Ghosts from the Past (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies)

by Charles, Jane

  “Yes, I should,” Sophia laughed.

  “I believe I shall retire for the night.” Natalie crossed the room and mounted the stairs while Sophia walked by her side. At least in her chamber no one would disturb her.

  Once alone in her room she wandered to the window and looked out over the horizon. The sea could not been seen from here, yet it drew her. Perhaps a walk along the coast in the evening air would help to make her sleepy and not just exhausted.

  With her mind made up, Natalie left Atwood Manor once again. She picked her way along the path to the cliff and the ocean grew louder the nearer she came to it. A salt breeze blew off the ocean and she tilted her head back, inhaling deeply and the wind blew her hair across her face and behind her. It was almost night, but she could stand here a few more moments.

  “Natasha?”

  She opened her eyes and looked about. Had someone called her name? A chill ran down her spine as it was much like the night Anton had called to her in the woods.

  “I am down here.”

  Natalie looked to the beach below where Vanko stood. A relieved smile came to her lips. He was at the foot of the stairs and she made her way to the edge and climbed down, meeting him on the sand.

  “You have any word?”

  “No, not yet.” She walked toward the edge of the water. The tide would be coming in soon, but it was still safe to be along the beach.

  “I enjoy it here in evening.” Vanko looked back toward the top of the cliff. “Is anyone else with you?”

  Natalie shook her head. “I retired after supper but found it was too early to sleep, so I decided to take a walk.”

  He offered his arm. “I should escort you back before Atwood wonders what become of you.”

  “Nobody knows I left.” She laughed. “Besides, I am a grown woman and do not need to report my activities as we require of the students.” If the water was a bit warmer she would be tempted to slip off her shoes and stockings and wander in. It had been years since she swam in the sea.

  “This couldn’t be more perfect.”

  “What couldn’t be more perfect?” she asked as she turned toward Anton’s friend.

  “Getting you alone,” he answered coldly and withdrew a pistol.

  Natalie eyed it with trepidation and took a step back. “What are you doing?”

  “I am taking you with me.”

  She took another step back, wishing she was not stuck on the sand with only the Irish Sea behind her. To her right was very little beach because the cliffs cropped out into the ocean. Behind Vanko were the stairs leading up to Atwood’s property and to her left was the cave. She couldn’t make it past him or race up the stairs quickly enough to keep from being caught. Her only option was the cave but did she risk becoming caught inside at high tide? All he had to do was go through the house and into the cellar and open the door and she would be trapped.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Make him suffer.”

  “Who?”

  “Your husband. My half-brother.”

  Her mouth dropped open and Natalie stared at Vanko. He looked nothing like Anton. “You are Anton’s brother? He never told me.”

  Vanko let out a harsh laugh. “He doesn’t know. While his mother had privilege of being married to our father, my mother was his whore.”

  Natalie brought a hand to her breast and gasped. The water was licking her heels and soon the tide would slowly begin to rise. Maybe when he took her up the stairs she could escape somehow. “I don’t understand.”

  “I explain,” he said in Russian, crossing his arms over his chest. At least the gun was no longer pointed at her. “Anton had everything. Mother and I lived on what little our father wished to give us. He eventually tired of her and Mother became destitute, until another man took his place, getting another bastard child on her.”

  Her stomach churned at the bitterness of Vanko’s tone.

  “I grew up hating Anton and between Yuri and me, brought about his downfall.”

  “Yuri?” She stilled. “You arranged for his arrest? But how?”

  He laughed again. “Yuri is my younger brother and was a footman in Anton’s home. He was very good at listening at doors and behind panels. He told me everything I needed to know.”

  “To what purpose?” She was stunned by the level of betrayal.

  “I already had a will drawn up that left everything to Anton’s long lost brother—me. As soon as he was dead I was going to present it to the court. Instead, I was arrested.” A cold smile formed on his lips. “Bribery bought me the cell containing Anton.”

  “Why would you help him survive if you wanted Anton dead?”

  “Death was too easy for him. I had contemplated killing him in his sleep, but the more I saw him hold out against the officers and keep his faith in you, I knew it was simply a matter of time before he broke. When he did, I supported his revenge. I knew in time he would find you and realize what he had been told were lies. Once happiness was in his grasp, I was going to take everything from him just like he took happiness away from my childhood and mother.” He pointed the gun at Natalie once again. “That time is now.”

  The blood froze in her veins. “You mean to kill me.” How was she go to get out of this situation and why hadn’t she told anyone she was coming to the beach? They wouldn’t know she was even missing until tomorrow. By then she would be dead. Would Vanko shoot her and toss her body in the ocean? They might not ever know what became of her.

  “Not until Anton is here to witness your demise.”

  Her pulse calmed just a bit. She still had time to escape if she could only figure out how.

  27

  Love, hatred, and jealousy, raged by turns in her heart, and defied all power of control. Subjected to their alternate violence, she experienced a misery more acute than any she

  had yet known.

  A Sicilian Romance

  Ann Radcliffe

  Anton rode ahead of the coach. He scanned the area, looking in different directions, peering into the darkness, trying to see if he could find a man on a horse hiding to stop the carriage. Last night they had not been successful, but he held out hope that tonight the Ghost would reveal himself. Very few areas along the road were tree-lined, but when he came upon them, as now, he grew more alert.

  Movement behind large bushes caught his attention, but he did not turn his head. With only the shift of his eyes did he study the area. There was a man, upon a horse, just beyond the trees. That had to be the Ghost. Who else would be sitting there? There were no other buildings between here and the village five miles back and nothing ahead of him that Anton could see.

  He continued on without giving any indication he had seen the rider. After he took the curve in the road he’d be out of sight, he doubled back, taking the horse through the forest as quietly as possible on the opposite side of the road. He had to come upon the man as soon as he stopped the coach. He stopped in the darkness and listened as the chink of reins and rumbling of a carriage drew near. By his estimation, the other man on horseback was not far ahead. Anton scanned the area until movement was noted and the horse and rider moved closer to the road. Anton slowly moved his horse forward as well, waiting until the man made his move.

  The coach appeared just around the bend. The horse and rider rode into the middle of the road and stopped. The hat was pulled forward and a scarf was wrapped around his head. He shifted and a gun appeared in the man’s right hand. This is what Anton had been waiting for.

  The coach slowed as the driver pulled back on the reins. He made no move to outrun the rider or pull his own gun.

  Anton continued to watch. Did this Ghost travel alone? Was he so foolish?

  The man on horseback jerked his head and another man ran from the woods brandishing his weapon. He came to a stop beside the horses and leveled his gun on the driver while the rider dismounted and strolled up to the carriage door.

  “Your papers and government documents,” he barked as Anton
moved onto the road.

  The man standing turned at his approach, giving Lord Hopkin’s driver the opportunity to pull his gun. The click as he cocked it filled the near silence of the night. Anton also leveled his gun on the man standing while keeping an eye on the man who stood at the coach.

  “Put your gun away,” Lord Hopkins ordered from inside the coach.

  The man who had stopped him laughed. “If you do not hand over your papers your driver will be shot.”

  “As will your partner,” Lord Hopkins said with deadly calm. “Perhaps you should look behind you.”

  The man slowly turned his head looking first at the driver, who held a gun on his partner and next at Anton who held a gun on him. A moment later the door of the coach opened and Hopkins stepped out, his gun leveled on the Ghost.

  “Drop your weapons,” Anton ordered. “Both of you.”

  The two shared a look though Anton could not see their eyes from this distance. He stiffened, ready to shoot if necessary, but the men eventually lowered their arms and let their guns fall to the ground. Lord Hopkins grabbed the one Anton believed to be the Ghost as the driver jumped down to apprehend the other man. Anton calmly rode forward, keeping an eye on both men. Lord Hopkins reached into the carriage and withdrew ropes. He tossed one roll to his driver and used the other to tie around the Ghost’s wrists before helping the man into the coach.

  The men were settled inside the carriage and Lord Hopkins and Anton took seats across from them while the driver tied the horses to the back. Anton reached across the coach and took the hat from the man’s head, which revealed dark blond hair before removing the scarf covering his features. “Warley? What the hell are you about?” He had met Warley in Sankt Peterburg. He had been attached to an English diplomat but soon lost his post and did not return to England. They had seen each other on a few occasions and all Warley could talk about was restoring England to the true monarchy. Anton and Dimitri had distanced himself from the man suspecting that he might be a bit mad.

  “You are supposed to be dead,” the man bit out.

  “Which you arranged!” How the bloody hell did Warley know that he was the Ghost.

  Warley had the audacity to smile. “I simply passed on information as asked.”

  “Why? To what purpose?” Anton demanded.

  He shrugged. “You would not help me and did not appreciate how I was trying to better England.”

  Apparently, the man had not let go of the idea that Henry Benedict Stuart should be king and not George III.

  “Everything would have worked out as it should had Paul not been assassinated. He was forming an alliance with Napoleon. The two of them could have conquered England and in turn be convinced to return a Stuart to the throne.”

  Lord Hopkins blinked at the man as if he were mad.

  As Anton had listened to Warley’s ramblings before, he was not shocked. “You think Napoleon would hand over the ruling of a country to another man after he gained control?” Anton laughed and shook his head.

  “As soon as I have all the documents I need to build a case against King George, Parliament will acknowledge he has no right to rule England and replace him with a Stuart.”

  Anton rubbed his temples. There was no point in arguing with Warley. He would either be imprisoned in Newgate and hanged for treason or locked up in Bedlam. It didn’t matter one whit to Anton. He had more pressing concerns. “Who asked you to relay information about me?”

  Warley’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t see that it matters. The man was arrested and I don’t expect him to ever be released.” He waved a dismissive hand. “He is probably dead as well.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Vanko Michalovic,” Warley answered and glanced out the window.

  Anton’s eyes met Lord Hopkins for a moment. It was not true! “You lie,” he yelled, focusing back on Warley. Would he ever learn the bloody truth?

  “Why would I?” He laughed. “Michalovic wanted you dead for reasons he didn’t explain to me.”

  Anton rubbed his forehead. He had been lied to so many times since his arrest, he didn’t know who to believe any longer. But why would Warley lie about this? “How did he get his information?”

  “He said his brother was a footman in your home.”

  His servants had been spying on him? Yuri? But he and Vanko didn’t even know one another.

  Fear skirted up his spine. Vanko was back at the manor to keep an eye on Natasha. Would he harm her? What game did he play? Why wish ill of him when they had never even met before being locked away together? Was it for the reward? None of this was making any sense.

  Perhaps Vanko had a change of heart after being in prison because the man had plenty of opportunities to kill him.

  The coach slowed to a stop and Anton looked out the window. They had arrived at the next town.

  “I’ll explain everything to the magistrate,” Lord Hopkins said. “You need to get back to Atwood Manor.”

  Natalie prayed the boat would not capsize in the large waves. After directing her into the cave, Vanko had forced her into a small boat before tying her wrists together. He also tied her ankles together and knotting a gag behind her head. He then instructed her to sit on the bottom instead of on a bench. She could barely see above the sides of the boat. They waited in silence as the waves came in and the craft rose on the water before Vanko paddled out to sea, into the dark of the night and away from the school and Creighton Manor. There were few houses along the coast. Even if someone looked out a window she and Vanko were too far away and Natalie was certain nobody would be able to tell that she was tied and gagged. If she fell into the water it would be impossible to swim.

  All she could do was sit helplessly while her mind remained alert to potential escape. They had to come ashore shortly. Vanko couldn’t mean to keep her in a boat in the middle of the sea, could he? Unless that was the plan, to dump her in the water, once Anton found them, but too far away for Anton to go after her.

  She studied him. That type of death would not give him any satisfaction. Anton might hold out hope that she survived, even though they all knew it would be impossible. No, she suspected Vanko intended to shoot her so she could die in Anton’s arms, if that, while he watched. At least she would be able to tell Anton she loved him one last time, if Vanko allowed the gag to be removed.

  Weariness tugged at her. Natalie had been exhausted before encountering Vanko, but how could she want to sleep at a time like this? Waves sloshed over the sides and there was water in the bottom of the boat, soaking through her skirts. The wind continued to whip her hair and she grew colder with each moment. Vanko intended to kill her and she was cold, wet and miserable. Yet her eyes grew heavy and she could not keep them open.

  Natalie would have laughed if she weren’t gagged. How many women were kidnapped twice in one month? At least last time she had awakened in a warm bed with Anton. Her face and body warmed at the memory of his arms about her and the way he had loved her through the night. Would she and Anton ever experience the joy of being together again?

  Tears pricked her eyes at the loss of what could be. She would not cry. She would rest and find a way out of this situation. She had her husband back and she was going to fight to hold onto her future.

  There was nothing that could be done about her situation now and perhaps rest would revive her so that she could fight for her freedom when the opportunity arose. The only reason she wasn’t panicked right now was because she was confident Vanko would not let anything happen to her until Anton was there to witness her demise.

  The boat bumping a dock woke her. She lifted her head and glanced about. She blinked and gauged the location of the moon and tried to determine how far they had gone. It was impossible to tell and she had no idea where they were.

  Vanko jumped out of the boat then tied it to the end of the dock with a rope before getting back down and untying her feet. He assisted her out of the boat and prodded her up the path to a large, dark house. It sat further
back from the sea and rose three stories. There were no lights inside.

  Natalie shivered against the wind that whipped her hair in every direction and the coldness of her damp skirt as they reached the door. Hopefully, Vanko would light a fire. It would be impossible to get warm otherwise.

  He picked the lock then pulled his gun as he pushed the door open.

  Had Vanko not been here previously to know if anyone was in residence? As much as Natalie wished to be rescued, she didn’t want to see anyone shot either. If only she wasn’t gagged she would scream for help, alerting anyone who may be sleeping.

  Grasping her arm, Vanko led her into what was probably a sitting room, but as it was dark, she wasn’t exactly sure. They stopped and his hand left her elbow. Natalie would have tried to escape, but she couldn’t tell which direction she should run.

  She hated being this helpless. Vanko struck a flint and light flared. She closed her eyes against the pain of the sudden brightness and then slowly opened them. He had lit a lamp and was moving across the room to what she assumed was to light another. She eyed the opening to the parlor. Beyond that was the door. Did she risk running?

  Natalie glanced back over her shoulder. Vanko was bent, gathering firewood. She took a quiet step toward the door and then another. Her heart pounded and she was certain he must be able to hear it. Her pulse hammered in her ears as she edged closer and closer to the door.

  “Come back here, Natasha.”

  Defeat rushed through her and though she didn’t move backward, she didn’t return to him either. Would he tie her feet again? She should have stayed in place and waited until he had untied her hands and possibly removed the gag. At least she should have waited until he wasn’t as alert.

  Damn and blast, she had to get out of here. She had to find Anton and warn him, but how? She didn’t know where she was.

  “Warm yourself and dry that dress.”

  Vanko had started a fire.

  “I don’t want you dying of an illness before your husband can attempt to rescue you.”