by Gill, Tamara
“Mrs Nibley.” She glanced at the small boy, turning him to meet his eyes. “Go into the kitchen and help Miss Smith with the biscuits. I’m sure they’re almost ready to go into the oven.” She gestured for Arthur to sit on one of the settees in the room, before seating herself, adjusting her skirts and meeting his gaze. “What do you want, my lord?”
“First, I have come to apologize to Miss Evans, but to also tell her of what I’ve learned of her son’s family. I believe they may be on their way here from abroad to take the boy. I need to warn her.”
Mrs Nibley leaned forward, her hands clutched tight in her lap. “They’re already here, and I do not know what to do. Are you in Hallie’s confidence? You know everything?”
The question shamed him. He was in Hallie’s confidence to a point, but then had shunned her like everyone else would eventually do at her past. He cringed. He was the worst of men. “I was, and I wish to be again, if she’ll forgive me. But please tell me what you know. Maybe I can help before anything is attempted.”
“We’ve seen men about town. Men that are undoubtedly foreigners. They have been watching Ammon for several days. The men had been staying at the local inn and Hallie went there yesterday. The publican told her of the house these gentlemen had rented outside town, on the north road to London and she went there. I know she did for I found my horse wandering the grounds the next day, but I cannot find her, or the men.
“There is no trace of anyone at the house. The property was the late Sir Garrick’s. The family are arguing over the inheritance, and the house has not been lived in for months. It certainly would not have been leased to anyone, so for the publican to tell me that is where the gentlemen went makes no sense.”
A chill went down Arthur’s spine as he took in this information. His grandmother had said Mr. Stewart had written to Omar’s family, but that could take months to reach them and then for them to act on such news. But they were here now. They had either found out about the child by other means, or Mr. Stewart was lying and was behind Hallie going missing.
“Where is this house?”
Mrs Nibley stood, striding to the kitchen, stripping off her apron as she went. “Miss Smith, I am taking Lord Duncannon to Sir Garrick’s estate. We think we may find what we’re looking for there.”
“What are you looking for, Aunt?” the young boy asked, looking up at her with interest. Arthur watched as she reached down, cupping his cheek. “Is it Mama? She said that she would take me fishing before she leaves again.”
Anger thrummed through Arthur’s veins that if Hallie had been injured, had been taken away from her son and himself he would kill whoever removed her from his life. Mr. Stewart better be miles away from them, for when he caught up to the fiend, he would be lucky to survive the assault.
“Your mama will be home soon. I promise. Now, off you go and help Miss Smith. I’ll be back shortly.”
Using Arthur’s carriage, Mrs Nibley gave directions out to the house and within half an hour they were pulling up before the large, imposing home that was in need of some repairs.
“This is where I found my horse wandering about yesterday,” Mrs Nibley said, pointing to the overgrown lawns before the estate. “I have written to her friends from school for assistance after not being able to find her. I’m hoping they will be here within a few days to help look for her here or in London. It’s so out of character for Hallie to do this. I cannot help but think these two men we’ve seen about town have taken her somewhere. Why they would take her and not Ammon though I cannot fathom.”
Nor could Arthur. It did not make sense. He tried the door and found it unlocked. Pushing it open he called out. Hearing no reply, he stepped inside, looking about the large foyer. “Hallie!” he yelled, stilling to see if he could hear her. He turned to her cousin. “Let’s search the house and then go from there. I’ll start downstairs, you go upstairs and search the bedrooms and servants’ quarters.
“Very good.” Arthur watched as Mrs Nibley ran up the stairs. He turned for the first room on his left, a library, the books left as they were from the moment of Sir Garrick’s demise. The house would not be worth anything if the family continued to argue over it for too much longer. He called out to Hallie as he went from room to room, checking in cupboards and in locked doors that sometimes had to be forcefully opened. The kitchen had a small cellar, but that was empty, save for a few blocks of cheese that had been left to rot.
He turned in the cellar, walking up to the wall and feeling it. It was made of stone, large gray blocks. The house was made of sandstone, but looking at these walls surrounding him, the house was built on top of an older structure. A much older one at that.
Arthur raced back into the foyer, yelling out to Mrs Nibley who started down the stairs at his yelling. “What is it, my lord? Have you found Hallie?”
“Has this house always been here or was there once an older structure in this area?”
Her eyes brightened. “Oh yes, you’re right. This estate was built on top of the foundations of an old castle.”
They stared at each other a moment before Arthur recognized the moment Mrs Nibley had the same thought as he. Her eyes widened, reminding him of Hallie and making him miss her even more.
“A castle often has a dungeon.”
“Dungeon,” Mrs Nibley said at the same time as Arthur, looking about.
“It’s not in the kitchen,” he imparted, before going to the stairs and opening the door beneath the central staircase. The space was empty, save for a few cleaning rags and an old dusty broom. He came back into the foyer, looking at the floor. Perhaps a trapdoor?
Arthur frowned, noting the dust on the floor had been disturbed more than what they had done. He stepped to the side, inspecting it from another angle and followed the disturbance toward the wall where it stopped. “What the hell,” he mumbled, going over to the wall and feeling the wood paneling. He felt along the beading, not feeling any little lever or lock hidden in the wood.
“Push the wall,” Mrs Nibley said, joining him and pushing farther along the wall as if she hoped the wall would open.
He did the same and to his surprise the wall released and a door opened along the beading, revealing another door. Arthur grabbed a nearby candle, lighting it quickly with the flint beside it and held it into the black void.
Stairs…
“Hallie!” he yelled, not hearing anything in return. “Wait here, Mrs Nibley. If I do not return within the hour, go to town and get help. I’m not sure how stable and secure this old structure is. Best that you do not follow me.”
“Of course,” she said without question.
Arthur stepped into the ancient part of the building and started down the spiraling stairs that were worn in the center from hundreds of years of use. The air was cool, musty and water seeped through the stone the farther down he went.
At the bottom of the stairs, of which he thought would never end, he came to an open space that led into a corridor farther into the ground. He shook his head, hating the thought that Hallie could be down here. It was no place for anyone. Even Arthur felt the shiver of the past crawl over his skin and whisper to remove himself.
Up ahead, out of the dark a door came into view. He lifted his candle, not seeing any light coming from the space. “Hallie, are you down here?”
A rustling sound and then two loud thumps sounded on the other side of the door. He stilled, his heart pumping loud in his ears, before he heard the faint feminine scream of his name.
He bolted to the door, taking care not to snuff his candle before unbolting it and pushing it open. No sooner had he opened it, was he engulfed in a fierce hug, arms wrapped so tight about his neck that he thought he may pass out from lack of air.
Arthur lifted her out of the cell, holding Hallie close, rubbing her back and trying to stem her fear he could feel thrumming through her body. Her skin was chilled, and she shook in his embrace. “I’m here. I have you,” he said, kissing the top of her head, cooing cal
ming thoughts of being out in the sunlight in a few minutes. Of seeing her son again.
“My candle snuffed out and I couldn’t see. I couldn’t see anything.” Her sob tore at his heart and he swore revenge on the bastard who had done this to her.
Tears sprang to his eyes and he took a calming breath, needing to be strong. “Come.” He wrapped his arm about her waist, and picking up his candle, turned back toward the stairs. “Let’s get you home.”
“I would ask you how you found me, but you’re right, all I want is to get out of here, please. I just need to feel the sun on my skin and see my son.”
“I know you do.” They made their way upstairs and as they came closer to the foyer, the stairway started to come into view from the sunlight outside. “Almost there, Hallie. I’ll not let anything happen to you. You’re safe with me.” He would keep that promise and he would find out whoever did this too her and murder the bastard.
Chapter 20
Hallie woke early the following morning, the sun streaming through the bedroom window and pulling her from sleep. She rolled onto her back, her hip sore from lying on the cold, stone floor of the dungeon for almost two days. The thought of still being there, of no one ever finding her made a cold tremor run down her spine.
She glanced about the room, thinking of Lord Duncannon, only to spy him sleeping on a chair beside her bed, his head laying back against the seat, his mouth open a little in slumber. Even dishevelled as he now was, still he was the handsomest Englishman she’d ever met and yesterday when she’d heard her name being called in his voice, she could have cried with relief. Well, perhaps she did a little.
As if sensing her watching him, he opened his eyes, his blue orbs heavy lidded, his hair askew and sticking up in places. The urge to run her fingers through his blond locks and tame his mane overwhelmed her, and she contemplated those feelings and what they meant, even now, after their terrible disagreement.
“You stayed.”
He rubbed his jaw with his hand, sitting up to lean on his knees. “How are you feeling this morning?”
Hallie sat up and leaned against the bedhead, pulling the blankets up about her chest. “I’m sore, my hip is bruised from sleeping on the floor and I think I’ve pulled a few muscles. I had a little altercation before being placed in the dungeon.”
Arthur growled at her words. “Who did this to you, Hallie? I need to know.”
“Mr. Stewart.” The thought of what that man put her through left no impediment in telling Arthur everything. He deserved to know who it was and how it happened. This was not a secret she could keep from him. Never again would she keep anything from him. “He hired two men who appeared to be foreign to watch my son. Enough so that it became obvious to my cousin and her servant. They wrote for me to return home, but I had already left by the time the missive arrived. I had also received a letter stating my cousin was ill the same day the baron asked me to leave his estate. All lies that Mr. Stewart had concocted to get me to return to Berkshire.”
He cringed at the reminder of his failure. “And then?”
“The men being in Slough made us all think that Omar’s family was here. I went to confront them at the inn, but I was told they had leased Sir Garrick’s estate. When I arrived I realized my mistake. It was simply another threat from Mr. Stewart and a means to get me alone. I never saw the other two men that my cousin had spoken of, so I think they were merely hired thugs. Mr. Stewart locked me in the dungeon with no intention of coming back. Had you not found me…” A shudder wracked her body. The thought of being buried alive, far under the ground where no one could hear her shouts for help made her stomach churn.
“I will kill him.”
Warmth seeped into her bones at his intention to defend her. She watched him a moment, he too was looking at her, the concern and warmth in his eyes made her wonder if he’d had a change of heart. That he’d found her certainly made it look that way. “Why are you here, my lord?”
He stood and came to sit at the edge of her bed, taking her hand. “Because I was wrong. I should not have judged you as I did. I should not have placed what my family thought, of what society would think above what I felt. I’ve fallen in love with you. You would not be the first woman to have had a life before marriage. I will never hold it against you. I promise on my life that I will not.”
Hallie studied their intertwined hands. “Your family will never accept me. It is bad enough that I’m poor and have no great bloodline to bring to your family, but I have a child. One born out of wedlock and one who is of mixed race. I’m not certain you’re prepared for what that will mean to you and your family. Progressive as you may be, or trying to be, society is cruel and there are those who walk among it who will never welcome you again into their homes, or offer friendship to my son when the time comes for him to take his place in that world.”
“I will fight every day for the rest of my life to ensure Ammon is treated with respect that is due to him.”
“Will you really, Arthur? Or are you merely saying everything that I wish to hear? Back at Baron Bankes’s estate, you told me of all the reasons why it would not work between us. I’m no fool. I know one of the reasons is because my son is born out of wedlock and to an Egyptian man. I will not allow you to resent him in time if others turn their backs on us. If you were to ever do that, no matter the scandal, our marriage would be at an end. So if you really mean what you say, you must truly, wholeheartedly mean it.”
“I do, Hallie. To my very soul, I shall never let you down.”
She wanted to believe him, but he was a lord, a viscount. Marriage to her would mean so many sacrifices. To give herself to him, to allow him to become her son’s father figure in his young life was a gamble she wasn’t sure of. She fiddled with her bedding, unable to meet his gaze. So many thoughts ran through her mind, his past words, Arthur’s declaration now. Denial of all that he made her feel. Refusal to accept that her heart had been touched once again. All of it confusing and muddling to her mind.
The door to the room flew open and Ammon ran in, jumping up on her bed and wrapping his small little arms about her neck. She pulled him into her, breathing deep the scent of his hair. To have him back in her arms, to see him again was the best medicine for her sore muscles and bruised hip.
“Mama, you’re back. I thought you had gone away again.”
“I’m here now, my darling and we’ll never be apart again.”
He pulled back and she pushed a lock of hair out of her son’s eye. He had his father’s eyes, a rich brown with golden flecks that would forever remind her of the hot, Egyptian land. As if remembering there was another person in the room, Ammon turned to Arthur, smiling.
“Good morning, Lord Duncannon. Thank you for bringing my mama home.”
Hallie watched Arthur’s reactions to her boy, and saw nothing but sweet amusement and interest in his blue orbs. No calculation over what to do with him to remove him from view, to keep her son hidden from the social sphere they would circulate. Lord Duncannon simply looked at her boy, a sweetly mannered child who was happy to have his mother back and smiled.
“You’re very welcome, Ammon. I told you I would bring her home, did I not?”
“You did. When Miss Smith explained to me what a lord was, I thought that you would not fail.”
Arthur chuckled and Hallie smiled at their exchange. Her son, always the inquisitive boy, sat, legs folded on the bed and looked between them, his eyes narrowing in thought.
“You love my mama.”
Hallie blinked to clear her cloudy vision that her son’s question brought forth in her. Why she was teary over such a question she could not say. The fear that he would deny such feelings perhaps, or worse, state that he does.
“I love your mama very much, but I’ve been a fool these last few days and so you find me, Master Ammon groveling at your mama’s feet, begging for forgiveness.”
A grin tweaked her lips and she sighed.
“Mama, you should forgive.
He looks sad and you always tell me that when people look sad we should try and make them happy. I think if you married him, he’d be happy.” Her son nodded as if this was the very best idea.
“I think Ammon is correct. You should marry me and make me happy. And make you happy as well.”
Hallie looked at her son, his sweet face alight with hope. As for Arthur, his eyes had clouded with uncertainty at her continued silence. She bit her lip, confounded if she should risk her heart a second time. The memory of Arthur pulling her into his arms after finding her in the dungeon swam through her mind. He’d come for her. Had saved her from a terrible, agonizing death.
“Promise me that you’ll never let me down, Lord Duncannon and I’ll marry you.”
He smiled as Ammon yipped with joy, clapping his hands. Arthur pulled her son into a celebratory hug and the tears she’d been holding back fell unheeded. Never had she seen her son be embraced by a man, and not any man, but her man. Her future husband.
Arthur searched inside his coat pocket, pulling out a small box before holding it up to her. “Marry me, my beautiful, intelligent, loving Hallie.”
“Yes, yes, yes,” her son cheered, giggling.
Hallie glanced down at the yellow solitaire diamond ring. Never had she ever seen anything so beautiful. She sniffed, nodding. “Yes, I will marry you, my understanding, loving and protective Arthur.”
She smiled as he pulled her into a fierce embrace, kissing her soundly, heedless of anyone about them. Her son made a disgusted sound and she heard him run from the room, yelling out for her cousin.
“Ammon seems well pleased,” Arthur said, as she reluctantly let him pull back.
“And so am I. I’m sorry I wasn’t more honest with you. I promise to never keep anything from you again.”
