The little room was stifling and I began to feel a trifle faint. I remembered what the old General had said yesterday about my being unlikely to swoon. Only yesterday! Already it seemed a long way off.
‘That Susan is obviously your little helper,’ I said. ‘Did you have to seduce her first?’
‘She succumbed remarkably quickly – those sorts of girls always do. Pretty enough but no brain. Ever so eager to run little errands for me – to bring me food and drink, carry messages and so forth. She’s used to clumsy pawing from enamoured footmen and grooms so a little finesse makes no end of an impression.’
‘I imagine you told her to start a rumour about the hermit’s ghost.’
‘Yes, I had to coach her, of course, but I believe she did it rather well. The hermit’s spare robe has been very useful – an excellent disguise and likely to add to rumours of a phantom monk.
‘Once I have disposed of you and your friend I shall be off to Devon to claim my inheritance. There will then be nothing to stand in my way – nothing proved anyway.’
‘It’s strange,’ I said, anxious to keep him talking. ‘I actually liked you at first.’
‘Well, I liked you – still do, as a matter of fact. I had to show an interest in one of the females of the party to detract from Louisa. At first I thought of Sophie but Rowland had collared her. Elinor’s too plain and prickly but you are pretty and clever – an irresistible combination. Pity you’re so attracted by the military or our flirtation might have led to something really enjoyable.’
‘It was never a flirtation and it couldn’t have led anywhere.’
‘Perhaps not, but poor Louisa had to be dealt with first; she had begun to get very tiresome and demanding even before she started asking awkward questions. She actually thought I’d marry her when I’d inherited my fortune – a penniless widow fifteen years my senior and rather silly and empty-headed to boot! I’ve lived on my wits for most of my life and I wasn’t going to fall for that.’
‘But was it necessary to kill the poor woman?’
‘Of course it was. I could have shut her up by marrying her but that was never what I had in mind. She was beginning to disgust me.’
He stopped suddenly. I had heard it too: the faint creak of the Tapestry Room door opening and closing. He slipped behind my chair, put his arm across my throat and held the pistol to my head.
‘Not a word!’ he hissed.
The door opened and a voice spoke my name. Colonel Hartley’s face changed in an instant from pleased anticipation to shock and horror. He summed up the situation in a few seconds.
‘Let her go,’ he said quietly. ‘Let her go and you can do what you like with me.’
‘The age of chivalry is not dead!’ exclaimed Frank Lawrence mockingly. ‘Why should I do that when I can do what I like with both of you?’
‘Are you all right, Charlotte? Has he hurt you in any way?’
‘No – don’t worry about me.’
‘What sweet concern for each other! A pity you won’t live long enough to enjoy the consequences.’
‘What are you going to do with us?’ Colonel Hartley was remarkably calm as though he was asking the time of day.
‘Oh, you’ll soon find out. Everything is in readiness. I’m not attempting to mimic suicide or accident this time. You’ll simply disappear.’
‘Both of us?’
‘Oh yes – I’ll let you die together so you can enjoy your last moments in each others’ arms – all three of them. Actually it will be a great deal longer than moments – rather drawn-out and unpleasant but you can comfort each other, I’m sure.’
‘But you can’t possibly kill two more people and escape scot-free,’ I said, wondering desperately what he had in store for us. ‘People will search – there’ll be a great hue and cry.’
‘By which time I’ll be miles away. And it may be thought you’ve run away together – to Gretna Green, perhaps.’
‘Why on earth would we do that?’ asked Colonel Hartley. ‘If we wanted to marry we could do it in the usual way with everyone’s approval, I’ve no doubt.’
‘I don’t really care. No one knows I’m here except that stupid Susan and I may take her with me to keep her quiet. It would be quite a good subterfuge and I can always get rid of her later. Now, I’m getting rather tired of this pointless dialogue.’ He loosened his grip and backed away, still holding the pistol aimed at me.
‘Stand behind her,’ he ordered, ‘and put your hand on her shoulder where I can see.’
The Colonel stepped behind my chair and I felt the warm, firm clasp of his hand and was at once reassured. Frank backed towards an open trapdoor, kicking a stool out of the way. I realized then what it was. The heavy chest had been moved aside to reveal a small aperture in the floor.
‘Behold – the second priest-hole!’ declared Frank, with something very like glee. ‘People have been searching for this for centuries so they’re not likely to find it now. Louisa and I discovered it by accident when we tried to move the bed because she complained of a draught from the window.
‘Now, untie the lady’s hands, if you please, and we’ll find her a suitable little lodging. That’s right – don’t try any foolish tricks, Colonel, or her life will end even more speedily than I had planned and you’ll find yourself buried with a corpse. Almost like one of her ladyship’s novels.
‘Miss Tyler – or may I call you Charlotte? Come over here to this hole in the floor. You will find a ladder just inside. Climb down and stand below. There’s not much room, I’m afraid, but it will just accommodate two at a pinch, though your companion is rather large.’ For a few seconds his attention was focused entirely on me as I followed his instructions and I heard a movement across the room.
‘Don’t try anything – I warned you!’ snapped Frank.
A pair of long legs in riding boots and breeches began to descend the steps. The light from above was obliterated. Then there was a sudden scuffle as Colonel Hartley seized Frank’s ankle and yanked it hard. There was the sound of a body sprawling and then a blow. The Colonel slid down the last few rungs and the trapdoor closed above us with a slam. There was a heavy grating noise and we were in total darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
‘What happened? Did he hit you?’ I put out my hands and found his shoulder.
‘Yes, with the pistol butt – only a glancing blow but my face is rather painful so don’t touch it. Come here, my poor girl, I should never have let you get involved in this.’ He held me close and felt me trembling.
‘Try to keep calm,’ he said. ‘Let us stand here quietly until we feel a little better. The worst thing we can do is panic. We’ll wait until we are quite sure he has gone then we’ll try to escape.’
‘How?’ my voice was faint and wavering.
‘There’s a way in so there’s a way out. Lean on me until you feel stronger.’
‘I’m not at all sure leaning on you has that effect,’ I said after a short interval.
He managed to chuckle. ‘Well, it’s working wonders for me anyway.’
He rested his chin lightly on the top of my head and I closed my eyes. I thought that if only I wasn’t so frightened and we were anywhere else at all I would think this was heaven.
‘We’ll stay quiet and listen,’ he said, but we could hear nothing. It was very close and airless in the priest-hole and I wondered how long a man had been able to survive there.
‘I feel sure he’s gone,’ he said at last, ‘and I think we can have a little light on the proceedings before we try to get out. While Frank was putting you down here I managed to grab his tinderbox and a stump of a candle. We’ll both feel better when we can see our surroundings. You’ll have to strike the light, I’m afraid. It’s one of the things I can no longer accomplish.’
My hands were still shaking so much I had difficulty striking the flint and igniting the tinder, though he held the box for me and encouraged my efforts. At last we had the candle lit and looked round. There w
as barely enough room for us to stand upright.
‘Where exactly are we?’ I wondered.
‘Inside the outer wall of the house.’ He climbed the ladder and put his shoulder to the trapdoor. After several attempts that made him grunt with effort, he confessed he could lift the trapdoor no more than a fraction of an inch.
‘The blackguard has pushed the chest on top of us. I might have known!’ For the first time I heard despair in his voice.
‘How long can we survive without air?’ I asked, rather tremulously.
‘Don’t think about it.’
I looked round frantically at the walls, which all seemed to be quite solidly made of ancient brick. Then I suddenly remembered something Sophie had said – long ago, it seemed, when we first came to Lovegrove. It was the day it had rained and I had first explored the Tapestry Room and discovered the closet. I had encountered Sophie and Rowland shortly afterwards; they had been tapping the panelling around the house, searching for the second priest-hole.
‘There’s supposed to be a passage leading from the hiding place to the priory ruins,’ she had said. It was a tradition, a legend, no more, yet it did give a shred of hope.
‘What are you doing?’ he enquired.
I was holding the candle flame close to the walls, inspecting every inch. I told him what Sophie had said. ‘It’s at least worth looking,’ I said.
‘I wish you’d call me John,’ he said suddenly. ‘In these circumstances formality is ridiculous. Besides, we’ve just been a good deal closer than some married couples.’
‘I’ll call you anything you like if we can only get out of here. Look at this wall – doesn’t something appear odd?’
He was standing close behind me and he peered over my shoulder. ‘Why is it whitewashed? The other walls aren’t – though it’s a very old, dirty whitewash.’
It was indeed festooned with cobwebs and dust, but here and there was a break and grey filaments dangled in a ragged fringe where they had been torn. I knocked at the wall with my knuckles and hurt myself on rough bricks – which suddenly became smoother and gave out a loud rapping sound.
‘I think there’s a door,’ I speculated, ‘and the wood has been carved in a pattern of bricks and then everything whitewashed over.’
‘It’s been opened recently if those torn cobwebs are anything to go by. See if you can find some sort of handle.’
Nothing of the sort was visible but I discovered a small hole bored in the door. It was enough for me to gain a hold with two fingers and I pulled hard. There was a door and it opened more easily than I expected. A blast of air – dank and earthy – came to meet us. It was not fresh air by any means but it was a good deal better than what we had been breathing in the priest-hole.
‘There are steps,’ I said, peering down, ‘very steep – more like a ladder than a staircase. Do you suppose Frank has been coming and going this way?’
‘It seems likely – but let me squeeze past you and I’ll go down first if you’ll hold the candle.’
I shielded the flame with my hand, wondering what on earth I would do if it went out and I had to use the tinderbox again in pitch darkness. Colonel Hartley began to descend the steps.
‘It’s quite safe,’ he said. ‘If Frank Lawrence has been using it then it should be secure enough. You’d better keep the candle – I can’t hold it and hang on to the steps. There’s no rail so come down carefully.’
Despite the discomfort, and indeed the danger of our descent, we were both buoyed up by the hope of escape. I was hampered by my skirt, which was brushing against my poor companion’s face, so I hitched it up to my knees and tucked it into my sash.
We reached the ground at last and found ourselves in a vaulted passageway. I hastily loosened my skirt until it fell to my feet again. I thought I heard him murmur ‘Pity!’ but I could have been mistaken.
‘Only one way to go and that’s forward,’ he said. He took the candle from me and led the way.
‘How far is it from the house to the priory ruins?’ I asked. ‘About a hundred yards, do you think?’
‘Near enough and – damn – what’s this?’ He stumbled and nearly dropped the light.
‘A white cloth under my feet – can you pick it up?’
I retrieved the object, which proved to be a lace-edged pillowcase stained with blood.
‘Louisa Thorpe’s pillowcase!’ I exclaimed. ‘He must have wrapped it round her head, as you surmised, to prevent the bloodstains before he threw her down the stairs – then he got rid of it down here.’
‘Leave it for now; it can always be retrieved later if necessary. Let’s get out of here first.’
We hurried on and suddenly emerged in a vaulted underground chamber supported by heavy pillars. In the centre stood a coffin, a brand new coffin with brass plate and handles.
‘This must be right under the nave of the old priory church,’ I said, ‘so there are flagstones over our heads. How do we escape?’
‘There may be some sort of exit but I doubt it. We’d better look first and if we don’t find anything I’ll try and shift one of those flagstones. They were removed very recently so they shouldn’t be too difficult to raise.’
We were still prisoners but at least we had the hope of getting out. Above the paving which formed our roof was the sky and there were faint lines of daylight gleaming through the chinks in the stones. We searched the walls and found only a bricked-up archway which must once have led to another passage; then we again turned our attention to the coffin.
‘I’m sorry, my poor friend, but you’ll have to help us,’ said John Hartley, climbing on the coffin lid and putting his shoulder to one of the flagstones above his head. This time his efforts yielded almost immediate results. The stone grated and rumbled a little and then slid aside, letting in a glorious burst of sunlight, fresh air and birdsong.
‘I’m not at all sure I can get out,’ he said. ‘One really needs two arms – but you certainly can. Climb up here, put your hands on the edge of the aperture and I’ll heave you up from below as best I can.’
It was a struggle but I was light and agile and managed at last to scramble out. I sat for a few moments, looking down at him. His hair was wildly tousled, there was a horrible swollen contusion on his left cheekbone which distorted the scar further and he was very dirty.
I looked at my torn and filthy dress, my blackened shoes and tattered stockings; my hair was falling down my back in wild disorder and I suddenly burst out laughing, perhaps in hysterical relief.
‘What a pair we must look!’ I gasped. ‘I suppose we must go back to the house like this.’
‘You’d better fetch help, I’m not high enough to get myself out and you can’t help me on your own. See if you can find Sam Bates – he came with me when I got your note – except it wasn’t from you. Frank Lawrence must have written it but it was very convincing and after all, I’ve never seen your handwriting.’
‘Haven’t you? No, of course you haven’t. I suppose it was similar to the message I got saying you wanted to see me in the Tapestry Room closet as you’d found something of great significance.’
‘He was taking a risk, of course – he didn’t know that I hadn’t seen your writing.’
‘But Frank had – enough for him to do a reasonable forgery at least.’ I hesitated. ‘I don’t want to leave you.’
‘Then kiss me first.’
I crawled to the edge of the gap in the stones and leaned over. Our lips met briefly and then he seized me by the back of my head and kissed me again with a great deal more feeling.
‘I like you with your hair down,’ he said. ‘Now run!’
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
I fled back to the house and at once encountered Lady Denby with the Lawrences, who had returned from their visit to the village church. They stared at me in amazement.
‘Miss Tyler!’ exclaimed her ladyship. ‘What on earth has happened to you? Have you met with an accident?’
‘You could say
that. Mr Lawrence, could you go to the priory church where Colonel Hartley needs assistance? I must find his manservant.’
He took off immediately and without offering any explanations I ran on into the entrance hall where I found Sophie talking to Sam Bates.
‘The very man!’ I cried. ‘The Colonel needs you at the priory church. I’ve already sent Mr Lawrence but I doubt if he can manage on his own. You may need a ladder – he’s in the vault.’
Sam Bates did not linger to ask questions but ran outside to find his master.
‘Aunt Charlotte!’ shrieked Sophie. ‘What an earth have you been doing? I’m so relieved to see you!’ She hugged me wildly, not caring that some of the dirt and cobwebs transferred themselves to her white muslin gown.
‘We’ve been looking for you,’ she continued. ‘At least I was looking for you and couldn’t find you anywhere. Then I sent for that maid, Susan, who brought you a message. There was something odd about her manner – something sly and furtive. She told me some silly story about Sir Ralph wanting you to fetch him something from the gallery but I didn’t believe a word of it. She asked to be excused but I said she wasn’t to go until she told me the truth. I was sure something suspicious was going on.’
‘It was indeed! That was very astute of you.’
‘Aunt Charlotte, do you remember once telling me that there was nothing more despicable than striking a servant?’
‘You didn’t hit her?’
‘No – but Elinor did. She came charging into the hall and demanded to know what was going on. I told her Susan knew something of your whereabouts but wouldn’t tell. “Oh, yes she will!” said Elinor and struck her a swingeing blow across the face. The girl burst into tears – I almost felt sorry for her – and sobbed and cried and sank to the floor, but Elinor stood over her, yanked her head up by the hair and demanded to hear the whole story. She said she’d had to take a message to you to meet Colonel Hartley in the Tapestry Room. I asked her who told her to take the message but she wouldn’t say.’
The Lovegrove Hermit Page 16
