by Regina Scott
“You can do nothing.” Mr. Harris stared at them as if they were all mad. “Don’t you see? A village of this size cannot fight the French army. You’re already defeated, and I refuse to go down with you.”
He pushed past James and Eva and slammed out of the house.
Eva glanced around. “Do you all feel that way?”
Mr. Crabapple drew himself up. “Certainly not.”
“He’s a Newcomer,” Lord Featherstone explained with a sigh. “Nothing to be done there.”
“But the rest of us stand ready to support you,” Miss Chance assured James.
“The village, most of those who came for the spa,” Lark agreed. “I’m sure we can even count on Doctor Bennett.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Miss Archer muttered.
Quill’s mouth tilted up. “It seems you have your own army, Magistrate.”
James glanced around. Everywhere he looked he saw determination. These were not Newcomers. They were the friends and family of Grace-by-the-Sea. Eva was right. He was not alone. As if to prove it, she squeezed his hand.
“So,” she said, “what would you have us do, husband?”
James smiled. “The French loved their revolution. Let’s give them another one.”
~~~
Anyone watching the castle Sunday and Monday would not have noted anything unusual. There had been a flurry of activities for nearly three weeks now. What followed was merely more of the same.
James, Eva, and his mother attended church services and were seen talking with any number of villagers. Doctor Bennett came to check on his patient on Sunday afternoon. The magistrate drilled his troops as usual on Monday morning, with the usual disarray. Quillan St. Claire called on the newlyweds later that morning. So did Abigail Archer.
Both of the Howland coaches were brought up to the door of the castle on Monday afternoon, and several servants scurried back and forth with luggage and provisions for a trip. James escorted his mother and the earl to one of the coaches, the earl leaning heavily on James’s arm.
“Safe journey back to London,” James called as he shut the door.
With a cry to his horses, the coachman drove them off.
James then led Eva and her maid to the other carriage, whose top had been pulled up to shield the occupants, and the kiss he shared with his bride would have left no doubt that theirs would not be a marriage of convenience much longer.
“Return to me soon, my dear,” James said.
“In all haste,” Eva promised.
For some reason, their coachman dallied a bit before heading for the village. Only Patsy alighted before Butterfly Manor. The other servants filed out of the castle in a line that snaked down the headland, heading for the house that would soon become the home of Mr. and Mrs. Howland. At times, it even seemed as if a few people climbed the other way. Finally, as dusk began to gather, James himself locked the door and rode his horse down the drive.
And once more, Castle How sat alone.
But not empty.
“How long must we wait, do you think?” Abigail asked Eva where they sat in the servants’ hall behind the kitchen. The only light came from a hooded lantern Jesslyn had brought with her, but, from their vantage point, they could see the door that led down to the caves.
Maudie wrapped her shawl tighter. “Ghosts don’t walk until midnight.”
“Even the Hound of the Headland?” Eva teased.
“He only rises on stormy nights,” Jesslyn explained from her place at Maudie’s side.
“And I suppose we have no young wastrels to draw him even then,” Eva allowed.
Abigail shifted on the bench. “Young wastrels? I think he would prefer to prey on arrogant men. We certainly have enough of those. Forgive me, Eva, but I’m surprised the magistrate was willing to concede he needed help and allow us a role tonight.”
“He’s coming to learn the value of partnership,” Eva said. “But all our efforts tonight may be for naught. We’ve made it clear the castle is empty and ripe for the picking, but we can’t be sure these Frenchmen will return. They may abandon their boat. Its loss is a small price to pay to keep their identities hidden.”
“Lark fears they will return to France in all haste,” Jesslyn said, “to report what they’ve learned to the Emperor.”
“All the more reason to stop them,” Abigail said.
Eva nodded. Not that the four of them would be directly involved. James and the militia would have surrounded the castle by now. They’d arranged for the men to arrive in ones and twos and hide themselves among the trees to watch for the least sign of the enemy. Captain St. Claire and his men had sailed into the caves as the tide turned earlier in the day and were waiting below. And Lark had gone out to a revenue cutter that was watching the shore over the waves. If the French chose to approach the castle by sea or by land, they would be caught.
Eva was just glad that Doctor Bennett had been able to convince the earl to return to London for care. She wasn’t sure how they would have laid the trap if he had remained in residence. It was no doubt a sign of his infirmity that he had agreed so readily.
“But I shall hold you to your promise of support for Thorgood and Miranda,” he’d said, as if he would bargain even now.
“We will do what we must to keep them solvent,” James had vowed. “I’ll come to London soon to make the arrangements.”
He had nodded. Either he trusted them to do the right thing, or he was once again plotting something. Only time would tell.
Abigail stiffened now. “Hst!” She lay a hand on Eva’s arm.
Eva heard it too. The slight creak of a door opening, the clack of a heel against the polished wood floor of the great hall. She frowned at Jesslyn, who shrugged as if just as mystified.
“Stay here,” Abigail whispered. She had arrived wearing a dark hooded cloak, which she draped around her now to become a shadow. She slipped through the kitchen and out into the unlit corridor. Eva, Jesslyn, and Maudie remained frozen on the benches, and Eva thought they were listening as hard as she was. She nearly fell off her seat when Abigail materialized back in the servants’ hall.
“Someone’s in the great hall,” she whispered. “I just caught sight of a shadow near the hearth, by one of those tall statues.”
They all glanced in that direction, as if they could see their mysterious visitor.
“What’s he doing?” Abigail asked, face bunched.
“How’d he get past the magistrate and militia?” Jesslyn whispered back.
Maudie shook her head. “Why is he bothering? Only fairies use that hidey hole.”
“Hidey hole?” Jesslyn asked.
“In the statue,” Eva realized. “Quickly, now. We cannot allow him to escape. Abigail, go out the kitchen door and find James. The rest of us will keep this villain busy.”
Abigail nodded and hurried for the door.
“What do you intend?” Jesslyn asked, rising.
“We’ll defend the castle to our deaths,” Maudie agreed, joining her.
“That’s the idea,” Eva said. “If this person has been watching the castle so carefully, hiding in our very midst, it’s possible he’s heard that Castle How is haunted. He may well have been counting on the legend to keep others away. Let’s show him what the castle ghosts think of his scurrilous actions.”
~~~
The moon had just risen, sending a silvery light across the grass and wildflowers that ringed Castle How. Hidden among the trees, James glanced at his men. They crouched around him, gazes steady, guns close at hand. Not one had balked at being ordered to serve, even when they’d heard they might be facing trained French soldiers.
Still, it could be a long wait. They had no way of knowing when their quarry might return or how many there would be. He could only hope they would all learn the answers to their many questions tonight.
“Magistrate, look!”
James turned toward the sound. Lawrence was staring back the way they had come. James saw it too,
a glow where there should be none. A moment more, and he smelled smoke.
“Fire!” someone else cried.
James rose. “Lawrence, young Mr. Lawrence, Carroll, Greer—you’re with me. Ellison, Hornswag, take the rest and see if you can put that out.”
His men moved off into the darkness.
The rest shifted around him. The smoke was thicker now, the castle a hazy shape beyond the trees. James was debating sending the rest of them after the others when Greer pointed toward the castle.
“There!”
A cloaked figure slipped out the rear door and darted across the grass to disappear into the trees. His men raised their muskets.
James frowned. If this was their quarry, why was he moving away from the castle instead of toward it? If he had managed to make his way past them, wouldn’t he be heading for the caves?
“Hold your—” he started.
A musket boomed.
With a cry, the shadow fell.
“Guns down!” James roared, surging to his feet. “Stay here and wait for my command.”
Bending low, he raced for the fallen figure.
He recognized her the moment he reached her side. Abigail Archer lay on the grass, cloak spread around her, one hand pressed to her arm. Black in the moonlight, blood trickled past her fingers.
“You might teach them to recognize friend from foe,” she said.
James crouched at her side. “How badly are you hurt?”
“I think it was a glancing blow, but it certainly stings.” She winced as he helped her to sit. “More importantly, you need to know someone is in the castle and not heading for the caves. Eva and the others are trying to hold him until you can capture him.”
No use for silence, not after that shot. “To me!” he shouted, and the rest of his men dashed out from among the trees. “Lawrence, Carroll,” he said as they reached his side, “take Miss Archer to Doctor Bennett. Young Mr. Lawrence, fetch the others. Greer, follow me. Someone’s in the castle. We aim to capture, not kill. Shoot without my direct order, and I will see you up on charges. Now, move!”
He and Greer rushed across the ground, stormed up the stairs, and burst through the door into the great hall. James held up his hand, and Greer tensed beside him, gaze wary.
The moonlight only reached so far. Darkness obscured the upper part of the stairs, the landing above. A dozen Frenchmen might have been sighting down their muskets even now.
Yet, out of the darkness came a wail, eerie and cold. Greer took a step closer to James.
Down the corridor from the kitchen moved a specter. Draped in white, it seemed to glide along the floor. The light of the lantern held in its grip gave it an unearthly glow.
Greer edged away from the menace.
The specter pointed a finger toward the great hall. “Beware!”
Was that warning for them or someone else? Before James could respond, a man leaped from the darkness to pelt for the door.
James intercepted him. “That’s enough.”
Greer lifted his gun and pointed it at the man, who slumped.
“Well done, Jesslyn!” Eva called, stepping into view from around the stairs.
“The Hound of the Headland would be proud,” Mrs. Tully agreed, joining her.
The specter pulled the drapery off over its head with its free hand to reveal Miss Chance, who smiled at James. He saluted the three of them, then turned to the man before him.
“Well, Harris?” he demanded. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Eva moved closer to the tableau, Jesslyn and Maudie at her heels. It simply didn’t make sense that the man facing James should be Mr. Harris. He’d seemed so…so…harmless. Where were the rest of James’s men? And what had happened to Abigail? Had James told her to wait outside for her own safety, not knowing what they might face inside?
“This is all a misunderstanding,” Mr. Harris was chattering, hands up and eyes wide. “I am a friend of the Earl of Howland. He requested that I confirm the house had been locked properly. When I found the door unlocked, naturally I thought to look further. And then Miss Chance nearly scared the life out of me.”
He lowered his hands to wag a finger in Jesslyn’s direction. “Quite the prank, my dear. You nearly had me fooled.”
“And you don’t fool me for an instant,” Eva proclaimed. “The earl has been ill. He never had a visitor except for Doctor Bennett for the last two days. When did he ask you to look after the castle?”
“Why, at the spa the day he visited with you,” he said.
Eva looked to James, who was frowning. The earl had spoken to Harris that day, but she’d thought it only a casual greeting. Were they greater intimates, then?
“And how are you acquainted with my cousin?” James asked, as if his thoughts ran along the same lines as Eva’s.
Harris evidently thought he was no longer under suspicion, for he smiled. “I met him in London through mutual friends. A fine fellow. So generous.”
“Is he talking about the same earl?” Maudie muttered to Eva.
Eva shook her head.
The thud of boots heralded the arrival of the rest of the militia. They crowded into the great hall, fanned out around James. Their gazes narrowed on Harris.
“Behold our intruder,” James told them. “He claims the earl invited him here. I find myself in doubt. Turn out your pockets, sir.”
“Surely there’s no need,” Harris started.
Mr. Ellison was having none of it. “Our magistrate asked you to turn out your pockets, my lad. Allow me to be of assistance.” Handing his gun to another, he set about patting the fellow’s body, strong hands moving fast. Harris winced.
Mr. Ellison delivered a pocket watch, a handkerchief, and a key that looked suspiciously like the one Eva had been given to the castle.
“Not much to show for himself,” the baker said.
James fingered the key. “Except this. How did this come into your possession?”
“The earl gave it to me. How was I to lock the castle without it?” Harris aimed a scowl all around. “You have no call to detain me. I was only doing my duty.”
“He’s lying, and I can prove it,” Eva said. She tugged on Maudie’s arm. “Will you show me where the fairies hide their notes?”
Maudie nodded toward the militia. “You want this lot to know?”
Eva glanced around as well. The militia of Grace-by-the-Sea stood taller, as if they intended to earn her trust. They already had it.
“Yes,” Eva said. “These are our neighbors, our friends. They deserve to know.”
Maudie headed past them all to stop by the Grecian water bearer nearest the door. “There, under her arm. That’s where I found the fairy writing.”
Eva joined her to reach into the small hollow. She plucked out the paper inside.
“You found one too!” Maudie exclaimed.
Eva brought it back to James. “And why did you leave this, Mr. Harris?”
Harris twitched, as if he longed to grab the note and run, but his smile remained pleasant. “And what have you there? A love note?”
James opened the paper and angled it toward Jesslyn’s lamp. The random letters and numbers seemed to jump off the page.
“A cipher,” James said. “I’m sure Mr. Carroll can make short work of this.”
Harris jerked away and ran.
Mr. Greer stopped him, and the other militiamen weren’t far behind.
“Where are your compatriots?” James demanded as they brought him back to face him again. “If you give them up, it might go easier on you.”
He sneered. “And if you let me go, it might go easier on you when Napoleon overruns your measly little village.”
The militia bristled.
“So, you admit to working with the French,” James said. “Do you claim the earl condones it?” His tone was stern, his face determined. Eva would not have wanted to face him in the docket.
Harris started laughi
ng. “Condones it? The earl profits from it. Or didn’t you know the House of Howland was in such dire straits?”
James didn’t waver. Eva had never been so proud of him. “Whether we are in a difficult financial position or not has nothing to do with the loyalty an Englishman owes his country. What is your excuse, sir?”
“I know how to choose the winning side,” Harris said. “You think the fires I lit were bad? Your little village will be swept through, picked clean, and left to bleach in the sun.”
James stepped back from him, contempt written on every feature. “Ellison, Truant, take him to the village and lock him in the jail. Is the fire out?”
“Fire?” Eva asked, but his men were nodding.
James nodded as well. “Then the rest of you, light lamps and search the castle to make sure he’s left no one and nothing else behind.”
“They’re coming for you!” Harris shouted as the men pulled him toward the door.
“We’ll be ready,” James vowed.
The other militiamen gathered lamps from the great hall, withdrawing room, and music room, then climbed the stairs to search the upper stories. James turned to Eva, Jesslyn, and Maudie.
“The Lady of the Tower, I take it,” he said with a bow to Jesslyn.
“A poor likeness,” Maudie admitted.
“But it certainly put the fear into our spy,” Eva added. “Who knew damping holland covers could be so useful? I must remember to thank Yeager for storing them in the kitchen.”
“And I should return them,” Jesslyn said. “Do you require the lantern, Magistrate?”
“The moonlight is sufficient, but thank you,” James said.
They moved off. As quiet settled over the great hall, Eva closed the distance between her and James.
“I’m surprised you didn’t want to play the ghost,” James told her.
“Jesslyn is taller,” she explained. “It made a better effect. Besides, I thought I stood a better chance of knocking him down if needed. So, you were right. The earl was involved in all this.”
