by Claudy Conn
“Don’t we, though?” Orson stuck in as he leaned forward and caught his mother’s attention. “May I remind you that it is my older brother who shall inherit Montlaine itself, along with the title, but still will share a good deal of the income with our cousin, Mary!”
His mother did not respond to this as they had arrived at the great doors of Penrod Tower. The footmen were already hurrying forward to open the door of the coach.
“What does it all matter?” Sheila stuck in before the door was opened wide. “There is a waiting period before our brother can claim his inheritance. They haven’t found a body and as to Mary, she is missing. Perhaps she will stay that way!”
Mother and son exchanged a look and the women were helped to the ground by the footman extending his arm.
* * *
Epps, Montlaine’s man, waited for the Montlaine coach to round the bend of the long, winding drive that led away from Montlaine Castle.
Beneath his breath he cursed the Echworth family, then, unable to stop himself, he grumbled out loud, “Vultures, the lot of ‘em.”
In the crook of his arm, a bundle rested as he scurried over the rough-hewn land toward the moors heading for Bodmin Heights.
He knew the moors better than most, he did, and was proud of the fact. He smiled to himself as he remembered how he had shared his secrets with Bret of Montlaine when the lad was still in short-coats.
He knew the Echworths were headed for Penrod, so he had plenty of time, and he raised his eyes heavenward and asked that the Lord sanctify his mission. He was a wiry man and moved easily through the low brush and yellow wildflowers. Heather was beginning to give off its intoxicating scent and he thought how he loved the land with its wild terrain.
No one came to these moors. They were superstitious in Cornwall, and this particular stretch of moors was associated with lewd tales of witchcraft. More so now, since the night Montlaine lost his life.
Rumor had it that Montlaine’s soul had found the demon horse, Midnight, and they rode the moors of Bodmin seeking revenge. Rumor, he grinned to himself, started by no other than himself.
Montlaine turned sharply at the sound of pebbles shifting over the craggy slope. A slow, sincere smile spread across his lean face. “Epps, my man, where the deuce have you been?” His tone belied his growing frustration, but his man, he could see, was not fooled.
Epps gave him a quick once-over and grunted. “Ye aren’t faring well. No doubt being cooped up all day, every day, does not sit well.”
“At least I get to travel about at night, not that it has done me much good,” the viscount answered on a heavy sigh.
“Dinna ye think on that which won’t help,” Epps said. “I’m that sorry I couldn’t get to ye sooner, but those devils had their eye on me.” He shoved the bundle under his arm forward and waited for the viscount to take a quick look inside before he said, “Thought ye might need these, seeing as ye can’t be doing laundry here.”
“Thank you, Epps…ah, now how did you get all this cheese and meat out of the kitchen without Cook being aware?”
Epps grinned. “I dinna tell her a thing, but Cook is a savvy one, she is. Watched m’comings and goings and figured it out. Told me I best take good care of ye or she would box m’ears.”
The viscount laughed out loud and then shook his head. “Midnight is low on grain, and that last wagon of hay is nearly done.”
“I thought as much. I’ve got another wagon full. I’ll pick up another load from the field and some will just fall off m’cart without me noticing, if anyone chooses to ask.”
“Let it fall off on the moors, I’ll manage it from there.” He stared off into space for a moment and added, “’Tis about time I came out of hiding and attended to my affairs in proper fashion.”
“No, m’lord. Ye canna do that. Why, ye’d be hanging yerself and the proud Montlaine name,” Epps cried. “I’ve set about looking for the villain that killed that poor girl and I’ll find him, I will. Then ye’ll make yerself known and take over m’investigation.”
“Epps, it is no good…me staying here like this.” By now, the two had reached the wide opening of the cave the viscount had been calling home. To one side of the cave was a makeshift stall where Midnight now pawed the ground, anxious for a run. To the other, blankets had been piled up as a bed, along with various eating utensils.
“What about that friend of yers, Mr. Parks? Has he naught come up with anything yet?” Epps asked anxiously.
“Parks has been doing all that he can, especially as he is also trying to stall the legal transfer of my estate to my heirs.”
“Whot he should be doing is talking to poor Melony’s friends…that’s whot. Aye, jest whot I been doing meself.”
“Have you, Epps? And what have you discovered?”
“The wench was wit child, which we all knew already. No doubt, her killer is also the father of her baby. I’ve been trying to find out who she was seeing. Fact is, begging yer pardon, m’lord, ye weren’t the light in her eyes. She had a lover all right and it weren’t ye.”
“Well, well, so she was the one playing fast and loose with me, was she?” The viscount would have laughed had the poor girl not lost her life. “Any guess who her lover had been?”
Epps shook his head. “Don’t, that is the sorry state of it. No one seems to know, though she used to meet him at night. More than one person saw her skulking about in town and had a thought or two about what she was up to. Her mother knew as well that she was sneaking out of her room and pretending she was asleep in her bed.” He shook his head. “Her mother always thought it was you, especially when she found yer piece of glitter in her hand that awful night…” his voice trailed off.
“And, of course, the entire town saw me often enough flirting with the poor girl in the light of day. But, Epps, I don’t know what it is, but it is more than what it seems.”
“Aye, but what are you saying?”
“I am saying, Epps, that I know that more than one girl was leaving her cottage at night, dressed in those odd hooded garments they found her wearing.”
Epps nodded. “Aye, there is a strange truth. And what of our neighboring tenants having problems with their cattle? Our tenants’ herds never seemed affected by the strange illnesses that befell those others. Made people take notice of ye and wonder. And those wenches…daughters of neighboring tenants none of yer own.” Epps studied him. “Ye are as handsome a buck as ever there was one, but ye do have those eyebrows and then coming from the war with not a scratch. Well, superstitious folk will go on about sech things.”
The viscount grinned broadly. “You had better get back before you are missed up at the house. In the future, Epps, I think we should limit our visits to the tunnel, as we have in the past.”
“Aye, but I won’t be missed. It’s why I was late getting here. The Echworths are up at Penrod, looking for information on Miss Mary.”
“Are they, by God!” the viscount thundered, and stood straight and to his full six foot plus height. They’ll not have her while I am alive. Epps, I’ll come out of hiding before I will allow that.”
“Aye, but no, ye won’t do that. What good would it do our Mary? They would clap ye in irons, they would. Besides, our people tell us Penrod hides her well. But she grieves for ye and which makes me sick at heart. She comes up here to Bodmin and it sore muddles my head when I think on it. Might be right if I was to drop a hint that ye be alive.”
“Not yet, Epps. If she knows I am alive and living this way, she will want to see me, make certain I have food and whatever else she deems I need. It would end in trouble.”
“Aye, och…these are sad days at Montlaine,” his man moaned.
The viscount laughed good-naturedly. “They are no better at Bodmin Heights, no better indeed.”
Chapter Seven
After hugs and laughter, Ness took a tour of the room, all the while expounding her view of the hypocrisy of society and ending on a heavy sigh to add, “And to think that i
nstead of rewarding me for a job well done—for I beat that canting park saunterer, I am banished to Cornwall!” She turned to her godmother, a woman she had long ago learned to confide in as a friend. “Where is the justice in that, Guss?”
As it happened, Augusta Penrod personally saw nothing shocking in a female taking on a race and winning it and said so, but countered it with, “Ah, but, my dear, although I have always been an independent woman, my causes were always supported by my husband, and now, as the widow of my dearest Penrod, I have a great many influential friends…loyal to his memory and fond of me. You, on the other hand, are still a young maid and such behavior just will not be allowed without consequences.” She reached out and took up Ness’s hand. “My love, your lease of infancy was up some years ago. You know as well as I that justice does not always prevail.”
Ness sighed again and turned to her brother and accused, “And you. You are a man! You don’t think I did something wicked, do you?”
He actually did not and was quick to assure her on this point, turning to his cousin to join in on this opinion. Randall of Southvale did agree and said so.
Pleased with their response, Ness said, “I suggest we start to do something about such inequalities. Women should not be subjected…” and then remembered the face of the frightened girl she had seen and interrupted herself to say, “oh, Guss, I saw…”
Once again, Toby entered the room and announced the Echworths of Montlaine. The butler’s face was rigid with disapproval when Mr. Orson, closely followed by his mother and sister, swept imperiously past him.
Ness’s eyes glittered with amusement as she witnessed this and turned immediately to see that her dear Guss did not look pleased.
Under her breath, Ness clearly heard Guss whisper, “Drat.”
Aha, thought Ness, unwanted visitors. She turned and surveyed the newcomers with interest.
Orson Echworth had poise and was not unattractive in a florid sort of way, Ness thought as she watched him bow low over Lady Penrod’s offered hand.
“In or out of London, my lady, you are ever the irresistible magnet,” he said, and his voice was low and flirtatious.
Ness was not surprised by this. Augusta Penrod had never been a beautiful woman, but she was, Ness thought, very attractive and always in the first style. She was tall and elegant, charming, and well versed in every aspect of the beau monde. She had often seen the young London beaus flirt with her ladyship.
“Scamp,” Lady Penrod said as she rapped his hand and turned to his mother and sister.
Ness’s brow went up as Guss scarcely smiled when she greeted these two women, and there was something frigid in her tone when she said, “Mrs. Echworth, Sheila, how good to see you are out and about.”
Whatever did that mean? Ness wondered as her ladyship turned to Toby and requested refreshments be brought. Ness was also surprised to see an ‘odd’ glance exchanged between the retainer and her ladyship. All her instincts were on alert, but she found herself fending off a very aggressive Orson Echworth, without very much help from her brother and cousin, who were bowing low over Sheila Echworth’s hand.
The amenities passed quickly before an uncomfortable and momentary silence ensued.
Her ladyship, never at a loss, mentioned the regent’s latest escapade, but Mrs. Echworth seemed impatient to get onto something else, and Ness watched her closely.
“Lady Penrod,” Mrs. Echworth said, and paused for a pregnant moment. “I hesitate to speak of our troubles before your guests…”
There it was, thought Ness, who leaned forward. She had been right! A mystery in Cornwall? How exciting!
“Would you like us to leave?” Ness offered, hoping the rules of politeness would prevent Mrs. Echworth from asking for such a catastrophe.
Lady Penrod disliked Mrs. Echworth. Instant umbrage at the thought of dismissing Vanessa and the lads struck her as intolerable. Mrs. Echworth’s troubles were common knowledge and sooner or later, Ness would hear of it, thus, it might as well be here and now.
“Don’t be silly, dearest Ness. Mrs. Echworth has no objection to your remaining to finish your tea.” She smiled coldly at Mrs. Echworth, whose smile faded on her unattractive face.
“Well, then, this is no idle visit, my lady. We are most distressed…about Mary!” Mrs. Echworth blurted out. “We don’t know where she is. There are papers to sign, legal…”
“And, of course, we are worried about our cousin,” Orson stuck in, giving his mother a ‘look’. “She is, after all, only a child. Where can she have gone?”
“I would think perhaps to relatives in London. I heard talk among the servants that she was helped in that endeavor,” offered her ladyship with ever so slight a blush creeping into her cheeks. The Echworths didn’t apparently take note of her pink cheeks, but Vanessa did, and with some quiet surprise.
“But,” Orson returned, so very quietly and with an affected hint of puzzlement, “we are Mary’s closest relatives and were at Montlaine, why would she not come to us?”
“But, as you say, you were already at Montlaine when all…the horror began!” her ladyship snapped, unable to contain her contempt at this juncture. “Perhaps Mary did not feel you had…interceded on her brother’s behalf and would not have done so on hers.” She put up her hand and added, “I see I have shocked you with my candor. However, all I can say is that it is too bad I was in London at the time Montlaine was accused and subsequently chased to his untimely death.”
Vanessa gasped at the same time her brother and cousin said in unison, “My word.”
Her ladyship allowed them the moment before continuing, “If I had been at Penrod, it is for certain that matters would not have progressed as they inevitably did.”
“So, you are saying that she would not have come here in your absence?” Orson asked, ignoring everything she had just said.
Lady Penrod did not smile as she said, “If Mary could not feel safe at Montlaine with you, her closest relatives, among her own servants, who I know all care greatly for her well-being, how then could she feel safe at Penrod without me here, without my authority in attendance? No, make no mistake, she has gone to London.”
Orson stood, his mother and sister followed suit. It was obvious to Ness that they had not been convinced. It was also obvious that if they did not leave, her ladyship would have dismissed them.
“I am sorry we have had to trouble you while you were entertaining,” Mrs. Echworth managed to say.
“No trouble. I was meaning to stop by and offer you my condolences. It still is, however, so very difficult for me to even talk about, and I can only imagine what grief it dredges up to be reminded. Tell me, is it true that Midnight actually broke out of his stall and cannot be found?” Lady Penrod asked, Nessie thought, very carefully.
“Yes, I am afraid so, at least, according to Epps. Personally, I think the old groom sold the horse for a pretty sum and pocketed the money,” Mrs. Echworth said with an accompanying sniff.
Toby appeared with the tea tray and Lady Penrod, ever polite, said, “Oh, do stay and have tea with us.”
“No, I think not. I should like to get home and jot off a letter to Duncan. He is in London, you know, and perhaps he can find Mary,” Mrs. Echworth answered.
She turned and smiled, and Ness realized that Sheila was flirting outrageously with both her brother and cousin.
Ness’s eyes narrowed, for they were among the biggest marriage prizes in the beau monde, and she had no doubt that Miss Sheila Echworth was fully aware of that.
Mrs. Echworth touched her daughter’s arm and said with a sweet smile, “Come along, Sheila.”
Good-byes were exchanged and Nessie turned to Lady Penrod and said, “Well! Now, my dearest Guss, you may tell me just what that was all about.” Her finger went up as she giggled. “And you needn’t try and do me up brown, for I shall find out in the end, you know.”
Chapter Eight
Armed with a great deal more information than she had expected Lady Penr
od had wished to give her, and sure that her dear Guss had left an even greater secret untold, Ness had spent a night full with dreams of a man she had never met.
Guss had not been able to help herself when she spoke of Montlaine, describing his looks, his charm, his kind heart, and how deeply she felt his loss. He had been accused of a crime, her ladyship was adamant he could never, would never have committed.
Lady Penrod had taken them into the village, via coach, although Ness would have preferred to ride. The village was charming. While her brother and cousin went off to the Red Tavern to have a ‘look see’, as her brother offered, she and Guss went shopping for what seemed like hours before her ladyship relented and they stopped at a local coffee shop for lunch.
It took some time before her ladyship’s driver found the lads and they returned to join them for the ride home.
Once home, Ness hurried upstairs and donned a sky blue silk riding habit with a matching hat. Its white feather curled around her golden locks, hanging about her shoulders and back. She hadn’t bothered to have her maid dress it up. She was in the wilds of Cornwall, after all.
She sought out her brother and cousin and found them up for a late afternoon ride.
Ness sighed happily, as it was a clear crisp early summer’s day and the sun setting in the west looked glorious.
All at once, she squeezed her horse’s flanks, keeping the mare in an extended canter as they took the dirt road. At her back rode her brother and cousin. Ahead of them lay Montlaine, eerie in its grey jutting form, irregular, start, and totally magnificent against a darkening sky.
“Ho there, Shadow,” Ness called as she reined in to await the progress of her companions.
Her brother drew up alongside and complained, “Confound it, girl! Must you run neck or nothing?”
Ness smiled indulgently. “I daresay you and Randy are done in by now, but need I remind you that I was cooped up in dress shops nearly all day with Guss. Then she had me do some, ugh, letter writing, and then one of her crusty old dowager acquaintances called on her.” She grimaced. “Dull sport, I do assure you, but this…riding in the wind is heaven.”
