Silence.
“If you’re a ghost, I don’t mind. Really,” she said, her shaky voice belying her words. In her panicked irrational state she considered anyone was welcome. And a ghost might scare Ramsey away.
Chapter Four
While Marcus fought his impatience, he slowed Zeus to a walk to rest the animal. Twickenham was still some miles away across the river. He’d begun to question whether he should have taken the time to wake his coachman and have the horses harnessed to the curricle. He had saved an hour or two, passing through the toll gate speedily, but would the decision prove unwise? The temperature had dropped. To the east the dark clouds on the horizon drew closer driven by the wind. A flash of lightening lit the sky. Glad of his warm greatcoat, he urged Zeus into a gallop.
Some twenty minutes later, and a few miles farther on, the clouds were overhead, hiding the moon. The wind picked up lashing branches and scattering leaves in a swirl over the road. Then the rain came down, a heavy stinging downpour which blanked out the way ahead.
Marcus would have to find shelter, and keeping an eye out, continued at snail’s pace. With a growl of frustration he rode Zeus along the road through dark, dripping woodland. It would be impossible to find Ramsey’s house if the rain continued with this ferocity. Another flash of lightning, too close for comfort, arched across the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder overhead. A tree close to the road burst into flames which were extinguished with a hiss. Zeus whinnied and reared in fear almost unseating him.
“It’s all right, boy.” Marcus clung on. He patted the horse’s neck and spoke softly to him, settling him. Not wise to shelter under a tree, it seemed, as another bolt of lightning flashed in the charged air around them.
The downpour eased off a little as they emerged from the trees. Houses appeared. Candlelight shining from cottage windows allowed him to gain his bearings and see the road ahead. Farther on, more houses and the village shops came into view. The rain increased again, and Marcus was forced to ride his nervous stallion beneath a shop’s canopied awning. He dismounted and held the bridle as the storm returned with full force to lash the streets and send a river of water over the road. Frustration tightened Marcus’ gut. He feared he’d fail to reach Ramsey’s house before daylight. What if he’d guessed wrong, and Beth wasn’t there?
Out in the darkness, lightning flashed. Rain beat fiercely against the leaded windowpanes, and the storm closed in around the house as if sealing Beth off from the rest of the world. She examined the wedding gown. The style was the last century’s, with fuller skirts than today’s fashions. The white satin had yellowed slightly, the lace gathered at the elbows had become limp, and there were threads caught in the fragile net veil. “Which bride wore this?” she murmured to the empty room. Beth trembled while a deep sense of foreboding filled her. She turned slowly listening for any movement beyond the crackle of the fire and the loud beating of her heart.
The tiniest sound like a sharp intake of breath made Beth spin around. She tried to locate the direction from which it came, swallowing to moisten her dry throat. “I know you are here somewhere.” She roamed along the length of wainscoting, her voice faint and indecisive. She cleared her throat again. “Where are you?” she demanded. “Show yourself. I shall find you.” That sounded better. With the fervent hope it was not a ghost she sought, Beth slid her hands over the dusty oak panels. She trailed her fingers along the decorative frieze at the top over the carved acorns and leaves. Might there be a hiding place concealed here somewhere?
At her prodding, a panel slid silently back. With a loud gasp, Beth’s gaze settled first on the white dress in the gloom, then rose to a face stricken with as much fear as Beth felt herself.
“Who are you?” Beth asked, finally, hot with relief at finding a flesh and blood person.
The girl who looked no more than fifteen or so, bobbed in a ludicrous curtsey. “Lilly, miss. I be the maid ’ere.”
Of course. The fires, the hot water. Ramsey would hardly do all that himself. Beth was so pleased to see her she wanted to throw her arms around her. Instead, she forced a smile and took hold of Lilly’s trembling hand. She drew her into the room. The maid was pretty, with dark curly hair beneath her cap, her gray eyes filled with tears.
“Oh miss, please don’t tell the master. ’e’ll be ever so angry. I’m not supposed to show meself.”
“You have nothing to fear from me, Lilly. I hate him. I won’t tell him a thing.” Beth peered into the horrid dark space where a curtain of cobwebs swung from the low ceiling. The strong smell of mice and the dust of ages seeped out. She peered through the gloom to see wooden steps leading down. Her pulse raced at the hope of escape. “Where do those steps go?”
“The staff stairs, miss, for the servants to tend to guests in the drawing and dining rooms. Leads down to the kitchen, cellars, and the butler’s pantry. Have to go carefully, the treads be rotten.”
“Never mind that. I can escape through the kitchen door into the gardens. He’ll never know you helped me.”
“Can’t. Keeps it all locked he does, miss.”
Beth almost crumpled with disappointment.
Lilly sent an anxious glance to the door. “I should go, miss. “’is lordship will be wantin’ ’is supper.”
Beth grabbed her arm. “No! Wait, please Lilly. I need your help. I am held here against my will.”
Lilly nodded. “A villain is ’is lordship, miss. Never known the like.”
Beth stared at the frightened girl. “What has he done?”
“Aw, I cannot tell ye. ’E’ll be along soon and mustna find me here.”
“Did he ask you to lay out that wedding gown? Why?”
Lilly nodded. “’E don’t tell me ’is plans, miss.”
“Unlock the bedchamber door, Lilly,” Beth said sternly, she suspected the girl did know. “I’ll slip away. You can come with me if you wish.”
“I cannot!” The maid paled and shook her head. “I don’t have the key.”
Lilly must have the key. Beth eyed the small slim girl. She could wrestle it from her. Was it possible to escape the house before he came after her? She didn’t want to leave the maid to Ramsey’s wrath. If he lay in wait for her, they’d both be in trouble. “Please, Lilly. Won’t you help me?”
Lilly cast a frightened glance at the door. “’E’ll know it’s me who let you go, miss. I’ll lose me job ’ere. That is, if ’e don’t kill me first.”
“We’ll escape together. My brother-in-law, the Duke of Harrow will help you. You can join the staff at one of his estates. Would you like that?” Jenny would see it was done.
“A duke?” Lilly’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t be foolin’ me, miss? That would be cruel.”
“No, I mean it, Lilly, every word,” Beth said impatiently. Ramsey would appear at any moment. “Your master is in very serious trouble. He will be thrown into prison. And then you’ll have to leave here.” Beth shook the girl’s arm. “Unlock the door, quickly! We must leave now.”
Lilly gasped. She dug into her pocket.
The jangle of a key in the lock startled them. Lilly was gone in a flash and the panel closed silently behind her sealing off the passageway.
Alone again, Beth only had time to whirl around as Ramsey stalked through the door. She straightened her shoulders ready to fight him with every ounce of her strength. While she wouldn’t give the maid away, just knowing Lilly was there gave her a small measure of comfort.
“Shall we dine?” He held out his arm to her ever the polite gentleman.
Beth bit her lip to stop from berating him. She was eager to leave this bedchamber and decided to play along, put him off guard. “Yes, indeed. I’m hungry. I missed supper at the ball.”
“You’ve seen sense. Good.” He tucked her hand firmly into his arm and walked with her to the staircase.
She observed the oak beamed ceiling and the ancient iron sconces on the walls. Some old houses had priest holes too, to hide the Catholics from C
romwell’s Roundheads. “How old is this house?”
“Seventeenth century,” he said curtly as they descended. “If you’re so interested you might ask the ghosts.”
“I haven’t come across any.”
“Give it time.” He seemed really to believe it.
“Have you seen them?”
“No.” She felt him shudder.
On the floor below, he opened the drawing room door and pushed her roughly inside. He’d already forgotten his manners.
“Who wore the wedding gown?” she asked seeing no point in humoring him.
His mouth thinned. “Baroness Ramsey.”
“Your mother or your wife?”
“Questions, questions. My, but you are a tiresome girl.” He strolled through the room. “We’ll play faro after we dine.”
“What if I beat you? How can I trust you to keep your word? To let me go without…?” Words failed her. She glared at him. “You are an utter scoundrel.”
He took her shoulders in his hands, pulling her hard against him. Her frightened breath drew in the strong smell of spirits. His eyes were suddenly dark with rage. Horrified, she tried to pull back, but his fingers sank painfully into her flesh. “You have no choice, do you? And I don’t see that it matters, for you won’t beat me.”
“You can’t be sure of that.” Beth put both hands against his chest and pushed. Perhaps her effrontery surprised him, for he let her go. She stepped away rubbing a sore spot on her shoulder to rid it of his touch. “I might win. Then you must keep your promise.”
“Promises!” He tossed back his head and laughed. How changeable were his emotions. What drove him? Was there any method in what he did? Was it a lust for power, revenge, or something even worse she couldn’t give name to? Or else, the man was mad. The thought sent a ripple of fear through her. “Why choose me?” She needed to know more, otherwise how could she fight him?
“Be quiet. You will spoil my appetite.”
“Is there really any dinner? Have you conjured the food up by magic?”
“An obliging ghost.” He gave another chuckle. “Come and you shall see.” Ramsey opened the double doors she’d wanted to investigate. They entered another gloomy chamber, the lower part of the walls featured more of the dusty oak panels, with peeling wallpaper which was once white on the walls above. The windows were hung with faded crimson damask. More of the heavy furniture crowded the room, as well as portraits darkened with age. The long narrow table had been laid with a cloth, plates, glassware, and silverware, and their supper.
Lilly had been here. When had she brought the food? A short candle warmed the soup in a chaffing dish; the rest of the meal was cold: a plate of roasted chicken, a bowl of salad, Stilton cheese, and rye bread.
The maid had said the stairs led from the bedchamber to the kitchen. If Beth could discover the secret door, she could find somewhere to hide. Ramsey must sleep eventually, as he was drinking heavily.
She glanced at him. He didn’t look sleepy. His shoulders were hunched, and he looked tense. She would have to be careful. He must not see her search for the door.
He pulled out a tall-backed Jacobean chair upholstered in crimson brocade for her. “Not what you would expect at the duke’s table, but be grateful for it.”
Beth sat. She had been hungry, but her stomach roiled at the thought of eating any food of his.
Ramsey sat at the head of the table and poured red wine from a carafe into goblets, then placed one before her.
She made no move to begin.
“Eat!”
Beth picked up the ladle and spooned fragrant cauliflower soup into her bowl. She took up her spoon, while she considered throwing the soup in his face. It wasn’t hot enough to scald him and would only make him angrier.
She drank a mouthful of soup. It was delicately flavored. If Lilly had made it, she was a capable cook. Beth had so many questions, but remained quiet. Ramsey wouldn’t welcome them, and as it was, she felt sick with anxiety. She forced herself to spoon soup into her mouth. Was Lilly still in the house? Did she live in? It distressed Beth to consider the maid might have gone home and left her to her fate. She put down her spoon, the bowl still half-full.
Ramsey eyed her irritably while his jaw worked at a piece of chicken.
She sipped the wine, needing time to think. To remember what her brother, Colin had taught her about faro before he joined the Navy.
Ramsey reached over and put a piece of chicken on her plate, then pushed it toward her. “Eat your dinner.”
Why did he care if she ate or not? Beth reached for the bread.
“I don’t want you falling asleep,” he explained. “It will be a paltry game of faro as it is.”
Was it the card game he really referred to? Beth batted that thought away with horror as she buttered the bread. She might not win, for he would be a skillful player, but she’d give him a good run. If only she knew why he wished to play cards, but she wasn’t about to distract him from his purpose.
Outside, another loud clap of thunder rumbled in the sky making her aware that if anyone rushed to her aid their carriage would be held up. They would be unable to cross flooded bridges, or their wheels would be stuck deep in the mud. But as Ramsey had stated, no one knew she was here.
Only Lilly.
Where was the maid? Would she come to clear the table? Beth gave a quick glance around the room again, searching for a faint outline in the wall which might give way to a hidden door, but deep shadows made that impossible. Only a single candelabra graced the table.
“How did you know about William’s accident?” she asked Ramsey.
“There was no accident.” He smiled, pleased with himself. “I sent the letter with a courier.”
“You sent it?” Beth stared at him revolted by his self-satisfied face. “But how could you be sure the duke and duchess would leave London?”
“And not react to a letter from their doctor? It was a gamble but I’m a gambling man. I had to make sure the message was alarming enough to force them to return to Castlebridge, post haste. But not serious enough to take you along with them. And I anticipated correctly, as it turned out, for you remained to continue with your engagements. You all played into my hands perfectly.”
“As soon as they learned the truth at Castlebridge, they would return to London and would now be searching for me.”
“Where would they look? No one knows you’re here with me. And should they by some remote chance learn of it, few know I inherited this house. Failing to find you at my townhouse, they would go off on a wild goose chase to my country seat. And there they will find nothing.”
“The duke will catch up with you, eventually. How do you plan to evade him?”
His face became shuttered. “None of your concern.”
“At least tell me what this is about.”
“You don’t think it’s because I want you?” he asked licking at a piece of chicken on his lips.
Revolted, she looked away. “No, I don’t.”
He chuckled. “Don’t be so sure. I’m enjoying your company.”
She would not have to endure him for much longer, she told herself desperately. He said he would let her go in the morning. But would he? Or would he kill her?
Beth sagged in her chair. William wasn’t hurt. Once Andrew discovered the truth, he would return immediately to the ball. But by the time he reached Mayfair, that would long be over. And Mrs. Grayshott, even if roused from her bed, could tell him nothing.
Chapter Five
As Marcus waited impatiently for the storm to ease, he considered Ramsey’s possible motive. He’d taken an enormous risk which could hardly have a good ending. Was he driven by uncontrollable passion? Marcus had known such men, like moths flying too close to the flame. Inevitably, they were burned. But what he knew of Ramsey seemed at odds with a man of unruly passions. Apart from the amiable persona he presented in drawing rooms, he appeared to be a rather cold and sharp-eyed fellow when Marcus had come across him
playing cards at his club. Nor did Beth seem the sort of young woman who would fall under his spell and turn her back on everything she held dear. Not with such a loving family as hers.
Could Ramsey have abducted her by force? Impossible to do so under the eyes of the ton. She had gone with him willingly enough, although not entirely happily by the groom’s account.
Another crack of thunder rent the sky. Marcus leaned back against the shop wall and slapped the water from his hat. He racked his brain for some whisper of gossip he might have heard in the past. He tended to ignore most society gossip. The intrigue he faced while working for the foreign office was enough for him to deal with.
Ramsey was not known to be a man of good character. His financial trouble was common knowledge brought about by his gambling, his baronetcy, a castle in the north overlooking the Irish Sea, falling into ruin. It appeared he’d kept himself afloat playing dice in gambling hells, and spent some years on the Continent where Marcus had run into him, as had Andrew.
Might money lie behind this desperate plan? Did he intend to hold Beth’s reputation to ransom? He doubted Andrew would be so obliging, but if he did pay up, Ramsey would be foolish to believe the matter would end there. He’d be forced to leave England or be clapped in irons.
As much as Marcus tried, he still failed to come up with any reasonable explanation for the baron’s behavior. Had Andrew refused their marriage? Had that sent them rushing to the border to tie the knot in Gretna Green? He groaned. If that was the case he should be riding for Oxfordshire instead, to warn Andrew. It hardly seemed likely. Andrew had asked Marcus to take care of her at the ball when he couldn’t do so himself.
No, he couldn’t find it in himself to believe a runaway marriage was taking place. Beth had seemed too smart to be taken in by such a man. She wasn’t a flirtatious young ninny like some debutantes. Dammit, he’d liked her and sensed something special about her that greatly appealed to him, which was the main reason he was here waiting in the damp and cold, exasperated beyond endurance. He eased his tight shoulders as Zeus swished his tail and pricked up his ears, impatient to be heading back to his warm stall. Marcus shivered in his riding coat and rubbed his arms. He’d thrown his greatcoat over the horse. It was his fault after all that they were here in the cold while the endless rain and the lightning storm continued to hover overhead.
The Midnight Hour: All-Hallows’ Brides Page 40
