The Velvet Cloak of Moonlight

by Christina Courtenay

  There was no time to ponder these questions. The ladies were undoubtedly heading out of the castle, as they went straight towards the South Gate. Rhys sprinted back to the Stone Court, as silently as he could, and walked quickly to a corner near the Library Tower where there was a small door set in the wall, leading to an enclosure outside where some of the horses were kept.

  The door was guarded of course. ‘Where you off to then?’ The man standing there challenged him while suppressing a yawn.

  ‘Need to check on my horse,’ Rhys replied. ‘Might have to change a poultice. He went lame earlier.’

  ‘Oh, right. Pass then.’ The man didn’t seem bothered one way or another, which at any other time Rhys would have found irritating. Not to mention hardly reassuring, as an enemy could presumably pass the other way just as easily. For now, he just slipped through the gate, whistled for his horse, who came trotting obediently, and jumped onto the big stallion’s back. He had no bridle or anything, but it didn’t matter. Rhys had ridden bareback more times than he could count and his horse wasn’t the nervous type; he’d never throw his master off.

  Without making a sound, he set the horse at the fence and they jumped it easily. Once on the other side, they had to move slowly as it was dark beneath the walls of the castle. Rhys kept close to the bottom of those walls and circled round to the South Gate, regretting that he had to walk through some of the lovely flowerbeds in order to get there. He was just in time to see a shadowy figure disappearing down the hill and, after waiting for a moment, he followed.

  Arabella seemed to be alone and walking with great purpose. But where was she going? He had to know.

  Merrick Court, 22nd May 2016

  Tess became aware of the sound of running water and blinked at the steady stream gushing into the butler’s sink, the water now so hot it was steaming. ‘Ouch!’ She pulled her reddening fingers away and turned on the cold tap to make it a more bearable temperature before washing her hands. How long had she stood there, daydreaming? She had no idea. Her mind had been lost in darkness and she’d seen herself in a shadowy courtyard. She’d sensed danger, her senses on high alert, expecting an ambush perhaps? But nothing had happened. And the man from the castle – Rhys? – had been absent this time. Strange how he was now inextricably mixed in her mind with Josh, the unexpected heir to Merrick Court. Both had green eyes that seemed to see all the way into her soul.

  It was very confusing. Not to mention crazy.

  She wandered into the kitchen, still a bit dazed, and almost bumped into Rosie who was making herself a mug of tea.

  ‘I can’t believe that man is the new earl! So rude. And an Aussie beach bum to boot. Honestly, it’s got to be a mistake.’ Rosie discarded her tea bag in the sink, a habit that drove Tess mad.

  ‘We don’t all have maids to pick up after us, you know,’ she muttered, fishing the bag out and dumping it in the nearby pedal bin. ‘And he’s not Australian, he’s from New Zealand.’

  ‘Same difference.’

  Tess was pretty sure Josh wouldn’t agree, but decided he could fight his own battles on that score.

  ‘So what are we going to do?’ Rosie sat down at the table and looked up at Tess.

  ‘What do you mean, do?’

  ‘About buying the house, of course. Hello? Earth to Tess.’ Rosie waved at her as if she wasn’t all there. ‘He can’t possibly want to live here, especially if he’s not interested in his title. Actually, maybe there’d be a way of having that transferred as well?’

  ‘He said he hadn’t decided. And if you want to buy the house, you’ll have to bid for it like everyone else.’

  ‘Oh, I heard him, but that’s what I’m talking about – we have to make him see reason. We’re family. Or I am, anyway; we must be some kind of cousins umpteen times removed. Once he learns about the history of Merrick Court and how we – or I and Louis at any rate – appreciate it so much more than he ever could, I’m sure he’ll understand. Besides, if he wants to sell quickly, it’s the best way. Why would he want all the extra cost of estate agents?’

  Tess shook her head. ‘Feel free to try, but I don’t think he’ll be that easily swayed. He struck me as the stubborn type.’ Not that he hadn’t been pleasant, but there had been something very steely in his eyes when he’d told Rosie no earlier. Tess was sure he wouldn’t back down.

  ‘I’ll speak to Harrison, perhaps he can help. And maybe I should take him out to lunch?’

  ‘Who, Mr Harrison?’

  ‘No, silly, the heir.’ Rosie put her mug down on the table with a bang. ‘Honestly, you’re not listening to a word, are you? You really need to pull yourself together. Are you still taking Prozac? It’s time you stopped, if you ask me.’

  ‘Thank you, Rosie, but actually I stopped ages ago,’ Tess replied tartly. That was bending the truth a little, but God, the woman was such an interfering busybody. ‘And for your information, I’m perfectly all right.’

  ‘Well, good. Stiff upper lip and all that, eh?’ Rosie smiled in what she probably imagined was an encouraging way.

  Jesus. Thank goodness that soon she wouldn’t have to see Rosie again. Once Tess moved out of Merrick Court and started a new life, there wouldn’t be anything to bind her to Giles’s family. Although hopefully she could still stay in touch with Louis.

  ‘So you’ll help me persuade him then.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’ Tess looked at Rosie.

  ‘The heir. We’ll have to think of something.’ Rosie shook her head at Tess. ‘Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe you should go and lie down for a bit.’

  ‘No, I’m fine. And as you said, you are related to him, I’m not, so don’t involve me, please.’

  ‘I would have thought you’d want to help for Giles’s sake. Or Louis’s.’

  Tess only glared at Rosie.

  ‘Fine, I’ll see to it myself. Have you gone through Giles’s papers yet?’

  ‘What?’ Tess was taken aback by the sudden change of direction.

  ‘His papers. You have gone through them, right?’ Rosie narrowed her eyes at Tess, as if she suspected her of procrastinating too.

  ‘Er, most of them, yes. Why?’ Tess didn’t want to admit that she’d been putting off going through his things and, apart from a quick look for his will, just after he died, she’d left his desk alone. She supposed it was past time to tackle it now.

  ‘They’re private. We wouldn’t want the likes of Mr Beach Bum to read Giles’s correspondence. Do get on and finish, for heaven’s sake. It’s been months!’

  For some reason hearing Rosie refer to Josh as a beach bum really riled Tess, although she had no idea why. It wasn’t her job to defend him after all. But she replied with more force than usual. ‘I’ll finish off this week, although I hardly think Giles had any “correspondence” to speak of. He used a laptop like everyone else. Who writes letters these days?’

  ‘I do.’

  Yes, that figured, but Tess didn’t say that out loud.

  Rosie continued, ‘And if you find that lovely family tree my father had someone draw up, you will let me have it, won’t you? It will be great for Louis to see his illustrious ancestors.’

  Tess almost snorted as they hadn’t been anything special. Not that she’d ever been very interested in Giles’s ancestors. She hadn’t encouraged him to tell her about them, apart from the ones who’d done something exciting, like being a pirate for a while. Talk of genealogy would invariably lead to heated exchanges on the matter of having children and heirs, so she’d avoided that topic as much as possible. It was a subject she’d come to hate. Something they’d rowed about constantly during the last year or so. But Tess refused to think about that right now. Besides, what was the point? It was too late.

  She changed the subject. ‘How long are you all staying?’

  ‘Well, Louis and Emilia are going back to London this afternoon, but I’ll be here for a few more days.’ Rosie sounded as though she was doing Tess a favour. ‘I haven’t finished my lists yet and
I’ll need to talk to the heir some more, of course.’

  Something inside Tess finally snapped. ‘Nice of you to ask if it’s convenient.’

  Rosie looked puzzled. ‘Why wouldn’t it be? It’s not as if you’re short of space here. It’s a twenty-bedroom house, for goodness’ sake. Do you begrudge me one of them?’

  Talk about water off a duck’s back. Tess gave up. ‘Fine, but if you want any food, you’re going to have to buy it yourself. I can’t afford to feed you.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Rosie put her mug in the sink, presumably for the invisible maid to wash.

  ‘Do you mind washing that up, please? There’s no one here to do it for you. And I mean I don’t have any money so I’m not buying you food while you’re here. The lawyers are only paying out running costs for the house and estate until everything is sorted out. Nothing for me personally.’

  Rosie picked up the sponge with some distaste and gave her mug a quick wash. ‘Oh, don’t be so melodramatic. I’m sure Giles left you very well off. If not, you can always sell some of your little paintings.’

  Tess resisted the urge to throttle the woman. She obviously had no idea that her sainted brother had gambled away every last penny and Tess had been lucky even to get a housekeeping sum during the final months of his life. Should she tell her? No, she’d promised not to. As for her ‘little paintings’ … how many times did she have to tell Rosie she wasn’t that kind of artist?

  Really, the woman was unbearable.

  Chapter Nine

  Merrick Cottage, 22nd May 2016

  Josh had to duck to enter Bryn’s small cottage as the door seemed to have been made for midgets. It opened straight into a cosy sitting room with an inglenook fireplace and a low ceiling criss-crossed with dark oak beams. Deep rugs and lots of scatter cushions gave the room warmth and colour, and Josh guessed Bryn’s wife must have added these as they were feminine touches. There was no sign of anyone though.

  As if he’d seen the question in Josh’s eyes, Bryn said, ‘I live yere by myself. My wife passed away five years ago. Cancer.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that. Took my mum too, way too early. Hate that disease.’

  Josh dumped his huge rucksack just inside the door. It was dirty from months of travelling and he didn’t want to ruin Bryn’s rugs. He hadn’t bothered to unpack it before leaving for the UK as Harrison’s letter had seemed so urgent.

  ‘Can I get you anything? Another cup of tea? Sandwich?’ The old man walked over to a door that led into a tiny kitchen at the back of the cottage. Josh was starting to feel like he’d ended up in Snow White’s house, only without the dwarves. At six foot two, he was going to have to watch his head around here.

  ‘Something to eat would be great, thanks. Walking round that big old house took longer than I thought and then I went over some of the fields too.’ He followed Bryn into the kitchen, ducking to avoid the low door lintel, and saw that a bathroom and laundry room had been added next to it, so at least there were some mod cons.

  While Bryn busied himself slicing bread, he glanced at Josh over his shoulder. ‘So you haven’t got rid of your itchy feet then?’

  ‘I don’t know. I think I’ve seen just about everything I wanted to. I was in Peru two weeks ago and realised that Machu Picchu was the last thing on my bucket list.’

  Josh had woken up in yet another unfamiliar bed and had had to think hard before remembering where he was. A faint feeling of breathlessness had reminded him – the ancient city of Cuzco in Peru was high up in the Andes where the air was thin and difficult to breathe. Still, it had been worth it. He’d been to see the glorious but eerie Inca hilltop town of Machu Picchu the previous day, something he’d longed to visit for ages, but that was the final item on his mental list of must-see places and afterwards he’d felt strangely restless and craving normality. Whatever that was going to be for him now. The only thing he was sure of was that he wanted to be among hills and fields full of sheep. He’d been dreaming about that for weeks.

  ‘So that’s when I went back to New Zealand to check on a few things and found the letter about Merrick Court.’ He hadn’t expected those hills to be in Wales, but now he was here he could see the landscape was very similar to that in his dreams. Was it a sign?

  ‘Must have been a bit of a shock, as you said.’ Bryn smiled and handed Josh a plate with a doorstep of a sandwich filled with ham, cheese and pickle.

  ‘Cheers. Yes, can’t say Wales was on my list of places to visit, although it should have been really. My grandparents on my mother’s side were from around here. Plus, of course, my ancestors on the other side through whom I’ve inherited Merrick Court, although I knew nothing about that before receiving the lawyer’s letter.’

  ‘Ah, I thought you had the look of a Welshman about you.’ Bryn smiled.

  ‘You think?’ Josh wasn’t so sure. He decided to change the subject. ‘Tell me a bit about Merrick Court. Why is there no staff other than yourself? I thought houses like that needed lots of servants.’

  ‘Maybe in the old days, not so much now. No money, you see. The family spent it all.’

  Josh frowned. ‘But the land around here is good farm land and grazing, right? I thought the lawyer said the house came with hundreds of acres.’ Small compared to the sheep station, but Harrison seemed to think it was vast.

  ‘It does, but that doesn’t bring in enough. Or not enough for some people.’

  Josh read between the lines but wasn’t sure if Bryn meant that Lady M or her late husband had been careless with money. He didn’t want to ask. ‘I’ll have to look into it. And as I’ll be here for a few days, maybe I can lend a hand in between seeing estate agents and things? I enjoyed digging this morning.’ Josh grinned and the old man smiled back.

  ‘Get away with you. You don’t want to be doing that.’

  ‘Sure I do. Too much leisure time can get a bit boring you know. I’d be happy to come and help.’ He yawned. ‘But maybe a bit later. I think the jet lag has just caught up with me.’

  ‘I’ll show you where the guest room is. Make yourself at home.’

  ‘That’d be great.’

  And he did feel at home. Almost like he belonged. Weird.

  Raglan Castle, 22nd/23rd May 1646

  Lady Margaret had said a horse would be waiting for Arabella where the trees started up again. Although most of the parkland had had to be cut down in order to prevent enemy soldiers from hiding there, once out of range of the castle’s cannon some of the trees had been left standing. Here, Arabella found the horse and breathed a sigh of relief.

  ‘There you are, my beauty,’ she murmured, untying the reins from a sturdy branch. It wasn’t much more than a pony, and a docile one at that, so she was able to clamber into the saddle with only a small amount of effort and soon she was on her way.

  She stuck to the murky edges of the road, looking around continuously and trying to listen for any threatening sounds. She kept a tight hold of the reins in one hand while the other gripped a flintlock pistol. It was primed and loaded, but the safety lock was on. The marquis had showed her how to use it. ‘But only in an emergency,’ he’d warned. ‘You have but the one shot.’ She sincerely hoped she wouldn’t need it.

  She’d memorised the route she needed to take, sticking as much as possible to some of the smaller back roads and tracks which would take her to her destination faster. On horseback this was perfectly fine, whereas in a carriage she would have had to go via the main roads. The pony was sure-footed in the gloom of the late spring night, but whinnied a few times and pricked up its ears, making Arabella stop and glance behind her. She thought she caught the sound of hoof beats, but when she strained her ears there was nothing.

  ‘I’m imagining things,’ she murmured to the pony. ‘And you’re not helping. Let’s go.’

  A couple of hours later she stopped to dismount and tied the pony to a tree, leaving the reins long enough for it to be able to graze.

  ‘You stay here and wait for me. I’ll
try to be quick.’ She patted the horse’s lovely forehead and slipped into a nearby copse of trees.

  She was almost there and now stealth was of the essence. Her heart was beating triple time and she kept stopping to reassure herself there was no one about. But why would there be? It was the middle of the night. It wasn’t just pursuers she was afraid of though, but the place she was heading towards – Merrick Court, her former home. Her own property, in fact, although at the moment it was held for the Parliamentarians by her uncle Huw. Her fists clenched at the thought of him. She almost wished he’d be the person to come across her as that would mean she could use her one and only shot on him.

  Vile bastard.

  As it wasn’t entailed, Arabella had inherited the estate from her mother, Isabel, who’d been widowed at a young age. Huw – husband to her mother’s sister – had been appointed as Arabella’s guardian when Isabel died, but instead of protecting the inheritance, he’d exploited it for himself and tried to force her to marry into his family. It made Arabella’s blood boil just to think of it. She took a calming breath. There was no time for such thoughts now. She had a task to perform and it had to be done quickly.

  Huw didn’t appear to be looking after her property particularly well as Arabella found a stretch of wall around the garden which was half falling down. This made it easy to climb over it and into the knot garden, exactly the place she wanted to be. She and her mother had spent many a companionable hour here during happier times. Sitting on a bench by the little fountain, which was in the farthest corner from the house, they’d chatted, laughed and taken the air, but Arabella didn’t want to think about that now. Isabel was gone, and so were those carefree days.