Melinda Hammond (18 page)

 'What is going on here?' her icy tone brought all eyes towards her. The butler greeted her appearance with relief.

 'Ah Miss, you said - that is - I have been trying to explain to the gentleman, Miss, that you gave orders …'

 Mr Bannerman cut across his tangled explanations.

 'Miss Shore, I came here expressly to talk to you. Pray give me just five minutes of your time.'

 She hesitated and the gentleman's hard eyes narrowed.

 'Afraid I might do you injury in your own house, ma'am?'

 An angry flush mounted her cheeks. She drew herself up.

 'Of course not. You will come into the morning room, if you please.'

 He gave his hat and gloves to Ditton and followed her, shutting the door of the morning room firmly against the interested servants hovering in the great hall.

 He walked to the window and stood for a moment, silently gazing out. He was still wearing his driving coat, and for a moment Verity saw not the shadowy figure enticing her into danger, but the saviour who had rescued her from a life of drudgery at Cromford. She thrust the memory aside.

 'Well sir?' she spoke coldly. 'I can give you five minutes, nothing more.'

 He turned to look at her. 'You are convinced I tried to kill you?'

 'Yes - no. I don't know. Yes!' she ended defiantly.

 'And will you tell me how I performed this act?'

 'You know very well what happened.'

 'No, tell me.' She shook her head, and he said with sudden exasperation, 'Surely a condemned man has a right to know just what he is supposed to have done?'

 'You know very well. You came to the shrubbery and bade me follow you.'

 'I spoke to you?'

 'Yes!'

 'In my own voice?'

 'In - in a whisper.'

 'Go on.'

 'I - I followed you into the passage of the ice-house. The inner door was open and - and you threw me down into the pit.'

 'What was I wearing?'

 'That very coat, and your hat.'

 'I suppose it would do no good to suggest that anyone could have taken my coat from its peg?'

 She clenched her fists.

 'The outer door was locked. No, sir! You convinced me once before that you were innocent. I will not be tricked again.' She paused, hoping he would contradict her and when he remained silent she added: 'I could not be mistaken, I was too close to you.'

 'As close as this?' In two strides he was before her, his hands gripping her shoulders. With a cry she recoiled and he instantly let her go. Trembling, she clutched at a chair back for support. He stepped back. 'Verity -'

 'Get out!' She glared at him, knowing in her heart she wanted him to argue with her, to demand that she listen to him.

 An angry pulse throbbed in his cheek as he returned her stare. Then he sighed, and rubbed one hand across his eyes.

 'Very well. Sir Ambrose's affairs are in good order now. Reedley has all the necessary papers and he will be able to work from that…'

 Disappointment seared through her, and with it an unreasoning anger.

 'I have written to him.' She looked away. 'I have also sent him a sealed letter describing the attempts upon my life: if I am prevented from taking up my inheritance on my birthday he is instructed to open the letter and act upon it as he sees fit.'

 He bit back an oath.

 'Why not call in the magistrate now and let us get to the bottom of this mystery?' he demanded. 'Give me the chance to clear my name.'

 'When you are so well connected in this area, and the magistrate is a close acquaintance?' her lip curled. 'He might prove your innocence to his own satisfaction, but never to mine.'

 'Very well, madam. I understand you and I shall leave now, but for God's sake take care, Verity.
I
would never harm you, but there is
someone
here who wants you dead.'

 She turned away, refusing to acknowledge his words. There was a long silence then, just when she thought she could bear it no longer, she heard him leave the room.

* * * *

 Verity sank onto a chair and dropped her head in her hands. He had put forward no argument against the proof of her own eyes. His only defence was that someone might have taken his hat and coat, but she knew the servants had all been at the May Fair, and she herself had checked that the rear door was locked. A depression settled over her spirits, and it lifted only fractionally when she found Luke was well enough to join them for dinner. He was very pale, but smilingly apologised for joining them without his jacket.

 'Mama insists I keep the arm in its sling for another day!'

 Verity was glad of the diversion, and found the effort of entertaining her cousin and coaxing him to eat lightened her own spirits. As the covers were removed she raised her glass to him.

 'I think you managed the meal quite creditably, Cousin, considering you had the use of only one arm.'

 He returned the salute.

 'Thank you. Tomorrow I intend to leave off the sling, get into my coat and go to Halifax.'

 Mrs Worsthorne was reaching for a sweetmeat but at his words she paused.

 'Will you ride out so soon?'

 'No, no, Mama. William shall drive me in the gig. Don't fret, dearest.'

 She was not proof against his winning smile and her eyes softened as she regarded her son.

 'How can I help it, my love, when you are so headstrong?'

 'Nonsense, I have been a very good patient. Besides, I have to choose a present to celebrate our cousin's birthday.'; He turned to Verity. 'On Thursday next you will be one-and-twenty. How does that suit you, Cousin?'

 Verity glanced up, observing that the servants had quit the room.

 'It suits me well, I think, although I have my reservations. I shall be glad to have it settled, and know exactly what I own. Which reminds me, Luke. I saw Brigg's name in the account books when I was going through them the other day, and there were a few other points I do not understand.'

 'By all means, Cousin. We will go through it all tomorrow. By the bye, are the other papers in order? Mama told me about Rafe….'

 Verity put up her hand, her pain too raw to admit discussion.

 'I understand Mr Reedley has everything he needs to complete the transfer. It will be ready to sign over to me on the day.'

 'Will you let me go with you?'

 'Thank you, Cousin, but no. Megs is coming with me - pray do not look so serious, Luke, we will take a footman, and a groom upon the box. I know the dangers of travelling unprotected.'

 'He looked suddenly serious.

 'You fear another attack?'

 'No.' Verity put up her chin. 'I have taken certain … measures to ensure my safety.'

 Luke pushed his chair back.

 'Mama tells me you have forbidden Bannerman to come here. How will he take that, I wonder?'

 Verity tossed her head.

 'I neither know nor care.'

 'Well I do care,' declared Mrs Worsthorne, with uncharacteristic force. 'It saddens me to see this rift between the families. I have always valued Rafe Bannerman, and his actions in pulling you so swiftly from the fire - ' she broke off to hunt for her handkerchief.

 Her son dismissed her words with a wave of his hand.

 'A little thing, Mama, compared to his treatment of our Cousin.'

 Verity bent her clear gaze upon him.

 'You do not doubt it was Mr Bannerman who tried to kill me?'

 'No, Cousin, for I have always mistrusted him. Sir Ambrose thought the world of Rafe Bannerman, treated him like a son once Evelyn was gone, but I always saw him for what he was. I shall be glad to know he is no longer allowed on our land. It has always rankled to see him riding around Highclough as if he owns it.'

 Verity looked away from the triumphant light in his eyes. She felt rather sick. Luke poured himself more wine.

 'No, we shall go on much more comfortably now, Cousin, and we can forget those foolish ideas of building a spinning mill in Beech Clough.'

 'Actually, I have decided to go ahead with that.' Verity gave her attention to selecting a sweetmeat from the dish in front of her. 'I think the mill is too important to the area, so I have told Mr Reedley to discuss it with those involved and to draw up the papers: we shall begin building this summer.'

Chapter Sixteen

 'Well, Miss Shore, may I be the first to congratulate you? You are now a woman of considerable means.' Mr Reedley shook Verity's hand, his gentle grey eyes twinkling. He indicated the pile of documents on the table. 'You will want to take these back to Highclough with you.'

 'Thank you. You have sent my papers to Mr Oldroyd?'

 'Yes. He tells me the plans are already drawn up for the mill, and Oldroyd will bring them over to show you in a few days.'

 'You made quite, quite plain that I want no contact with Mr Bannerman?'

 'I did. Mr Oldroyd thought it a little irregular, but he is quite happy to co-operate.'

 She flushed slightly.

 'And … Mr Bannerman?'

 'He too has indicated his willingness to agree. Mr Oldroyd and myself will act as intermediaries in all business matters. There will be no necessity for you to meet Mr Bannerman, unless you wish it.'

 'Thank you.' She turned to the documents and saw her letter to Mr Reedley resting on the top. Following her glance, Mr Reedley said quietly, 'I have followed your instructions, Miss Shore. The second letter has not been opened and can now be destroyed, if you so wish.'

 'Yes, I think so. There is no danger now. In fact, I - I wrote them in a fit of anger: I doubt if there was ever any danger from that quarter.' She turned to Mrs Worsthorne. 'Perhaps you would wait for me in the carriage, Megs?'

 As the widow bustled out, Mr Reedley picked up the letters and dropped them onto the fire, where the paper quickly blackened and curled away to ash. Verity sighed as she watched the flames.

 'Mr Reedley, I am minded to go away for a while. Can you find me a good manager to look after the estate until I return?'

 'A manager?' the old man looked startled. 'Miss Shore, I had thought - '

 She smiled but the gesture only accentuated the sadness in her face.

 'I have grown to love Highclough, sir, but at the present time I do not know if I can bear to live there.'

 'Perhaps Mr Worsthorne would be willing to carry on…'

 'No. There are reasons why I do not wish that.'

 Mr Reedley nodded slowly. 'Very well. How long do you plan to be away?'

 'Six months, perhaps a year. I do not know.'

 Mr Reedley regarded her closely.

 'We will be sorry to lose you again so soon, Miss Shore. But yes, I will find a suitable person to run the estate, and I will send him along to you.'

* * * *

 'Well, Verity Shore,' Mrs Worsthorne settled herself more comfortably into the carriage. 'It is done. You are now mistress of Highclough.'

 'Yes. How strange it is, Megs. And I cannot help feeling that I have usurped you.'

 'Fiddle, child. In fact, I am looking forward to living at Sowerby. The house is quite close to the town, you see. When Mr Worsthorne and I were first married we lived on the edge of a small town, and I did enjoy being able to visit my neighbours whenever I wished. From Sowerby it is a gentle stroll into the village, instead of having to order the carriage as we do at Highclough.'

 'Then I wish you joy in your new home.' She smiled, smothering a sigh as she turned away. She would miss Megs’s cheerful company. Verity gazed out of the window as the carriage rattled out of the town and along the road that followed the curve of the hills with the high moors reaching to the sky on one side and the wooded valley falling away on the other. The leaden clouds reflected her mood but Verity did not want her companion to guess at her low spirits. Megs had arranged a special dinner in her honour for the evening, inviting the vicar and his wife as well as two of her new business partners, Mr Williams and his wife and Mr and Mrs Oldroyd to join them. Verity was well aware that until a week ago Mr Bannerman's name had also been on the list. She swallowed hard, determined she would not give in to this melancholy.

 As she stared out of the window her attention was caught by a solitary rider crossing the moors. Her heart leapt to her throat: surely there was no mistaking that upright figure. She closed her eyes, telling herself her mind was playing tricks, but when she opened them again the rider was a little closer, and she could make out the detail of his high-crowned hat and pale coat with its flapping shoulder capes. For one wild moment she wondered if he would stop the coach and demand to talk to her, convince her of his innocence. The thought occurred only to be dismissed, for the horse and rider halted at some distance from the road and as she watched, a second rider appeared and she realized that Mr Bannerman had been waiting for him. Verity stared, blinked, then stifled a cry. The second rider was touching his forelock to Mr Bannerman in a gesture she could not mistake: it was Brigg, the former groom at Highclough.

Chapter Seventeen

 Never had Verity felt so low. Upon their return from Halifax she escaped to her room, declaring that she wanted to rest before dinner, but even lying on her bed there was no respite from her thoughts, for when she closed her eyes the image of Rafe Bannerman was imprinted on her eyelids, and the damning vision of his meeting with Brigg.

 At dinner Verity's poise and serene smile were unshakeable: she responded to all questions calmly and if she allowed Luke to fill her glass more often than usual, no one commented. It was, after all, her birthday. With the moon not rising until after midnight, Mrs Worsthorne had risked being thought provincial and arranged an early dinner so that their guests could return to their homes before the daylight had completed disappeared, and it was with relief that Verity returned to the drawing room once the final carriage had pulled away. Luke ordered Ditton to bring the brandy and Mrs Worsthorne cast an anxious glance at her son. However, Luke appeared to be in high spirits and determined to please. He challenged Verity to a game of backgammon and then delighted his mother by reading to her from one of her favourite poets.