Fascination -and- Charmed

by Stella Cameron

  “Have it your own way. What’ll really surprise you is where you are.”

  Thumping. Thumping and jostling and the clink of a horse’s hoofs on rocks.

  “You’re within spitting distance of Franchot Castle, you are. What d’you think about that?”

  “I want to go,” she said, unable to hold back the desperation any longer. “I want to go now.”

  “No, no, no. You’ll have to stay, ducky. Can’t disobey my orders. This is the abandoned lighthouse. The one on the head to the west of the castle. Remember it?”

  She cast about in her fuzzy mind. “No. Yes, yes.” The lighthouse had been there, but she’d never paid it any attention. A new one had been built farther inland. She seemed to remember being told that this one was abandoned because it was too often endangered by high seas.

  Pippa edged away from the man and he showed no sign of following her. Slowly, she started to push herself up until she stood, her head on a level with the gaping openings around the top of the lighthouse. She gulped in sea air and all but gagged on its heavy salt tang.

  “Don’t you go casting up your accounts again,” the man said. “Had enough of that, I have. Might decide I couldn’t wait any longer.”

  “You don’t have to wait,” Pippa said quickly. “Really, I’m very good at being on my own.”

  His awful mouth opened in a guffaw. “Really, I’m very good at being on my own,” he mimicked. “And I’ve been sitting here wasting my time with you for nigh on two days only because I like looking at dirty, skinny little women snoring and snuffling. You’re here until he sends word.”

  “He?”

  The man merely grinned.

  Oh, dear Lord, Franchot. Franchot had arranged to have her kidnapped so he could take her away to marry her instantly and put his fears to rest. She tried to compose herself. “I left a note, you know. If I were you, I’d make my getaway while I could. They’ll be bound to be looking for me already, and this isn’t very far at all, is it?”

  “No, it isn’t,” he said, still in a parody of her accents. “And it was so nice of you to leave the note. I understand the lady who received it has arranged for parties to scour the countryside. They’ve gone particularly wide, so I’m told. Following your horse’s tracks. Got in someone specially for the job.”

  “But I never got my horse…”

  He grinned afresh. “You didn’t, but someone did. And they rode fast and far. So far your little band of rescuers will be busy a nice long time. And when they do give up, the last place they’ll look is so close to home as this, right?”

  Pippa’s legs would not hold her. She slid back down the wall and hit the wooden boards hard enough to jar her spine. “Why?” she asked. “What could it possibly…You will ask for a ransom. Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? My father will pay you, but he…” No, she must not say that Papa might not return for two or three more weeks.

  “I won’t need your father’s ransom, my lady,” her captor said. “I’ll be paid handsomely enough by the gentleman who arranged this little holiday for you. He told me to tell you not to worry. And—as you can see—I haven’t hurt you, have I? No, not too much, anyways.”

  “There were two of you,” Pippa said suddenly. “I remember. One of you held me and one of you forced me to drink.”

  “Don’t go straining your mind. Save yourself. You’re going to need all your strength.”

  He came closer, grinning his horrible grin, and she shrank away. “You could try saying your prayers. I’ve heard some females do find a lot of comfort in their prayers.”

  Sniffing, he pulled a flask from his pocket and took a swallow. “Need something to keep me going. Cold up here.”

  “Let me go!” Pippa cried. The wailing came again. Gulls. Seagulls. She was so close to Cloudsmoor and familiar places. Calum. Calum would be searching, too. “Please, let me go!”

  “Can’t do it,” he said, shaking his head. “Not till I get orders. And then it won’t be orders to let you go. Not exactly.”

  She pushed her hair from her eyes. “What’s happening to me?”

  “Simple,” he said. “You’re waiting here with me until I get word that it’s time for you to go to sleep again. Should have come by now. Can’t imagine what’s keeping him.”

  Pippa opened her mouth, but no sound came.

  “That’s a clever, quiet girl. Not that it matters if you scream. Even if someone heard you, they’d think it was the seabirds. When he sends word, you’ll go to sleep. I’ll make sure you don’t know any more than you did the last time. Only this time you won’t have the worry about all this nasty waking up.”

  She did scream—and clamp her hands over her mouth to try to hold it back. Gasping, coughing, she drew her legs beneath her and said, “You’re going to kill me. Why?”

  “Don’t go on. It’ll only make things worse. And Mr. Innes said I was to try to keep you happy till it was time.”

  Charmed Twenty-Seven

  Calum met Struan’s eyes and between them passed the understanding that the wisdom of this return to the castle would not be questioned again.

  Side by side, they rode beneath storm-laden clouds, up the great drive to the peregrine-flanked gates.

  Beneath the stone escutcheon bearing the Franchot arms, those gates stood open.

  “Odd,” Struan said.

  Calum drew up the bay hack, twisted in his saddle and searched for the gatekeeper. The door to his quarters also stood open. “Probably means nothing.” He looked at Struan again. Unspoken was the thought that they did not know what awaited them at Franchot Castle.

  “Pippa will not have told him,” Struan said.

  “No.”

  “We will hold to the tale that you rode out to meet me and I’d had difficulty on my travels from Dorset.”

  Calum knew how Struan detested falsehood. “Thank you,” he told him. “I cannot give her up, Struan. I cannot.”

  “And I must make certain all goes well for Ella and Max. So we both have reasons to return.” Struan urged his mount onward.

  Calum fell in with his friend. “Franchot is innocent in whatever plot took place here.”

  “He is a bad man.”

  “Yes, but he is guilty of no crime against me other than having been used.”

  “So”—Struan looked sideways, and in the gray, early morning light, his lean face was starkly somber—“you have decided to leave him with everything you believe is yours?”

  The day and two nights since Calum had left this place had been the longest in his life, and they had taught him a great deal. He said, “Everything but Pippa.”

  Struan smiled. “I do believe you shall have her. What woman could resist a man prepared to give up his claim to so much in exchange for her hand?”

  Calum faced the castle. “If I can persuade her to believe I want only her. And if she does want me.”

  They broke from the avenue of trees to the rise before the great entrance.

  Struan pulled up once more and wheeled. “Who is that?” He referred to a figure dashing down wide steps from open double doors. “All is not well here.”

  “Nelly,” Calum said. “And Justine behind her.” And after Justine came Max.

  Nelly and Max reached them at the same time. “Oh, Mr. Innes,” Nelly said, catching at his arm as he dismounted. “Oh, sir.”

  “I saw ‘em go,” Max said, jumping up and down. “I saw ‘em.”

  “Hush, Max,” Justine said, arriving slightly out of breath. All three appeared disheveled and the rising wind tossed their hair. Justine looked to Struan. “I would have sent for you had I known where Pippa’s cabin was. That is where you were?”

  “Yes—”

  “I wished I’d known, too, your lordship,” Nelly said, rolling her apron around her hands. “There’s none here but womenfolk and children. The rest are all out searching.”

  “For me?” Struan said, rumpling his brow.

  “I saw ‘em,” Max said. “The black-haired m
an and a big ’orse. Breathing fire, the ’orse was—and smoke. And there were black dogs the size of bears with ghosts holding their chains. And the billowy lady went in the carriage with the other ’orse behind.”

  “Hush, Max,” Justine said. “He is severely agitated and must be forgiven. This is a terrible strain and far too much for children. Grandmama refuses to leave her rooms.”

  Calum restrained himself from mentioning that the dowager frequently refused to leave her rooms.

  “Poor little Ella’s beside herself,” Nelly said. To Struan she spoke very earnestly. “She’s taken on terrible about her mam, your lordship. I think with what’s happened here, it’s brought it all back. She keeps talking about her mam dying like it just happened.”

  “Did,” Max said. “You’ve got to go after ’em, Mr. Innes. Before it’s too late.”

  “Go after whom?” Calum caught the boy by the shoulders.

  “He’s not slept in two days,” Justine said, shivering and folding her arms tightly. “You know how he makes up stories, but forgive him, please.” She pulled a note from her pocket and gave it to Calum. “Read that. Everyone’s been out searching ever since.”

  With Struan looking over his shoulder, Calum read.

  “When Nelly went to her yesterday morning, she was gone,” Justine said. “We think she left in the night. Her favorite horse is missing. But so far no one’s come to say they’ve seen any sign of her.”

  “Where’s…where’s your brother?” Calum asked.

  “Searching with the rest. They took every able man from the estate. Villagers volunteered, too, and a host from Cloudsmoor.”

  “I saw ’em go,” Max shouted. “I saw ’em. Cacklin’ and whisperin’. Fearsome, it was.”

  Nelly shook her head and tried to take the boy into her arms. “He’s been telling his stories ever since it happened. Poor little motherless boy.”

  “Poor Pippa,” Justine said. Dark smudges underscored her tired eyes. “I’m afraid for her. There’s going to be a terrible storm and she’s alone out there.”

  This was his fault. Calum glanced at Struan. “Let us get them inside. Then I’ll set off.”

  “Not until someone returns,” Justine said. “What point is there in going where others have already been?”

  “I have to do something. I’ll go to Cloudsmoor Hall.”

  “We already know she didn’t go there.”

  “My God,” Calum said. “I blame myself for this.”

  “No,” Struan said simply, casting Calum a warning stare before taking Justine’s hand and tucking it beneath his arm. “Come, dear lady. I’ll see you safely inside and we’ll think what will be best. Come, Nelly, and you, too, Max.”

  “I’ll deal with the horses,” Calum said, gathering the reins of both beasts.

  “The billowy lady helped the tall man put ’er on the ’orse,” Max said when the others had disappeared inside the castle. “No one will listen to me.”

  Buffeted by the wind, Calum started for the stables. “Come and help me,” he said to the boy. “The viscount and I will need fresh mounts.”

  “No, you won’t.” Max capered at Calum’s side. “I’d go on my own. Honest, I would. Only I’m afraid of that big man and I don’t mind sayin’ as much.”

  “Billowy ladies and tall, black-haired men,” Calum said. His fault. He’d driven her out into the night alone. “And fire-breathing horses and giant dogs led by ghosts.”

  “One billowy lady. You know the one. ’Er. I don’t know ’er name, but she was at the fair with the nasty duke what owns this place and that other man—the one what pinched my cheek.”

  Calum paused. “Henri St. Luc? He pinched your face?”

  “Yes, yes. That’s the one. That’s ’is name. ’E wanted me to go with ’im to ’is rooms one day, but I wouldn’t. ’E was drivin’ the carriage when the billowy lady left.”

  “Lady Hoarville?”

  “I don’t know ’er name. The one with silver hair, and—”

  “Anabel,” Calum said, dropping to his haunches in front of Max. “What does she have to do with Lady Philipa?”

  Max spread his arms. “I’ve been tryin’ to tell you. Nobody will listen to me.”

  “I’m listening now.”

  “It’s because I’ve told too many tales, and I won’t never do it again.”

  Calum made fists on his thighs. “Tell me.”

  “I wanted someone to ’elp Ellie ’cause she wouldn’t stop cryin’. I tried to get you, but you was gone. So I went to find Lady Philipa, because Ellie’d sneaked away to the fair and found out our mum’s died. When Ellie come back, she wouldn’t stop cryin’. I didn’t know our mum much.”

  Calum was speechless.

  “Anyway, I went to get Lady Philipa to ’elp. And I saw em.

  “Yes?” Calum’s heart hammered.

  “A big man what I ain’t never seen before carried Lady Philipa out of her room. That lady was there, the one what you said. I followed ’em and they put Lady Philipa on a ’orse. She was asleep. The man rode away with ’er and the other lady left with that Henry.”

  Calum schooled himself to speak calmly. “And you told this to the duke?”

  Max shook his head. “Nobody would listen to—”

  “No, no. I understand.” He stood up. God help him, he didn’t know which direction to follow.

  “I’ll come with you, Mr. Innes. I can be brave if you’re there.”

  Calum tried to smile. “Thank you, my friend. But first I’ll have to decide where to start looking for them.”

  “But I know. I saw ’em.”

  Focusing on the boy’s green eyes, Calum tilted his head. “You saw them? You mean you saw them ride away?”

  “Yes. And then I followed. I didn’t think I’d find ’em. But with Lady Philipa slipping about in her sleep, they went slow—and they didn’t go far, see. The ’orse is tied up outside, so I knew I was right. Only nobody would—”

  “I’m listening,” Calum said.

  Pippa could scarcely make out the newcomer’s face in the gloom.

  “Get out,” he told her captor curtly. “Go wherever it is you go and wait there.”

  “But you aren’t supposed to be here. She—”

  “Hold your tongue or you’ll wish you had. You have made a great error. The party to whom you refer has just revealed the nature of this disastrous venture to me. I was searching the countryside when she—when I was told.”

  “Now you listen to me—”

  “No. You listen to me. If you hold to silence for one month, you can expect to benefit. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Very clear, Your Grace,” the man said. “But I think you’ll have trouble with—”

  “You deal with that problem. Make certain no further approach is made to me at the castle. Leave us at once.”

  After the briefest of hesitations, the man turned and left the beacon room, thudding down the steps at a great rate.

  “My dear Philipa.” The Duke of Franchot came toward her, his arms outstretched. “Thank God I found out this evil plan before it was too late. I can scarcely believe you have been here through two terrible nights. I was searching for you. But you are safe now, my dear.”

  She closed her eyes and hadn’t the strength to resist when he pulled her into a tight embrace.

  “Innes was going to kill us both,” Franchot said. “Then he was going to say I’d murdered you because you believed he is the rightful duke.”

  Shuddering rattled her teeth together. A rising gale sent an icy blast into the chamber, but it was not the cold wind that chilled her.

  “My poor, dear creature,” Franchot said. “He has not accomplished his scheme. I have my own ways of ensuring that my interests are preserved. And your interests are also my interests. We shall leave this frightful place now.”

  “What has happened?” she asked, trying to draw away.

  Franchot lifted her into his arms. “He is not apprehended, but he will be. Mean
while, I must take you—and myself—somewhere safe. We must preserve your honor at all costs. Fear not, dearest, that will be easily done. I have a boat in the cove below. We shall put in farther down the coast and marry immediately. Everything is arranged.”

  “But I don’t understand. Why don’t we go back and confront him?”

  Franchot strode with her from the lighthouse and set off down a rocky trail to the shore. “Save your strength,” he said, breathing hard. “The tide is high and we’ll have a harsh pull ahead of us.”

  Calum could not have done what Franchot had said. “Please,” she urged. “I do not think this is wise.”

  “It is the way it will be,” he responded, muscles contracting in his jaw. “That man will not get the better of me, and neither will anyone else. What is mine is mine, and it shall not be taken from me.”

  Pippa closed her mouth and felt a scream rise in her throat. He appeared quite mad.

  The boat Franchot referred to was a crabber’s rowboat, one of several drawn up on the narrow strip of rough beach. Depositing her inside, he shoved the broad-beamed little vessel to the water’s edge and pushed off into foaming waves.

  “It’s too rough,” she said as he jumped in and took the oars. “Surely we would be wise to return to the castle and deal with this matter.”

  If he heard her, he gave no sign. A glossy sheen filmed his pale eyes and sweat stood out on his brow. His fine clothes were already sodden.

  Slowly, he began to row away from shore.

  “There will be a storm,” Pippa cried, pointing to leaden skies. Heavy drops of rain spattered the seas around the boat and wetted her upturned face. “We will go back and ensure all is done appropriately.”

  “I shall beat them all,” Franchot said, while the rain soaked his hair. “Any that get in my way shall die.” Laughing, his face streaming with water, he pulled farther and farther into the roiling sea.

  Depositing Max inside the castle with firm instructions not to follow had taken too much time. Calum had ordered the boy to explain his story to Struan. Pray Struan would listen and follow without delay.

  In front of the lighthouse, Calum leaped from his horse before the beast came to a complete stop. An untethered horse, one he recognized as coming from the Franchot stables, raised his head as Calum ran past.