Authors: Lynn Collum
The Captain (19 page)
“Not nearly as bad as that, my dear.” His kind gaze settled on her. “The estate is yours and while the income is modest, it will see you through. As to your dependents,” the old gentleman looked to the Deveres. “I shall be forced to reduce their income to fifty pounds per annum, each.”
“Fifty pounds!” Mrs. Devere shrieked. “Why that is no better than what a governess might expect. We shan't be able to get by on that amount! Why, we've scarcely gotten by on what little we did receive. Jacinda, you cannot allow him to do that! Giles must live like his friends, like a gentleman. How can he do that on a paltry fifty pounds a year!” The lady fell to hysterically weeping.
Prudence hurried round the table to her mother's side, her face pink from embarrassment at the lady's outburst. “Mama, I do assure you that we can make do. We have little expense here. It's not Jacinda's fault.” Mrs. Tyne gripped her mother's hand, but the lady was too distraught to control her emotions and soon Prudence was forced to ask that they be excused. She led her sniffling mother away.
Jacinda put her cup down, for she had no taste for food or drink at the moment. “Mr. Wilkins, surely there is some way I can better provide for my aunt and cousins?”
“I fear you cannot, my dear. However, I made several inquiries on Devere's behalf about positions in London and I am certain I could find him a post with one of the lords who are active in Parliament.” The solicitor nodded at Giles.
“Live in London!” The young man's eyes brightened on that final word. Then he slumped back. “Mama would never allow me to take such a post. She will think it beneath me. She is always reminding me that were if not for my three Devere cousins in Kent, I should be a viscount.”
Mr. Wilkins's brows rose at that odd bit of nonsense but he merely said, “I shall speak to her at supper this evening when she is calmer. I am certain that Jacinda will be perfectly happy to continue to house your mother and sister here.”
Jacinda agreed she would and surprisingly, Giles seemed quite content. He began to make inroads in the food on his plate. Jacinda, with little hunger, pushed her plate aside and excused herself. Cousin Millie offered to see her to her room, but Jacinda insisted that she remain and finish her lunch. The captain rose to escort her to the door. There he kissed her hand. For Jacinda it seemed a strangely intimate moment even in a room full of people.
“I will stay and play host to our guests, my dear. And don't worry, this estate is sound. It will provide all that you need.”
Jacinda stared into his green eyes. She couldn't quite explain, but she took comfort from his confidence. She was too overwhelmed at the moment to think clearly. She bid him good afternoon and departed to her room to gather her wits and to rest.
The gold drawing room stood empty that evening when Jacinda arrived to await the others and the summons for supper. Being early, she strolled to the set of double doors that opened onto the terrace. It was a lovely evening that had cooled from the day's warmth. A soft breeze from the west ruffled her curls but she didn't care, for the scent of gardenia it carried was so pleasant. The colorful array of roses, peonies, and larkspur beckoned her, so she strolled out into the gardens to enjoy the peaceful evening.
She wondered if her Aunt Devere would be joining them for supper. Surely by now the lady's shattered nerves had been calmed and she'd accept the changes in her circumstances. With Giles working, they would be far better off than before. Such a post would certainly make Jacinda feel less guilty about the reduction in funds the solicitor would soon be making.
She came to the gate at the end of the garden. Looking back, she could see that the drawing room remained empty so she moved through the gate and crossed the path into the rear garden. But she discovered that garden was occupied. Her Aunt Devere and Prudence were having a heated discussion while they sat on a bench. Jacinda hesitated a moment and watched the ladies. Prudence seemed to grow frustrated and threw up her hands. Without a backward glance, she hurried back to the manor, leaving her mother alone. Not wanting to intrude on her clearly agitated aunt, Jacinda veered up the path towards the stables instead.
As she moved along the gravel path, she determined that she would push all her worries about the Deveres from her mind for the night. Her gaze was drawn to the pasture, where the shorthorn cattle, newly delivered from Yorkshire, were grazing. They had been a suggestion of Weems during her first days at Chettwood, and, with her cousin's council, they decided to purchase the stock with the funds from the strongbox. It occurred to her that Millicent had maintained the estate quite well, but there had been few improvements or innovations. Her father had never really worked to make the estate profitable due to his income from the foundry, and her cousin had very much followed his pattern. But that didn't mean she couldn't make Chettwood provide a good income once she gained control. The captain had assured her it was possible.
A certainty that she would manage settled over her. There had been a part of her that had dreaded coming back home. It had been the thought of being useless and sheltered once again after so many years of taking care of herself. The loss of the foundry made her realize that there would be a great deal to do. The estate could be brought up to its full potential.
A loud shout echoed in the growing darkness. She turned in the direction of the stable, aware that was where it had come from. She hurried to see what had happened. She'd only gone some ten yards when Tobias came running up the path towards her.
“Mrs. Morrow! Mrs. Morrow!” The name always triggered feelings of guilt that she was being untruthful with her relatives. “Mrs. Morrow, there's been an accident. It's Ben. He's taken a bad fall. I told them lads not to go up in that loft but they snuck up the ladder after the other grooms went home for the night. I was out back unloadin'bales of straw from the wagon what were just delivered.”
Jacinda couldn't breathe for a moment. Ben couldn't be seriously hurt. One important reason for coming home was to bring him to a place that was safe. She lifted her skirts and hurried after the groom.
Two lanterns illuminated the main aisle of the stable. In the soft glow of light Ben lay still in the fresh straw at the foot of the loft ladder. Cal, one of the stable lads who'd taken him fishing, knelt beside him. Above the boys she could see a ladder rung hanging loose, as if it had given way beneath Ben's weight. She arrived at his side and could see he was in pain. A large lump had begun to swell at the side of his head.
“How badly are you hurt?”
His attempt to grin twisted into a grimace, and a deep groove etched his brow. “Cal and I just wanted to see the kittens. O wwwâ” he groaned and grabbed at his head.
“Never mind about that. We must take you to the house.” Jacinda ran her hands along both arms and legs to search for broken bones. He winched when she got to his right ankle.
“My leg and head hurt the most.” Jacinda saw a hole torn in his breeches. Blood stained the edges of the tattered material. He would survive but needed a doctor.
She brushed the hair from his forehead and kissed him beside the swelling. “Never fear, we shall have you feeling better before you sleep.”
The lad nodded his head and tested the growing lump. “Just my luck to fall in the summer. If only there was some icicles about to keep the swelling down, like when I tumbled down the Wapping stairs last December, I'd be right as rain in the morning.”
Jacinda remembered the incident well. She'd been furious with him for being out after dark. But that had been quickly forgotten when a kind Russian sailor had brought the injured lad home. In his broken English, he had suggested they pull icicles from the eaves above their window to use to reduce the swelling and pain. It had worked.
That memory triggered an idea. “We have an icehouse here, but I cannot be certain there is still ice this late in the season.” She rose and looked at the man and boy who awaited her orders. “Cal, run ahead and have Stritch send to Westbury for the doctor. Tobias, carry Ben to his room. I'll go to the icehouse and see what I can find.” She moved aside as the large groom stepped in and scooped up Ben.
“Jack, don't go there alone, it's not safe.” The lad looked over the groom's shoulder as they started up the aisle.
“Don't worry. The icehouse is only twenty yards or so into the woods at the back of the west pasture. It will only take a moment and I shall be there and back before the doctor can come from the village.”
Before Ben could say more, Tobias carried the lad out the stable doors.
Alone, Jacinda helped herself to one of the lanterns and an empty water bucket. She hurried from the stables, making her way to the icehouse.
Heading out the rear door, she passed the partially unloaded straw wagon, crossed the meadow in the fading light, and entered the woods. The lantern's light held back the night as she stepped under the canopy of trees. Even in the lonely woods, her thoughts were on Ben. Hopefully all his injuries were superficial and he would be back on his feet in no time.
The lantern's light soon caught the gray stone walls of the icehouse, built sometime in the previous century by a former owner of the estate. It was a rather large building but she knew that its interior was much smaller, the walls being some three feet thick. The icehouse looked much like the tenant cottages except for a few differences, most notably that the roof came to within two feet of the ground. This was due to the fact that much of the interior was underground; a man-made cave, as it were. Secondly, there wasn't a single window. And lastly, a set of narrow steps went up the wall and along the sloping roof to the peak, where a heavy trapdoor had been fashioned into the slate tiles so that it was barely visible.
The trapdoor was only used during the winter, when ice was cut from the lake and brought to be stored. She opened the lower door, which would give her access to the main storage area. She held the lantern up and illuminated a set of stone steps leading downward to a second door at the bottom. Much like in a mine shaft, wooden beams arched about the passageway to hold the stones in place. Jacinda stepped into the stairwell, taking the time to close the outside door behind her. That done, she descended. The air around her became notably cooler and there was a damp smell of wet stone. Hopefully this meant there was ice left from last March's harvest. She opened the second door and stepped onto a wooden platform some ten feet above the floor in a small room. The sound of dripping water echoed in the open space. She could see a set of wooden stairs on the far wall that went to the ceiling, where the underside of the trapdoor could be seen.
In one corner, the bright glint of ice reflected the lantern light. Ice picks hung on the wall at the bottom of the stairs. She made her way down, noting water on the floor from the constant melting. She grabbed a pick from the peg where it hung and made her way over slippery stones to what ice remained.
She set her lantern on the floor and the pail she'd brought beside one of the remaining chunks, and began to pick at the ice. It broke quite easily due to the long time in storage. Hopefully, Stritch could find some oil cloth to keep the water from saturating Ben's bed, or perhaps a bowl would do.
She'd just put the last large piece of ice in the full pail when a thump and shattering glass sounded on the door at the top of the platform. Someone or something was behind that door. All her fears about returning to Chettwood rushed back. She'd been a fool to come out here alone. Someone must have been watching her every move to know she was here. Her grip tightened on the ice pick.
Jacinda grabbed her lantern and climbed up the stairs, then hung the lantern beside the door. Taking a deep breath and positioning the ice pick to repel an attack, she wrenched opened the door.
Flames leapt out at her. An inferno consumed the entire stairway. Someone had stuffed a bale of straw in the passageway, then tossed a lit lantern on top of it. The narrow stairway was completely impassable and worse, the old wooden beams were on fire. Someone was trying to burn the place down with her inside.
Just then movement caught her eye. Jacinda realized the upper door was wide open. A white face stared down at her with satisfaction. How could it be? Jacinda shouted over the crackling flames. “Aunt Devere, why?”
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