A Perilous Marriage (22 page)

He'd known the kind of man he’d sought, and whether it was the leader or his second in command made no difference after the dealings with Matthew. He was a villain through and through. Although the burning down of the earl's house pointed to someone with a fearsome grudge, not an ordinary gang member who would be getting away from the district after that rock fall as quickly as his legs could take him. Yes, he thought, it was the leader, and escaping from the cavern had freed him to create this mayhem.

This catastrophe was entirely his mistake. He was the one to ask Walter to release the two night watchmen to help with surveillance of the cave. Had they been guarding the house, no way could the varmint have been able to get in without the alarm being raised.

Even though it was Evan’s dereliction of duty that had allowed the villain to escape, it did not absolve him for mismanaging the plan. He was entirely to blame for the destruction of the earl’s house. He’d known Evan was not trustworthy yet had taken him on. Yes, he had been short of men, but nevertheless, taking a chance on a man who was so witless he was a risk—not only to himself but, as it turned out, a threat to everyone else—was the height of stupidity. Back home, Aaron sat at the kitchen table, elbows spread, holding his head in his hands, his brain a mush of guilt.

His wife hushed the younger children and hurried them out of the room to bed. She recognized something awful had happened, but not what, though she’d heard of the all-consuming blaze of the earl’s house which was bad enough. She was at a loss to know what affected her husband so badly, but instead of asking as she was almost tempted to do, she resolved to refrain and merely said, “Your supper’s ready. Shall I dish up?”

“I’m not hungry, but yes, I’ll try and eat.” In the end, although he didn’t finish, he made a reasonable effort, and once she had cleared the table, he said, “Ellie, we have to talk.”

“It’s about the earl, isn’t it?”

He heaved a deep sigh. “I’m afraid so. The burning of his house is my fault.” He went on to explain why, giving her every detail, if only to have things clear in his own mind. She tried to defend his actions, but he wouldn’t have it. “I’ll be off early tomorrow to Berkshire, lass. The earl has to know before he returns back here. I have no idea what he will say. He probably has a right to beat me to death. He won’t, of course. He’s not that kind of a man, even though I deserve it.”

“Stop it, Aaron! You don’t deserve anything of the kind. Circumstance went against you, that's all. You did the best you could. That snivelling wretch, Stebbins, will rue the day he let you down. The village will throw him and his family out. They’ll have to leave—”

“Ellie! You won’t say a word. Hear me good. Not one word of what I’ve told you escapes your lips. Facts will get out as there was more than me up there, but nothing will be said as far as we are concerned, understand?”

She stared back at him for a long moment. He was a good husband and cared devotedly for his family. She loved him dearly and was shocked at his harsh words. He had never spoken so firmly to her before, so she knew the disaster had deeply affected him.

“All right, I won’t say anything. But I hope it gets out. It is not fair for you to accept all the blame. In fact you shouldn’t take any blame, but knowing you—”

“Ellie, give it a rest. I can’t take any more. I’m beat, and I’m for bed. I’ll be off first thing as I said—”

“I’ll be up tomorrow to see you off. Sleep well. I’ll be up myself soon.” She gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and watched with pity as he turned for the door, his shoulders sagging dismally. She had never seen him look so low.

* * * *

Lucie snuggled close to Richard in the bed that had become so memorable to her before they’d left Ashbury Mead. It was large and supremely restful, and the sheets were of silk which felt exotic and soothed her bare skin beautifully. She had slept well that afternoon, and without doubt, was ready and willing to make love with her husband. Except he was still lying on his back and not leaping on her as usual.

“Richard, is everything all right?”

“Yes, of course it is. Shouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know. You seem changed, worried maybe. Are you fretting to be back at Clun? I wouldn’t blame you if you missed the place...I know how glad I was to come back here.”

“So was I. This place feels more like a home to me than Amberley. I miss Eleanor, as you could expect, but she has left a presence here that is comforting, warm and welcoming. I know you would treasure living here so, whereas I had thought to bring up our family in Shropshire, I am having second thoughts.”

Lucie held her breath, wondering if miracles really did happen. Yet she knew she must not influence him one way or the other. He had to come to a decision of his own accord.

“And those thoughts are troubling you, my lord?”

“Undoubtedly I can see our roles in Clun. Holding the people together, putting right all the things my father neglected...” He paused and sighed. “He left many problems behind in the village regarding the people, neglecting repairs with cottages he owned. Oh, so many things that even the worst of landlords would have attended to. He was a feudal tyrant, and I own shame for being his son. As for Amberley…Lucie, I should have pulled down the house and started again. I hate it—every stick and stone brings back grief of the past.”

“Then do it. I won’t have you unhappy over something like that. We can change things. We can even buy something else in the district and sell the Hall. I quite liked the house, knowing it was yours, but I haven’t got the same unity as I have with this place. I love you and want you happy—”

“Hold on a moment...you love me? Why did that pop out? You have never said you loved me since we first married. In spite of the fact we are so in tune with everything. I have waited and wondered for so long as I love you too. You have stolen my heart since I first met you...” He pulled her close to his body, smoothing his hands over her back. “I know you were forced into a marriage you did not want, but things haven’t been so bad, have they? I have been amazed at the way you have responded to me.”

“Oh dear, and I have been amazed since I was first so dreadful, pretending I was a maid of the house and then so terribly rude to you after that. I wondered later how you could possibly bear with me and meant to apologise, but you left for London the next day, and I never got a chance to apologise, then when you came back...Grandmama...”

She tried to hold her tears. He felt them flow wetly down his chest. She gulped and, making an effort, said, “So many things happened at once, and suddenly my life changed. I had to marry you, a complete stranger, and then I realised that if things had gone as planned, I would have ended up marrying a complete stranger anyway, even if a wedding had been planned with enough time to get to know the man. It was still the same coercion, never my choice of deciding whether to marry or stay single. Can you wonder why I didn’t feel resentful at being so managed? Why more young girls don’t feel resentful of the way their futures are planned I’ll never know. I’ve been lucky meeting you, having the best of grandmothers, and being safeguarded by both of you. So yes, Richard, I have fallen in love with you, but I still want my own way—or at least, I want to be a true partner to you and have us both decide together the best way forward and where we shall live.”

He bent his head and nuzzled her face before taking her lips in a heated kiss. “I can never get enough of you, sweet one. I think I loved you when I first saw you, my darling, even if I did not know it then. We will take time to resolve our family home, and for now, just love one another. I will give you every choice you want providing you stay loving and always do what I tell you!”

The room rang with laughter as the two joined together and celebrated their love.

Chapter Seventeen

The main street in the village was very nearly blocked with stalls and booths for the festival when Aaron Buckley arrived and asked his way to Ashbury Mead. He was greatly impressed with the drive and surroundings as he made his way up to the main door, all at once recognizing the complete contrast between Clun and Amberley Hall. There was no doubt the earl was wealthy indeed. The butler eyed him suspiciously when he knocked but showed him into a drawing room and said he would enquire if his lordship would see him. A groom would see to his horse. To his relief, he was not kept waiting long but soon shown into a comfortable study.

“Aaron! This is an unexpected pleasure.” Richard immediately came from behind his desk and held out a hand to shake. “What brings you here?”

“Not pleasure, milord. More like disaster,” Aaron said wryly, taking his hand.

“Oh?” Richard turned towards a decanter to offer a brandy then, with second thoughts, said, “You’ve come straight here from Clun? Have you eaten today?”

“Well no... It was urgent; you see...I did not want you returning...”

“Just a moment..." Richard interrupted, "Drink and food is what you need, and then you can talk.” He rang for Rowten. “Find some food for Mr Buckley, please.” He looked at Aaron, “Beef, cheese, a tankard of ale suit you?”

Filled with embarrassment, Aaron nodded. “Whatever, milord, don’t go to any trouble.”

Richard smiled at Rowten. “Mr Buckley has come a long way. I’m sure you’ll see him comfortable, and he will be staying with us, of course.”

“Yes, milord, the food will be here directly, the ale at once.” Rowten bowed and left.

“Now sit, Aaron and tell me what’s amiss. I collect it is to do with Tasker?”

“Yes milord, but it is not only him. I’m involved too. I can’t believe what has happened, what I have to confess. Truth to tell, your house burnt down two days ago...”

“Burnt down! You mean actually caught fire and... Good God! What is its state now?”

“A total ruin, milord. Not much to choose between it and the Castle. T'was all my fault it happened—” A knock at the door heralded Rowten with the tankard of ale. “Food will be with you directly, sir. Cook is just preparing a tray.”  

“Thank you.” Aaron took the tankard but refrained from drinking as he saw Richard help himself to a brandy. When he turned, Aaron held up the tankard. “Your health, milord, though I should be grovelling rather than enjoying a drink with you.”

“Come now, things can’t be as bad as that. Let’s have the story and I’ll know more.”

Painstakingly truthful, Aaron went through all the details from when Richard had left Clun and his own arrival at Ashbury Mead. It was briefly interrupted by the advent of the food which Richard urged him to eat, but by then, the earl had got the gist of everything.

“So a thorough job was done with arson? Well, that settles one problem. I am fully insured so won’t stand a loss. The two men Tasker had with him are accounted for. One dead and the other locked up. That’s an achievement. You also think Tasker is wounded but got away. Go on, what else is there?” He frowned as Aaron told him about the stableman’s death and the theft of the young horse.

“The colt was found half dead in the wood behind Amberley. Then, just as I left, news came in about another stolen horse. It was owned by a young man who worked in Shrewsbury but stabled his mount at his parents’ home close to Clun. Both the elderly people had their throats cut, and the horse was gone. The killer might have thought the murders would not be discovered so soon, but the son returned unexpectedly and discovered what had happened. There is a manhunt out now, but I venture, with a prime stallion under him and likely knowing you are back here...”

“Yes, I take your point, hence your hurried visit. I’m obliged, Aaron. You are a good friend. As to any culpability you feel you have regarding the arson, forget it. We are dealing with a man whose diabolical tendencies are beyond the comprehension of ordinary people. He would have evaded you, no matter what safeguards you had in place.

“The problem I have now, bearing in mind I brought my wife back here to keep her safe, is manifold. I believe Tasker will come back here to wreak his vengeance. Though why he should concentrate on me is difficult to grasp, even although I have foiled him in a couple of ways. I think his mind is so distorted that if he feels thwarted in some way, he hits out blindly with no regard for the sanctity of life. His actions in the American city where I first came across him some months ago bear witness to that state of mind. We have to accept we have a killer heading our way. You are a hunter of no little repute. Will you stay here and help me find him before he gives me more grief? I have to protect my wife from his madness, and your aid and expertise as a hunter is vital. I can’t see anyone else having more knowledge of his ways than ourselves, so bringing in the police at this time would be futile.”

“You have my help, sir, all the way, whatever happens. I need to catch him too.”

* * * *

Beyond weary, his side hurting viciously, he’d taken too much time to make the journey back to his house. He had even fallen off his horse which, luckily, had not strayed far during the time he took to recover consciousness. Tasker led the equally spent animal into a stall in the empty stables behind his house. Feeding and watering the animal took almost the last of his strength, but with no groom to do it, he had to make shift himself. He thought of Harry and how he'd died, and for moment, was lost in regret. Then shrugged and cursed that he was not around to take on the burden of the chores. Yet Harry had done him a favour in the end by triggering a rock fall before he’d had a chance to go too far. Good old Harry!

The empty house was drear and unwelcoming as he lit a fire in the kitchen stove and put on a kettle to boil. A bath was totally beyond his strength or resources, nor could he find any salve, but he knew he needed hot water to peel away the wadding from his injury. Once he removed his coat, he could smell the awful odour that rose from the wound and recognized he should have a doctor to attend him. But it was impossible. He must stay hidden until he had accomplished his purpose. The next hour was excruciatingly painful as he tried to clean and clumsily bandage his ribs. The granite shard had stripped the flesh to the bone, and with no chance to clean and dress it, the area, laid bare to the dirt of travel since Clun, had accumulated so much oozing pus that no amount of washing could free him of it. It also smelt as though he was decaying. He felt feverish, and was not sure if it was because of the wound or just sheer tiredness. Perhaps a long sleep would put him right.

* * * *

Knowing Rowten was rarely at a loss when one needed to find someone, Richard rang for him. “Where is her ladyship?”

“She’s down in the kitchen, conferring with cook. Mrs Salter has finished the cakes for our stall tomorrow, and she wanted her ladyship’s approval. We have a large stall and many of our people contribute, so we try to make room for everyone. I trust, milord, you will attend the festival? It is usually most enjoyable.”

“Certainly, I’ll be there with her ladyship. I’m looking forward to it. However, we have to be aware that someone else might also attend.  It is quite possible that Lord Tasker has returned to the district and could cause trouble. I do not wish to forbid my wife’s visit, but it is essential she is protected.”

Rowten pursed his lips in a frown. “I will definitely pass the word round the estate, and everyone will keep a look out, but she will be on show at some point as she will present the prizes. Something that became a habit with the late duchess, and Lady Lucie has already agreed to it. Milord, do you wish a full-blown hunt for the man?”

“I think not. Nor should you say anything to our people except, perhaps, a trusted few. A hue and cry will spoil people’s enjoyment tomorrow. It will give the festival a bad image and set everyone’s nerve on edge.  If we can get through the day without danger to anyone, then after that, we can scour the area. I’d rather he does not know he is a wanted man. Softly, softly is the key to catching him.”

“Yes milord. Perhaps a drift alongside Tasker’s Hall by one of the gamekeepers might suffice to confirm his return. I doubt he has anywhere else to go to except his house, even if he stays in hiding.”

“Yes, but with caution. Perhaps a quick look in the stables to see if a horse is there.”

Those around at dawn the next morning felt the chill of the season but were heartened that the day promised to be dry and sunny for the Harvest Festival. The activity in the main street of the village was clamorous, with barely space to move between the newly erected stalls and booths, though the centre highway had been kept clear for the expected crowds.

Richard was also awake early but had decided to forego his usual morning ride and stay in bed with Lucie. She had been asleep when he had retired to bed after talking with Aaron Buckley until late, and he not only wanted to talk to her but calm his own fears as he made love to her. He lay waiting for her to awaken and thought of the conversation he’d had with his friend as they sat in the study, imbibing brandy.

Richard had produced maps of the surrounding countryside and every strategy they could think of had been discussed but, in the main, discarded.

“You have a lot of woodland to cover,” Aaron mused. “Apart from the village houses and shops, most properties are well spaced with plenty of woods in between. There are enough places to hide, milord, if we prevent him from staying on his own property. Even that area covers a lot of land, and he will know it better than us.”

“Yes, I know, Aaron. But I wonder if he actually knows his land. I would lay odds he has never risen each morning and ridden over every inch. My wife said he once asked her to ride with him to show him his estate—when he returned the second time, from America, after leaving because his wife had died in an accident which we believe wasn’t accidental after all. He purchased the estate when he married, and consequently, it was unfamiliar to him. Fortunately, she refused, and later saw him out with someone else, but I’d wager that happened only a few times. He far prefers the safety of a roof, I think. The outdoors is not to his taste, and the chill of an English winter won’t be either. I’m quite confident I can hunt him in the woods. I have had some experience with it in America.”

Aaron grinned. “I did notice your style when we went to Matthew’s place. Nary a broken twig, as I recall. I shall have to learn your technique.”

“Rubbish, Aaron, you were born knowing the technique.” Richard laughed and rose to refill their glasses. “I think all we can do is to keep a watchful eye at the festival tomorrow and then try and pin the man down to a small area and, hopefully, make him give up. Though I judge that is a pointless hope. I wager the man will twist and turn like a polecat—”

“You are still across the seas, sir. I reckon the polecat you refer to is our weasel, but the same comparison serves and does not dismay me. I have tied many a dead ’un to a fence and felt the better for getting rid of them. I’ve only hunted small animals, unlike the ones abroad. A bear must be a creature more dangerous than any I’ve had to deal with.”

“Which reminds me,” Richard replied as he went over to a cupboard and rummaged inside before pulling out a slim bundle of sacking. Removing the contents, he took out a deerskin bag then pulled out a short, beautifully made bow from inside, laid it on a table, and placed a quiver of arrows beside it. “What do you think of that?”

Aaron stood, moved to the table, and, staring down with a rapt look, said, “By God, that is a weapon I’d sell my soul for.”

Richard grinned widely at Aaron’s exuberance. “I brought it back with me, though haven’t had a chance to use it, nor prey to use it on. However...”

“I see. You think perhaps if you have to go searching—”

“Yes, it is a thought. A single shot from a gun and one has to reload, which takes time. With this weapon, one can get three arrows off in the same time. I had an American Indian teach me, but believe me, I was a babe in arms compared to his skill. I managed, in the end, to get grudging approval, but I knew I’d never attain his prowess. To my surprise, however, he gave me this bow and quiver when I was returning to England with strict instructions I was to practice. Unfortunately, I haven’t had the chance, so whether I could hit a target now is a moot point.”

“Even so, I wager you won’t have lost the skill. Your butler was telling me someone has set up an archery competition in one of the fields at the back of the high street. Perhaps you can find time to enter?”

Richard pursed his lips. “Time is the optimum word. As my wife will be on the move to see and talk to people, I must be at her side in case...” After a moment, he shrugged. “There's nothing to stop you having a go. It is an excellent sport to practise one’s aim.”

“We’ll see.” Aaron also looked serious. “I propose to shadow you from back in the crowd and keep an eye on anyone who looks to be suspect. If you are on the move all the time, no one can prearrange an ambush with a target moving hither and thither. So give heed to where you might linger too long to give someone a chance at a shot.”

“Good advice, man. I’ll try to follow it. Now, I think I will retire. A footman will show you to your bedroom. Sleep well, Aaron, we don’t know what tomorrow will bring and need our rest. I’ll see you at breakfast.” Once Aaron departed, he retired to his bed thinking he would not sleep, but coiled round Lucie’s warm body, he was soon lost in slumber.