by Anne Herries
‘She went walking this morning, sir. I saw her stop and speak to one of the gardeners—well, properly speaking he was one of the men set on to watch over her. I heard her tell him she was only going as far as the folly.’
‘Has anyone been to look for her there?’
‘I spoke to your butler and he said the men would search the gardens and park, so I imagine they will go to the folly, sir.’
‘Yes.’ Jack looked thoughtful. ‘She would think it safe there with so many of our men about—but it is almost a wilderness and possible for a man to stay hidden there. We have to find her, Jeb. I fear what he might do to her.’
‘It can’t be Lord Harding, sir. Word came only this morning—he passed away ten days ago. He was thought to be recovering, but then something happened—your agent wasn’t exactly sure, but he understands Harding had a visitor who may have upset him. Sounds of a quarrel were heard which led to a further violent seizure and his death.’
A frown creased Jack’s brow. ‘Yes, that fits the picture I had begun to build. Harding may have paid someone to make another attempt on my life, but...Charlie’s abduction was carefully planned. Whoever it was has been watching and waiting for his moment.’
‘Why would he take her, sir? Do you think it is a warning to you—or for a ransom?’
‘Would that it were merely the ransom,’ Jack said, a nerve twitching in his throat. ‘If anything happens to her, I shall not forgive myself. I should have seen this coming. I should have sent her home until I knew this was over.’
‘I doubt he’ll harm her, sir. What benefit would it be to him?’
Jack nodded, eyes narrowed in thought. ‘The night my father died, did you see the faces of any of those rogues?’
‘They were all masked, sir,’ Jeb replied, ‘but one of them pulled his muffler down to answer Harding when he gave the instructions for the coach to be sent over the edge...and, yes, I saw his face clear.’ Jeb frowned, then, ‘He had the look of a gentleman. Perhaps one of Harding’s friends?’
‘Yes, I think you may have hit upon it,’ Jack said and pressed the heel of his hand to his temple as he tried to pluck a thought from his jumbled memory. ‘There was someone in London...a man who was always with him. I remember that I confronted him over something.’ He shook his head and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment in pain. ‘Never mind, it will come to me.’
‘Harding must have had many acquaintances, my lord—but I do not recall the man I saw that night being at the club when you challenged him. Though to be honest I did not look at anyone else much.’
‘Perhaps he was not...’ Jack sighed and then a knock sounded and the next moment someone poked his head round the door.
‘May I come in?’ Phipps asked. ‘I rode over to visit with me cousin and was told of your injury. I understand you wish to speak with me?’
‘I’ll go and join in the search,’ Jeb said. ‘If you require anything more, my lord?’
‘No, go and join the search. I’ll speak to you later.’
‘Well,’ Phipps said, approaching the bed after Jeb had gone. ‘I do not like the sound of this, Jack. Someone wants you dead, or out of the way at least—and what’s this about a search?’
‘Charlotte may be missing,’ Jack said. ‘The damnable thing is that I’m stuck here and cannot look for her myself.’
‘Yes, that must irk you,’ Phipps agreed. ‘I’m more than willing to assist in any way. I’ll ride round the villages and ask if anyone has seen anything of her, if you wish?’
‘She would not have left the estate after what happened yesterday,’ Jack said. He rubbed at his shoulder and cursed. ‘Do you recall in London—there was a man always at Harding’s side, the pair of them went most places together. I’m damned if I can remember his name.’
‘Do you mean Patterson? Thickset fellow, not ill looking, but sails close to the wind. I heard that he left town in a hurry after Harding had that seizure and only just ahead of his creditors.’
Jack’s frown cleared and he grinned. ‘Thanks, Phipps, it had slipped my mind for a moment, but it was him. In debt, was he? I hadn’t heard that.’
‘You were too busy with other things,’ Phipps said and gave him a hard look. ‘Do you not think it is time you took me into your confidence, old fellow? I’d swear there’s more going on here than I yet know.’
Jack hesitated, then nodded and beckoned him closer. ‘Yes, well, I do not wish everyone to know, but there is an old mystery and one I am determined to solve...’
* * *
Despite the advice of the physician, who called to see how he was the next morning, Jack was shaved and dressed when Phipps arrived. He’d brought his cousin and some of his grooms with him, for they were going to spread the search out beyond the estate. Every inch of it had been searched the previous afternoon and evening, but apart from a small scrap of silk on a rose bush, no further trace of Charlotte had been found.
‘We’ll find her,’ Phipps assured him. ‘He won’t harm her, Jack. The man isn’t a fool. He must know that you would not rest until he was caught and punished. No, he wants something from you and he’s taken her as his surety for payment.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ Jack said, grimacing as he felt the pain in his shoulder.
‘Are you sure you should be up?’
‘It’s merely soreness from the wound itself,’ Jack stated firmly. ‘Yesterday I could hardly stand, but I’m all right to join the search now.’
‘Would it not be better if you waited here? In case there is a ransom note?’
‘I can’t ride, but Hillsborough will drive me,’ Jack said. ‘There are places I know...secret hidden places that others might not think to look. I can’t just stay here not knowing whether she is—’ He choked off the words. ‘If anything happens to her...’
‘You really care for her.’ Phipps looked at him in surprise. ‘In town I wasn’t sure. You’ve never been one for romance. I thought you were a confirmed bachelor for a long time, though I knew you’d have to marry for an heir. I thought that was it— She was the kind of girl who would give you an heir without being too much of the clinging wife, content with what you could give her...’
Jack’s gaze narrowed. ‘You thought she accepted me for the title and fortune?’
His memory was still hazy, still jumbled. Charlotte herself had told him that it was to be a marriage of convenience and perhaps that was all it had been. Yet he’d felt that she cared for him deeply and he...these past few days he’d felt something stronger than mere liking.
‘It was the impression you gave me, Jack. No offence. I did not think it a love match then, for neither of you gave any sign of it.’
‘I’m not offended,’ Jack said, but was thoughtful. ‘Perhaps it may have started that way, but I find it almost impossible to think of a future without her.’
Jack spoke instinctively, yet Phipps had raised a tiny seed of doubt in his mind. He did not truly know Charlotte and she was a self-confessed adventuress in that she had been willing to take that necklace by stealth. Could he be certain that she was the charming innocent girl he’d thought her and not a scheming adventuress? Had she taken him just for his fortune?
‘She is the woman I intended to marry.’ His inner instinct told him that he must continue with his plans. ‘If she has been abducted, I shall not rest until I find her.’
‘Then I wish you much happiness for the future, and I give you my word we’ll find her—and we’ll get to the bottom of your father’s death as well. You have a lot of friends, Jack, there isn’t one of us that wouldn’t answer your call. All you have to do is make it.’
‘Thank you.’ Jack’s smile was grateful and yet a little wistful. ‘I just pray that we find her alive and unharmed. The rest seems hardly to matter at the moment.’
Chapter Fourteen
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When Charlotte opened her eyes it was to pitch-blackness. She was instantly aware of a dull headache and a nasty taste in her mouth. She moved cautiously and realised that she was lying on the ground on a blanket and what she thought might be a bundle of straw, which pricked her flesh.
Where on earth was she? She sat up in sudden fear and hit her head on something hard. Smothering the cry that rose to her lips, she tried to remember what had happened to her. She’d been thinking of picking some roses for Jack’s room when...someone came up behind her. She’d been rendered unconscious by something foul...strong, like ether, she thought. Whoever had put that filthy stuff over her nose and mouth must have brought her here—wherever she was.
Now that her first panic was over, Charlotte began to think and take note of what she could smell and hear. It was impossible to see, but she could move and feel, and she guessed that she was lying on boards of some kind, a heap of straw covered by a blanket was the only bed she had. No wonder she ached everywhere. She must have been lying here for hours. Her sense of smell was acute and she thought she must be in a barn, because as well as the smell of straw she could smell stronger odours...horses and their waste. As if to confirm her suspicions, she heard a soft nicker, and then a faint shaft of light came through a crack above her and she realised that she was in the loft of a stable.
Thank goodness she had not tried to find her way in the dark for she could easily have fallen over the edge. She moved her legs and arms, discovering that thick ropes bound her. Her wrists and ankles felt sore for whoever had captured her had tied her securely. She’d been heavily drugged and her captor had left her here, where he thought she must be safe for a few hours. Where was he—here in the stable?
‘Are you there?’ she whispered in a croaking voice that sounded nothing like her own. Her throat was dry and sore and she was aware of a strong desire for water. ‘I need a drink of water...’
No reply came and the small amount of light disappeared as swiftly as it had come. Charlotte was afraid to move lest she slip over the edge, but whatever was providing the light obliged her by coming back and stronger than before. She thought it must be the moon, sliding in and out behind the clouds.
She must take her chance now, because everyone would be worried about her. She was worried for Jack. He would think she did not wish to visit him... No, of course he wouldn’t; they would not tell him while he was ill. The thought comforted her. She did not want him to lie there and worry about her, because she was going to get out of here herself.
The safest way to explore her prison was to edge herself forward on her bottom, Charlotte decided, for with her ankles bound she could not stand. She didn’t think the loft was high enough for her to stand in any case. Somehow she must find a way of getting free of these ropes. She tried to pull her wrists apart and found they gave a little, but no matter how hard she tugged they would not come free. Inching forward on her bottom, she sat on something hard and gave a cry as a sharp point pricked her flesh.
It must be some kind of instrument used in the stables. Wriggling off it, she leaned over to see and discovered that someone had carelessly left a long blade after using it to cut string from the bales of straw used for bedding. Had her hands been bound behind her, she did not think she could have managed to pick up the long curved blade, but because they were tied before her, she was able to get the handle, secure it with her knees and position the blade against the ropes.
The only way she could hope to cut them was to rub the rope against the sharp edge and each time she did so, she felt the sting of the hemp cutting into her flesh, but slowly, painfully, she felt the threads of the rope give way and after an age had passed, it gave way sufficiently for her to slip first one hand and then the other free. She felt the stickiness of blood and knew that she’d cut herself while slicing through the rope, but her fingers found only a small graze and, though it stung terribly, she did not think she would come to harm, for the blade had been well sharpened and was not rusty.
Once her hands were free it was the work of moments to cut the rope binding her ankles. As the last strand fell away, she drew a sigh of relief. Her captor must believe her well and truly secured or he would not have left her alone in the stable, but at any moment he might come to make sure she was still drugged.
She must get out of here! If only the light were better, for in the dark she could easily fall and break a limb or even her neck. How to descend to the stable itself? There must have been a ladder, she reasoned, for her abductor could not have got her up here without one.
There were sacks of what felt like grain or some kind of feed for the horses. By crawling cautiously on her hands and knees, she discovered that the piles were high at the back of her, and lower towards the front, so she reasoned that must mean the lower piles were nearer the edge. It wasn’t possible to see the edge of the loft floor, and every now and then she had to stop because the moon went behind another cloud and the loft became pitch-black. Eventually, she found the edge; reaching very carefully in front of her and moving slowly, she crawled from one side of the large stable block to the other. The ladder had been taken away. Of course it had. If she was fool enough to jump, she could break her leg or even her neck.
Damn him! Charlotte felt the anger rising inside her. What kind of a man would abduct a defenceless woman and leave her in a barn alone, knowing that if she stumbled in the dark she could fall to her death? Clearly he did not care what happened to her. Or perhaps he’d thought she would stay drugged for ages and meant to return in the morning?
Well, she wasn’t still unconscious and she was damned if she was going to stay here and wait for him to decide what to do with her. Her head might ache and she might feel sick, but somehow she was going to get out of this place.
Suddenly, Charlotte laughed. She wasn’t a defenceless woman and if she could climb up wisteria clinging to the wall of a house, she could almost certainly get down from this stupid loft. It was a wooden floor and therefore it had to be supported by struts, vertical as well as horizontal. As the moon lit up her prison again, she hung over the edge and looked down; there was a wooden post just a little to her right, and, of course, a wooden structure separating the horses’ stalls one from the other.
Moving cautiously to her right, she pulled up her skirts and tucked them into her sash so that her legs were free, then she cautiously put one leg over the edge, moving it until she felt the wooden post. She slid her foot down and then kicked out until she felt the wooden structure of the partition. Lowering her other leg, she curled it round the post as she let go, and caught at it with her hands, sliding her body down. It was rough and she felt the splinters enter her flesh and gave a cry of pain. The horse in the nearest stall nickered at her and she made soothing noises. For a moment as she let go of the post she teetered and then fell across the soft warm back of the unfortunate horse. It snorted uneasily and moved as if startled, but she soothed it and, sliding down to the straw at its feet, stroked the long back and then its nose. The horse quietened, nickering again as if welcoming the company.
Charlotte felt her way to the front of the stall and found the door. Both the top and bottom half were closed and bolted from the inside, but it was the work of a moment to pull them back. As soon as she opened the top half, the moonlight showed her there were three horses in the stables and she noticed the tack hanging on one wall near a side door that was used as the entrance to the stable. It was a secure way of keeping the horses, for one must enter that way to gain access rather than through the individual stalls. What her captor had not considered was that she was already inside.
An idea came: if she let the other horses go free it would serve to delay any attempt to follow her. She took a bridle and saddle, and slipped them onto the horse that had seemed to welcome her. Then she walked along the stables and unbolted all the doors before leading her horse out into what appeared to be a farmyard, though a muc
h-neglected one, with no sign of any other beasts. She mounted her horse and then watched as the other horses emerged from their stables. Surprised at their sudden freedom, they did not move until she suddenly sent them scattering as she kicked her mount’s flanks and dashed past on her way to the meadow she could see beyond the open gate.
She heard a shout as she cantered through the stable yard, realising that someone had roused and discovered her escape. Bending over her horse’s neck instinctively, Charlotte flinched as a shot whistled past her head. She kicked lightly at the horse’s flanks, urging it forward towards the open meadow and started across it; the two loose horses, startled by the shot, followed close behind her. More loud voices had joined the first and another shot was fired. Her own horse was panicked and rushed on without encouragement from her, Charlotte hanging on for dear life, the loose horses keeping pace as they fled across the wide meadow. Charlotte hoped that they would follow the instinct of their kind and keep up with her for as long as possible, because her captors might try to follow. They could not hope to catch her on foot, but once the horses were caught would surely scour the countryside looking for her.
Her elation kept her going for some minutes. She saw a gate looming ahead of her and looked for some other way of leaving the meadow, but decided that it was her only exit. Gritting her teeth, she rode at the gate and to her relief her horse soared over it, one of the loose horses following her. Charlotte’s stomach seemed to fall away from her at some point. She felt slightly sick and dizzy by the time all four feet were on the ground again, but ahead of her was a wide expanse of open ground and she bent over her horse, urging it on. One loose horse kept pace for several minutes, though the other must be still in the meadow. One of the men might try to follow, but she had a head start and he would first need to catch the horse.
She had no idea of where she was and in the moonlight the countryside looked ghostly and vast. Charlotte was not even sure she was riding in the right direction, but she needed to get as far away as she could. In the morning she would find someone who could tell her the way to Ellingham. For now all she needed to do was to put as much distance as she could between her and anyone who might pursue her.
