There was no further intimacy, but on several occasions, especially when Eleanor was dining with him, she caught a decided gleam in his eye as he watched her across the table. She had not repeated the error of wearing an evening gown. She appeared each time in a high necked dimity, better suited to the afternoon. Her only concession each night was a more elaborate arrangement of her hair.
The house was fully staffed; with his permission she had asked the housekeeper, Nayland, to start a thorough cleaning of the empty rooms. The day before the party, he asked her to join her for a stroll whilst the children were out with the nursery maids.
“There is something I particularly wish to show you, my dear. Also, there are matters that we need to discuss pertaining to the event tomorrow.”
“Everything is organized, I have biscuits for the village children when they go and the cake is iced.”
He grinned. “I have no wish to know the details, my dear, merely what my duties are to be.”
“You are to wave the flag at the commencement of each race. Foster is to be the judge; I thought he might seem more impartial to the participants. At the end you are to present the winners with a silk rosette and a silver threepenny bit. Then the second a green rosette and one penny, finally for the third child a blue rosette and a halfpenny. There, that is not too arduous, is it?”
“Excellent. Come, we shall converse of something more interesting.”
“Well, my lord, I have removed the hangings from the—”
“Please, no more domestic detail, Eleanor, I beg you. These matters are your responsibility. I have no wish to be involved. Did I not see several boxes arrive yesterday? Surely you would rather talk about new clothes than bed hangings?”
She smiled. There was that strange light in his eyes again. “I had thought that my apparel would be of even less interest to you, sir. I have more outfits than I shall ever have occasion to wear. As we do not entertain, and I am not intending to pay morning calls, why do I need so many?”
“You are a wonder, my dear. I cannot believe there’s another woman in the land who would object to having a full closet. I like to see you dressed as befits your station. You are an earl’s daughter, the title is your own. It was disgraceful Thorrington obliged you to wear the garb of a servant.”
This was the opportunity she had been waiting for. “Alex, I wish to discuss my former life. The only thing marring my happiness is the fact that I’ve had no word from my nephews and niece. I was like a mother to them and there is not a moment in the day I do not worry about their welfare.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Then you must invite them to visit, my dear.” He paused, his eyes watchful. “I’m leaving for Town the day next week. I shall be away a week; I should be pleased if you had company in my absence. Why not write today and invite your sister-in-law and her children to come?”
She pressed his arm. “Thank you, Alex. I shall write immediately.” He placed his own over hers and her heart skipped a beat.
“It’s my pleasure, my dear.” He had remained with them far longer than expected; she had no complaints on that score. The children had learned to love their father; he was no longer a stranger to any of them.
“Indeed, if they came straight away the boys could travel from here to their school.” Eleanor moved forward, forcing him to release her.
The stable clock struck three; the children would be back soon with the comfits and bonbons ordered from the village shop. Why was he leading her in this direction?
His arm encircled her waist and he guided her under the archway leading to the yard. “Go to the third loose box, from the end, my dear.”
As he spoke a dapple grey head appeared over the door. “What a pretty horse; I have not seen her before.” She stroked the animal’s ears, loving the silky feeling.
He was beside her, patting the animal’s gleaming neck. “This is Silver, she’s my wedding gift to you.”
Her hands froze. Time stood still. A gift? This was quite unexpected. “I am obliged, Alex. I have not ridden since my mother died. However, it would be a pleasure to do so again, especially on this lovely mare.”
His shoulder was solid against hers, even through the thickness of his jacket and shirt she could feel his strength. “I’m glad that you like her, my dear. She’s perfect for you: good-natured, but eager to go.”
He was waiting for her to say more. “Thank you, I don’t expect to be given gifts. This was not part of our arrangement.”
His breath brushed her cheek, the deep brim of her bonnet couldn’t protect her from this intimacy. “Not part of our arrangement? I believe that’s also something that needs further discussion at some point.”
With this cryptic comment, he took her elbow and guided her round to the home paddock situated behind the stables. In it were three brown ponies, identical in size and colour.
She couldn’t restrain herself, she squeezed his hands a second time. “The children will love them, they are perfect. Exmore ponies make the best mounts for beginners. I can’t wait to get them started; they will be so excited.”
She attempted to remove her hands, but his fingers tightened. “I thought to give them all a name day gift; I have been remiss in my duties in that respect. As they are sharing the party, I believe Lucy will be happy for her siblings to receive something as well.”
Why was he staring at her again in that disturbing way? Eleanor tried again to extricate her hands. He was so close his body heat washed over her; his familiar aroma of lemons was now mixed with saddle soap and leather.
Running feet approached the paddock. She jumped away. Davies, the estate manager, skidded to a halt. “My lord, you are needed urgently! There’s trouble in the village.”
“I’ll come at once. Please excuse me, Eleanor, my dear.” Alex strode off, leaving her alone with the ponies. Presumably it was no concern of hers. She would remain a while longer before she returned to the house.
Good grief! The village! The children were there. Could this difficulty involve them in some way?
She spun, gathering her skirt in both hands, and ran after her husband, determined to discover for herself if their children were in danger. There was pandemonium in the stable yard as grooms frantically saddled horses. Alex was talking urgently to a young man, who raced off in the direction of the house
“Lord Bentley, tell me, has something happened to the children? Has there been an accident?”
Grim-faced, he turned to her. “You must not concern yourself, my lady. Go back to the house, I shall return later with the children. Please don’t worry.”
He vaulted onto his huge stallion, the three grooms followed, plus Davies. One groom led an extra horse. This must be for Foster; the message had been sent to him.
Eleanor was not prepared to let them go without her. Lucy, Elizabeth and Alexander were her children too; she loved them as much she loved her niece and nephews. Whatever his instructions, she would not be left behind. She called to one of the remaining grooms.
“Saddle Silver at once, bring her round the front of the house. I shall be ready in five minutes.”
Alex was relieved to see Foster leaping down the marble steps and racing towards him. “Come on, man, there’s not a moment to lose. Some villain has abducted my son.” Foster tossed over a brace of pistols, one after the other. Alex jammed them in his pockets. “Are they primed and ready to go?”
“They are, my lord.”
He urged his horse into a reckless gallop scattering gravel as he thundered down the drive and into the winding lane that led to Blakely village. His stomach churned. Why should anyone snatch his son? He swallowed. Was Alexander to be held for ransom? No one in his demesne would do such a thing, here his tenants were well fed. Perhaps itinerants had drifted on to his land and snatched this opportunity.
How in God’s name did they know who Alexander was? He could have been any gentleman’s son. Did someone in the village point him out? Had these bastards seized the opportunity and only dis
covered their good fortune afterwards?
The message said nothing about the children’s whereabouts, the man had spoken his piece and vanished. And what of his daughters? Why was there no mention of them? He was to go to Bunton’s farm, at the far end of the village.
He raised his arm as they reached the outskirts of Blakely. To ride pell-mell down the winding main street was foolhardy. Subterfuge was called for. When his men were beside him he explained what he intended to do.
“I shall ride in; I want Tom with me. Foster, take two men and follow the path behind the church; keep hidden, and work your way toward the farm. Davies, you take the other man and follow the stream. With luck they’ll not be expecting to be attacked from three sides. Go carefully, we’re not sure how many we’re dealing with.”
He waited until they were out of sight, then with Tom behind he resumed his ride up the deserted lane. Where was everyone? What was going on here? Were they dealing with more than just a couple of vagabonds hoping to make a few guineas?
“Tom, can you remember exactly what the messenger said? Did he ask for me in particular?”
“He did, my lord. ‘Tell Lord Bentley we have his son. He’s to come immediately to Bunton’s barn if he wishes to recover him alive.’ Those were his exact words.”
This was no random kidnapping. Why should anyone wish him harm? He had no enemies, but someone had targeted him by snatching his child. He was following their orders without a second thought. Who had known he was in residence, had known he wouldn’t stop to consider the consequences?
Was it Alexander they wanted, or himself? Whoever was behind this was well-informed to have known the children were in the village today. He must concentrate. Try and fathom this conundrum before he reached the farm.
The sound of his horse’s hooves on the cobbles announced his coming as nothing else could. The few shops were shuttered, the path as empty as the street. His tenants wouldn’t hide without good reason. Whoever sent him the message must have terrified the villagers into doing their bidding.
If he was murdered who would gain from his death? The hair on his forearms stood up. He had told Eleanor last week he had altered his will in her favour. The estate was entailed, but his various investments would come to her. In the event of his death she would be a wealthy woman indeed. His fingers tightened on his reins and Lucifer stopped.
They had reached the turning into the narrow lane leading to Bunton’s barn. Distracted by his appalling speculations he turned the animal’s head and moved up the track. He must be mistaken, each day he spent in her company he liked her better. He would trust her with his life.
The hideous crack of a rifle shot jerked him from his reverie. The bullet whistled past his head, taking his hat with it. In one smooth movement he rolled from the saddle and into one of the ditches running on either side of the track. His pistols would be no use against a rifle, but he felt happier with them in his hands.
A fusillades of bullets thudded into the ground and he crouched lower. The smell from the dank water made him gag, but kneeling in human excrement was better than being dead. “Tom, are you hurt?”
“I ain’t, sir, but it was bloomin’ close.”
“The horses?”
“Gone, my lord. I don’t reckon either of them was hit. What do we do now?”
Alex knew they were pinned down. It was only a matter of time before their attackers appeared to capture them. Were they attempting to kill him? Or were these warning shots? Was the abductor showing him see how well prepared they were?
Davies and Foster carried shotguns, but even they would be no protection against one well-aimed rifle. He had no choice; he must remain where he was, wait and see how matters developed.
Christ on a tree! How could he be so stupid?
They did not have Alexander. They would not have taken just one child; they could have taken all three. This was a ruse to get him here.
“Tom, we must crawl back down the ditch. Keep your head down. Good luck.”
“Sally, are you there? I need my habit; quickly help me change. I have to get to the village, I’m sure something has happened to the children.”
Thankfully her maid didn’t argue, and in less than the allotted time Eleanor was downstairs. Her mare was waiting patiently at the foot of the steps. The groom tossed her into the saddle. He had brought a second horse as he intended to accompany her.
“My lady, his lordship’s gone to the village because a message came saying Master Alexander had been abducted.”
Eleanor’s hands tightened and Silver threw up her head. “We must make haste. I knew my children were in danger.” She gathered the reins, dug in her heels and the horse responded, breaking into a smooth canter.
She had visited Blakely many times and knew most of the villagers by name. There was a single street with the church and vicarage at one end, these stood at the end of their drive. The village green and duck pond were at the far end of the village.
She pulled Silver back to a walk as they passed the church. It might be better if they left the horses in the church yard and approached by the back lane. She dropped from the saddle and pulled the mare’s reins over her head. She needed to be calm, not show the groom her fear.
“We must leave the horses here, they will come to no harm within the walls of the cemetery.”
“Shall I bring my cudgel, my lady?”
“Yes, do so. It’s Jim, is it not?”
The young man nodded. “Do you know where we’re going, my lady?”
“I shall go and speak to Mrs Milner, the seamstress. Her cottage is in the very centre of the village, whatever happened she must have seen it.”
The village was too quiet. The usual sounds of activity, of dogs barking and children playing, were frighteningly absent. Eleanor shivered. She was glad when she arrived at the rear gate of the cottage she sought. She threaded her way through the vegetable patch, past the privy and washhouse, to the back door.
She knocked once; there was no sound of footsteps hurrying to answer her summons. After her second knock she heard movement and the door was pulled open a crack. A white face peered around.
“My lady, whatever are you doing here? It’s a bad day, you should have stayed safe at home. Come in, quickly before you’re seen.”
An arm shot out and she was pulled inside; Jim was a left to fend for himself. “Mrs Milner, what’s going on?”
“My lady, I can’t tell you how dreadful things have been; I’ve never seen the like. At least a dozen or more men, armed to the teeth they were. Three on horseback, the rest on foot. They ordered us to shut up shop, to stay in inside or be killed.” The woman mopped her eyes. “They murdered my little Peggy. Right in front of me, they clubbed her to death because she barked at them.”
“How dreadful! Have they harmed anyone else, do you know?”
“There was deal of shouting and door banging, my lady. I don’t know if anyone else was murdered.”
Eleanor took a deep breath and sent a fervent prayer to the Almighty that her family was safe. Mrs Milner was too distraught to be questioned further. The sound of cups rattling on their saucers heralded the arrival of a tray of tea. A slightly more resilient parlour maid appeared.
“Josie, exactly what we need. Put the tray down here.” She waited until the girl had lowered her burden, worried she might drop it. “Did you see anything out there? Do you know where these men are now?”
The girl began to pour the tea but more liquid went in the saucer than the cup. “I reckon they looked like ex-soldiers, my lady. The man who led them was well-dressed, wearing smart coat and boots, I couldn’t she see his face because his hat was pulled down low.”
“Do you have any idea of the whereabouts of my children when these men arrived?”
“Master Alexander wanted to feed the ducks before they returned. I saw them walking towards the pond. That was a good few minutes before those varmints arrived.”
“Thank you, Josie. Shall I take my tea? G
ive Mrs Milner plenty of sugar, she needs the sweetness to recover from the shock.”
Whilst Eleanor sipped her tea, she reviewed the information. There was something she could not quite grasp, something important. Yes, she had it. Why did the message only mention Alexander had been abducted? These villains would have taken all three children, not just her son. The children must be safe somewhere. Mentioning the boy’s name had been a ruse to draw Alex into the village.
Her tea slopped onto her lap. There was only one person would wish to harm her husband. Edward must know about her marriage and believed by killing her husband he could somehow retain her inheritance. Her brother was insane. His rage and disappointment had tipped him over the edge.
She should never have married, knowing Edward was given to murderous rages. She should have warned Alex, but she had been so content these past few weeks she had pushed all such thoughts out of her mind.
Now it was too late. For a second time she had put his life in peril.
Chapter Thirteen
Alex emerged cautiously from the noisome ditch. The rifle fire was concentrated at the far end where he had tumbled from his horse. His assailants didn’t know they’d moved. Maybe they thought someone as top lofty as himself wouldn’t crawl through excrement to escape.
Keeping low, he ran across the lane and plunged into the hedge that bordered it. The stench he brought with him meant he couldn’t rap on a door and ask for assistance. Until he smelt better, he must lurk in an outbuilding and hope his own men found him first.
He crawled through the hedge and, knowing he was no longer a target, straightened. Tom arrived moments later. He visibly recoiled when within a few yards.
“I know; I crawled through a midden. I take it you were more fortunate.”
“Blooming hell, my lord, if you pardon me saying so. I ain’t never smelt nothing like it.”
Fenella J Miller Page 11
