia’s kidnapping so that, even should she somehow survive his designs on her life, no one would ever again believe that she was really Merriana de Mérchan. Her uncle was going to be able to succeed in his plot to pass his daughter off as his sister’s child.
She had to try to warn Justin and pray that he believed her, for her uncle Sylvester’s sake at least. But it was too late. Just as she was about to turn around and call to Justin, she saw her uncle coming down the path toward her.
“What took you so long?” he snapped as he grabbed the bag from her and opened it. He smiled before turning back to Merriana. “Was anyone lurking about?”
“No one,” Merriana lied. “Now, can we get away from here? Do you have transportation for us?”
He stared at her, frowning. “What’s your hurry?”
“I want to get away before Antonia wakes up. She’s such an impulsive child, she might try to stop you. I don’t want her hurt.”
A tiny smile tugged at her uncle’s lips. “Very well,” he said. “Yes, I have horses waiting for us about a mile from here, carefully hidden from prying eyes. We’ll just gather up our few belongings in the cottage.”
Merriana ran first to Antonia. She was still in a deep sleep, and her face was whiter than the grimy sheet that covered the cot. Merriana was thankful that Justin would be able to get to his stepsister within minutes after she and her uncle left. She picked up the extra cape from the chair where she had placed it the day before, and carefully covered Antonia’s chilled arms with it. Then she turned and walked with her uncle away from the cottage.
Ten minutes later, Justin had the still-sleeping Antonia clasped in his arms as he walked through the forest to the location where he was to meet up with Tom and Luke. His concern for Antonia overshadowed, although not by much, the blazing anger he felt toward Merriana. But this was no time to think of Merriana. Luke was running to meet him. “She’s alive,” Justin assured him, but Luke took one look at Antonia’s bloodless face, announced that he was going to fetch the doctor, and ran to his waiting mount.
“Meet us at Hilltops,” Tom called after Luke as he climbed onto his own mount and reached with his powerful arms to relieve Justin of his burden. “I’ll take her from here,” Tom said. “You ride ahead and tell Mrs. Chesterson to prepare her bedchamber.” Justin gently kissed Antonia’s forehead as he released her into Tom’s arms. The depth of the love he felt for the girl took him unaware, coming as it did on top of worry, anger, and an inexplicable feeling of loss. His sigh went deeper than he realized, and caused Tom to regard him with a look of apprehension. “Are you all right, Justin?”
“I’m fine, Tom. Just get Antonia to Hilltops as quickly as you can without jostling her. I’ll be waiting.”
Luke arrived at Hilltops with the doctor only minutes after Mrs. Chesterson had gotten Antonia out of her riding habit and into a nightgown. The doctor listened to her shallow breathing, took her pulse, and lifted her eyelids to look into her pupils.
“Well,” he said at last, “I’ll say this for whoever drugged her. They cut it close. Another tablespoon of the stuff and she would have died. As it is, she’ll be fine as soon as the drug works its way out of her system. She’ll sleep a few more hours, I’d say. When she wakes up, give her some clear broth and let me know. I’ll want to see her again then.”
“But you’re positive she’ll live, Doc Sotherby?” Tom asked.
“Yes, no question about that. She’s young and healthy and her body can fight the effects of the drug. Don’t be surprised, though, if she’s confused at first. Whatever she had was obviously very strong.”
Justin walked to the bed and stood looking down at Antonia’s still form, his expression masking whatever he was feeling. Then he turned to Mrs. Chesterson. “Make sure that someone is with her at all times. I don’t want her waking up alone. I’ll return as soon as I can.” He gazed silently at the sleeping girl for a few more seconds before turning to walk toward the door.
“Where are you going, Justin?” Tom called after him.
“After Merriana, of course,” he said as he strode away.
Chapter 20
Merriana and her uncle rode in silence along a little-used trail that led to the east, away from Hilltops. Neither had spoken since leaving the cottage, but Ernest hummed and even occasionally sang a few bars of a sailing song that had never been intended for the ears of an innocent young woman.
Merriana tried to shut out the sounds of her uncle’s merriment and concentrate instead on ways in which she might escape, but she had to admit that at the moment, her chances were slim. She was mounted on the swaybacked nag he’d provided for her ride to the cottage, while he was riding Antonia’s thoroughbred mare. Obviously the possibility of her escaping on horseback was nil. Besides, she’d noted the pistol strapped to his saddle and had no doubts about his willingness to fire a bullet into her back should she try to run away from him.
At last she could no longer stand the strain of his unusual reticence. “Where are we going?” she asked in a voice as devoid of fear as she could manage.
He turned his head to smile at her, a sneering, self-congratulatory smile. “You’re very much like your great aunt Estelle, you know,” he said. Merriana’s eyes widened in surprise, which seemed to please him.
“Yes,” he responded to her unspoken question. “I knew your grandmother de Mérchan’s sister, at least by sight. It’s fortunate for me that you inherited her blonde looks rather than taking after your mother or your father. It’s so much easier to convince others that you don’t really have de Mérchan blood.”
“You spent some time in France then,” Merriana observed. His comments had triggered some fleeting intimations in her mind, ephemeral hints of something she believed to be important, and she was trying desperately to pin them down.
“A bit,” he agreed in his mockingly pleasant way. “Yes, I spent a bit of time in France, pretending, of course, to be in Italy all the while.”
The elusive ideas that had been teasing Merriana at last coalesced, although the near certainty of her supposition was in no way comforting. And, although her hands were gripped so tightly around the reins that her fingernails cut into her palms, she managed to ask the question in a casual tone. “Why did you try to kill my father?”
It was her uncle’s turn to be surprised. “A very astute question, my dear,” he remarked, a note of respect mingling with his customary taunting tone. Then he threw back his head and laughed. “It was hilarious,” he continued when his laughter had diminished into chuckles, “the way everyone thought that the Comte de Mérchan had an unknown enemy. I never tried to kill your father, my dear. It was your mother I wanted to see dead. But the Comte was always with her and everyone assumed that the unknown assailant was after him. Once, when they were walking in the garden, I aimed a bullet for her head. She bent to pick a flower and the bullet buried itself in a tree right in front of your father’s face. Neither had the intelligence to figure out that had she been standing, your mother would have died instantly. Instead, they assumed that the bullet had been intended for your father but that his assailant’s aim had been faulty.”
“Did you hate my mother that much?” Merriana asked softly, feeling the need to voice the question, although the answer was already written large in the half-mad eyes her uncle turned to her.
The Mysterious Merriana Page 17
