“I was taken with her immediately. Those large brown eyes, they seem to call to me…” Just then there was a knock at the door and Charles entered.
“Dinner is served, m’lords,” he said with a slight bow; then he stepped back to allow the two men passage.
The men were joined by Angela and Francine in the dining room. Francine had refreshed herself and looked even more radiant than usual.
The aromas that reached into the room promised a truly magnificent dinner, but both Francine and Albert hardly gave them a thought. They were too much aware of the missing young woman whom they had come to find.
CHAPTER 24
The day had turned agonizingly long. It was barely midafternoon and Kira had the feeling that it would be another year before the sun would start to set. Her day had been filled with tension from the moment she woke.
One disappointment followed another. It was Meg, not Polly, who came to attend her that morning—and after she had so hoped to learn more about the couple who had dined with the Cornwalls. Polly had been so cheerful and friendly last night and had shared what information she had. She had told Kira who the man was but could not tell her much about the woman, other than the fact that she was Lord Ramsbotham’s mistress. She had giggled then, avidly describing the forty-odd-year difference in their ages, and had even ventured the opinion that, at his age, she didn’t think he should need a mistress.
Meg did not mention why Polly had not come this morning, and Kira thought it unwise to question the older woman. When she asked about William, she was told he was feeling better but was attending to business with Lord Stephan and would be gone all day.
Kira told Meg that she would ride this morning and would take a picnic lunch for herself. She planned to leave some of the food hidden near the edge of the estate bordering the main road and, although someone would undoubtedly be watching her, she would somehow manage so the food would be waiting when she escaped.
By mid-afternoon, she had returned to the house and changed into her fencing clothes. Already the taste of freedom was growing near and she vowed she would be ready, when the time came, to avenge her father. Also, there were hours remaining until darkness and she had to pass the time somehow. She went directly to the section of the stables which William had partitioned for swordsmanship practice. There, she thrust away at the straw dummy that William had made for her. She needed the exercise, and concentration on her wrist, hand and blade took her mind away from what she planned for the evening.
<><><>
Flecks of foam hit his face as he urged his mount forward. This was Sean’s second horse. The first had fallen, to breathe its last, almost ten hours after he had started his reckless ride from Portsmouth to Farnham. Luckily, he was only a small distance from the village of Petersfield and he had been able to purchase another mount and continue on his way. He should have arrived at the Inn of the Giant Elm near Farnham that morning. Now, at day’s end, he still had a distance to go.
He concentrated on the horse beneath him, shaking the doubts about this part of the mission from his mind as sweat poured from Sean’s brow while he forced his body to work with the horse’s. Although the mount was not the swiftest, he was strong and could hold a fast pace for hours before Sean had to let him rest.
The countryside was becoming more populated and Sean was forced to control his wild charge. Three times he had passed military encampments, and each time he had gone through them unquestioned, smiling and nodding to the soldiers.
He had only been able to learn a little about this murderer who was supposed to live in Cornwall’s country estate. There were only unsubstantiated rumors that several people had died in the past eight years under very mysterious circumstances. The first murders had occurred in Sussex, where Stephan Cornwall had lived on his family’s estates, and they had taken place a few years after Cornwall’s marriage to Angela Bainsbridge. The messenger who had given Herz, the French innkeeper, the information appeared quite confident of his facts. It was whispered that the murderer was either Lady Angela herself—who, during the past eight years, had become a virtual recluse—or even, possibly, her son William. Neither left the estate and neither were ever seen at social functions.
When Sean entered the small village of Farnham, he slowed his horse again, his destination but a few minutes away. He rode briskly ahead, toward the stand of giant elms in the darkening distance. Reaching it, he drew his mount to a stop and tied the horse’s reins to the post. He looked about until he found a stable hand to call over.
“Walk him for a while and let him cool. He’s worked hard. And give him grain,” he said, as he flipped the boy a coin.
“Aye, m’lord,” said the boy, who mistakenly took Sean’s clothing and accent for those of a nobleman. “I’ll take proper good care of him,” he declared, as he pulled the saddle from the horse and began to walk him away.
Sean went to the main entrance of the inn, a substantial building made of wood, with additions in the clay brick of the countryside. Smoke spiraled from the chimney, a sure sign that dinner was being prepared. The common room was almost overflowing with travelers whom Sean knew were in route to London rather than the coast. He surveyed the room carefully, dismissing the curious stares of the men and flirtatious interest from some of the overdressed women. He doubted there would be anyone who recognized him here, except for Francine or Albert Ramsbotham. When he was satisfied that they were not in the common room or in the adjoining tap room, he looked about for the innkeeper.
A pretty young girl with blonde hair tied in a bun came up to him. “Kin I help you, m’Lord?” she asked deferentially.
“I’d like a room,” he said with a smile. “Is the innkeeper here?”
“Father’s attending to a problem. E’ll be returning shortly,” she said, “but we’re full up.”
“Oh,” said Sean with raised eyebrows. “Lord Ramsbotham was to have reserved a room for me.”
“Oh, yes, yer Lordship,” said the girl, flustered at her error. “Lord Ramsbotham and his lady are in their rooms and they ’av another waiting.” She turned and pointed up the stairs. “They be in room seven.”
“Thank you,” smiled Sean, as he chucked the girl gently under her chin and watched her blush. “Tell your father that I have arrived and have a bill prepared.”
“Certainly, m’lord,” she said, curtsying and hurrying off. Sean quickly mounted the stairs and found the room. He knocked loudly and the door flew open.
“Sean,” cried Francine, falling into his arms. “We were so worried when you didn’t arrive this morning. I almost had convinced Albert to go on to Portsmouth.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” He smiled over his sister’s shoulder and went to shake hands with the elderly lord.
“How are you, sir?” he asked respectfully.
“Still alive and kicking,” Lord Albert said, offering Sean a strong handshake. “Come, have a seat. You can tell us what caused this hasty change in plans.”
“How much have you learned?” Sean asked, taking a seat and drawing another chair beside him for his sister.
“Enough,” she said with a knowing smile. “Enough to be able to stop James Cornwall from doing any further damage to the country. I know where every ship of the Crown is, each captain and crew, and I have a good idea of how Cornwall has been supplying them and the name of his English master.”
“Wonderful! Then you’ll be able to leave with me,” Sean said decidedly, before he saw the hesitation in Francine’s eyes and in the set of her mouth. She quickly glanced at Albert before replying.
“Whenever you’re ready,” she whispered. Sean wondered what was wrong. He would have to wait until he could speak with her privately to find out what was troubling her.
“Fine,” he nodded, crossing his legs and leaning back in his seat. Then he related as much as he could of his mission in front of Lord Albert.
When he stopped for breath, Albert Ramsbotham asked bluntly, “Why are we here?”
> Sean studied the man for a moment. He had met him many years ago, on a mission in England, and although he liked him, he was still a little reluctant to give him his full trust. He looked at Francine and she nodded almost imperceptibly. If his sister had faith in the man, that was enough for Sean. He cleared his throat and explained the reason for his sudden change in plans.
“I thought so,” Francine said emphatically when he had given all the details about Kira. “I didn’t see her, but Albert did. When we left there last night, he told me what Stephan Cornwall said about her and I thought it must be her. But why?”
“She found out that James had her father killed and that he was working for the British. He couldn’t kill her without causing both scandal and suspicion, so he sent her here. Probably the best for him.”
Albert shook his head sadly. “The Cornwalls used to be the most honorable of people. True, they were not born of royalty, but they were fine, upstanding merchants. I even remember when young Jonathan, Kira’s grandfather, left for the Colonies. I was only a child but my father and I were at the port the day they embarked. He told me that they would secure the Colonies for us and that trade would prosper.”
“To think that one of his sons murdered the other…” he broke off, disgusted at the thought. Albert Ramsbotham was truly a gentleman and such goings on repulsed him. “We must help the girl.”
“I must tell you,” Sean went on, “there are rumors that there is an insane murderer on the estate. He—or she—has killed before. I fear for Kira’s safety.”
“I’ve heard those rumors,” Albert admitted, “but never put any credence in them. Many people become recluses. Angela lost her husband a few years after her son was born. He was killed by highwaymen when the boy was five. She shut herself off from the world until she met Stephan Cornwall, and they were married. I think she married him because of William. Her son was always a sickly boy.”
“Anyway, a few years after they were married, and just before they moved to Farnham, several men were murdered rather brutally, and no one could discover who the killer was. Then, when Stephan, Angela and William moved to Farnham, two young servant girls from one of the estates were found strangled, in the woods.” Ramsbotham shook his head.
“Still, no one knew who had done it, but the rumors started then. They always do when there are people who are unfriendly with their neighbors.”
“Then you don’t believe it?” asked Sean.
“No,” said Albert. “I’ve known Angela all my life. She’s a gentle person. I’ve met William and he’s…he’s too fragile, too beautiful to harm anyone.”
“You really don’t think either of them could be the killer?” Sean persisted.
“No. Angela’s not the type, and William would not have the strength.”
“Regardless, I will see her free.” Both Francine and Albert looked at Sean and saw through his words.
Francine stood and walked to her brother’s side. “Does she love you as much as you love her?” Sean smiled and nodded.
“You are finished with Clarissa?” she asked and saw the look of incredulity flash across his face at the mention of the other woman.
“Francine,” Sean said decisively, “I mean to marry Kira Cornwall.”
“Marry?” Francine stared open mouthed at her brother.
“No one has ever meant to me what she does. From the moment I met her, I knew our destinies were linked,” he admitted.
“Then we must do something, mustn’t we,” cut in Albert Ramsbotham. Francine nodded in agreement and put her hand to Sean’s cheek, lovingly.
“I’m happy for you.” A flood of emotion filling her face. She quickly turned away and ran to the adjoining room. Sean stood to go after her, but Lord Albert stopped him.
“She’s tired. Let her go.” He put a hand on Sean’s arm. “Tell me, do any of the Cornwalls here know you?”
“No,” replied Sean quickly.
“All right then. Your name is Sir Malcolm Crane, lately of Burma, and you’re a business associate of mine. Tonight, we will stay at the Cornwall estate. Your young lady is not permitted to join the family when there is company, but after everyone goes to sleep, you should be able to find her rooms,” he said with a smile.
“You’re sure?” asked Sean doubtfully.
“Positive,” replied Lord Albert. “At my age, I do so like to see romance in bloom.” He smiled again, but this time Sean wondered about it. The elderly lord’s smile was clearly meant for someone else.
CHAPTER 25
The moment High Tea with Angela Cornwall ended, Kira returned to her room, changed into a comfortable day dress and selected the things she would need for her secret journey. She would use a dress as a traveling bag for the rest of her things. She would take her jewelry in a small pouch tied to her waist, and would wear the riding breeches and shirt that Ruth had packed for her. She hoped the night would allow her to pass for a young man traveling by himself. When she had everything, discarding all but the most essential items, she wrapped it all in the dress, which she knotted. She took a strip of material and made a strap of it, attaching it at two ends, so that when she walked the bundle would stay secured to her back. The rapier would be tied to it also, but in such a position to be available in case she had to defend herself.
Just as she had finished her packing, a knock from the servants’ door interrupted her thoughts. She quickly flung the bundle into the closet. “Come in,” she called, and Polly entered with a package under her arm.
“Afternoon, Mum,” she replied.
“What happened to you this morning?”
Polly smiled broadly. “Annie, the cook, was sick—her time y’ know—and I told her I’d go to market fer her. It were wonderful, Mum. I brought the dress you give me to me mother. She be a seamstress and she fitted it for me. She told me it were an expensive dress and it were made beautiful, too.”
Kira smiled at her, glad to see she could make someone happy, even if she couldn’t do it for herself.
“I brung y’ a present, Mum,” said Polly shyly. Her gaze shifted down at the floor as she extended the package to her young mistress. Deeply touched, Kira opened it.
It was a jacket of heavy material, cut like a man’s, with full sleeves and a narrowing waist. It was short, much shorter than she’d ever seen before, and the material was intricately woven.
“It’s becoming the rage for young gentlemen, and all the fancy ladies be wearin’ them for ridin’, too. It’s a Spanish ridin’ jacket. It keeps you warm, but isn’t too loose so as to catch on anything, and the snow falls off it quick-like,” said Polly by way of explanation.
“How…”
“Me mother makes most of William’s clothes. He ordered this jacket. Me mother said there was enough material for two of them and when she saw the dress ya gave me and I told ’er your size, she said I could give it to y’. Do y’ like it?” she asked, her eyes hopeful.
Kira pulled the jacket against herself, hugging it happily. “It’s just beautiful, Polly. It will be perfect for me.” She tried it on with the young servant’s help and looked in the mirror. Even though the material of her bodice was very full, the jacket fit perfectly. It ran smoothly down her back, cinching in at the waist and ending a few inches above her hips. The sleeves were full but not baggy and allowed a free and unrestricted movement of the area. One could ride, hunt or even fence in such a jacket. The material, a deep, deep blue, would keep the wearer warm on even the coldest or rainiest days.
The only flaw in the jacket’s lines was caused by the prominence it gave to her breasts—but if she strapped herself in, they would flatten enough to accommodate the jacket. This gift was a godsend, especially for tonight.
“Oh Polly, its perfect,” she repeated, pulling the servant into an embrace.
“Thank you.” The girl blushed and smiled.
“Will y’ be wantin’ help to dress?” asked Polly.
“I don’t know. I haven’t been told whether I’m to eat with
the family or not. Have Stephan and William returned yet?”
“Yes, Mum, a short time ago. Shall I find out?” she asked, and as Kira nodded, Polly left quickly.
Should she confide in Polly? Kira wondered. The girl might be able to help in her escape. But the instant she thought of this, she also realized that the danger she would put Polly in would be a poor way to repay her kindnesses. She looked at the jacket fondly. Yes, it would serve perfectly for tonight—it would help make her look more like a young man. And perhaps, to cover her luxuriant red hair, she could find a stocking cap in the servant’s area near the kitchen when she left.
Polly returned a few minutes later and informed Kira that she would indeed be dining with the family. Kira began her preparations for dress but, as she did so, she reviewed once again the final details of her escape.
<><><>
Ian drove the carriage into the entranceway of the estate, subtly checking the pistol he wore at his side. He’d worn it since leaving London, as Lord Ramsbotham had warned him to be aware of the highwaymen that populated the English countryside. His eyes searched everywhere, trying to cut through the darkness. Sean’s orders were that he was to be on the lookout for the red-headed girl. His master would be inside with the others.
After he reined in the horses, he jumped from the carriage and opened the door. Two servants came from the house to assist the guests. Lord Ramsbotham emerged first.
“Charles,” he addressed the butler, “would you please tell Lord Cornwall that I have decided to accept his kind offer?”
“Immediately, m’lord,” he said, turning to the other servant. “Markham, take his lordship’s baggage,” he instructed the other man, as he went into the house. Several minutes later, the butler returned with a flurry of orders.
“Markham, help the driver bring the luggage to the west wing and get him settled in and fed. Lord Ramsbotham; Miss Adair; sir,” he nodded to Sean, “this way please.”
A Whisper Of Destiny Page 23
