Lord Cavendish Returns

by King, Rebecca

  “I checked the boxes in the attics at the vicarage last night but the registers weren’t there, so they must be in the old crypt at Moldton. Nobody ever goes in the crypt, so it is going to be a little dusty I am afraid.”

  Harper nodded, and lifted a hand to wave at his brother, Joseph, who appeared at the gate to one of the fields a little further ahead. He carefully drew the curricle to a stop and greeted his youngest sibling.

  “Have you met Miss Farthing?”

  “Yes, I have,” Joseph replied and smiled at Arrabella carefully. “Good morning, Arrabella. I take it that my brother isn’t being too demanding of your time?”

  Arrabella smiled kindly at him. “I am quite enjoying myself actually,” she replied and flashed a contented smile at Harper that made him blink at her in shock.

  “Well, if he starts to become a nuisance just come and tell me. He isn’t too big to be put in his place.”

  To their consternation, before either of them could say anything else, Joseph turned around and disappeared. Within minutes, the dull thud of hooves drew their attention and they watched him ride over the hill and disappear from sight.

  “I hope I haven’t done anything to offend him,” Arrabella murmured as she stared at the space where Joseph had stood.

  “I don’t know what has come over him. He isn’t usually rude like that,” he turned toward Arrabella with an apologetic frown. “Of course, it has been some time since I have been home, but I cannot conceive that he would have changed that much.” He wondered where Joseph was heading off to because his farm was in the opposite direction. “I am sorry about him. He must be in a bad mood this morning.”

  “I take it that you got the opportunity to meet up with him last night?” Arrabella asked.

  “I did,” Harper replied and gave her a quick smile that was somewhat marred by his dark frown. “But he wasn’t rude and churlish like that.”

  They completed the rest of the journey in contented, if thoughtful, silence. In the churchyard, Harper drew the curricle to a stop and immediately jumped down. Given that she didn’t ride in curricles very often, she had no idea what she should do. It was an awfully long way off the ground; should she jump? Her indecision must have shown on her face because he circled the curricle and moved to stand beside her. The sight of him beside the curricle with his hands held out so that he could help her down surprised her. She wasn’t sure whether to accept his hand and climb down the narrow steps in a ladylike fashion, or launch herself at him and hope he was strong enough to bear her weight. Before she could do either, he placed his hands on her waist and lifted her clean off the conveyance.

  She barely noticed when her feet touched the floor. She was too busy thinking about how she had to tip her head right back in order to look up at him. He was far too close than was usual, or polite, but she didn’t feel threatened in the least. It felt right; protective almost. She could feel the warm caress of his breath brush gently across her face and froze when she realised that she had started to lean toward him.

  After several moments of silence, Harper stepped back and held a gentlemanly arm out to her. Arrabella studied it for a moment. Now that she came to think about it, she had never had anyone treat her with such consideration before. It was a novelty and made her feel rather special. By the time they reached the church door, she struggled to keep the smile off her face.

  “Do you have the keys?” The husky rumble of his voice broke into her thoughts but she had no idea what he had just said.

  “Pardon?”

  “Do you have the keys?” Harper fought a smile. He knew now that he had the same effect on her as she had on him. It was a relief in some ways, because he wasn’t going to have to do anything drastic to get her to notice him. He quite liked the way she had started to gaze adoringly up at him. The urge to tease her a little was strong but he didn’t want her to retreat behind the awkwardness she had clearly felt when he had arrived at the vicarage yesterday and so he smiled back at her instead.

  Arrabella handed him the keys and stood back to allow him to open the door. She shivered as she walked into the frigid air within the stone church and drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders as the cold began to bite through her thin walking dress. It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest that they stay outside in the sunshine, but then wouldn’t find them the parish records they were after. Determination to help him forced her to lead the way through the pews to the ante room.

  “The steps here go down to the old crypt where the boxes of old things are kept,” she pointed to a door that lay against the far wall. “I can only assume that the records are down there somewhere.”

  “Would they not be in the cupboard over there?” Harper pointed to the bureau against the far wall which was very similar to the one at Hambley Wood church and groaned when Arrabella shook her head.

  “I am afraid not,” she replied sympathetically. “I cleared out the cupboards in here last summer. They only contain the last two registers and the bible.”

  As she spoke she opened the door to the crypt and paused at the top of the stairs. It was really highly inappropriate of her to spend any time alone with him, even in a church crypt, but there was really very little she could do about it. She could hardly just hand him the church keys and wait outside in the sunshine while he scoured the murky crypt all by himself. Not only did it seem incredibly unfair, but she was really rather enjoying spending time with him. As the unofficial verger for the church, it was surely down to her to help anyone who sought information from the old parish records, wasn’t it?

  Mental argument fought and won, she took a deep breath and accepted the candle he handed her with a grateful smile.

  “Wait,” he murmured quietly and placed a hand on her elbow. “I will go first. Just in case the steps are slippery, or there are cobwebs or something.”

  She couldn’t hide her horror at the mention of cobwebs and he bit back a smile as she immediately stepped back to allow him to pass.

  It was darker than he had expected, and the candle he held did little to penetrate the inky blackness they descended into. He paused only briefly to make sure that Arrabella was behind him before he began to edge his way down the stone steps.

  “Are you alright?”

  “I am fine,” she assured him. “Let’s go and see what we can find, shall we?”

  Arrabella’s hand trembled a little, but she was fairly certain that it had nothing to do with her attraction to the man before her, or the threat of eight legged creatures that she was sure lurked in the corners. She hated the dark with a passion and, if it hadn’t been for the calm, reassuring presence of Harper, she wouldn’t have gone near the place.

  The last time someone had needed something that was stored down there, she had sent her father to go and fetch it. This time though, with Harper, things were different. She wanted to enjoy this adventure with him, and be the one to help him find the information he needed.

  “Which way?” Harper asked when they reached the bottom of the stairs. He lifted his candle a little higher and wished he hadn’t. Rows upon rows of plaques marked the final resting places of some of the village’s old residents. Although the crypt appeared to be blessedly intact, there was a watchful stillness to the place that did little to leave him any peace whatsoever.

  “This way,” Arrabella skirted around him and shuffled forward. She didn’t know whether to lift her candle higher and look for cobwebs, or lower it so she could keep an eye out for bumps on the floor. The last thing she wanted was to fall flat on her face and embarrass herself. In the end, she held her candle in front of her waist and hoped she was going in the right direction. “It has been a long time since I came down here. The last time we needed anything I sent my father down, but he is in York, as you know, and won’t be back until the end of the week.”

  “What are we looking for?” Harper’ voice came from just above her left ear. It felt intimate to turn her head and look up at him standing right over her shoulder, but
the broad expanse of his chest at her back settled her jittery nerves and she took a deeply fortifying breath. It was considerably easier to keep her mind focused on their job and off the thick layer of cobwebs that covered practically everywhere now that he was beside her. She just hoped he didn’t move away.

  “I think they are stored in several packing trunks. There are several volumes all together but I cannot remember if they are in one trunk or two.”

  “Is it a wooden trunk or a leather trunk?”

  “Wooden. Like those over there,” she pointed and realised then just how much work they faced. When she lifted her candle to light the area, Harper did groan at the sight of the twenty or so identical trunks that lined the far wall of the farthest part of the crypt.

  “Oh, no,” Arrabella whispered in consternation. “We are going to be here forever.”

  “I don’t mind doing this by myself if you want to go out into the sunshine,” Harper offered. It was really difficult to think with her right next to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to move away. She didn’t seem to realise that he had placed a comforting hand on her waist. To him it seemed the most natural thing to do to offer her comfort and reassurance. It wasn’t the hold he wanted to give her, but it would have to suffice for now. The fact that she hadn’t moved away was enough to assure him that she didn’t mind the intimacy one bit and, given their circumstances, might even be glad of it.

  “No, I am going to help,” Arrabella declared firmly, although made no move to approach the boxes. She eyed the floor beneath her feet and wondered if rats could claw their way through stonework. With a shudder she quickly closed that thought out and glanced up at him; and immediately wished she hadn’t.

  His once handsome features were now encased in shadows that made him look macabre and dangerous. The darkness played tricks with her and made his beautiful green eyes look like black voices of malicious intent. She tried desperately to remind herself that she was being ridiculous, but just couldn’t keep the fear off her face. When he smiled down at her and revealed a row of teeth that looked as though they were going to bite into her neck at any moment she couldn’t help it, she moved away.

  “Let’s start at this box here,” she gasped and hurriedly looked around in search of somewhere to put her candle.

  “Put it up here, look,” Harper suggested softly. He tried to keep his movements slow and non-threatening, but his voice sounded loud in the stillness of the chamber and made her jump anyway. He lifted his own candle and placed it carefully into the wall mount. It did little to light the darker corners of the large space, but at least he had his hands free and was able to pull the first of the packing boxes away from the wall so that they could lift the lid and peer into the contents.

  Harper leaned down and began to rummage through the assorted loose papers. When it was clear that there were no registers, he sighed, repositioned the lid and pushed the box back against the wall. The second box was heavier but revealed nothing more exciting than old, battered copies of hymn books that had long since gone out of fashion.

  Arrabella sighed when Harper began to shove the heavy crate back into position and eyed the long row of boxes that awaited them. If they were lucky, one of the next few they searched would contain what they were looking for and they could leave. If not, it was going to be a very long day indeed.

  The third and fourth crates were equally as heavy, and revealed nothing more than unwanted items the church no longer had a use for, but for some reason nobody had seen fit to get rid of.

  “Is it me, or does it seem darker in here to you?” Arrabella murmured several hours later. She eyed her candle warily and judged that they had no more than another hour left before they needed to either fetch more candles, or go in search of food. As if to support her theory, her stomach rumbled loudly. “Sorry,” she apologised. She was glad that the crypt was dark so that he couldn’t see the blush that coloured her cheeks.

  Harper grinned and eyed the long dark smudge across her cheek. “Now that you come to mention it, it does seem darker in here.” He studied the darkness around them with a frown. The candle on the wall was still lit, but the thin shaft of light that pointed the way to the stairs was no longer there.

  “Did you prop the door open?” Harper asked as he lifted the candle off the wall and carried it to the stairs.

  “I wedged the old iron shoe scrape against the door, if you remember?” Arrabella replied as she hurried after him.

  In all honesty Harper couldn’t remember because his attention had been firmly focused on her. Unfortunately, the reason for the increased darkness became evident when they reached the top of the stairs and found that the door was not only closed, but had apparently been locked as well.

  “Do you have the key?” He demanded and pushed at the door to see how sturdy it was. It was thick and heavy, and going to be damned near impossible to break through. The space at the top of the stairs was narrow so he couldn’t even have a run at it to try to charge it with his shoulder. He mentally swore but, in deference to Arrabella’s delicate sensibilities, kept his mouth closed.

  “I left it in the door,” Arrabella whispered. “I didn’t want to lose it down here and thought that if someone saw the door open, and the key in the door, they would know that we were down here. There shouldn’t be anyone in the church anyway. There is no service today and the cleaning ladies aren’t due in until tomorrow.”

  “Well, I am sorry to say that someone has locked it from the outside.” He bent down and lifted his candle so that he could peer through the keyhole. Whoever had locked them in had left the key in the door. He really did swear aloud this time because he now couldn’t try to jimmy the lock with the key still in it.

  “I am sorry, I didn’t think that anyone would do such a thing,” Arrabella whispered and glanced back in horror at the gloom behind her.

  “Did you tell anyone we were coming here?”

  Arrabella gulped and slowly shook her head. “My father is away in York, like I said, and isn’t due back until the end of the week. My mother is not well at the moment and left yesterday to visit a cousin in Margate. She won’t be back for several weeks at least, and Mrs Able has gone to market today. She won’t be back until late this afternoon.”

  Harper frowned and stared hard at her. “So they left you all alone in the house?”

  “I have our housekeeper, Mrs Able. She lives next door,” she replied defiantly. “Besides, I am four and twenty, and perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

  To emphasise her point she took a step back only for her booted foot to fall upon empty air. She immediately began to topple backward but luckily, was snatched by Harper, who dropped his candle and yanked her hard against his chest. They both watched in dismay as what was left of Harper’s light bumped down the stairs out of sight and left them with the rather timid flame Arrabella held.

  She didn’t know which was worse, his belief that she couldn’t be left alone, or the fact that they were now entombed in a church crypt with only the light of one candle to guide them.

  Harper tried to ignore the feel of her rounded curves so close but his wayward body began to respond anyway. He could only be glad that it was dark and she couldn’t see the effect that she had on him, or it wouldn’t be the darkness that she would be afraid of. With a shake of his head he glanced down the steps in consternation and tried desperately to keep his mind on trying to find a way to get them out of there. To kiss her now may throw her into hysteria. Getting stuck in a church crypt with a hysterical female who believed he wanted her body was the last thing he needed right now, even if she was right.

  He was used to being in the dark. It never bothered him, and he could work without light as comfortably as he could in it but clearly Arrabella was unnerved. She kept glancing over her shoulder as though the dead were going to appear at the bottom of the steps and, if she edged any closer to him, he may as well hand her his shirt to wear and be done with it.

  “There is nothing to
worry about,” Harper murmured gently, but was unable to see through the gloom well enough to be certain whether she had even heard him. “Do you know if there are any spare candles around?”

  He hated to admit it but he rather quite liked the way she clung to him. There was something about her small hands clutching at his shirt laces that made him feel inordinately strong; as though he could take on any challenge and win. She didn’t squeal or make silly feminine noises designed to drive a man insane. Instead she remained watchful and silent and allowed him to take the lead while she clung to him with an innocent trust that made him feel strong and capable of handling anything.

  Harper placed a finger beneath her chin and drew her head around until she broke her gaze away from the crypt and looked at him. “We will get out of here, Arrabella, I promise. Now, let’s see if we can find another candle.”

  He hated to tell her what they would have to do if they couldn’t find one. The candle he had carried had been considerably smaller than hers and, even if they could re-light it, they would only get about a quarter of an hour of light before it was rendered useless. Assured that she was now a safe distance away from the top of the stairs, he patted the top of the door frame and shook his head when he came up empty-handed.

  “Let’s see if we can relight your candle, and then we can search the -,” she hated to even say the word ‘crypt’. It reminded her of the dearly departed who lay at rest there. She sighed instead, and pointed with a trembling hand, “- down there, to see if there is another candle anywhere.”

  Rather than move to follow her though, Harper turned to face the door. “Hello? Can anyone hear me? Hello?” His heavy fists thumped the door over and over but only silence greeted their ears.

  Arrabella moved to join him and placed the candle at their feet while they both banged on the door. They thumped for several more minutes until the sides of their hands began to ache and they were forced to accept defeat. Whoever had closed the door had long gone, or was in a part of the church that rendered them unable to hear the cacophony he and Arrabella had made.