Cursed

by Felicity Harper

  “Of course not, my dear. There are others who are still searching.” Lord Pemberly placed a reassuring hand on his youngest daughter’s shoulder. “We will find her.”

  “Where could she be, Papa?” Cecilia asked. They had arrived in such high spirits but now everyone looked pinched and frightened. “She wouldn’t just have left without word.”

  “I know. We must put our heads together and think.” Lord Pemberly spoke briskly, as though trying to rouse the troops. “Where might she have gone?”

  Having heard the men were back, Mrs Huggett came in with a tray of hot cocoa. Her face fell when she saw that Henrietta was not with them. “Have you looked in the forest, my Lord?” she asked.

  “Yes, Mrs Huggett. Briggs and Collins searched late this afternoon with no luck.”

  “Could Sir Hardwick have taken her for a drive?” Caroline asked.

  “No. It seems Hardwick did pay a visit but Henrietta wasn’t here so he left,” Lord Pemberly said. He turned to the housekeeper. “Isn’t that right, Mrs Huggett?”

  “Yes, my Lord,” she said quietly. “Lady Henrietta left this morning, shortly after you and Mrs Hyde-Thornton had taken your leave. She said she were going for a walk and off she went. No one has seen her since.” She clutched her apron to her mouth and, excusing herself, hurried from the room to spare the family her tears.

  “Poor Mrs Huggett,” Caroline said. “She seems to think it’s her fault for not asking Henrietta where she was going.”

  “Shall I go and see that she’s all right, Papa?”Cecilia asked, surprising them all.

  “Yes, Cissie,” Lord Pemberly said affectionately. “I think she would like that.”

  “Papa?” Prudence asked, “Does Sir Hardwick know Henrietta is missing? Has anyone spoken to him?”

  “No. Briggs went to the Rosen’s to speak to him but he wasn’t there. They say they haven’t see him for a few days.”

  “That’s worrying,” Prudence said, chewing her bottom lip.

  “Why do you say that, darling?” Miles asked.

  “It just seems strange that both he and Henrietta have disappeared.”

  “What are you thinking, Prue?” Miles knew his wife well enough to know she had something on her mind.

  She looked over at her Aunt. “I think we should tell Papa what we learnt from the Aylesburys.”

  “Yes, I think we must,” Aunt Penelope agreed.

  Lord Pemberly took a seat near his daughter. “And what was it that you learned?”

  “Well, it seems Sir Roderick Hardwick is actually a penniless Lord with little more than a crumbling estate to his name. His father gambled away all his mother’s inheritance before Hardwick was even born, leaving the poor woman destitute, alone, with child - and shockingly unwed. When she found out he had married her under a false name, she went looking for him. Her only wish by then was for her child to be born bearing his father’s true name. Fortunately, she managed to find shelter at a monastery when her time came. Still unwed, she left instructions with the monks in case anything happened to her. Sadly, she died while giving birth and, upon her death, they searched for the culprit but - unfortunately - he was dead by the time they found him - run through during a fight over a gambling debt.”

  “What a dreadful story,” Caroline said. ‘Poor Sir Hardwick.”

  “Not quite,” Prudence told them. “It appears, though the Aylesburys will have none of it, that the apple did not fall far from the tree.”

  “Whatever do you mean, Prudence?” Lord Pemberly asked worriedly.

  “Put it this way, Papa: the Aylesburys are exceeding fond of Sir Hardwick and, therefore, tend to see him in a rather favourable light. So when they describe him affectionately as a rapscallion and a ne’er-do-well, we can only imagine the levels to which he is willing to sink.”

  “Good God! Do you think he might have Henrietta with him?”

  “I’m not sure whether to hope she is with him - or pray that she is not.”

  Henrietta fought to stay awake as the coach rattled along through the fog.

  “Hardwick?” she called. He quirked an enquiring eyebrow. “Will you tell me what happened with the ogre?”

  “There isn’t much to tell,” Hardwick said. He pulled back a curtain, opened a window and looked out at the fog that swirled around them. He nodded to one of his men who was riding alongside them and then, with a shiver, shut the window and pulled the curtain back into place.

  “He told me that you wanted me,” he smiled smugly, cocking his head to one side and studying her as she huddled in a corner of the carriage. “I believe he was right. But you were determined to make it difficult for me,” he said indulgently, leaning forward to tap her knee gently, as though they were lovers out for a ride. “The ogre offered to help me secure your approval.”

  Henrietta thought of all the times she had sung Hardwick’s praises to the ogre and her face burned with shame. He must have thought her such a silly, shallow creature that she could be so easily taken in by a man like Hardwick. She looked away, filled with remorse that she had been so foolish as to fall - even briefly - for his good looks and superficial charm.

  Hardwick chuckled. “Do you know, my dear: were it not for the improbability of such a notion, I would swear you had feelings for that monster!”

  “Know this, Hardwick.” Henrietta hissed, “you are more a monster than he could ever be!”

  Hardwick threw back his head and guffawed. “Good Lord, Lady Henrietta! Could it be that you do have feelings for that thing?”

  She closed her eyes, shutting herself away in darkness, conjuring up images of the ogre and allowing thoughts of him to transport her elsewhere. What she would give to have him here now; to tell him how much she had missed him these past few days; how she had longed for his blunt ways, his calm, comforting presence and his quiet companionship.

  She wanted to tell him how she missed the way his lips would twitch with a reluctant smile when she teased him and how he would roar with unexpected laughter when she said something he found amusing. She wanted to tell him how she missed the way he listened when she told him her news and his deep, gravelly voice when he shared a tale with her. She wanted to tell him there was none other with whom she would rather spend her days; no other with whom she would rather tramp through the forest, foraging for fruits, telling stories and laughing over nonsense.

  Most of all, though, she wanted to tell him there was no one else with whom she could ever imagine spending the rest of her life.

  He found her ribbons tied to the trees.

  She had been looking for him. The forest was damp with the fog that lay across the countryside and the ribbons hung limply from their branches. How long ago had she tied them here? He had followed their path to the clearing but he hadn’t actually expected to find her there. Not now - and not in this weather.

  The ogre turned, looking around him. Something - his gut was telling him - something had happened here. But what? He crouched down and examined the ground. It looked as if there had been a scuffle. Tracks - lots of them - trailed off in different directions. He ran his hand over the soil: drag marks - and boot prints. He stood up and began to follow the heavy tracks. Whoever it was had been carrying something. He followed the trail for several hundred yards and then stopped. A flash of green. He stooped and picked it up. Another ribbon, this time dropped in the undergrowth. His heart hammered in his chest. Henrietta! Something had happened here - to her! He could taste the anger on his tongue. It had to be him - bloody Hardwick! He heard a noise and spun around.

  “What are you doing here, Mala?” he asked the gypsy.

  “I have something for you.” In her hand, Mala held a green ribbon. “The young Lady asked that I give it to you.”

  He took the ribbon, tucking it into his pocket with the others. “When did you see her?”

  Mala shrugged. “She came looking for me this morning. She seemed to think I would know where you were.” Sh
e gave him a crooked smile. “She was quite protective of you.”

  “Did she say why she was looking for me?” he snapped, impatiently.

  “I got the impression she was worried about you.” The Gypsy Queen studied him for a moment before adding, “Perhaps it is you who should be worried about her though, eh?”

  “Don’t play games with me, Mala,” the ogre growled. “Where is Henrietta?”

  “I don’t know where she is. One of the lads came back to the camp with a tale about the young Lady of Riverly being dragged away by some men. One of them was a blonde giant, he said.”

  “Hardwick! How long ago?”

  “A few hours - but they won’t be moving fast in this fog.”

  “Did the boy see in which direction they went?” the ogre snarled, anger and worry making him impatient.

  “No,” she said, unconcerned by his manner, “but it seems to me that a man who was intent on marrying a woman against her will would need to take her far away.”

  “How the hell do you know that’s what he was doing?”

  “The boy said the men with him were to be their wedding guests.”

  “That bastard!” he roared and raced out of the forest.

  Miles and Lord Pemberly had left for the Rosen estate. Aunt Penelope had warned them to be discreet. It would not do to let it be known that Henrietta was missing and presumed to be with Hardwick.

  “We shall all be ruined if Henrietta has been abducted,” said Millicent mournfully. “And I was so looking forward to my debut in the Spring.”

  “Millicent!” Prudence snapped. “That’s enough of that.”

  “Why?” Cecilia asked. “It’s true enough. Henrietta’s folly shall be our downfall too.”

  As Prudence turned her glare on Cecilia, Aunt Penelope stepped in. “There’s no denying that, if Henrietta is compromised, it will have an impact on your other sisters,” she said gently, before turning to her youngest nieces. “Which is another reason that we should all hope and pray for the best possible outcome.”

  “You mean that Henrietta and Sir Hardwick are already wed when they are found?”

  A deep silence followed Millicent’s question. There was no good answer. Either Henrietta was wed to a man who, presumably, she had rejected or both her reputation and that of her younger siblings was in tatters.

  “Let us simply pray she is found before the morning,” Caroline told them.

  He ran.

  Finally, there was some advantage to being this creature. The fog would slow down Hardwick and his men but not him. Even on foot, the ogre could probably catch up with them faster than a rider on horseback.

  He castigated himself again for a fool. To think he had thought Hardwick an imbecile! Now, because of him, Henrietta was in danger! He had allowed his stupid, stubborn pride to get in the way. He saw now that Henrietta had been voicing doubts about Hardwick all along when all he had seen was that Hardwick was the sort of man over whom young ladies swooned. Jealously, he had assumed Henrietta was falling for the knight’s good looks and charm when - in truth - she had said no such thing.

  Worse! She had told him there was nothing for her at Riverly; that she felt she had no reason to stay but for him. He stopped suddenly as he realised what she had been trying to say. Did Henrietta have feelings for him? No. Even to think such a thing was utter madness!

  He looked around to find his bearings - and then he heard it: the sound of horses in the distance and the rattle and clunk of a carriage. He started running again, allowing his rage to consume him.

  “Please, Sir Hardwick, I must be allowed to stop and see to my needs!” she begged for the third time in the last hour.

  “It cannot be much further,” Hardwick snapped. “Can you not wait?”

  “No! I cannot wait another moment!”

  “Bloody women!” Hardwick muttered and leaned out of the window. “Peters, we’ll have to stop for a bit,” he called. The coach juddered to a stop and Hardwick jumped out. He reached in and dragged Henrietta after him. Her legs wobbled from being sat so awkwardly for so long and he pulled her roughly against him to steady her.

  “Go on then! Be quick!”

  “I cannot do what needs doing with my hands tied,” she told him crossly.

  “Mayhap you should help her, Hardwick?” one of his men called out and the others laughed.

  “You should all be ashamed of yourselves,” she shouted back. “How dare you treat me this way!”

  Hardwick turned her around and cut the ropes. “Give me your shoes,” he snapped. Reluctantly, Henrietta took them off and handed them to him. Without warning, he flung them away and she cried out as her shoes disappeared into the darkness and the fog.

  Go no further than the tree,” he told her as he shoved her in that direction. She stumbled as she picked her way to the tree. Her stockings were soaked through and her feet sore from the sticks and stones that she trod on. She looked around her at the trees all shrouded in the fog. Then, before she could think on her actions, she ran. There was no time to consider which way she should go so she just ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction from where Hardwick and his men were waiting.

  “Damn it! Don’t ler her get away!” Hardwick’s angry exclamation urged her on.

  She heard her captors thrashing through the undergrowth. They were coming in her direction! Choking back a sob, she ran harder, heedless of what lay underfoot. A rock, pointed and sharp, tore the soft flesh of her foot and Henrietta cried out as she fell. Her foot was weeping blood but she stood up and, with the little strength she had left, ran on through the trees.

  “And where do you think you are going, my dear?”

  Henrietta cried out. Hardwick’s dark, menacing presence emerged from the fog/ He snatched her to him. Wild with fury and despair, Henrietta lashed out and caught Hardwick’s cheek. With barely a pause, he swung his hand and slapped her hard across the face. She might have fallen were it not for his firm grip on her upper arm.

  “See what you have made me do, Lady Henrietta?” he said affably. “Do not cause me to punish you again.”

  He started back the way they came, dragging Henrietta painfully in his wake. In an effort to save her feet from further injury, she was watching the ground and so did not see an enormous shadow emerge from the fog. The first she knew was when her arm was released and Hardwick disappeared with an ‘oomph!’

  Noise seemed to come from every direction: the thud of flesh upon flesh and a loud bang as a gun was fired. Henrietta made herself as small as she could and tucked down into the base of a tree with her hands over her ears as the fighting continued.

  And then all was still and silent.

  Too scared to move, Henrietta listened for the sound of Hardwick and his men.

  “Henrietta!”

  It was him! She sobbed and tried to stand but the pain in her foot and her aching legs wouldn’t let her.

  “Ogre!” she cried. “I am over here!”

  And then, suddenly, he was there. He knelt in front of her. “Are you hurt?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

  “Just my foot. I cut it on a rock,” she said, playing down her other injuries - but the sight of him was her undoing. Henrietta burst into tears and the ogre pulled her into his arms. “Hush.” he soothed as she sobbed against his shoulder and her fear, exhaustion and relief getting the better of her. “I have you. You’re safe now.”

  He held her while she cried, rubbing his hand up and down her back and comforting her while she wept. When her tears had finally subsided, the ogre tried to move but Henrietta clung to him, afraid to let him go. He tipped her face up to his.

  “Henrietta, I need to make sure Hardwick and his men will not escape. I promise I will be back for you shortly.”

  She nodded and laid her hand on his cheek. “Please be careful.”

  He covered her hand with his. “Stay here,” he said. “Don’t move.”

  Henrietta watched
the ogre disappear. She shivered with the cold but did not move. She strained her eyes into the swirling fog as she waited for him to return. Thoughts tumbled through her head: her father calling - her sisters crying - Hardwick laughing - Hardwick hitting her.

  “Henrietta!” The ogre spoke firmly, snapping her out of her stupor. She looked up at him dazed. “You’re freezing,” he said worriedly and picked her up. He tucked her against his chest, trying to warm her with his heat.

  “I-I’ll be f-fine,” she said through chattering teeth. “Please, Ogre, take me home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Dawn was breaking and there had still been no word. Prudence stood at the window, watching the sky lighten.

  “Where could she be.”

  “They’ll find her,” Caroline said, coming up behind her.

  The two women had kept a silent vigil through the night, after sending Cecilia and Millicent off to bed at midnight. Aunt Penelope had followed the girls soon after. The journey home had exhausted them all but Prudence couldn’t sleep, not when Henrietta was out there in the cold. Lord Pemberly and Miles had left a couple of hours earlier to check the roads now that the fog was finally starting to lift. They, too, had spent a long, exhausting night directing the search and coming and going themselves.

  “People will be coming for the Winter festival in a few hours. What shall we tell them?” Prudence asked in a dull, mechanical voice.

  “We shall worry about that when the time comes,” Caroline said as she took her arm. “Come and have some tea.”

  Prudence allowed herself to be led to a seat in front of the fire. “Thank you, Caroline,” she said, accepting the cup the older woman handed her, “for all of it.” Her voice caught. “I’m not sure what I would have done without you.”

  “Yes you do,” Caroline replied. “You would have been you: the person who organised the hot beverages for the searchers and kept their oil lamps filled - just as you did last night.”