To Walk in the Sun (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies - Book 1)

by Charles, Jane

  “But the chocolate came from the McClary’s. Why would you suspect it of being poisoned by such a nice family?” Wesley asked.

  Vincent resumed his pacing. “Send a message and ask Mr. McClary to attend me at once. There must be a reasonable explanation.”

  She hustled out of the room and Atwood turned toward Wesley. “I want every male employee, inside and out, to begin searching the grounds and for any sign of where Percer could have taken or hide Lady Trent.”

  * * *

  Mr. McClary arrived within thirty minutes of the summons. He clutched his hat in his hands and looked at the occupants in the room. Vincent knew little of the man. His family moved here after he left for the continent.

  “Please have a seat,” he indicated to the chair in front of his desk. Tess was seated behind the man, in an overstuffed chair by the fireplace and Hopkins leaned negligently against the desk. Vincent admired his calm appearance. Before McClary arrived, Hopkins had been a pacing mess.

  “May I ask what this is about?” The man’s tone shook, though he remained erect in his seat.

  “I need to know how you came by the chocolate and what brought about its arrival in my household?”

  The man’s eyebrows creased in confusion. “My daughter’s beau purchased the store out. He is quite taken with her.” The man grinned. “Being a titled man, we couldn’t hope to do better for our little girl.”

  Tess looked up at Vincent. She narrowed her eyes. They both had the same suspicion. She mouthed Percer and frowned again.

  “Go on.” Vincent nodded to McClary.

  “Well, my wife said it was far too much. It was then the gentleman suggested sending most of it here. He was present when the tempest hit and knew you had taken in the students. Lord Percer thought it would be a nice treat for them.”

  Tess stiffened at the name, as did Hopkins. Vincent tried to remain calm when he wanted to pound his fist on the desk. “Is Lord Percer at your home now? I would like to thank him myself. It has been an age since I spoke with my former classmate.”

  The man looked at him with confusion. “Lord Percer said he had been to see you yesterday, and the day before.” McClary scratched his head. “Perhaps I am mistaken.”

  “No, Percer has not called on me,” Vincent confirmed. “Would he be at your home now?”

  “Oh, no, he left last evening. He said he had some business to attend to but would return in a fortnight or so.”

  Vincent leaned back in his chair. He thought to advise the man that Percer would not return, but did not want to reveal anything in case Percer had confided his plans, though Vincent doubted it. Instead, he asked the other question that plagued him.

  “How did you make Percer’s acquaintance?”

  “My wife and daughter met him in Bath, while she was visiting her brother and his family. He was quite taken with my Juliet, but I already told you that, I apologize.”

  Vincent forced a smile. “Is that when he made plans to visit you?”

  The man brightened. “He and my Juliet got on quite well that very first night, especially when they talked out our humble town, since he knew it so well, having visited you often.”

  No doubt when Percer learned where Juliet McClary lived, he formed an attachment to see how he could use her. He glanced over at Tess. She still frowned and mouthed the words “poor girl”.

  “And, is Miss Juliet as taken with my old friend as he is?”

  The man frowned and shook his head. “We don’t understand it. At first, she seemed to like him but by the time he left, she almost couldn’t wait for him to be gone.” He glanced up. “Oh, he hasn’t done anything improper, she has assured us of that, Juliet said he makes her uncomfortable.” He brightened. “I am sure she will feel differently once they are apart and she grows to miss him.”

  Tess sagged with relief and Vincent felt the same. Too many young women had been hurt but that man.

  Vincent stood. He had learned what he needed. “Thank you, again, Mr. McClary. And thank your wife for the chocolate. The children have enjoyed it.”

  The man stood as well. “I am glad, Lord Atwood. My wife cannot say enough about it. She has a cup every night and insists that’s why she has such a restful sleep.”

  Vincent toyed with the idea of telling the man it was drugged, but refrained. He doubted a cup a night would harm anyone. And, she had probably been drinking the stuff for a week and was still well. As they did not know where Percer was at the moment, it was best not to alert anyone to his evil. When this passed, he would write a note to Mrs. McClary and she could decide if she wished to continue drinking her evening chocolate.

  * * *

  Tess turned to Vincent as soon as the door closed behind Mr. McClary. “Percer is more evil and methodical than I even anticipated.”

  “What do we do now?” Hopkins resumed his pacing.

  “We can only wait,” Vincent sighed.

  Mrs. Zobard entered a moment later with a tea service with three cups and two pots. She left it on the table and turned one handle toward Atwood before she quit the room. He settled into the chair and poured dark liquid into his cup.

  “Would you care for tea or coffee, Lord Hopkins?” Tess asked.

  “Neither.” He marched across the room and peeked out through the curtain.

  Tess lifted the remaining pot and poured the lighter colored tea into her own before she took a sip. She wished there was something she could do, but what. They had no idea where Sophia could have gone, or when she was taken for that matter. How far could they have gotten, or were they just beyond the house, hiding in the woods.

  “Come,” Vincent called when a knock sounded at the door a moment later.

  The footman stepped into the room. The silver platter in his hand held a piece of paper. “An urgent message has arrived, Lord Atwood.”

  Vincent took the parchment and dismissed the servant. Hopkins approached and stood at Vincent’s elbow, ready to read what it contained. None of them doubted it was anything other than a message from Percer. Vincent tore open the envelope and pulled the piece of paper from its confines.

  Tess knew immediately it was the forged piece of the map she had given Percer because she could see the lines on the back of the page and feared what was written on the other side.

  “He has Sophia,” Vincent confirmed and looked up at Hopkins.

  “Good Lord. What are his demands and how do we fulfill them?” The man tugged the paper away from Vincent’s fingers.

  Tess’ stomach turned and her heart sped. Vincent looked out the window. Tess followed his line of vision. Sun lit the portion of the patio not blocked by the house. It promised to be a beautiful, clear day. At least as far as the weather and sky were concerned. With regard to the occupants in the room, a cloud of apprehension hung over each one of them.

  “When and where does he want to meet?” Tess asked after a moment.

  “In a place and at a time when I will be unable to help you.”

  “…Consider too, how deep the abyss between life and death;

  across this, my power can build a bridge, but it

  can never fill up the frightful chasm.”

  Wake Not the Dead

  Johann Ludwig Tieck

  Chapter 26

  Vincent slammed his fist against the desk. How was he to protect her now? Percer had thought of everything and managed to put Tess in the most vulnerable position possible.

  Hopkins took his piece of map from the inside of his pocket and held it out to Tess. His hand trembled.

  “I am to bring them?” Her voice sounded small, frightened.

  “We will be there also, I am sure there are places to hide,” Hopkins assured her.

  Vincent let out a bitter laugh. “There is no place to hide.”

  “I don’t understand.” Hopkins turned to him, a question in his eyes. Despite his assurance to Tess, Vincent knew the man was terrified for his daughter. Vincent was impotent to help Tess, whom he had known all of a week. H
e couldn’t imagine Hopkins’ worry for his own daughter.

  “Where am I to meet Percer?” Tess stepped forward and asked.

  Vincent looked up and took in her grey frightened eyes. “At my wife’s grave.”

  “The man is a rather morbid bastard, isn’t he?” Hopkins walked to the sideboard and refilled his glass. “But surely there is somewhere we can wait to save my daughter, kill him and protect Miss Crawford.”

  Vincent sighed and sank into his chair. There was a possibility Hopkins and those he trusted on his staff could hide somewhere in the cemetery, but what was he to do? Wait here and hope Tess returned unharmed? Not bloody likely. He glanced out the window once again. The sun had moved and his entire patio was in the shade. It was too much to hope for but he rose and walked outside to check the sky. Not a cloud in sight.

  He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to concentrate. There had to be some way he could be there, to protect Tess if nothing else, without the crippling pain. He studied the area, closed his eyes and viewed the landscape in his mind. He opened them again and looked straight ahead. It was his only option.

  Vincent turned and went back inside. “Percer demands that Tess meet him at my wife’s grave at four this afternoon. The area is open so he will know if anyone accompanies her.”

  Tess sank down into a chair and grasped her hands together.

  “You are to walk from here, not take a carriage, so he knows you are alone.”

  He could see Tess swallow as her face paled further.

  “You and I both know it is near impossible to get from here to the cemetery without being seen.”

  “You will have to stay here, won’t you?” Her eyes moistened. She blinked a few times to clear them.

  “Why? I don’t understand,” Hopkins interrupted. Vincent had almost forgotten the man was in the room in his concern for Tess.

  “I can’t go in the sun. Percer knows this, which is why I am sure he picked the place he did. There are few trees in the cemetery, and none near my wife’s grave.”

  “Then how are we to rescue my daughter and protect Miss Crawford?” the man demanded. “I will gladly go on my own, but I don’t believe one of us is enough, not if we want to protect them both.” He glanced at Tess and offered a sad, yet apologetic small smile.

  She nodded her head in understanding.

  Of course Hopkins would see to his daughter first, as would any father. “We will simply take a separate route.”

  * * *

  Tess pulled her cloak tight and attempted to button it. Her hands shook too much to accomplish the task and Natalie had to take over for her. When she was finished she hugged Tess to her.

  “It will be alright. I know it in my heart,” Natalie assured her friend.

  Tess offered up a weak smile. She was not so sure. Was this what walking to the gallows felt like? Though Vincent tried to assure her that he would protect her, Tess could not understand how that was possible. The man could not even be in a room with the curtain open on a bright day. How could he protect her in an open cemetery with the sun beating down on her?

  “I’ll say a prayer, but I am sure this will end as it is supposed to.” Claudia pulled her into her arms and squeezed her tight before relinquishing Tess to Mrs. Wiggons.

  “Now, you don’t be frightened.” She pressed a small gun into Tess’ hands. “My husband gave this to me long ago. I have kept it in working order and it is loaded.” She looked Tess directly in the eye. “Do not be afraid to use it.”

  Tess glanced down at the small pistol and her stomach clenched. She hadn’t held a gun since that fateful night she killed her uncle. Could she pull the trigger again? She wasn’t so sure. She still hadn’t fully recovered from the last time she took a man’s life.

  As if reading her mind, Mrs. Wiggons continued. “If not for yourself, then use it to save Sophia, if necessary.”

  Tess looked up at her and found a new determination. Yes, she could kill Percer if it meant saving Sophia, Hopkins or Vincent. She just wasn’t so sure she could use it to save herself. This she would not share with her employer. But, if she did have to shoot, this time she would not miss.

  “We will be right here, waiting for you to come back. The tea will be hot and Cook promised more of those lemon cakes you love.”

  Tess allowed them to escort her to the door. One would think with Mrs. Wiggon’s words and tone she was simply going into town to shop.

  At the door she turned to look at the three of them once again. Their brows were etched with worry, but they smiled encouragement. With a weak smile she turned and began her walk down the drive. Though Percer said he would meet her by the tombstone, she didn’t trust that he wouldn’t try to stop her along the way.

  Her hand slipped into her pocket and she lifted the gun. The weight felt good in her hand and offered her courage. Tess stepped onto the road. Head up, she looked in all directions. She could do this. Lives depended on her accomplishing this task and she could never live with herself if something horrible happened to Sophia because of her own fear.

  * * *

  Vincent ran from the back of the house and into the trees. As soon as he was in the shade he collapsed against a tree. Though he had kept his head down, sunlight had still reached his eyes and sent searing pain through his head. He wiped the sweat from his brow and steadied his breath. He could do this. He must do this. He could not fail Tess, even if it killed him in the process.

  Hopkins eyed him with concern. Wesley stepped forward and handed him a canteen. Vincent assumed it was water and took a deep drink. He coughed as brandy scorched his throat.

  He rested with his hands on his knees a few more minutes, until his breathing was regular once more before he looked up.

  “Can you do this, Lord Atwood,” Wesley asked as he studied Vincent.

  “I have to do this.” He pushed away from the tree and began his trek through the woods. The same tree line that bordered his property was the same for the cemetery. He could only hope nothing had been cut down in between or he wasn’t sure he could make it to his destination.

  * * *

  Tess took a deep breath and willed her heart to calm as she approached the bend in the lane. This was the only blind spot on her walk and she could not see what awaited her up ahead. Once again she tested the weight of the gun. Yes, she would use it if necessary.

  With slow, deliberate steps she rounded the corner. A man walked toward her. She tightened her hold. She could not make out his face due to the glare of the sun.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Crawford,” Mr. Connor called out.

  Tess almost collapsed with relief. “Good day, Mr. Connor,” she returned.

  The man came up to her and paused. Now was not a time for pleasantries among neighbors. She couldn’t be late for her destination.

  “It is a lovely day for a walk.” He smiled at her.

  “Yes, it is.” Please move on, I can’t chitchat right now.

  “I was going to ride over to the school, but decided a stroll would do me good.”

  On any other occasion Tess would have inquired about the horses or why he was going to their school. There was really nothing to see and he wasn’t working on the building. The only connection this man had was that he currently stabled their horses, and his infatuation with Mrs. Wiggons. That must be his purpose.

  “Mrs. Wiggons is not at the school. She is at Lord Atwood’s estate.”

  The man blushed and looked away. “Thank you for that information.” He tipped his hat to her. “Have a pleasant afternoon.”

  He moved on and Tess sighed with relief. Had he known what she was about, she was fairly certain he would not be wishing her a pleasant afternoon.

  * * *

  Vincent arrived at the back of the cemetery and looked out at the sea of tombstones. Percer was no where in sight. That didn’t mean he wasn’t hiding somewhere. But, Vincent had arrived an hour early, so perhaps Percer was not here yet.

  From this position he was t
oo far to be of any use to Tess. Even if he shot at Percer, he doubted his ability to strike his target. No, he had to move closer.

  Vincent looked over at the family crypt. It was only a few yards from Veronica’s grave. Could he make it there without being seen? Could he make it there without collapsing in pain? He didn’t have a choice.

  He glanced around. Hopkins emerged a few yards away and ran to the back of another crypt. This also put him close to Veronica’s grave. Wesley did the same to his right. This left Vincent as the only one who still cowered in the woods. The crypt lay two yards ahead and the earth between was blanketed in sunlight.

  Vincent took a deep breath and brought his cloak over his head. It was now or never. With his head down, trying to shield the light, he dashed from the trees to the side of the family crypt. The task practically brought him to his knees. No matter how much he tried to shield his eyes, it was impossible with the angle of the sun from the direction he was running. Percer must have counted on this.

  Sweat broke out on his brow and Vincent sank to the ground. He took deep breaths and willed the pain away. Once again he took a drink from the canteen Wesley had forced into his hands when they left the estate.

  The cool shade on this side of the crypt helped lessen his pain, but not enough that he didn’t want to vomit. These headaches always made him ill.

  After a few minutes he pulled himself from the ground. All he had to do was round the corner and duck inside. He knew the door had not been fixed and he counted on easy access into the structure. Vincent took another deep drink, followed by a deep breath and bolted to the front and inside the door. He collapsed once again against the wall and slid to the floor.