by Dilly Court
Freddie did not come home that day, and Raven did not try to conceal his annoyance. ‘He hasn’t bothered to reply to my telegram,’ he said at dinner that evening. ‘I’m sure that Maria will have explained the situation by now, but Freddie always does exactly what he wants. My brother never changes.’
Grace put her knife and fork down with a clatter. ‘Maybe they haven’t seen him,’ she protested. ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t deliberately ignore your message.’
‘You have more faith in my brother than I have.’
Caroline and Grace exchanged wary glances. ‘Give him a little more time,’ Caroline said hastily. ‘We don’t know how things are in London.’
‘I intend to find out.’ Raven reached for his glass of wine and took a sip. ‘I’ll travel up to London tomorrow morning. You’ll be quite safe here, ladies, and I’ll make sure the gatekeeper and the outdoor servants know that Dickon and Quick are not to be allowed anywhere near the house.’
‘We’ll be all right,’ Caroline said stoutly. ‘Do what you must, my lord.’
Raven shot her an amused glance. ‘I thought we’d agreed that you would call me Raven. I never use my title these days, or at least I don’t in Australia, although if it works to my advantage I might throw it into conversation now that I’m home.’
‘Do you intend to stay in England?’ Grace asked.
‘No, at least not permanently. I’ve worked hard and I’ve had a certain amount of luck, which has enabled me to have a house built to my exact requirements. I own a gold mine and I have a half-share in the Bendigo Queen, but what I’m really interested in are the reefer ships that the Americans use to transport frozen meat. If we could perfect the use of refrigeration in shipping there would be a huge trade between England and the Antipodes.’
‘That’s amazing,’ Caroline said eagerly. ‘I wish our company had the money to invest in such a wonderful idea.’
Raven smiled. ‘Who knows? Maybe you will.’
True to his word, Raven left for London early next morning. Grace had virtually taken over in the kitchen, having found that Mrs Duffin was next to useless. Her only talent was burning everything to a crisp, for which she blamed the range, but as Grace managed to use it without setting fire to the bacon or serving the porridge blackened and lumpy, it seemed that the fault lay firmly with Mrs Duffin. However, she claimed to be a good laundress and was relegated to the wash-house to light the fire under the copper in readiness to deal with the soiled bedding, towels and table linen.
‘Everyone is good at something,’ Grace said philosophically. ‘You just have to find out where their talents lie. Maybe Freddie will keep me on as cook general. I won’t be his mistress, but I think I’d like to live here and look after him, on the understanding that Jenifry and that boy of hers are kept away, of course.’
Caroline was about to take a basket of towels to the laundry room, but she hesitated. ‘Don’t you want to go back to London, Grace? I thought you were eager to spend more time with your daughter.’
‘Of course I want to be near my girl, but if she’s set on marrying that sea captain there’ll be no stopping her. She’ll be off with him on his ship and I’ll be on my own in London.’
‘Is there no chance of a reconciliation between you and your mother?’ Caroline voiced the question, although she felt she already knew the answer.
‘None at all. My mother has a heart of pure granite. My brother Everard, Phin’s father, was her favourite, and my sister Clarice, Gilbert’s mother, wouldn’t say boo to a goose. Mama never liked me because I stood up to her.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Caroline was at a loss as to what else to say.
‘It doesn’t matter now, Carrie. I’ve been through worse since I married Elias. I’ll never go back to him. Never.’
‘Of course not,’ Caroline said firmly. ‘There’s no question of that.’ She left Grace in the kitchen and took the washing to Mrs Duffin, who was in the wash-house, stirring the contents of the copper with a wooden stick. Her round cheeks were flushed from the heat and exertion, but she was singing at the top of her voice and Caroline placed the basket on the table and left unnoticed.
She was cheered by the improvement in Grace’s mood and her pragmatic approach to the life she might expect to lead if she chose to stay at the Abbey. Freddie would have his muse and would have a good cook into the bargain. If he was genuinely fond of Grace it would be up to him to sort out his tangled relationship with Jenifry, but then, lurking in the background, was Elias Quick. Divorce proceedings were expensive and even though she knew little of the law, Caroline suspected that it would be very difficult for Grace to prove that she had been so cruelly abused.
The day passed pleasantly and in the afternoon Caroline took a pair of rattan chairs from the old orangery and placed them on the lawn. Grace dozed off beneath a large straw hat she had found in a cupboard, and Caroline opened the book she had selected from Freddie’s library, which, surprisingly, included works by Miss Austen and Mrs Radcliffe. Caroline had read the first page, but she found her mind wandering. The air was filled with birdsong and the sweet scent from the rose beds brought back memories of the garden in Finsbury Circus. The terrible events that had followed her father’s death had left an indelible impression on Caroline, but the atmosphere in the former monastery garden was both soothing and serene. With the sun high in the sky and the sound of the waves breaking softly on the sand at the foot of the cliffs, it was almost possible to put the past behind her. She relaxed against the silk cushions and closed her eyes.
She was awakened by the maid. ‘There’s a message from his lordship. Billy Davey brought it from the station. It must have come on one of them electric machines that tap out messages.’
Blinking against the bright sunlight, Caroline took the piece of paper that was creased and crumpled as if it had been screwed up in a ball and spent some time in Billy Davey’s pocket. A piece of toffee was still stuck in the fold. She read the message carefully.
‘Billy says is there an answer, miss?’
‘No answer, but thank him anyway.’ Caroline reached out to give Grace a gentle shake. ‘Raven and Freddie will be arriving in time for a late supper.’
A rosy blush coloured Grace’s cheeks. ‘I’ll make a pie that can be eaten hot or cold, then it doesn’t matter if they’re late. I’d best start now.’ She raised herself carefully from the chair. ‘The gardener’s boy brought in a pair of rabbits this morning. I was going to stew them for us, but a pie is better in this hot weather. Would you fetch me a handful of herbs from the kitchen garden, please, Carrie?’
Caroline pulled a face. ‘I would, of course, but I don’t know one herb from another. We left that sort of thing to Cook.’
‘Of course, silly of me. I would have been the same before I married Elias. Now I have a very good grounding in all things that grow wild, including plants that will cure ailments and others that are poisonous.’
‘I wonder you didn’t concoct a deadly brew for Quick,’ Caroline said, smiling.
‘Don’t imagine I didn’t think of it once or twice, but that would have brought me down to his level, and I would have been hanged for my pains.’ Grace started walking in the direction of the kitchen garden. ‘Come with me and I’ll show you what parsley and thyme look like. I hope there’s a bay tree or even a rosemary bush. Look, Carrie – I’m walking without a limp. Isn’t that wonderful, and the pain is getting less and less. The magic of Starcross Abbey is healing my injuries.’
The kitchen garden was bathed in sunshine and Caroline was impressed with Grace’s knowledge of herbs and medicinal plants. They gathered what they needed and made their way back to the house, accompanied by the deafening sound of Mrs Duffin’s throaty contralto and clouds of steam billowing from the open wash-house door. Grace started to laugh, and, although she tried to keep a straight face, Caroline was giggling helplessly by the time they reached the kitchen.
‘I don’t know why Mrs Duffin’s awful out-of-tune attempt at singin
g is so funny,’ Caroline gasped.
‘The Abbey is so quiet and peaceful until she shatters the silence with that truly terrible voice of hers. She sings out of tune and I’m sure she makes up half the words, but she seems to imagine that she sings like a lark.’
Caroline wiped her eyes on her apron. ‘It’s so good to see you laughing, Grace.’
‘I feel happy for the first time in twenty years,’ Grace said seriously. ‘Whatever the future holds nothing can be as bad as being married to that brute.’ She laid the herbs out on the table. ‘If you’ll be kind enough to fetch the rabbits from the larder I’ll show you how to prepare them for the pot. This will be the best pie that Freddie and Raven have ever tasted.’
The rest of the afternoon passed in a flurry of activity. Caroline did what she could to help Grace prepare the meal that would welcome Freddie home, and the savoury aroma of rabbit pie filled the kitchen. Mrs Duffin had made excuses to come indoors, but it was obvious that their sudden burst of activity had made her suspicious, but Caroline had not chosen to satisfy her curiosity. She had sent Mrs Duffin home early, and, for the same reason, had given the maid the evening off. The less the servants knew of their business the better – gossip would soon reach Jenifry’s ears and that was the last thing that Caroline wanted. If Freddie was sincere in his desire to keep Grace at his side he must be given a chance to do so away from prying eyes. Raven might think that his money could buy Jenifry’s silence and Dickon’s loyalty, but Caroline was not so sure.
She sent Grace upstairs to change into her best gown and was just putting the finishing touches to the dining table, when she heard raised voices outside. The dining room overlooked the front of the house, and, to her horror, Caroline saw a group of men struggling with one of the ageing groundsmen and the head groom. It was an unequal fight as the intruders were younger and stronger, and their leader was Dickon with Elias Quick in the background, wielding a cudgel.
Caroline ran into the hall shouting for Grace, who appeared at the top of the stairs, pale-faced and trembling. ‘I knew it,’ she cried. ‘He’s come to get me.’
‘I’m afraid so, but we won’t let them in.’
Grace hurried downstairs as fast as her long skirts would allow. She clutched the newel post, breathing heavily. ‘What do we do now? They’ll get in somehow, and he’ll kill me this time.’
‘No he won’t.’ Caroline grabbed her by the hand. ‘I know a place where we can hide. Raven and Freddie will be here soon, and then we’ll be safe.’ She dragged Grace through a maze of corridors to Freddie’s study.
‘Why here?’ Grace demanded. ‘This is no better than any other room. We should escape through the kitchen and into the woods.’
‘Dickon knows every inch of the estate. That’s the first place he’ll look and we wouldn’t stand a chance. Just keep quiet and let me find the hidden catch.’ Caroline ran her fingers over the panelling in the far wall.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Found it.’ Caroline turned to give Grace a triumphant smile. ‘Freddie showed me the secret passage when I was a child and we used to get to the beach this way. Sometimes we took the rowing boat and went fishing for dabs.’
‘A secret passage?’ Grace’s hand flew to cover her mouth.
‘Yes, it was used by smugglers in the last century, and we’re going to escape through it now. It’s only half a mile or so to the railway station. We’ll be safe if we can get there and we’ll meet Raven and Freddie off the train.’ She held her hand out to Grace. ‘Come on. It’s a lot safer down there than it is in the house. I think I heard breaking glass.’
Grace needed no second bidding and she squeezed through the narrow opening. ‘It’s very dark.’
‘Hold on a moment. I’ll light a candle.’ Caroline snatched a chamber candlestick from Freddie’s desk and struck a match. Holding the candle high above her head she followed Grace into the passage and closed the door behind them. ‘I’ll go first. There are steps leading downwards so mind how you go.’
‘I can hear the sea. It sounds very close,’ Grace whispered.
Caroline could feel the cold air rushing towards her and condensation dripped off the tunnel roof and walls. She remembered asking Freddie who had hewn the red sandstone, carving the passage through the cliff, but he protested that history was not his forte and she had better ask someone who was better informed. But then he had sworn her to secrecy and she had never discovered the answer to her question. It was irrelevant now – all she knew was that it provided a means of distancing them from the intruders who meant them harm. However, it was only a matter of time before Dickon would realise where they had gone. He might not have been present during her past visits to the Abbey, and Freddie had good reason for keeping his love child a secret, but Dickon would know every nook and cranny in the old building and he would soon find them.
‘It’s not much further.’ Caroline made an effort to sound positive, but Grace was right, the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks was growing louder.
‘I think I can hear them in the study,’ Grace said in a low voice.
‘Dickon would be the only one to know about the tunnel. Best hurry now.’
Caroline led the way, slipping and sliding on the wet stone steps, and grazing her knuckles on the rough walls as she tried to stop herself from falling. She must not allow the candle flame to be extinguished. Grace stumbled and righted herself by clutching Caroline’s arm and for a moment it seemed that they would both tumble into the blackness, but Caroline wedged her elbow against the rock and managed to steady both of them. Her arm was bruised and sore but she ignored the pain, breathing a sigh of relief when she realised that they had come to the bottom of the steps.
‘It really isn’t far now,’ she whispered. ‘I can see a glimmer of daylight.’
‘Thank goodness, because my legs are shaking so badly I think they might give way beneath me.’
‘The passage ends in a cave. We’ll be there very soon.’ Caroline felt the salt air on her cheeks and she pressed on with Grace clinging to her hand. ‘Not far now. When we get to the beach we are almost there.’
‘The waves are very loud. Can you see the mouth of the cave, Carrie?’
Caroline came to a sudden halt. The mouth of the cave was clearly visible now, as was the water that was lapping around her feet. She had not bargained for a high tide and she could hear shouts echoing off the walls of rock. Their pursuers were coming, but they were cut off by the sea.
‘I’m so sorry, Grace. The tide is in – we’re trapped.’
Chapter Twenty
The waves were lapping gently round Caroline’s feet and the water seemed calm, almost inviting. Through the mouth of the cave she could see the sky, rose pink in the sunset, and the wet sand beneath her feet suggested that the tide was on the turn.
‘I can’t swim.’ Grace clutched Caroline’s arm. ‘But I’d rather drown than go back to Elias.’
‘You won’t have to.’ In the dark shadows of the rocky cave wall Caroline caught sight of the rowing boat, moored to an iron ring. She bundled her skirts up round her waist. ‘Wait there, Grace.’
‘You can’t go into the water.’
‘I’ve done this once before and it only came up to my waist.’ Caroline cocked her head on one side, listening. ‘Can you hear them? They’ll be on us in a few minutes. Let go of me.’ She wrenched free from Grace’s frantic clutch and waded into the water. The sudden chill made her stomach clench and she could feel the undertow as the water receded, but she reached the boat and after a couple of unsuccessful attempts, managed to heave herself on board. Her fingers were numb with cold but she untied the painter and manoeuvred the boat towards Grace.
‘You’ll have to get your feet wet,’ Caroline said through chattering teeth. ‘Hurry, Grace – they’ll be here any moment now.’
Quick’s voice echoed off the walls of the tunnel and Grace flung herself into the boat. Caroline thrust an oar into her hands. ‘Do as I do. The tide
is on our side.’
Quick and Dickon had reached the end of the tunnel and they waded into the water but they were soon waist deep, and a combination of desperate sculling and the ebb tide helped the small craft out to sea.
‘It’s no good, Carrie.’ Grace bent double over the oar, gasping for breath. ‘My ribs hurt and I can’t row any quicker.’
‘We need to get away from the shore.’ Caroline grabbed the oar from Grace and began rowing furiously.
‘Where are we going?’ Grace clutched the sides of the boat, glancing anxiously over her shoulder.
‘They can’t follow us, unless they can swim like porpoises,’ Caroline said, chuckling. ‘But they’ll probably make for the beach where they think we’ll put ashore.’
‘Where are we going then?’
‘Let me concentrate on rowing.’ Caroline was beginning to struggle as the tide and currents were taking them further and further from the shore. She had not handled the oars of a boat for several years, and she could feel a change in the weather as the wind increased and the sky darkened. The sun was obscured by dark clouds and spots of rain landed like pinpricks on her cheeks, numbing her fingers as they curled around the oars. Grace huddled, petrified in the stern, covering her face with her hands.
A sudden flash of lightning was followed by a rumble of thunder and a gust of wind seized the boat, sending it scudding out of her control. Caroline struggled to hold on to the oars, but one of them snapped in two and she was left holding a broken spar. She tossed it into the sea, attempting to scull, using the remaining oar, but she was no match for the elements and they bobbed about on the waves like a child’s toy.
