by Janet Woods
He had no idea how untruthful her position was, and it was not of his doing. ‘There’s no need to apologize, Saville; I’m enjoying the adventure of it.’
He laughed. ‘Be off with you. I have bookwork to attend too, and you’re a distraction.’
‘I’m going to visit Ebony.’
He nodded. ‘Keep Rebel with you.’
‘He’ll probably persuade me to take him for a walk.’
‘Wear a warm cloak and boots, then,’ he said, advice which was followed by his final instruction, ‘And don’t stay out too long.’
‘Yes, My Lord,’ she muttered as she left.
A smiled crept across Saville’s face when the door closed and he blew a kiss after her.
Chapter Seven
The sky was low and dense, the earth so meltingly white that the sharp edges of the landscape had been blunted. Where earth and sky met on the horizon they merged into one. The sky was low, pressing down on her, so Graine felt as if she was layered between that and the earth.
Dancer greeted her with a flirt of eyelashes and a delicate pawing of her forelegs, as if she was showing off her dancing skills. Her mother watched carefully when Graine edged closer to stroke the filly’s velvety muzzle, moving between them when she felt enough attention had been afforded her offspring.
Thrusting her hand into her pocket, Graine brought out a twist of paper containing some sugar and, sprinkling some on her hand, held it out to the mare. The mare’s nostrils twitched as she slowly stretched out her neck to nuzzle at her palm.
‘You’re a lovely creature,’ Graine told her with a smile. ‘However, I haven’t come to visit you. I’m here to make Ebony’s acquaintance. Your master said I should visit her often, so she will become familiar with my smell. Though how I shall learn to ride her if I’m married to John Lamartine and living in London, I do not know.’
From the adjoining stall, Ebony gave an impatient snort.
Concealed in the trees beyond the lake, William Younger watched through his spyglass as Graine emerge from the stables.
‘She has the dog with her,’ he muttered. ‘But she’s unaccompanied and on foot.’
Thomas drew a pistol from under his coat.
William gave him a scathing look. ‘Don’t be a fool. One shot will bring the entire household down on us. He took a bosuns’ whistle from his jacket. ‘I’ll draw off the dog, whilst you talk to the girl. Don’t be too rough. Just put the fear of God into her.’
‘She’s a pretty little piece of baggage,’ Thomas said almost absently.
‘Aye. She could make a man forget he had a wife waiting at home.’
Thomas grinned. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time you’d forgotten that, you horny old goat.’
William gave a soft cackle. ‘What your stepmother doesn’t know about, doesn’t bother her. Besides, when a man’s been at sea for a spell, it’s only natural to sail his ship into the first port available to him.’
‘Not in this weather, it ain’t. Besides, yon maid’s little harbor hasn’t opened for business yet, if you ask me. She looks as innocent as a lamb.’
‘Looks are deceiving. She might still be intact, but she’s a devious little minx. You can break her in when she’s used to dancing to our tune.’ He moved towards his horse. ‘Make sure she understands what’s at stake, Tom. I’ll meet you over by the road.’
Thomas trained the spyglass on the girl again and swore. Snow had begun to drift from the sky. She was three-quarters of the way around the lake now. She stopped to gaze up at the sky, then poking out her tongue allowed a few flakes to settle on it and melt.
Only a child would do that, Thomas thought sourly. Then he remembered her pert breasts and tiny waist. He grinned. He liked them small and feisty.
He looked for the dog. It was a little way behind her, lifting its leg at every clump of grass. Thomas heard his father signal to the animal. The whistle sounded like a bird’s fluting call. The dog stopped, and his ears pricked up. Suddenly, he headed off across the ice on the lake. The girl didn’t even notice. Head down, she kept on coming towards him.
Reaching up, he plucked an icicle from a branch. He sucked it for a few moments, so the vapor of his breath disappeared and wouldn’t give him away.
* * * *
Graine’s feet were beginning to numb. She pulled her cloak around her, holding it across her chest. I’ll walk to the trees then turn back, she told herself, gazing around her for Rebel. She could him barking, somewhere in the distance.
The snowflakes had become larger, the fall heavier. Behind her, her footprints were almost obliterated. The snow settled on her shoulders in a powdery layer and muffled the sound of the barking, so she couldn’t quite tell from which direction the noise was coming.
Reaching the trees, she was about to call Rebel to her side when an arm snaked around her from behind.
Graine’s yelp of fright was muffled by a hand clamped over her mouth. An automatic jerk of her leg and her heel connected with a knee. A grunt was followed by a curse. Her teeth sank into the hand and the next moment she was sent sprawling on to her back. A foot came down on her waist. It heeled her into the earth and forced most of the breath from her body so she couldn’t shout for Rebel.
‘You,’ she squeaked at the sight of Thomas Younger. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
He smiled. ‘Not what I’d like to do, believe me.’ The foot was removed. He pulled her upright and back against his body; his fingers exerted pressure against her windpipe. ‘Don’t try and call the dog else I’ll break your devious little neck.’
Over the thump of her own heart Graine could hear his as it pulsed against her back. She wished it would stop. Why had he lain in wait for her? What did he want?
‘The earl will kill you when he hears of this,’ she threatened.
His voice was a sibilant hiss against her ear. ‘Only if he believes you; and once he discovers what a lying little bitch you are he isn’t likely to, is he?’
‘I don’t know what you mean?’
‘You know exactly what I mean.’ His free hand found its way under her cloak to close around the brooch at her bosom. There was a ripping sound as he tore it away. He held it before her eyes. ‘Seth Adams gave this to his whore, Blanche Seaton. My father was with him when he had it made. You’re not Evelyn Adams. You’re Blanche Seaton’s bastard.’
Graine muttered. ‘The Seaton girl was my companion and she lent me the brooch. I was wearing it when the ship went down.‘
His laughter was loathsome. ‘You’re a liar, girl. My father visited Evelyn Adams to try and arrange a marriage between us. You’re not the girl he saw.’
‘You cannot prove that.’
‘We wouldn’t have to. The rumor would be enough for you to be sent packing.’
‘Then I’d have nothing and wouldn’t be worth pursuing, would I.’ The snowfall was heavier now; Graine could almost hear its soft thud as it quickly coated the ground.
‘Now you’re thinking.’
She was ahead of him, but her relaxed muscles did nothing to give her away. ‘How much do you want?’
His hold on her slackened. ‘One thousand guineas to start with, and one thousand the next time I’m in port.’
She laughed. ‘You’re crazy. The earl has control over my money.’
‘If he discovers that you’re impersonating Evelyn Adams you won’t have any money for him to control. He’ll throw you out into the snow.’
The horse behind him stamped and whickered under the shelter of a pine tree as she glared at him. ‘He won’t believe you, and if I tell him you tried to blackmail me he’ll slit your lying throat.’
‘But he’ll investigate the claim and discover the truth, for he’s a magistrate and that’s his nature. You’ll be charged and sent to goal.’
Glaring at him she held out her hand and ordered. ‘Give me back my brooch or it’s you who’ll be imprisoned.’
He dangled it between his thumb and forefinger. ‘I’ll excha
nge it for the first payment. I’ll be back in two weeks for it. His dark eyes scrutinized her face and his breath quickened. ‘By hell and fury, why am I bothering. I’ll just take you for a wife, that way I can have you as well.’
‘I wouldn’t wed a scab like you if you were the last man left alive,’ she yelled, hoping the dog would hear her.
‘I could arrange it so you’d have to wed me. Let’s see if you take after the whore who gave birth to you.’ Suddenly she was pulled against him and his mouth crushed against hers. Skin crawling she sank her teeth into his lip in a savage bite. Blood spurted; her brooch fell into the snow and was trodden underfoot. He tripped backwards over a log and sprawled on his back.
She laughed, but not for long, for he sprang to his feet.
‘You bitch! Now you’re going to get what you’re asking for.’
When he slapped her she staggered backwards with the force of it. Instead of trying to run, she sprang back at him, her fingers hooked to rake down his face. The unexpected attack threw him off guard and the punch he threw, which would have caused her considerable damage had it landed, went wide.
Before he could retaliate, she turned and ran, screaming out for Rebel. Relief filled her when she heard him give an answering bark. As she fled, Thomas Younger cried out with pain.
She glanced back to see Rebel upon him in a flurry of ferocious snarls and bites that sent the man staggering backwards. William Younger ran from the trees and leveled his pistol at the dog.
* * * *
Saville stared through the window at the whirling snowfall. He could barely see the trees at other side of the lake. The visibility was closing in faster than he’d expected. He was worried as he gazed at the clock ticking on the mantel. He turned to Jessie.
‘How long has Miss Adams been gone?’
‘Two hours, My Lord. She said she was going round the lake.’
‘And Rebel?’
‘He hasn’t returned either.’
Saville experienced a moment of relief. At least the dog was still with her. Would she have gone into the caves? No, the door to the outbuilding was locked now, and she was aware of the dangers. Evelyn might be unworldly for her age, but she certainly wasn’t stupid, however much to the contrary her guardian had suggested.’
There was the sound of a muffled shot. Poachers? No, they’d know better than try for game in this weather. A feeling of unease settled on him.
‘I’d better go and look for her. If the snowfall thickens she might become disorientated. Tell Jackson to bring me my cloak and hat please, Jessie.’
Not long after Jessie left he heard a faint bark. He crossed to the window again, in time to see Evelyn running pell-mell on to the ice. Rebel was chasing after her.
‘No!’ he shouted out in some alarm, even knowing she couldn’t hear him. ‘Fetch help,’ he yelled to the astonished manservant who’d appeared, and within seconds had pushed past him to charge at top speed towards the lake.
He heard crack before he reached the lake’s edge, saw the ice star outwards from the middle and heard Evelyn give a terrified scream before she slid into the dark patch of water.
For a moment her fingers scrabbled at the shifting ice, then she was gone, leaving just a dark patch of water. Rebel slipped and scrabbled around, barking furiously at the hole as he tried to understand where she’d suddenly gone. Saville’s marrow chilled in his bones.
* * * *
Beneath the surface of the water Graine struggled for her life. It was cold, and so terribly dark. The fresh water pulled her down, whereas, the seawater had pushed her up. That was frightening. It took her a moment or two to realize her skirt had floated up over her head. She tried to kick herself upwards, but her sodden cloak and skirt wrapped around her legs and dragged her down.
She managed to reach the clasp and the cloak floated free. The skirt of her gown was another matter. It clung against her body, and her fingers were too numb to undo the ties. Was she destined to drown, after all? Had she cheated death in the ocean only to be pursued by the grim reaper to this very spot?
Everything about her ached as she floated in the murky half light. As the warmth leached from her body so did her breath, bubbling out bit by bit until she could hold it inside no more. It left her suddenly, with a noisy swoosh of sound. Her ears popped. Faintly, she heard Rebel barking.
She opened her mouth to say some comforting words to him and water rushed in. Her throat seemed to swell, as if determined to keep it out. Her heart boomed in her chest, fluttered frantically. She reached up, only to touch a cold mirror of ice. She struggled for a few moments, then a great lassitude crept over her and she began to sink slowly into the depths. No longer cold, she thought; I’ll rest for just a few moments …
‘Got her!’ Saville yelled as his hands closed around some fabric. But when he hauled it to the surface it was only her cloak. If her cloak had floated to the surface she must be beneath it, he reasoned. Ignoring Edmund’s warning, he dragged in some air and made his next dive deeper. His groping hand closed around something that felt like rope. Chest bursting, he hauled it to the surface.
Hair! He had her hair in his fist. Her head broke free of the water and she bobbed upwards, her breasts pale moons above her pink gown. How pale she was. How relaxed. Her petticoats were spread about her like the sodden petals of a rose and her hair was a dark, water-slicked centre of stamens.
Amber eyes open, she gazed at him with infinite and unseeing intensity from narrowed pupils. Her eyelashes were spiked and trembled with droplets. Blue ringed, her lips were set slightly apart, the corners set upwards so she wore a tiny smile.
‘Dear God, don’t let me be too late!’ he almost sobbed, and signaled to Edmund. The rope around his middle tightened. Gradually, he was dragged with his burden across the ice to be received by a bank of reeds, stiffened with frost and razor tipped with ice. He lay there, gasping, whilst Edmund wrapped his cloak around her.
When his breathing gained a comfortable pace Saville pushed Edmund aside and knelt over her limp body. Ear to her mouth, he realized she’d stopped breathing. He applied pressure to her stomach. ‘Eve, my angel … breathe for me, for God’s sake!’
‘I think Miss Adams is dead, sir,’ Edmund said slowly.
‘No … no! Death cannot have her. I will not permit her to come into my life, then have her snatched from me. I won’t have it, d’you hear? Let’s get her back to the house and warm her.’
He picked her up in his arms and staggered off towards the house, his strength almost spent, refusing to believe what his instincts told him. Her head lolled to one side and water trickled from her mouth with his uneven gait. Then unbelievingly, she swooped in a painful, rattling breath and began to cough.
Thank God! Thank God! Saville fell to his knees, holding her head whilst she involuntarily relieved her stomach of the water she’d swallowed. When she was comfortable he wiped her face and brought her up against his shoulder, where he rocked her back and forth, pressing kisses against her cold, pale face and murmuring, ‘My dearest one, my love. You’re alive.’
She made a little murmur of protest. ‘I’m so cold and tired.’
‘We must get her to bed, My Lord.’
Tears ran down his cheeks when he gazed up at Edmund, but he didn’t care. ‘I thought I’d lost her, Edmund.’
‘I know, My Lord. But now you must regain control of yourself. Let me carry Miss Adams the rest of the way. We must get you inside where it’s warm, because your strength is nearly spent. But Saville couldn’t bear to hand her over. He managed to push himself upright and draw on a final reserve.
The servants had come out to meet them, all babbling. Amidst mixed exclamations of horror and congratulations they were half-pushed, half-carried inside, where Saville collapsed onto the nearest seat.
Relieved of his sweet burden, he watched anxiously as she was borne away in a blanket held by some half-a-dozen chattering maids. A dejected Rebel trailed after them.
Jessie bossi
ly shot instructions to them on the way up the stairs. ‘Mind the newel post, you silly geese. Lift her head higher, Mary Tapley. What’s the matter with you, girl, you’re all of a pucker? I’d pack you off to the hiring fair come February, except you haven’t got enough wit to sell a pennyworth of firewood for a living.’
‘When I saw that magpie in the chimney, all alone, I told you it would bring bad luck down upon the house,’ Mary answered back.
‘You be fair mazed, girl,’ Jessie scoffed. ‘That’d be a year back, and the steward broke his arm shortly after. Wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t encouraged the thing, always feeding it and such. A fat lot of good trying to tame it did. The kitchen cat made a good meal of it and that was bad luck on the magpie, if you ask me. Hey, you! Dog. Don’t think you’re going to sneak in here all cozy like. Go and find your master, and be quick about it!’
Saville managed a weak grin as Rebel came slinking back down, his ears flattened and his tail hanging between his legs. There were traces of blood on his snout, but a cursory examination revealed no wound. He must have caught a rat. The women’s voices faded away.
Saville was shivering uncontrollably, despite the fact that someone had draped a blanket around his shoulders. Edmund thrust a glass of neat brandy into his hands. ‘She’s in good hands now, sir. Drink that, then you must change into dry clothes, rest, and warm yourself.’
‘Sometimes you fuss like an old hen, Edmund. There’s enough liquor in this glass to fell a cart horse.’
Edmund chuckled. ‘Nonsense. Your father could down twice the amount in one gulp.’
‘I’m not about to compete with him.’ Teeth chattering against the glass, Saville swallowed half of the brandy and grimaced at the fiery sting of the liquid. He handed the glass back to his steward. ‘The rest is yours, Edmund. I’m off to bathe and change. I want to know the very minute Miss Adams is ready to receive visitors.’
