Rivals of Fortune / The Impetuous Heiress

by Jane Ashford

  “I didn’t!” the boy hissed indignantly. “She brought herself.”

  Joanna added, “He could not stop me. I wanted to join the adventure. It is not fair to keep me out.” Her face felt hot as she remembered their previous conversation.

  “You must go home,” replied Erland.

  “I won’t. If Frederick is allowed to be here, so am I.” Joanna met his eyes defiantly. “I must watch him.”

  Frederick made a disgusted noise.

  “I don’t think you should have asked Frederick to come in any case,” added the girl, pressing her point. “If there is some danger, he could be hurt.”

  His eyes twinkling appreciatively, Erland said, “I do not anticipate any danger, but I would still rather you went home.”

  Joanna crossed her arms over her breast and set her jaw.

  Ignoring her, Frederick leaned forward and whispered, “Did you do it?”

  Erland nodded, and before Joanna could ask about this cryptic exchange, murmured, “Listen!”

  The others fell silent immediately. They strained their ears, and faint sounds of horses came across the grass.

  Erland laid a hand on each of their shoulders and sank down on a rock behind them. Leaning forward, he could watch also, his head just between the two of theirs. “He’s coming,” he whispered very low.

  Joanna trembled with excitement at the thought. They would actually watch the intruder at his work.

  They waited; the sounds of horses came closer. There was more than one. Frederick opened his mouth to speak, but Erland put a hand over it and shook his head warningly.

  An instant later, they saw the intruders. Two men emerged from the tumbled rocks at the left and moved toward the pavement. They were leading their mounts. The first was a burly individual in a frieze overcoat. He had a coil of rope over his shoulder and a shapeless hat pulled over his face. Joanna did not think she had ever seen him before, but it was hard to tell in the dim light. She looked toward the other man, and at that moment, the moon came from behind a cloud. Joanna gasped. The second man was Sir Rollin Denby! Erland pressed her shoulder hard.

  Numb with surprise, Joanna watched the two make their way to the propped-up paving stone and begin to secure the rope around it. This took some time, as the rope had to be worked through narrow cracks. She couldn’t move; she could only stare. Was it really Sir Rollin? She couldn’t believe it; yet, there he was. How could he do such a despicable thing?

  Though Joanna had decided that Denby was perhaps not all she had thought him in the beginning, she had never expected him to do anything so wrong or dishonorable. Mutely, Joanna turned around to Erland. He met her eyes solemnly, sympathy in his own. He shook his head very slightly. Joanna turned back to the scene before them.

  The two men knotted the rope around the rock. They did not speak; clearly, they had made their plan in advance. When the rope was secure, the burly man took the free end and went to the two horses; he began to tie it around one of the saddles.

  Joanna watched him knot it, try it with a sharp tug, then go on to Denby’s raw-boned hunter and repeat the process. In a few moments, the rope was secured to both saddles, the horses connected as if they were a team. The burly man went back to Denby, who was making adjustments to a dark lantern he had set on the ground near the stone. He tapped Denby’s shoulder and gestured toward the horses; Denby nodded. He rose, picked up a large timber lying nearby, then nodded again. The other went to the horses’ heads and urged them forward.

  The rope stretched taut. The animals strained visibly. At first, Joanna thought that they would not be able to move the stone, but after a moment, it started to rise, first slowly then with a rush. Frederick took a deep breath, whether of chagrin or satisfaction Joanna could not tell.

  Sir Rollin pushed the timber into the newly opened aperture. The hole was now at least three feet wide. He waved to the other man, who let the horses slack off. The timber held.

  Denby examined it quickly, striking it once to make sure it would not slip, then he picked up the dark lantern and held it down into the hole. There was a thin rope tied around the handle, and as he paid it out, it became obvious that there was a space open under the stone. The burly man came over to peer down just as Denby stopped letting out rope. “I may be a few minutes,” whispered Denby, and he disappeared through the opening.

  The next few minutes were among the longest Joanna could remember. She had to remain perfectly still and quiet, for the burly man looked around watchfully, but she was nearly bursting with the need to talk. What did Erland mean to do? When would he descend on the thieves? Did he have constables waiting somewhere to leap out? Neither of her companions made a sign. They merely stared at the hole where Denby had disappeared. What would happen when he came back?

  After what seemed an eternity, the light of the lantern shone up through the opening once more. She heard a shrill whistle, and the burly man knelt and leaned down, extending his arms. In another moment, he straightened, holding a metal box about eighteen inches square. He heaved it up and set it on the ground beside him. Joanna turned to stare wide-eyed at Erland. But he did not look at her, and she followed his gaze back to the scene. The man was now hauling up the lantern, and in another moment, Denby was vaulting out of the hole, pulling himself up with his arms. The other man helped him climb out and to his feet, then strode quickly to the horses, loosening the rope about their saddles. Denby bent and picked up the box, carrying it to the now unencumbered mounts. He held it before the pommel of his saddle and swung up.

  Joanna turned again, desperately. They were getting away with the treasure. Would Erland do nothing to stop them? He met her eyes, smiled reassuringly, and pressed down on her shoulder. Surely he had some plan? She turned back.

  Both men were mounted now, and they moved off among the rocks. She watched until they were out of sight, then, unable to wait any longer, said, “You are not letting them get away? Is someone waiting at the gate? What are we going to do?”

  “Shhh,” hissed Frederick. “They might hear.”

  “They might hear!” She turned desperately to Erland. “Won’t you go after them? They have your treasure!”

  “There’s no need,” put in Frederick. “We…”

  “No need?” exploded Joanna. “Why you…you dunce! Don’t you understand how important this is to Mr. Erland? Don’t you understand anything?”

  Erland started to speak, but Frederick forestalled him. “Oh, I’m a dunce, am I? Well, it happens that I know quite a bit more about things than you, Joanna. We…”

  “You don’t know anything, either of you,” retorted the overwrought girl. “All this watching and waiting, and now you have let them walk off with the chest without lifting a finger.” And she burst into tears.

  “Joanna…Miss Rowntree,” said Erland.

  “Girls!” said Frederick disgustedly. “If we had, what good would crying do? But we didn’t. I told Mr. Erland where the treasure was, and he removed it this evening, before we came.”

  It took Joanna a moment to understand this statement. She went on crying, and Jonathan Erland took this opportunity to slip an arm around her and offer his shoulder as a headrest. In this comfortable position, she considered Frederick’s remarks. All at once, she straightened.

  “Removed it?” she cried. She looked accusingly to Erland. “You did?”

  Taken aback at the outrage in her eyes, he merely nodded.

  “And you did not tell me? You let me sit here, worrying, and did not tell me that there was no cause? How could you be so utterly unfeeling?”

  “There was no time…” began Erland.

  “And Frederick!” continued Joanna. “Frederick knew where it was, all this time? And he said nothing?” She stared at her brother accusingly. “I think you are both beasts.”

  Frederick squirmed a little under her gaze. “I was going to tell you,”
he said, “but then…”

  “Well do so. Now,” snapped his sister.

  The boy looked at her, then grinned. “Very well. You guessed some of it already. I spent today clearing out that secret passageway I found. There was a deuce of a lot of trash in it. It took hours. But when I’d emptied it, I found that it led out this way. In fact, it came to this very spot. I had suspected that it might. Mr. Erland’s Jacobite ancestors hid people under the old church.”

  “Very appropriate,” murmured Erland. Joanna frowned at him.

  “Well, I didn’t have enough time to look around after I’d hauled out all the stuff,” continued Frederick. “I wanted to go back after we pulled up that stone. That was when I came to tell Mr. Erland what I had found. He wouldn’t let me. He made this plan instead.”

  “‘This plan’ being that he would remove the treasure and then lie in wait for the thief?” asked Joanna.

  Frederick nodded. “A really bang-up idea. We had the money safe, but no one knew.”

  “Was there money in that chest? Before, I mean,” said the girl involuntarily.

  “No,” answered Erland. “Nor jewels, nor gold. It was very disappointing. There was only some papers, records of my uncle’s bank accounts and investments. Dull stuff.”

  “But is it a fortune?” blurted Joanna.

  He smiled down at her. “Oh, yes. Quite a large fortune.”

  Joanna suddenly became aware that she was nestled against her host. She drew back, pulling her cloak straight. “But what about them…Sir Rollin and that man? Oh, I can hardly believe it still. Aren’t you going to chase them?”

  “I have men posted around the walls,” said Erland. “I daresay, he is caught by now.”

  Joanna looked up at him. “Did you…did you expect Sir Rollin? Did you know it was he?”

  He shook his head. “I admit I disliked the man.” He smiled. “For a number of reasons, not least that he outshone me on every occasion. But I did not expect him tonight. It did seem odd to me that he hung about our excavations, but I concluded he was bored, or after some other quarry.” He laughed down at Joanna, who flushed.

  “He’s a blackguard,” put in Frederick. “Anyone could see that!”

  “Anyone?” Erland kept his eyes on Joanna.

  As he looked steadily at her, a sudden realization flooded Joanna. Sir Rollin had not even been flirting with her; he had simply cultivated her in order to get information about Jonathan Erland’s fortune and his progress in finding it. The whole of her relation with Sir Rollin flashed through her mind. He had begun to notice her after Thomas Erland’s letter was discovered, and each time they had been together, he had questioned her closely about the hunt. There had been nothing, nothing, in his flattery but a wish to keep abreast of all new developments. And she, like a fool, had proudly told him everything.

  Scarlet with shame, Joanna turned away. “I…I must go,” she choked out and started to stumble off through the wet grass.

  “Wait,” said Erland, “I’ll drive you.”

  “I c-can’t.” She met his eyes briefly, but she could not bear the tenderness she saw there. She had betrayed everything to a villain, and still he could look at her so! She turned and ran.

  “I love you, Joanna,” called Erland.

  She checked, a thrill going through her that took her breath away.

  “Why did you say that?” exclaimed Frederick disgustedly. “Come on, let’s go look at the stone.”

  Joanna heard Erland refuse and an argument begin, and she hurried on. She could not speak to him tonight. She had to think. Tomorrow would be soon enough to face him.

  Twenty-four

  Joanna woke the next morning with a headache. She had tossed and turned for hours before she slept, thinking of her mistakes with Sir Rollin Denby and accusing herself of foolishness over and over again. As the hours passed, she became more and more ashamed, and by the time she finally fell asleep, she was wondering how she could ever face Jonathan Erland again, with this new knowledge.

  She rose slowly and pulled on a dressing gown. Though she had fallen into bed very late, it was not yet eight. A glimpse of her face in the mirror made her groan: she looked heavy-eyed and tired, her dark curls limp.

  “Enough self-pity,” she told her reflection firmly. “If you have been a fool, that is no reason to continue to be one.”

  She washed vigorously and brushed her hair until her eyes watered. This in itself made her feel better, and she put on a delicate pink muslin gown that lent color to her cheeks. Determined to seem cheerful, she almost ran downstairs, causing her mother to look up in surprise as she erupted into the breakfast room and plopped into her chair.

  “Good morning, Joanna,” said Mrs. Rowntree.

  “Good morning, Mama. It is a lovely day.”

  It was indeed, sunny for the first time in a week. “It is,” agreed the older woman. “What has put you in such spirits?”

  “Why…why, today we discover the secret of the ruins,” answered the girl, adding pointedly, “don’t we, Frederick?”

  Her brother, opposite her, and doing full justice to a large plate of bacon and eggs, choked, mumbling something through a mouthful of food. Joanna smiled sweetly at him and poured herself a cup of tea. For his part, he avoided her eye and said nothing at all.

  Her father came in a few moments later. “Good morning, all,” he said as he sat down. “Today is our great day, is it not? We shall open the crypt this morning. And we have fine weather for it, too.”

  When the gig was brought around a bit later, there was no sign of Frederick, so Joanna and her father rode over to the Abbey alone. Gerald was to come straight from Oxford. Joanna said little; her mind was too busy. Besides, Mr. Rowntree was never a great conversationalist.

  They arrived in good time, and Jonathan Erland came out of the house to greet them. As he handed Joanna down from the gig, he said, “I must speak to you.” The look in his eyes made her tremble. She wished desperately to tell him how she felt.

  But Mr. Rowntree would brook no delay in their work, and he insisted that they all go out to the ruins at once. With a shrug and a rueful smile, Erland gave in. “Afterward,” he told Joanna.

  The state of their working place upset Mr. Rowntree acutely. At first, he thought that Erland had stolen a march on him and entered the crypt first, but when he was told that it had in fact been their thief, he demanded the rest of the tale.

  Erland obligingly told it, leaving Joanna and Frederick out of last night’s events.

  “Ha,” said Mr. Rowntree when he paused, “and so the fellow is laid by the heels? Serves him right, too. Pretending to be interested in our excavations.”

  Erland smiled a little, but he shook his head. “I fear not, sir. I had men posted, but he rode like the devil himself and got away from them.”

  “Got away!” exclaimed Joanna involuntarily.

  “Outrageous,” agreed her father. “Send after him.”

  “They gave chase, but I fear they failed once more.”

  “Incompetence,” snorted Rowntree. “The world is being overrun with it these days.”

  “Yes, sir.” Erland grinned at Joanna.

  “Don’t you care?” she whispered. “He tried to take everything.”

  The man shrugged. “Well, he got nothing, and I didn’t really relish the idea of putting him in prison.”

  “Come along, come along,” said her father. He had relented a little after hearing Erland’s story. He still seemed to take the moving of the stone as a personal affront, but he no longer blamed anyone present. And when he realized that they could now descend directly into the crypt, without further efforts, he became almost cheerful.

  A lantern was fetched, and Mr. Rowntree disappeared below the pavement. Erland was approaching Joanna purposefully when the Oxford party arrived—Gerald, Templeton, and Carstairs—and t
he story of last night’s adventure had to be repeated yet again. When they had marveled sufficiently, the young men found another lantern and joined the explorations. Joanna heard her father call out, “There are inscriptions here, and a funeral plaque.”

  “Coming, sir,” cried Templeton, tripping and nearly pitching headlong into the opening.

  The others helped him down, but before they could advance far into the crypt, Mr. Rowntree shouted again, angrily, “Here, who is that? Who is there?”

  “What is it?” called Gerald.

  “There is someone else down here. Perhaps one of those blackguards from last night,” replied his father.

  There was a great clattering and confused shouting below as Joanna and Erland looked at one another. “What can it be?” said the girl.

  “I don’t know. Unless…ah, yes.”

  “What?”

  He started to reply, but was interrupted by another voice at their feet, crying, “No, Papa. Papa, it is I. Frederick. Don’t!”

  The confusion intensified. “Frederick!” exclaimed Joanna.

  Erland smiled. “Yes, I just remembered. He came over early this morning and disappeared into his secret passage.”

  “Come, Father,” they heard Frederick say then, “I will show you where the passage connects with the crypt. Mr. Erland thinks his family hid Jacobites here.”

  “He does, does he?” replied Mr. Rowntree. “Well, we shall see about that. This is all very slipshod.”

  The noise below lessened. Joanna and Erland smiled at one another.

  “They will be occupied for some time,” he said close to her ear. “Come in.” Nervously, Joanna followed him toward the house. They walked together into the library, and he offered her a chair. She took it, folded her hands, and looked at the floor.

  Erland cleared his throat. “Ah, last night,” he began. But before he could go on, someone called from the hall.