The Prisoner of Silverwood Castle

by Marie Treanor

“Then my wife will come, but I warn you, she’ll complain—constantly—until we get there. And I don’t mean to spare the horses.”

  “Neither do I,” I said cordially. “I shall sneak away at first light and meet you…where? On the central bridge?” I took a coin purse from my reticule and pressed it into his hand. “If you can acquire the best horses, I will pay.”

  Dr. Alcuin hesitated. But I could see that the money was welcome, if not necessary, to achieve the kind of equipage we needed for speed and comfort. He nodded curtly and turned away. “Mr. Haggard, I hope you plan to write about this exhibition, for I feel it is most enlightening…”

  I walked back through the large, empty room, inclining my head pleasantly to the couple entering as I left. My heart was beating fast because I was saving him.

  Chapter Ten

  I thought quite hard about leaving Augusta a note simply saying I was returning to Silberwald Castle and would go home from there. But she was bound to tell the duke and probably the baroness, and I didn’t want to be pursued or to push them into drastic action against Kasimir, even if they’d no chance of reaching him before we did.

  Besides, whatever the consequences for Augusta of Kasimir’s freedom, I couldn’t really leave her to face it alone. It was just my own cowardice that wanted to leave before Kasimir passed over me for a more suitable wife. But if he was free, surely I could face anything and be glad.

  I resolved to write to her instead from the castle, once I knew what would happen. In Rundberg, surely, the British ambassador would protect her, whatever happened.

  So, when the servants were only just beginning to rise, I hid a small bag under my cloak and slipped downstairs and out of the palace, past the sleepy soldiers on guard duty, and hurried across the square and along the street to the central bridge.

  A closed carriage and four horses waited there. I hurried towards it, my heart drumming. What if this were some trap that I’d fallen into? Would the duke himself step out of the coach and accuse me of treachery? Banish me to prison?

  You can’t, I told the imaginary Leopold defiantly. You’re not even the real duke!

  A head stuck out of the carriage window, and it wasn’t my brother-in-law’s. With relief, I all but ran the last few steps while the door opened wide. I leapt in without the benefit of the steps and all but crashed onto the seat facing Dr. Alcuin and a plump lady of middle years, who wore an enormous bonnet and an anxious expression.

  The doctor rapped on the carriage roof with his cane, and the carriage moved forward. I smiled apologetically at the plump lady. “Frau Alcuin? I’m Guin Harvey. Thank you so much for agreeing to come. The doctor told me how you dislike travel, so I’m doubly grateful.”

  “If it’s true that boy is still alive, it will be worth anything,” Frau Alcuin said stoically.

  “I agree,” I said warmly. “But if there’s anything at all I can do to make your journey more comfortable, you must tell me.”

  Frau Alcuin looked gratified. Her husband looked stunned, as if he wasn’t used to any kind of consideration for people of their rank from people of mine.

  “My lady, she will be fine,” he said, all but scowling at his wife. “She may hate travelling, but she survives it. Likewise, she hates the sight of blood, and yet she is a fine nurse, and has assisted me with surgical operations since she was young.”

  “It’s true,” Frau Alcuin said, raising a handkerchief to her lips. “I am constantly required to do what I dislike, and yet so far, I have risen to the task.” She sniffed and repeated, “So far.”

  “I have every faith in you,” I said earnestly. “I suppose it a woman’s lot to do so.”

  She lowered the handkerchief to regard me with eyes quite as intelligent as her husband’s. “And a man’s,” she said. “That is life, and we must all do what is right if we can. You seem a very adventurous young lady.”

  I blinked at the sudden change of subject. “Not really. I’ve always been rather sheltered and restricted, although being the youngest, I could often do what I wished without anyone noticing. I never had an adventure as such until I came to Silberwald.”

  “You must have all the young men of the court eating out of your hand.”

  I laughed. “Hardly. Though people have been kind to me.” Not all people, admittedly, but strangers like Bernhard von Gerritzen and Colonel Friedrich had made up for it. “I will be sorry to leave Silberwald.”

  “You mean to leave us?” Frau Alcuin sat back in surprise. “Perhaps you have a suitor in England, impatiently awaiting your return.”

  I shook my head. “You have an odd notion of me, Frau Alcuin.” In fact, it struck me that she was deliberately, if subtly, acquiring a more exact idea of my character. She wanted to find out if I was lonely, if male admiration—or lack of it, presumably—went to my head. In short, if I was subject to fantasies.

  Which, of course, I was. I had notebooks full of them. My only saving grace was that I had never confused them with real life, even if I had once preferred them.

  * * * * *

  We spent the night at a comfortable inn, where the Alcuins introduced me without a blink as their niece. Although I hadn’t thought about it before, I understood the necessity of the deception.

  After a simple, tasty meal, we retired early. I’ve never understood why travelling, which mostly involves sitting still, should be quite so exhausting, but after a day of it, with only short stops to change horses, stretch our legs, and refresh, I fell asleep almost at once. I barely had time to wonder if Augusta or anyone else had noticed my absence. I wondered ruefully if they’d look for me, although I thought Augusta would be more annoyed than anxious.

  I woke with the dawn, even before Frau Alcuin tapped on my door. Without pausing for more than a cup of coffee and some bread and ham, we set off again.

  “We’re making good time,” Dr. Alcuin approved. “The road is hillier from here, of course, but we should still reach the castle well before nightfall.”

  “It took us three days to travel the same distance in the opposite direction,” I volunteered.

  “At a more comfortable pace,” Frau Alcuin said accusingly.

  “We weren’t in a hurry,” I conceded. “Don’t you think a railway between Rundberg and Silberwald Castle would be useful?”

  “I believe there’s talk of it,” Dr. Alcuin said vaguely. “Did you not travel much of the way from London by railway?”

  “Yes, we did. I was surprised not to find any in Silberwald.”

  “The old duke invested in canal projects instead.”

  I learned a lot from the Alcuins about the state of the country and the aspirations of the ordinary people. It was fascinating to me, and I enjoyed their company far more than I imagined I would. However, as the day went on, I became more and more distracted. Soon we’d be at the castle; I could see Kasimir again, and Dr. Alcuin would order his release…or at least begin the process.

  Maddeningly, a damaged wheel slowed us down in the afternoon, and we had to wait an hour to have it repaired. So, in fact, it was growing dark as we approached the castle. Its sheer beauty caught at my breath all over again. Even on a cloudy evening in failing light, a halo of silver seemed to surround its glowing stone towers. If it still resembled a fairy-tale castle, I thought now that tonight it looked more as if it belonged to the wicked villain of the story rather than the handsome prince.

  “Set us down at the village inn,” Dr. Alcuin advised. “That way, there will be no suspicion from castle staff who may recognize me and give the game away before we’re ready.”

  “You believe me now,” I observed with a hint of triumph.

  “My mind is open,” Dr. Alcuin said with dignity. “I will send to the local doctor—it will take two of us to attest to your prisoner’s identity and state of health—and we’ll come to the castle together first thing in the morning. You must be on hand t
o be sure we gain admittance.”

  “Oh, I will,” I said with unshakeable determination. Without the duke or the baroness to override my orders, no one was going to stop this. I frowned. “But, you know, I don’t believe there is an inn in the village. There is only a tavern—”

  “It has a couple of rooms.”

  “It may, but I doubt Frau Alcuin will be quite comfortable—”

  To my surprise, Frau Alcuin herself interrupted with quite genuine laughter. “Bless you, Lady Guin, I’ve stayed in much worse. Don’t you worry about me!”

  It seemed that now the torture of travelling was about to end, nothing could upset her. In fact, as the carriage slowed and rumbled into the village street, it was Dr. Alcuin himself who looked upset.

  “Are you quite well, sir?” I asked him anxiously.

  He smoothed out his frown with deliberation, then dragged his brow back down. “I’m worried,” he said frankly.

  “About Kasimir.”

  “If it is Kasimir. You believe too much. He might never have been insane—although there was a time it could probably have gone either way for him. And he may never have been incapable of ruling the duchy. But he is not necessarily the man you think him. Kasimir talked a lot, thought more, and hid most of all. He was a secretive boy. Never think you understand him.”

  “I don’t,” I protested, but all the same, his warning made me uneasy, much as my dream of a darker, wickeder Kasimir had. Because most of the time, I really did think I understood him. If he wasn’t Kasimir, I would be devastated. If he was Kasimir and had been somehow fooling me, using me to wreak worse havoc on his people than his uncle already had… I didn’t know what I would do.

  I shook my doubts off as the coach drew up outside the tavern and the Alcuins got out. It was hardly unusual for carriages to pass through here, or for people of their rank to put up in the village, I supposed. Certainly, the few people abroad didn’t pay much attention.

  The coach rumbled on up the road to the castle, and my heart beat and beat with anticipation. And just a trace of fear.

  There was a slight delay at the gate. I pushed down the window to talk to the guards. There was mist in the air, swirling languidly about the castle turrets, drifting in wisps about the road and the gate. It made the air cold and ominous, and I shivered, drawing my travelling cloak closer around my throat.

  “Lady Guinevere Harvey,” I said, for once giving myself my full name and title. “The duchess’s sister, as you know.”

  The soldiers clearly recognized me. “Apologies, my lady,” the older one said stiffly. “We weren’t told to expect you.”

  “No matter,” I said kindly, as if I forgave him.

  He even looked relieved. His companion told the coachman to drive on, and we rumbled on up the winding drive and under the arch into the courtyard. The well-trained servants appeared out of the mist at once to hold the horses and open the carriage door for me.

  I stepped down and swept regally inside. In the massive entrance hall, poorly lit by the standards of my previous visit, a thin woman in a dark dress and white cap hurried towards me. I recognised her, though I didn’t know her name. I had vaguely understood her to be the equivalent of the housekeeper. We had never spoken.

  “My lady,” she greeted me. “How unexpected! Please forgive us for being so unprepared.”

  “It was a sudden decision,” I said. Although I had never paid much attention to strict etiquette, I had absorbed that it was never necessary for the great to explain themselves to lesser mortals. Since, at this moment, I certainly didn’t want to, I kept my aloof, great-lady persona for just a little longer.

  “I have no room prepared for you,” the housekeeper said, frowning with worry.

  “No matter. My old room will be fine. Providing there are sheets on the bed, I shall be happy!”

  “Oh yes, my lady, of course. And would you care to dine in Her Highness’s dining room?”

  “No, that won’t be necessary. Please just have a tray sent to my room.”

  “In about an hour, my lady?”

  “Excellent,” I said, already sweeping towards the staircase as if I belonged here. And in a funny sort of way, I felt I did. It almost felt like coming home, but with an extra surge of excitement in my veins. Kasimir, Kasimir.

  My old room looked sparser than ever. I set down the candle I’d taken from the table at the top of the main staircase, and threw open the shutters on the familiar view of the wooded hills. The trees looked more silver than ever in the lowering mist. I didn’t open the window.

  The bed had been stripped. I presumed the maids would be along in a moment with fresh sheets. I removed my cloak and bonnet and hung them on a wardrobe hook.

  Kasimir, Kasimir. It was a week since I’d left him. How would he be? Did they trouble to drug him when no one else was in residence? How many of the staff even knew he was there? Very few, I guessed. Just Dieter and the “man”, whoever he was.

  Would Kasimir still be cheerful and hopeful, and delighted with what I’d done? Or would he be sleepy and inarticulate? I was sure I could waken him from such a state. I’d done it before, when he’d made love to me, and my body burned with the desire to wake him in such a way again.

  I had to force myself to wait for the maids to make up my bed, which they did only a few minutes after my arrival. One was the same girl who’d first told me the house was haunted, but she acknowledged me with no more than a quick, shy smile. While they worked in silence, I gazed out the window and tried to appear relaxed.

  When they’d gone, I hesitated. I had nearly an hour until they’d bring my dinner. I could wash in the water the maids had brought—warm water for the first time ever—and change into the clean gown I’d brought in my travelling bag. Although I was never going to be a pretty woman, I wanted to look my best for him…

  Which is what decided me. I refused to play the games I’d always despised in my sisters and fellow debutantes of the London season. Taking my chance, I seized the candle and left my room, hurrying through the dark passages in the old part of the castle, following the route that seemed permanently ingrained now on my memory.

  The old, disused hall was quiet. I wondered if he’d be locked in his cell, or in the room where I’d left him, reading, maybe even thinking of me a little. I swallowed, and climbed the stairs as silently as I could. My flickering candle showed the door on the first landing, where the gaoler Dieter seemed to live, was closed. The second door was open.

  Silence filled my ears as I climbed towards it. I felt as if my heart would jump out of my mouth. Kasimir, Kasimir.

  It was empty. In fact, the silence began to oppress me with a new feeling of unspecific dread. I remembered the beast I’d never explained—except to wonder if it had truly been Kasimir’s groans of agony from abuse or nightmares. I remembered the ghostly figures I’d seen in my room, including Kasimir himself. I’d come to put those illusions down to the tea, but now I wondered if they hadn’t been real, if the castle wasn’t truly haunted. I couldn’t explain the formless Kasimir walking through walls, kissing me, except as tricks of my mind, but something about this place now made me think of those illusions, to feel they were connected…

  The shadow from my candle flame licked up the wall as I set my foot on the first dark, narrow step to his cell. The darkness seemed to be full of shapes that formed and disintegrated before I could identify them. I hurried on, knowing only that one glimpse of Kasimir would cause my silly fears to vanish.

  The cell door stood open. With relief, I held my candle high and walked in.

  “Kasimir?” I said huskily. I swallowed. “Kasimir! Are you there?”

  A stupid question. He wasn’t. The room was empty. Even his bed had gone.

  Blood sang in my ears. I held on to the door for support as the world seemed to rock and then, gradually, right itself. Gone.

 
But I hadn’t looked everywhere. In a sudden rush of motion, I spun around and tried to run out the door. But it was as if someone held on to my skirts, slowing me down, stopping me, like one of those dreams where you can never reach your destination. With a rush of quite different fear, I knew someone, something was behind me. A noise began, a rumble, almost a snarl, surely the beast I’d never seen.

  I let out a howl of my own and broke free, only just avoiding dropping my candle as I dashed from the cell at last and back down the stairs, through the room with the empty table and on downward to the first landing. Without hesitation, I pushed at the door which swung open at once. I hurried through into darkness.

  It was some kind of living space. I glimpsed a narrow bed by the light of my shaking candle, a chair, a pantry, all empty. Another narrow flight of stairs led downwards, so I followed those until I came to another door, which also opened easily—into fresh air.

  This was the blocked-off area of the garden between the high walls and hedges, which Kasimir had climbed the night of the masquerade ball. My heart thundered, in case I ran into Dieter. But since the man was deaf, I called softly for Kasimir.

  No one answered as I floundered among the overgrown bushes.

  This was silly. If Kasimir was here, he’d see my light, he’d hear my call. In panic now, I ran back inside without closing the door behind me.

  As I rushed back up the steps to the main staircase, I tried desperately to think what to do next. They must have moved him. They must have known somehow that I’d found him, and moved him somewhere else.

  Or killed him.

  The possibility hit me like a blow in the stomach. I stopped in my tracks, holding on to the cold stone wall and gasping for breath.

  I’m too late! Oh God, don’t let me be too late…

  I hurtled downstairs to the old hall. I had to ask questions, find out who had left the castle and when, where they’d gone. I had to get to Dr. Alcuin at once, enlist his help, get the villagers involved in the search for Kasimir.

  In the middle of the old hall, I stopped dead. Light spilled in from the passage, illuminating a figure in a long, hooded cloak.