Taking a good guess at where he was off to, Lily grabbed up two lardy cakes from cook’s fresh and still warm batch and after tucking them into her pocket, scampered directly to the master’s room in the west wing. She listened carefully outside the great door before she decided that the bedroom was empty and then she slid inside the room.
Jackson the valet had probably gone to have his own breakfast while his master ate and the maids had clearly done their work as the bed was made and drapes drawn back from the windows. She ignored the temptation to leap onto the middle of the huge bed to bounce up and down for a few minutes, but walked across the room and turned the key in the wardrobe door. She inhaled the Duke’s scent, marvelling that his clothes smelled exactly the same as Alexander’s before she slipped into the vast wardrobe. She carefully parted the line of white shirts and dark jackets and opened the secret panel at the rear.
She climbed down into the room behind the wardrobe. It was small and looked less than inviting but she had seen the boys disappear through the panel in the wardrobe once before and knew exactly what to do. She turned quickly and made sure the Duke’s shirts hung without creases and closed the wooden door.
A narrow slit of a window let in a slither of light and she could make out a fireplace that looked far too big for the size of the room. A dusty table and chair sat beneath the window but she couldn’t imagine anyone sitting at it. There was barely enough gap to let in air let alone light to do anything constructive. There was a short bed covered with a dusty blanket pressed against the side of the room and she stared at it, trying to imagine how the tall frame of the Duke fitted into it.
She bypassed the bed, walked slowly into the shadows at the side of the chimney and grabbed the lamp and tinder box that someone had left in an alcove. It took only a few flicks of her wrist to light the wick of the lamp before she pressed the secret stone on the underside of the mantle.
The panel at the side gave an echoing click and opened just enough for her to slide through into the darkness beyond. Cool air wafted at her hair as she walked quickly down the steep stone steps and along the narrow passage, avoiding the piles of fallen stones and heaps of muddy soil. She ignored the alcoves and side turnings and in a just a few minutes, she was through the tunnel and standing at the back of the cave that opened in an outcrop of ragged rocks at the back of the beach. The entrance was hidden by the angle of the rocks and she leaned forwards, peering around checking that her way was clear.
The sea was a perfect blue under the cloudless sky but she ignored the sparkling waves that rushed up the sand in a frothy white surge, turned up the cliff path, and ran towards the stone outbuilding that stood on the hill. The closed door was still locked tight and she sighed a relieved breath that she had made it before the boys. She climbed up through the low window and nibbled at the corner of her lardy cake as she lay in wait beneath the straw.
She didn’t understand why the boys took pains to avoid her. It wasn’t fair. They let Geoffrey join in with everything. It was a pointless effort on their behalf anyway as she knew exactly where they were nearly all of the time. She only didn’t bother following them if Mr Lovell, the tutor, was expected. He didn’t look much older than either Phillip or Alexander but she liked him even less than she liked Alexander’s frowns. He shooed her out of the schoolroom while switching his thin cane at her bottom every time she tried to sneak in.
Lily loved both Phillip and Alexander of course, but she had decided that she was going to marry Alexander when she was grown up enough. She liked how his dark hair matched her own and how his eyes were the colour of the evening sky.
She smiled at the thought of their wedding game only the week before. It had been such fun and he had looked so handsome as he stood reciting the lines that Captain Phillip spoke before him. The strange noise that reached her ears as Alexander said ‘I do’ sounded exactly the same as when her own father ground his teeth if he was angry, but that must have been a figment of her imagination. Alexander had absolutely refused to kiss her after the ceremony too and instead insisted that she walk the plank to await rescue from a deserted island, but she hoped that one day he would. Maybe one day he would hold her hand and kiss her the way she had once seen Grady the butler kiss Sarah the maid. Sarah had turned very pink and had then smiled shyly up at Grady but Lily thought she would grin like mad if Alexander ever kissed her.
The barn door opened a crack and the two boys slid in. They began fiddling with a cart that Phillip had dragged to the barn only a couple of days before. For once little Geoffrey wasn’t with them and she wondered why as she watched Phillip grunt and strain to fill cook’s biggest kettle with water from the butt beside the door. She pulled out the second lardy cake and bit a piece while she peered nervously as Alexander lit the fire on the tray beneath. The boys seemed happy with their game but it was a little boring for Lily whose legs had begun to cramp what with squatting for so long.
Alexander’s face was a picture when Tabitha had arrived a few minutes later and gave him her prize. Lily stuffed her hand in her mouth as she tried not to laugh out loud, but his face had been even funnier when the mouse’s body separated itself from its tail. It wasn’t quite so funny for her when the poor little creature’s dead body landed right atop her head.
If she hadn’t had her mouth full of her cake and her hand she might have screamed. As it was she merely poked Tabitha hard with a bony finger when the cat came to retrieve its dinner. Tabitha’s yowl of surprise nearly made her yell out with laughter again but she was distracted by sudden odd clumping sounds coming from inside the big kettle.
She glanced out of the hay to where the two boys should have been but all she saw was Phillip flying through the air to land squarely upon Alexander’s stomach. Alexander let out a great ‘Oomph” and then there was a sudden almighty bang.
Lily didn’t even have time to scream in surprise. The very next second the loudest noise she had ever heard sucked all of the goodness from the air surrounding her and flung her into the stone wall of the barn. She didn’t stop there but carried on as the wall burst outwards and flew through the air with her. She landed with a painful thump amidst the rubble and lay there panting for breath as all the air sucked out of her and then came whooshing back just as quickly. A million fireflies danced around her. She tried to bat them away as they stung her face, but her limbs felt far too heavy to move. She lay there and stared up at the blue sky. Thick clouds blocked the sun and the air seemed strangely charged, almost thick. She tried to lift her head but dizziness and the sound of her own heartbeat were the only things she could even fathom.
When big arms came to lift her she looked up drowsily into the face of Alexander’s father. His mouth was moving slowly. She wanted to laugh because he looked like the big mackerel the boys had pulled from the sea only the week before. His mouth opened and closed close to her face and she thought she was laughing at him, but no sound came. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing but she didn’t know if she was doing it right. There was a strange ringing in her ears and her chest hurt with each pull. She decided she didn’t like the pain. She tried to take another breath but she felt something heavy on her chest. She could feel herself being moved around on a cool surface and the ringing in her ears hit her again. She yelled for it to stop but her voice seemed to echo around inside her head. Someone was washing her face with too cold water. She shouted again, her voice straining to be heard but the silent torturer carried on and Lily gave up fighting.
She would go to sleep. When she woke she would feel better and everyone would take more notice. She settled back into the darkness and waited for morning to come.
The sound of his father’s voice woke Alexander some four days later. His head still thumped and his face was still sore with a myriad of needle like burns.
“No, my dear, you can cry all you like but the boy has to be taught a lesson. I know he never expected anything like this to happen but it did. We are lucky that the magistrate didn’t haul
him up in front of the judge for murder. He could have made a solid case if pressed. As it is we don’t know if Alex will survive. Better that Phillip is out of the way for the moment.”
Alexander cowered back into the pillows. He hadn’t meant to murder anyone least of all his brother, Phillip. His heart thumped loudly in his chest as he felt a cooling cloth dab at his stinging face. Then the cloth wiped a particularly sore spot on his forehead and he couldn’t help but yelp in pain.
There was a rush of rustling skirts and his mother crooned.
“Alex, speak to me darling. You’re safe in your bed at home. Speak to your mother, tell me that you are well.”
Alexander gulped. It was time to face the music. He opened one eye and then realized that he couldn’t yet open the other. It seemed to be glued shut. He raised his fingers to touch puffy skin as he peered up at the pale countenance of his mother and the stern but relieved face of his father.
“I’m sorry,” was the first thing he stammered but his father smiled gently.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Alex. Phillip confessed all to us as soon as we knew that you were both alive. We have been waiting anxiously for you to wake up.”
Alexander glanced at the tears on his mother’s face.
“What happened? I thought Phillip was about to rough me up but then there was a bang and a few seconds later the most enormous explosion. We were flung through the air but I recall nothing afterwards. Where is Phillip?” He began to turn his head, looking for his brother in the next door bed.
His father cleared his throat.
“Phillip is not here. We have sent him to school. I felt that your tutor wasn’t exerting enough control over the boy. Young Mr, Lovell already teaches at the school two days a week. He has gone back permanently with Phillip so you needn’t worry that he’ll be alone. The other boys and tutors will whip him into line. He needs a hard lesson Alex, but he will become a better man for it.”
Alexander swallowed. His father’s normally passive features had unfamiliar creases covering them.
“But why, father? I am fine. Phillip protected me. He never meant for the kettle to overheat. We were watching Tabitha hunt for mice and misplaced the time. Phillip simply forgot to open the valve,” he tried to explain in a husky voice as he worried about his brother among a crowd of older boys. Phillip would hate it. Unless he was adventuring with Alexander, he was the quiet, learned type who loved to sit and read and discover new things. A school of loud and possibly rowdy boys wouldn’t suit Phillip at all. Alexander was only too glad that Mr. Lovell had accompanied his brother.
He noticed tears leaking from his mother’s eyes and she lifted a small square of silk to dab them away. She looked as though she were about to speak but couldn’t. He frowned up at his father, shocked to discover the hopeless expression there.
“Father, what happened?” Anxiety rose in his stomach as he struggled to sit upright. There was something more, he knew “Phillip is alright, isn’t he?”
His father nodded mutely and then did the strangest thing. He sat down on the edge of the bed and took Alexander’s hand in his own. He entwined his fingers with Alexander’s and squeezed tightly. Alexander was horrified as he noticed water gathering in his father’s eyes. He gulped and waited to hear the worst.
“Yes, my son. Phillip is fine, a few bumps and bruises and a couple of burns but nothing that will put him out of action for long…I’m afraid the same can’t be said of young Lily,” his father nearly choked over the next words. “We think she followed you two and was hiding in the hay. Unfortunately I had concealed a surprise gift for your mother in the barn. Fireworks to mark her birthday ball next weekend. When your kettle blew up it scattered the burning hay. The resulting blast as the fireworks blew up all together was heard over a mile away.” He hesitated as he took a deep breath. “Poor Lily was blown through the wall of the barn. We brought her straight here of course and it seemed that she was recovering. Smith took her home with instructions that the doctor would be available to him at all times but apparently, our doctor was wrong and her injuries were far greater than first appeared. Smith sent word yesterday morn. She passed away that same night. He has taken Lily’s body to be buried with her mother. The blast razed the barn to the ground. I have put a small memorial at the spot to honour little Lily.”
Alexander couldn’t believe his ears. A band of pain wrapped his chest and pulled tight as he turned to his distraught mother.
She nodded sadly confirming the horror he hadn’t wanted to believe.
“Our little treasure has gone to the angels Alex. We must pray for her.”
Alexander felt his throat tighten. He choked before he spoke.
“This cannot be true…You mean little Lily who sings out of key and pinches the lardy cakes from cook? Our Lily? She couldn’t have followed us because she wasn’t in the barn, unless she guessed where we were going and arrived first.” He heard his own voice rising as the panic set in. “We never saw her father. She never spoke up or told us she was there!” He began to shout wildly as his father attempted to restrain him in the bed.
Alexander tried to stop the tears falling but it was no use. Little Lily may have been a pain to put up with but he would never have hurt her and he certainly didn’t want her to die. Especially not at his hands. The thought was too horrific. He gave up fighting the tears and his father. He grabbed up the sheet as the salty droplets ran down his cheeks. He pulled the linen over his head, sank back down on the pillows and tried to make the darkness take him once again.
Chapter One
Fifteen Years Later
The nightmare of the last several hours continued unabated. The letter had reached Alexander as he disembarked ship. It had been shock enough when he stood at the dockside, now as he stared blindly at the man who dared not return his gaze, he could feel the cold breath of truth tightening its grip in the already frigid room.
“Does my mother know the full details?” His first unsteady question shattered the icy silence as he absently rubbed the scar that graced his right cheek. The skin itched but he felt himself lucky that the sword had been razor sharp. At least the wound healed neatly.
The red and tender skin was a pointed reminder to keep ones wits about them when on the battlefield even if one thought the battle was over. Searching for wounded friends among the supposedly dead enemy had almost become his own downfall. The dying Frenchman had been bent on exacting revenge and in a moment’s inattention Alexander had nearly lost an eye.
He frowned as he realized what he was doing. He forced the itch of healing skin to the back of his mind.
The man in front of him shook his head quickly and Alexander tried not to notice the cloud of dandruff that wafted onto the narrow shoulders of his family solicitor’s black coat.
“The Duchess has been given only the barest details, Your Grace, to save her further heartbreak, you understand.” The nasal tones addressing him in the unfamiliar title did nothing to quell the misery gripping Alexander’s own heart.
“And there was nothing to be done. Both of them perished instantly?” He could scarcely believe the devastating news from home.
“I believe so, Your Grace. Captain Drover was named amongst the dead, apparently refusing to leave his ship until it was too late, but several of the surviving crew will attest to the night’s events. A freak wave surged against them. The vessel turned and split without warning. Being cast upon the rocks was bad luck enough but with the storm raging there was no saving them. Drover had tried to warn His Grace and the Marquis away when they launched their bid to save the ship’s crew but they insisted on their course.” His tone showed a little more sympathy as he raised his eyes the good five inches it took to look back at Alexander.
Alexander glanced down at the letters lying on the solicitor’s desk. He cleared his throat, quelling the sob of misery that was desperate to break free.
“And what of Lady Anne? Do you have news of her? She remains with my mother?” He
frowned as another thought crossed his troubled mind. “Are we even sure that you are using the title correctly? There could still be an heir.” The question of his sister in law’s possible condition had to be addressed immediately. The solicitor nodded again.
“They are both at the Dower house. The Duchess moved there instantly. She said that she couldn’t bear to remain at Ormond. Lady Anne moved with her of course, and she has already established that there will be no heir. She confirmed immediately that she is not...” he gave a small cough to indicate the delicacy of such remarks, “not enceinte. I believe it is her intention to move back to Lavenham. Your brother had made arrangements for her in his will but you can see the difficulties that this…the awkwardness of the situation, may throw up,” his hesitation in naming the problem was not lost on Alexander.
He frowned as he picked up the sheaf of papers from the desk. They had been grim reading the first time.
“There are no more disquieting letters lodged with you by my father? These are the only ones you have?” He waited until the solicitor nodded. “I see the local doctor issued death certificates. It’s not a name I know; he can be trusted I assume?” The doubt in his tone was tangible.
“There was no question. There were certainly no witnesses to say contrary, Your Grace. Everything was in order.” The man coughed into a crumpled linen square.
Alexander sighed deeply.
“And both my father’s and brother’s wills; they are valid? I own everything left including the town house and the Ormond jewels?” He shuffled the papers as the man nodded quickly and pointed to the bottom of two of them. “I notice these are dated and witnessed at the same time only one week before their deaths. Is that unusual?” He looked down at the solicitor to gauge his reaction.
The solicitor’s stare met his at last and then the man’s eyes slid to the scar on Alexander’s cheek. He blinked rapidly before speaking.
An Unexpected Title (Suspicious Circumstance Book 1) Page 27
