Change of Heart

by Margaret Eastvale

  Anne’s heart thudded unbearably as she listened. So it had been Julia’s action that forced him to remain with her, not his own choice. How different that made things look! But there was no time to consider the implications now. Brusquely she thrust James aside. Half measures were useless. Grabbing her sister’s shoulders, she shook her violently.

  ‘She sent him warning because he was blackmailing her. Wasn’t he, Julia? Wasn’t he?’

  ‘Yes!’ Julia sobbed. ‘Yes, yes, yes! Oh it all started innocently enough. You cannot imagine how mean Thomas was. He’d never give me money for clothes or anything. Phillip could see how miserable that made me. He offered to arrange things so that I got a share of the rents. After all, it was my due! Thomas was supposed to support me, wasn’t he? I don’t know how Phillip managed it, but he seemed to get it past old Stoneleigh easily enough. The money came and that was all I cared. I just had to borrow Thomas’s seal and a few papers.

  He never suspected a thing, so I suppose Phillip was tempted to take a little extra for himself too.’

  ‘More than a little, and it carried on after Thomas died,’ Edmund commented. ‘He got greedier and greedier. Why didn’t you try to stop him? Or had he some other hold over you?’

  ‘It was the letters,’ Julia admitted at last. ‘Phillip was so kind and sympathetic after Thomas got mixed up with those dreadful women that I was indiscreet. I wrote some foolish letters. He threatened to publish them if I tried to stop his borrowings from the estate. So I said nothing, and all the time he needed more and more—for gambling and women too—like that slut of an actress,’ she added viciously.

  ‘And what happened when Edmund came home and he saw his source of income drying up?’ prompted Anne.

  ‘He was terrified that Edmund would find out. I begged him to confess. I promised I would not let Edmund prosecute him. But he said that if I breathed a word he would show Edmund the letters, and I was too ashamed.’

  And afraid that it would wreck her plans to marry Edmund, thought Anne but kept the reflection to herself. She contented herself with observing, ‘So you let him try to kill Edmund without saying a word?’

  ‘I didn’t know that it was Phillip,’ Julia insisted. ‘All those things could have been accidents. I kept hoping that you were mistaken. I pleaded with Phillip—promised that whatever Edmund did I would keep him on at Melthorpe—but that didn’t satisfy him.’

  ‘The pickings are richer at Ashorne,’ Anne pointed out tartly.

  ‘It wasn’t only that.’ Julia hesitated then went on jerkily, ‘He’d become very—very ambitious—-wanted to marry me—I kept putting him off but it was getting harder…’ Anne stared in amazement at her sister. She knew Julia was foolish, but had never dreamed she had got herself into such an entanglement with the steward. Edmund seemed equally dumbfounded. Only James was unshocked. Putting his arms around the stricken beauty, he tried to shield her from their interrogation. She clung to him, sobbing.

  ‘Don’t worry, Julia dear,’ he comforted her. ‘I won’t let them torment you any more.’

  Turning on the others he said fiercely, ‘Can’t you see she is overwrought?’

  ‘Not too upset to try to wind another poor fool in her toils,’ Edmund told him bluntly. ‘Her own sister’s fiancé at that! I’ve come to realise over the past weeks that she is vain, shallow and selfish, but I had never supposed her so unfeeling as to ignore her son’s peril in her eagerness to charm another victim. I am ashamed that I ever believed myself in love with her!’

  ‘Anne understands my affection for her sister,’ James replied stiffly. ‘Our relationship is no concern of yours. I have never made a secret of my deep regard for Julia.’

  ‘Never mind that now,’ Anne interrupted impatiently. ‘It is Kit who matters, not our quarrels! How can we rescue him? I hold little hope for his safety if he remains with Weston.’

  ‘Phillip won’t harm a child,’ said Julia without much conviction.

  ‘Don’t fool yourself,’ Anne urged. ‘He has already shown himself ruthless in his dealings with Edmund.’

  ‘But Kit is only a baby…’

  ‘And so more easily silenced,’ said Edmund. ‘Live in Cloudcuckooland if you wish, Julia, but I am not so naive. I know how it feels to be a captive, and I don’t want that poor child to suffer it too long. We’ve only returned to fetch more men and fresh horses. I can see them ready outside now.’ He hurried out, flinging his last words over his shoulder. ‘I mean to do my best to rescue the boy and bring that rogue to justice. I think when you come to your senses you’ll thank me for it!’

  Anne looked coldly at her sister who had relapsed into tears on James’s shoulder. For once she had no sympathy at all for Julia. ‘You deserved every word of that. I hope you realise that you’ve dished yourself properly with Edmund now! If you are wise you will make the best of a bad job and settle for James instead!’

  Drenched blue eyes widened in amazement. ‘But—but James is going to marry you.’

  ‘Not if there is any chance of your having him. Surely you know that he has been crazy over you for years? He doesn’t care a fig for me.’ James began to protest, but she cut him off with, ‘Don’t try to be polite, James. You know our engagement was a ghastly mistake—one I have intended to put right for some time now.’

  ‘You are still hoping to catch Edmund, I suppose,’ Julia commented waspishly. ‘I don’t give much for your chances.’

  ‘Nor I,’ Anne agreed. ‘I doubt if he will ever want to see any of us again when all this is over. Fortunately that was not my aim.’

  ‘No?’ Recovering a little now, Julia raised disbelieving eyes.

  ‘No! I just discovered that I could not face the prospect of a lifetime of watching James drool over you. I’ve too much pride. But don’t let us quarrel over that. It is Kit I am concerned about, if you are not! Edmund has little idea where to start searching, but I suspect that you have. Where would Weston have taken him?’

  ‘Phillip won’t hurt Kit if we leave him alone,’ Julia said defensively.

  ‘Your faith in him is touching, but I’d rather not run the risk of your being wrong. Oh granted he’ll keep him alive for a while yet. Kit is his safe-conduct at present, but once that role is played the child becomes a liability. Can Weston afford to let his hostage go free to betray where he has disappeared to?’ As she saw indecision waver in the delicate features, Anne pressed more urgently, ‘You know where he might be, don’t you? Somewhere he is likely to have Rosy Delamare concealed, waiting for him. Tell me before it is too late.’

  As she had hoped, the reference to the girl tipped the balance.

  ‘There is a cottage,’ Julia said slowly, ‘where I sometimes used to meet Phillip…’ She peered from under long lashes to gauge James’s reaction to the admission. ‘I know it was foolish of me, but what could I do when he had such a hold over me? I had to agree…’

  ‘Was this before or after Thomas died?’ Anne asked tartly, then repented. ‘I’m sorry, Julia, that was uncalled for. Where exactly is this place?’

  ‘Just off the London Road—along the track about a mile before the toll gate.’

  ‘I know it. A derelict building surrounded by trees. Just the spot to hide Rosy. I’ll warrant he calls back for the jewellery if not the girl. Pray heaven it is not too late to catch him there!’

  ‘You cannot mean to go careering off round the countryside?’ exclaimed James, catching at her arm. ‘Not when poor Julia needs your support.’

  ‘I shall not need to if you let me go. If I hurry I may catch Edmund, otherwise I shall have to follow him.’

  ‘But poor Julia is too distressed to be left,’ bleated James.

  ‘Not half as distressed as Kit must be. He needs me more than Julia does. Or were you offering to go in my place?’

  ‘No, James!’ shrieked Julia. ‘Don’t leave me. You are such a comfort. Let her go if she must, but I need you!’

  Anne was forgotten as he clasped the sobbing widow to his c
hest. Almost she felt sorry for James, but not quite. He deserved all he got, though probably he would be content however badly Julia treated him. Anne felt only relief that she was rid of him.

  She sped to the stables, but Edmund was already gone, taking all but one elderly groom with him. The best horses were gone too, only three badly winded mounts and one slow mare were left. Anne wavered in an agony of indecision. What was her best course? Was there time to follow and enlist Edmund’s aid, or must she act alone?

  It was useless to appeal to James. He was too slow and ponderous to be any help, even if he could be induced to leave Julia. From the look in his eyes as she left, he had been about to chance all on an immediate declaration. Neither he nor Julia would forgive an interruption.

  She would risk their anger if it served any useful purpose, but she could not believe it would.

  Grimly, Anne recognised that time was running away fast. Weston would lose none in leaving the area and she doubted whether he would burden himself with either of his encumbrances for long in his flight. If she wasted precious minutes seeking Edmund they might be too late.

  Reluctantly she accepted that there was no real choice. She might not be able to tackle Weston unaided, but she could watch to see which way he went, if nothing else, and tell Edmund when he caught up. She ordered the groom to saddle the least weary of the horses for her and the mare himself. As he worked she gave him detailed instructions.

  ‘Go alone, miss?’ He stared in horror at her. ‘I can’t let you do that. His lordship would never forgive me. Anyway, you can’t ride like that—you’ll ruin your dress.’

  ‘What does that matter?’ she snapped. ‘There is no time to change into riding clothes. I must find Master Kit before any harm comes to him. No more arguments, they only waste time. Take the mare—she is at least fresh’—and deliver my message to Lord Ashorne. Hurry now!’

  As he spurred away to find Edmund she set off alone, with sinking heart, towards the cottage.

  CHAPTER

  TEN

  Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! The rhythm of her horse’s hooves drummed the words into Anne’s head as she thundered along the lanes, too anxious to have any fear for herself. All her energy was concentrated in urging the tired horse to go on.

  A picture of Kit—small, bewildered, and frightened—filled her mind unbearably. What trick had Weston used to persuade the child to go with him, she wondered. Kit would not have accompanied him willingly. He had always disliked and mistrusted the steward as instinctively as had Bess. Should she have brought the dog or would she have proved more hindrance than help? Anyway, to have fetched her from her kennel would have wasted time Anne could not afford. She had to hurry. Pray heaven no harm had come to Kit yet!

  At this time of day the roads were deserted. There was no one likely to be about to whom she could appeal for help, except perhaps at the toll-gate. That was constantly manned but riding on there would lose valuable minutes and there was no certainty that the elderly gate-keeper would believe her tale or agree to leave his post.

  She had to make her way to the cottage alone and trust that Edmund would not be too long.

  The groom must soon overtake him with her message, then Edmund would lose no time in coming to her aid. Still, however long help took to arrive, she must not falter in her resolve.

  Kit might need her now. If only she was not already too late!

  At long last the track she sought opened out beside her. Hand trembling on the reins, she turned her foam-flecked horse down it, reluctantly checking his headlong pace. The ground here was too uneven to risk a full gallop. Even at a canter the branches snatched at her clothing as if to drag her forcibly back. She tried to calm her racing heart, clear her brain, force herself to think coolly and constructively.

  What could she hope to achieve alone against a ruthless opponent? Little enough! She had no weapon and no skill to use one if she could procure it. No, she must rely on her wits. All she could try was to delay Weston until Edmund arrived. How long that might be she had no power of knowing, but until then all depended on her.

  She could just make out the chimneys of the cottage now, rising among the trees in front of her. A faint wisp of smoke drifting from one showed that the place had been used recently.

  Cautiously now! She reined the horse to a halt. The first essential was to discover whether Weston was still inside, and that was best done on foot. There was no point in rushing into danger. That would only mean delivering herself into the steward’s hands as another hostage.

  The flimsy muslin of her gown tore as Anne slid off her mount, but she paid no heed. There were more important things to worry about than her appearance. Leading him well off the track she tethered the bay out of sight among the trees. Immediately he lowered his head to crop at the grass. No one was likely to spot him here. Then, knees weak with nervousness, she moved closer to the cottage.

  It was impossible to see anything through the overgrown hedge that encircled it. Cautiously she eased open the gate and froze as its rusty hinges creaked loudly. No reaction from the cottage. She slipped into the garden, where huge unpruned shrubs shielded her from any watcher. Crouching in their cover, she crept along the weed-encrusted path till she reached the front of the cottage. Then, with infinite caution, she risked a look through the grimy windows. The room beyond the dusty panes was bare and deserted. No sign that anyone had entered it for years.

  A stab of doubt pierced her. Was it all a mistake? Had Weston gone elsewhere? Was she leading Edmund here on a wild-goose chase away from the proper trail? But someone had lit the fire whose smoke she could still smell eddying down from above. They must be in the back rooms.

  Noiselessly she edged around to the rear of the cottage. There, close to the door, stood two horses—Kit’s pony and Weston’s showy chestnut, already loaded for a journey. Anne breathed a sigh—half fear, half relief. So Weston was here and ready to depart. What now?

  She could stay where she was and watch, but if he did make his move she had no way of preventing him. He might be miles away before Edmund arrived, and what might he not do to Kit in the interval?

  If only she could remove both mounts that would slow Weston sufficiently to allow Edmund to catch up. But could she do it without being detected? To fail would be fatal; would drive him away more rapidly. If only she knew how long it would be before he made his move she could wait here in safety, but that was too risky. Edmund might be ages yet and Weston could leave at any time. She would have to risk capture to be sure of detaining him here.

  Keeping a wary eye on the cottage, she inched closer to the horses. Calmly now, or her panic would infect them! Animals were quick to sense nervousness. Her heart thudded unbearably but she managed to still her trembling limbs, murmuring soothingly to the horses as she approached. Kit’s pony, recognising her, took little notice, but the stallion fidgeted apprehensively as she came up to him.

  Scarcely daring to breathe, she unfastened first the pony them the stallion. So far, so good!

  Too risky to try to mount here. She doubted whether she could seat herself astride either of them easily in this wretched muslin gown. Then even if she managed it, there was the narrow gateway to be negotiated. It would be safer to lead them until she reached open ground.

  Whispering reassurance, she coaxed them across the untidy garden. Kit’s pony followed peacefully but the stallion jibbed at the strange hand on his bridle; he strained away, neighing in shrill protest. She struggled to calm him but he tugged backwards, rattling his hooves against the gate with a resounding clatter.

  There was a startled shout from inside the cottage. Desperately Anne pulled at the chestnut’s head but his strength was greater than hers and she could not budge him.

  ‘Who’s there?’ Weston appeared swiftly in the doorway.

  Anne knew it was hopeless to try to mount the prancing stallion now. The pony had caught some of his panic and refused to stay stiff enough for her to clamber up one-handed. To loose the more powerfu
l mount now would defeat her purpose.

  There was only one chance. Abandoning all hope of escape for herself, Anne slapped both animals hard on their rump to drive them off. At least that way she could spoil Weston’s intention to leave on horseback. Both hurtled away, squealing in fright. She chased behind, urging them on with whoops and yells, praying that they would not catch their hooves in the trailing reins. Behind her Weston pounded, cursing in fury.

  Anne’s breath came in great gasps now. She knew she could not go much further. He hesitated for a second as he caught up with her, uncertain whether to pursue the fleeing horses or make sure of her. With a last despairing spurt Anne darted sideways, but it was no use. He easily outran her.

  Twisting her arm savagely behind her he marched her into the cottage.

  ‘Anne!’ Hope flared briefly in Kit’s wan face as he saw her, but faded as Weston flung her on to a chair.

  ‘Sit there, you interfering jade!’

  Swallowing the tears of pain that threatened to engulf her, Anne stared around the room. Kit was bound to a chair beside the hearth, Rosy sprawled on a rumpled bed, her hands tied to the bedpost.

  ‘Make him let us go, Anne!’ Kit’s trembling plea wrung her heart.

  ‘There now, sweetheart,’ Rosy’s throaty reassurance filled the pause as Anne sought for words of comfort. ‘Don’t fret. You’ll be right as a trivet in a bit. ‘Tis only a silly game the naughty man’s playing with us.’

  ‘I don’t like it!’ There was a sob in his voice now. ‘Take me home, Anne.’

  ‘Quiet, brat!’ Weston ordered, ‘or I’ll give you something to cry for.’

  Kit sniffed, choking back his tears, and Anne moved instinctively to comfort him. With an oath Weston hauled her back, wrenched her arms behind the chair and tied them to the bars.

  When she kicked out in retaliation her legs were fastened with equal savagery to the rungs.

  ‘Now!’ Her captor loomed menacingly over her. ‘Perhaps you’ll explain how you came to discover us here.’