by Val Wood
The room seemed now to be filled with happiness when just a few moments before there had been anxiety and gloom.
‘I’ll go and look for Luke,’ Howard said. ‘And I’ll ask Amos to come with me and we’ll look for Edwin too,’ he added. ‘But not a word of this, I promise,’ he said as Anna cast him a glance. ‘That news is for you and his father to tell.’
And he will not be pleased, he thought as he ran down the steps and made his way to the stable block. If there is another son, Edwin will have his nose well and truly pushed out of joint.
‘Amos,’ he called. ‘Come on, we’re on a mission!’
After an early breakfast Luke had sent Mrs Moody up to Edwin’s room to tell him that he was waiting to see him. The housekeeper had returned to say that he was not there. Exasperated, he went to the stables and found Amos mucking out and not happy about it.
‘We’ll need another lad if Sam’s not coming back, sir,’ he said. ‘I can’t look after half a dozen hosses on my own, not as well as all my other jobs.’
‘I know, Amos,’ Luke said, ‘and I don’t expect you to. I’m going to fetch Mrs Kingston’s lad up from Lower Farm until I’ve decided what to do about Sam.’
Amos leaned on the hay fork. ‘There’ll allus be trouble if you keep Sam on here after what’s happened, sir. Mr Edwin won’t tolerate him an’ that’s a fact.’
Luke nodded. He’d known Amos for so long that he trusted his judgement. Amos had worked for Luke’s uncle when he was a boy and had stayed on when Luke took over.
‘Sam’s borrowed Miss Polly’s hoss, by the by,’ Amos said. ‘I told him it would be all right just this once.’
Luke was startled. ‘Is he fit enough to ride?’
‘He said he was, though the lad can hardly walk,’ Amos commented. ‘I had to help him up. But he said he wanted to go and see Dora; tell her he’s not dead as she thought. Word got back to him from one of the maids that Dora had told the young ladies he’d been shot dead.’
‘Have you seen Edwin this morning?’ Luke asked.
‘Aye, he went out afore fost light. In a mighty hurry he was.’
Mm. Avoiding me, I shouldn’t wonder, Luke thought. He’ll know I’m going to issue an ultimatum.
‘I’ll go and look for him,’ he told Amos. ‘If he should get back before me, tell him I want to speak to him.’
Amos touched his forehead and went to fetch Luke’s mount. ‘I’ll tell him,’ he growled. As if he’d listen, he reflected. Good-for-nothing cur.
‘Which direction did he take?’ Luke called as he mounted.
‘Top moor,’ Amos replied. ‘As if he might be going towards Grosmont.’
Why would he be going over there, Luke wondered. To catch a train? Is he leaving home? No, he decided. He wouldn’t just leave his inheritance behind. But there was something niggling away in his subconscious. Grosmont? Someone had spoken about Grosmont recently. Who was it?
He rode to the top of what he called his moor. It was a beautiful morning. The storm of the day before had given a fresh look to the land and a distinctive aroma to the heather, and he took in a deep breath. He loved it here; had done from the moment he had first come as a boy, after which he couldn’t wait to return on every holiday from school, unlike his brother Mark who longed to get away and join the military for adventure and excitement.
His thoughts snapped back to the present as he remembered when he had last heard mention of Grosmont. Howard – or was it Sonny? He wasn’t sure – anyway, one of them had mentioned Grosmont and said that Dora’s parents lived between it and Littlebeck. And of course they did. Dora’s father sometimes came as a beater on the shoots. Was that why Edwin was heading that way? His heart gave a lurch. Surely he wasn’t going to persuade the girl to say that it wasn’t his child. What was he going to offer? Money? An incentive to lie?
‘Oh, no,’ he said aloud and urged his horse to a canter. ‘Oh, no you don’t, my boy! You’ll face up to your responsibilities or leave the district. You have my word on that.’
Edwin sat astride his horse and looked about him. He hadn’t been able to find Dora. When he heard that she had run away, he’d asked Mrs Moody where Dora’s parents lived. Running home seemed the obvious thing for such an idiot of a girl to do. He was going to offer her money to get rid of the child and go and live somewhere else. Whitby or Scarborough, perhaps, where he wasn’t known.
Mrs Moody had been reluctant to tell him at first, but he had persuaded her. ‘Come on,’ he’d said. ‘I want to find out who really is the father. Why should I get the blame?’ And she’d believed him.
‘Somewhere near Grosmont,’ she’d said. ‘Top of Black Brow, I think, but I don’t know where.’
There had been no one about to ask and he’d been out for hours. There was little habitation on the moors and he didn’t want to ride into Grosmont in case anyone recognized him. The only person he saw was an old shepherd and he was as deaf as a stone and couldn’t understand a word he was saying. But he must have read Edwin’s disdainful expression for he shook his fist at him and indicated that he should clear off back to where he came from. Edwin gestured back rudely and turned about and headed back down the moor, seeing no alternative to going home to face his father’s wrath.
He heard the guns blaring across the moor and remembered that his father would be holding a shoot fairly soon. I might get another shot at Sam Little, he thought. If he’s able to walk! He gave a smirk of satisfaction at the thought of the stable lad having a limp for the rest of his life. That’ll teach him to mess with me.
He lifted his gun as he saw rabbits in the heather. He carried a breechloader which his father had bought him when he had told him he was interested in grouse shooting. But he knew he wasn’t a good shot. He was too impatient and hadn’t a good eye, but the rattling fire gave him a thrill. He always blamed the gun for his misfiring, said that the lead escaped from the barrel so that he missed his shot, or that the cartridges were poor quality.
He fired, hit one rabbit but missed another. He didn’t stop to pick up the game. He wasn’t keen to carry home a bloody corpse; the target and the kill was the thing.
In this area there were many standing stones but he wasn’t greatly interested in them, unlike his cousin Howard who had delved into their history. Howard had said, when they were just boys, that they might have been used for astronomical sightings, to which Edwin had replied ‘Poppycock’, which was his stock answer to anything he didn’t understand or wasn’t interested in.
To Edwin, the High Bride Stones, Old Wife’s Neck and any of the dozens of monoliths on the moor were just rocks to climb on or kick at; he never gave a thought to what their original purpose might have been. From a distance some of them looked like people, some huddling together as if in conversation, others standing apart like strangers not speaking to each other.
He cantered back through them, the hooves of his horse kicking up the heather. He was feeling reckless, and though the horse was sure-footed he knew that some smaller stones were half hidden within the grass and heather and could make him stumble. He slowed a little and narrowed his eyes as he looked into the distance.
But something was moving ahead; was it a horse? Not a sheep, but yes, definitely a horse and rider. He debated whether to ride over and enquire as to the whereabouts of Dora’s family home, or to head home; he’d been out since early morning and knew that he would already be in trouble with his father, who had said he wanted to discuss the situation in the cold light of day.
He rode towards the rider anyway, as he was on his track, and then he took a breath and grinned. Well, well, well! He was fit enough to ride, then! He slowed his mount to a walk and, gripping with his knees, raised his gun again. This time he’d make a better job of it. Aim for the shoulder – not to kill him, of course not, just to disable him a little more.
‘Sam!’ he called. ‘Sam Little!’
The rider looked up, and as he did so Edwin took aim.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
‘They could be anywhere,’ Amos said to Howard. ‘Mr Edwin should be on his way back. He’s been out since early dawn.’
‘Unlike him,’ Howard commented, knowing how Edwin liked his bed. ‘And you say that Sam’s gone out too? A bit unwise, I would have thought.’
‘That’s what I said to him. His bandage was bloody so the wound hasn’t healed.’ Amos looked keenly ahead. ‘But he was intent on going.’
‘Did he know that Edwin was out?’ Howard said uneasily.
Amos pursed his lips. ‘Not unless he saw him. I didn’t tell him, at any rate.’ He glanced at Howard. ‘You don’t think – lad wouldn’t hold a grudge!’
‘No, I don’t think he would,’ Howard agreed. ‘I was thinking more of the other way round. But what about Luke? Which way was he heading?’
‘Towards Grosmont, I think, to look for Mr Edwin. That’s probably where they’re all heading.’
‘It’s a lot of moorland,’ Howard said. ‘Doesn’t mean they’d be on the same patch.’
‘No, it doesn’t,’ Amos muttered. ‘They might have gone west across the top of Fylingdale on to Sleights Moor and then up to Grosmont, or north to Littlebeck and then back across Black Brow, but there’s no saying that any of them will come back on the same route. So which way shall we go?’
‘My instinct would be to head towards Sleights Moor,’ Howard said. ‘And I’ve absolutely no reason for saying that.’
‘Best to go by gut feeling then.’ Amos dug in his heels to urge on his mount. ‘And get a move on if we’re going to catch up.’
Howard cantered alongside him. He didn’t know why he felt uneasy, but he did, especially since Amos had told him that Sam had ridden out. Could they catch up with him? If they did Howard would insist on his returning to Nab Farm. And Luke? Well, he’d been not far behind Sam, apparently. But it was Edwin he was bothered about and he felt that Anna was too. He was sure that she didn’t like the thought of her husband and her stepson being out on the moor at the same time when they were at odds with each other.
But why had Edwin gone out so early? Was he avoiding a showdown with his father, or could he not face the family? Was he ashamed of his conduct after all? Howard didn’t think so.
They rode in silence, neither of them inclined to small talk. Howard admired Amos for his taciturnity and stability. He liked being out on the shoots with him. He was the most reliable man he had ever come across; he was also the best shot of anyone he knew out on the moor.
After about an hour’s hard riding, Howard looked ahead and pointed. ‘Is that somebody? Or is it a megalith?’
‘Both,’ Amos said. ‘Looks like one of the stones and somebody – two riders!’ He urged his horse to a gallop. ‘One of them is Sam,’ he yelled. ‘I’m sure of it; he’s bent over the saddle. I knew he shouldn’t have gone out.’
Edwin lowered his gun. What was Sam Little doing? He was hanging over the saddle, one hand clutching his wounded leg. Edwin gave a grunt. He couldn’t wing him if he wasn’t sitting up straight, not if he hadn’t seen him; Edwin wanted Sam to be looking straight at him and terrified of being shot at. I’ll make sure that he disappears off the moor in fear of his life, he thought. I’ll teach him to attack me; to speak to me the way he did.
‘Sam!’ He raised his voice again. ‘Sam Little!’
He saw the boy look up and then straighten himself, lifting a hand as if imploring him for help, then lowering it again as he saw who was hailing him.
Edwin raised the gun again and took steady aim. ‘I’ll get you this time,’ he muttered. He crooked his trigger finger, narrowed his eyes – and a sudden sharp pain shot through both his hands and arms. His face was peppered with hot lead as the barrel of his gun exploded in his hands. His horse, startled by the blast, reared, unseating him, and took off, leaving Edwin sprawled on his backside on the ground.
‘Mr Edwin, sir, are you all right?’ Amos towered over him. ‘By heavens, sir, you were lucky. I was after that grouse just above you. Didn’t see you raise your gun!’ He didn’t offer to give Edwin a hand up. ‘Good thing you didn’t fire,’ he said. ‘You’d have winged young Sam. Didn’t you see him coming towards you?’ He turned to see Howard talking to Sam. ‘He shouldn’t be out, o’ course. Not wi’ that leg.’
Edwin staggered to his feet. ‘You’ve ruined my gun,’ he said heatedly. ‘Shot clean through the barrel!’
Amos shook his head and gave a deep sigh. ‘You couldn’t do that again if you tried,’ he said. ‘I’d call it a lucky shot.’
‘A lucky shot!’ Edwin screeched. ‘A lucky shot! How can you say that? You damned nearly killed me.’
‘But I didn’t, sir, did I?’ Amos stared him out, his back straight and his head up. He wouldn’t take any nonsense from this whippersnapper. ‘But you might have killed young Sam,’ he added in a low voice. ‘And that would have taken some explaining.’
Howard had deliberately gone to Sam’s aid rather than Edwin’s. Amos would be able to clear up any difficulties with Edwin, whereas Howard would have added to his cousin’s anger and embarrassment at being shot at and unseated.
He was astonished at Amos’s aim and accuracy. How he had managed to shoot the gun out of Edwin’s hands without hitting him he’d never know. Amos had seen Edwin’s intentions and seized the opportunity, racing ahead as Edwin had raised the gun. His cousin wasn’t hurt, he thought, at least not much; only his pride and probably a minor burn.
Howard rather grimly hoped that Edwin might have sustained a slight scar or two. He was carrying his mark from boyhood when Edwin had attacked him with a knife. It was deliberate, Howard knew, even though Edwin had claimed it was an accident when he was fooling about, and had voiced abject apologies in front of everyone.
‘Come on, Sam,’ he said now. ‘Let’s get off home and have that wound seen to.’
Sam was shaking. There was pain etched on his face and bewilderment too. ‘For a minute I thought that Mr Edwin was going to shoot me again,’ he quavered. ‘I couldn’t believe it! Good thing that you and Amos were so close.’
‘No,’ Howard said heartily. ‘You know that Edwin’s no use with a gun; he was probably aiming at the same grouse Amos shot at.’
Howard could see that Sam wasn’t totally convinced, but the lad nodded and they turned for home, leaving Amos and Edwin behind. They heard Amos give a sharp shrill whistle and looking back saw Edwin’s horse trotting towards him.
Luke was home ahead of them. He’d ridden as far as Littlebeck and then decided to turn for home. He was not in a good temper. Normally a mild-mannered man, Edwin’s attitude and conduct had angered him intensely.
‘You must talk to him when he returns, Luke,’ Anna said. ‘He’s no longer a child. He must accept his responsibilities. He knew that you wanted to speak to him today and yet he chose to go out.’
‘I shall,’ Luke said grumpily. ‘When, or if, he comes back.’ He was upset that Anna sounded so cross. She was the most amiable of women, which was what had attracted him to her in the first place; now Edwin was upsetting her too. He looked up at the clatter of horses outside the window. ‘Who’s this?’
He got to his feet and went to look out. ‘Ah, Howard and Sam. Sam’s got a bloody leg. I’d better go and have a look at him.’
Anna had told him that Howard and Amos had gone looking for him and Edwin and he was perturbed that Amos and Edwin hadn’t returned.
‘They’re on their way back,’ Howard told him. ‘Edwin got thrown from his horse. He’s all right,’ he added. ‘Not hurt. But I think we need the doc to look at Sam’s leg. The wound’s opened up again, and it looks rather nasty.’
‘Will you fetch him?’ Luke asked him. ‘I need to have words with Edwin when he gets back.’
‘Yes,’ Howard said, pleased to be out of the way if there was going to be a family row. ‘I’ll just make Sam comfortable and then be off.’
He bedded the boy down in one of the stables and covered him with a horse blanket. ‘You’ll be
all right till I get back with the doctor,’ he said. ‘And Amos won’t be long.’
‘I hope Mr Edwin doesn’t find me first,’ the lad said nervously. ‘I don’t trust him, not after seeing him with the gun.’
Howard looked at him. It was true that he was vulnerable, lying there on the stable floor, but surely Edwin wouldn’t ...
‘He won’t know you’re here,’ he assured him. ‘And anyway, Amos is with him. But I’ll have a word with Mr Kingston before I go if you like.’
He went back into the house to talk to Luke. He found him with Anna, Sonny, Rosalie and Polly in the drawing room.
‘Sam’s very nervous,’ he said. ‘Will you keep Edwin away from the stables?’
Luke frowned and waited for an explanation.
‘There was an incident,’ Howard told him. ‘Probably not intentional.’ Why am I lying for that reprobate, he thought.
‘What kind of incident?’ Luke barked. ‘With Edwin?’
‘It was resolved,’ Howard parried. ‘By Amos.’
To his intense relief, Amos and Edwin rode past the window at that moment, and he didn’t have to say anything further. A few minutes later Edwin stormed into the house looking for his father.
‘That damned idiot nearly killed me,’ he shouted as he came into the room. ‘Amos! He shot my gun clean out of my hands. Ruined it completely! And just about shot my face off.’
He scraped his finger down his cheek. ‘Look! Red hot lead,’ he spluttered. ‘He should be sacked! He’s not fit to be in charge of a firearm.’
‘Amos?’ his father roared. ‘He’s the best shot in the district. Why did he fire? What were you doing to lead him to do that?’
‘He said he was after a grouse,’ Edwin blustered, his face red with fury. ‘There was no grouse. I didn’t see any. You!’ He jabbed a finger at Howard. ‘You were with him. You saw what happened. Tell them. Tell them how he tried to kill me!’
Howard shook his head. He wasn’t going to argue with him. Edwin was raving; whatever he said, Edwin would argue against it.
