The Duke's Dilemma (11 page)

Hester saw the delight on Polly’s face them
watched it fade to sadness.

‘Thank you, miss, I should’ve loved to come.
Having employment with someone like you is something I’ve dreamed of, but I
can’t leave without my Sam.’

‘Then I shall employ him as well. Come along,
Polly, his grace is waiting.’ She didn’t add that in his tetchy mood it would
do neither of them any good to dawdle upstairs. She was tempted to detour to
the kitchen and make the objectionable man kick his heels for a while longer.
Then remembering the steely tone in which he’d issued his second instructions
she thought better of it.

‘Here we are, your grace. I
do
hope we have not kept you waiting.’ Hester’s tone dripped
insincerity. Her false smile slipped under his hard stare.

‘Polly, come and sit down. Take the chair by
the desk. Don’t look so worried, I just want to talk to about your connection
with Neddingfield Hall.’

The girl dipped in a low curtsy walked quickly
to the designated place where she sat, hands neatly in her lap, her head bowed
demurely. Hester resumed her seat behind the desk wishing she could hide under
it instead. Deciding she would remain mute and not give him the opportunity to
snap at her.

‘Polly, we know you’re betrothed to a groom
here. Sam Foster, do we have that right?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, your grace, but we’re not
exactly betrothed, we can’t think about getting wed until he finds himself a
job as head groom and gets married accommodation along with it.’

‘We think whoever caused Miss Culley to leave
here last week believes you know something you could reveal to us and that’s
why they tried to abduct you. Can you think of what that might be?’

The girl stared at her cousin in astonishment.
‘No, your grace, I can’t. I’ve never been here, not until I came the other day.
Although my Sam talked about the place, told me everything that was going on,
we often laughed about …’ she stopped and Hester saw her flush painfully and
longed to reassure her.

‘What sort of things did he tell you, Polly?’
Hester forgot her determination not to interrupt. Ralph flicked her a glance
and she closed her mouth hastily. She was surprised her maid had not picked up
on the tension.

‘He told me once that Miss Culley had friends
in France, not aristocrats you understand, but more the revolutionaries. She
certainly went abroad and had plenty of foreign visitors. She had a captain
with a fine yacht who used to come and collect her when the tides were right.
Do you think that’s where she’s gone now?’

‘It seems the most likely explanation. Do you
know if Miss Culley travelled with her staff when she went away?’

‘I think so, your grace. Usually she liked to
take her own people. But my Sam said that she always arranges for a tenant
farmer to come in and take care of the horses and so on whilst they’re away.
When she went last time she didn’t bar the gates. That’s the talk of the town,
I can tell you. Gates shut and no-one there to have done it.’ The girl shivered
dramatically at the thought. ‘Something’s not right here. People think …’

‘Thank you, Polly, you have been most helpful.
You may go now, I’m sure you have duties to attend to upstairs.’

‘Yes, your grace.’ She jumped to her feet eager
to escape and from the room.

 
Hester
called her back.’ Polly, could you go to the kitchen and take a tray up for
Miss Bird’s luncheon?’

‘Yes, miss, it’d be a pleasure.’

The door closed behind the girl leaving Hester
bracing herself for a severe set down. To her relief Ralph smiled.

‘I think Aunt Agatha might have supported
Bonaparte and not the English during the war.’

‘Are you suggesting she’ s run away?’

‘It’s possible. If someone discovered her
sympathies they could have used it to blackmail her into leaving.’

Hester jumped to her feet. ‘It’s too preposterous.
Aunt Agatha’s a well-known freethinker, a Liberal, but not a traitor. I won’t
believe it.’

Chapter
Eleven

It was as cold inside as it was out and the only
room that was bearable at Bracken Manor was the drawing-room in which Bertram
Sinclair spent most of his time. The fire burnt day and night, but the rest of
the house was left to freeze. He had had his bed set up at the far end of the
room with bamboo screens to give him privacy.

He hated Lord Colebrook with a virulence he
could scarcely contain. This was eating him up and until the man was dead, and
the money and title returned to their rightful owner, himself, he would get no
peace.

A loud bang on the door interrupted his
vengeful thoughts and he composed his face and ordered whoever was there to
enter. He was expecting a message to have come from the woods that morning.

‘
Beggin
’ your pardon,
sir, I
 
’
ave
the message you bin
awaitin
’.’

‘For God’s sake don’t stand with the door open,
close it, it’s cold enough in here already.’

The man shuffled forward; he was wearing sacks
tied round his legs, two coats and a muffler about his head; it obviously
wasn’t any warmer in the kitchens.

‘It’s like this, sir, they sent someone from
the ‘all through the woods. The boys as took ’
im
; ’e
didn’t know what ‘it ’
im
. The boys what took ’
im
found these papers in ‘is pocket.’

Bertram reached out and took the papers by the
edge not wishing to stand any closer to

 
the vermin-infested creature who was
addressing him so familiarly. He no longer recognized the three men that had
accompanied him from the New World.

Quickly perusing the first sheet he glanced up
at the wretched man who was now edging closer which meant he had to back away
to stand in the howling draught from the leaky windows. Neddingfield was
sending for more staff and there was a letter addressed to the militia and one
to the legal firm in London.
He didn’t bother to open those, just tossed them into the fire to watch them
shrivel up. He felt a rush of triumph. He was in charge and he had thwarted his
enemies’ plans yet again.

‘Is that all?’ Why didn’t this object remove
himself? His malodorous body was tainting the atmosphere. The business of the
captive had to be dealt with. ‘Does the man still live?’

‘Yes, sir, ’e does at the moment. They thought
it ’
ud
be useful to let him go later, ’
alf
mad with fear, thinking ’e ‘ad been ’
eld
by ghosts in ’ell itself. They can top ’
im
, no problem if that’s what you wants.’

Bertram considered the suggestion. ‘It would do
no harm to keep him alive for the present. You’re sure he has no idea where he
is or how he got there?’

‘Yes, sir,
Jonesie
said ’e
wos
still unconscious, and trussed up like a
fowl. They’ve stowed ’
im
be’ind
some barrels. The lads says they’ll moan and groan like and rattle the chains
every now and again just to keep ’
im
scared witless.
The
prisoner’ll
survive down there a few days I
reckon.’

‘Very well, is there anything else?

The man shifted uncomfortably from side to side
and James felt his rage return; he had bad news. He didn’t like bad news.

‘It’s like this, your
honour
,
the staff ’
ave
run away, all them lights and the and
the
bangin
’ and
clankin
’
the lads bin making was too much them and they’re on their way back to town.’

Bertram scowled, this was good news surely?
‘That’s exactly I wanted; word will spread like wildfire around the
neighbourhood
and no one will dare come near Neddingfield
Hall. Even if they think Colebrook is in some sort of danger, they’ll not come
to investigate, not if they think there are ghosts involved.’

‘One of our lads
over’eard
them talking, it seems there’s two ladies living there as well, one of ’
em
is an heir to the old lady
wot
wos
livin
’ there.’

James turned and swept the tray of congealing
food and the empty decanter from the table. Then he stamped on the remains,
crushing the glass and crockery to small shards. He didn’t hear the door close
or notice the man, who had once been the closest thing he’d had to a friend,
vanish back to the kitchen.

Another visitor? He had
been planning this for over a year, how could he not have discovered there was
another heir to Neddingfield Hall. He didn’t like killing women, he did it, of
course, but it wasn’t something he enjoyed. But there could be no witnesses to
his perfidy, this mystery woman’s days were numbered. His men had instructions
to continue to reduce morale with more ghostly goings-on and then in a day or
two he would strike
.

*

Hester collapsed at the
desk, dropping her face in her hands. She loved Are, admired her defiance of
convention, but this? It was too much to take in. Surprised Ralph hadn’t
spoken, she sat up to find him watching her from across the wooden surface.

He looked so fatigued, his
face grey, his eyes bloodshot, then she understood he was equally shocked. She
rallied and forced her mouth and a semblance of a smile
. ‘It seems plausible, does it not, that our
aunt sailed to France
for
some
reason?’

‘It does indeed.’ He paused, rubbing his eyes
as if they ached. ‘I wonder, my dear, as we have been in each other’s company
so much over the past two days, do you think we might dispense with all
formality? Shall we call each other by our given names alone?’

Hester had been about to refuse, but how could
defying convention in this small way matter after the revelations about their
aunt? ‘Very well, it’s a trifle cumbersome referring to you as
Cousin Ralph
. You do realize, that by
being on such familiar terms you have placed yourself in the position of a
sibling, only brothers and sisters may refer to each other in this way.’

She saw something flash across his face and
wondered how she’d managed to annoy him this time? It wasn’t anger she’d seen
there, but something far more dangerous.

 
He stretched
across the desk, covering her hands in his. He turned them over and began to
trace gentle patterns with his thumbs on her palms. Her insides melted and she
forgot what she’d been about to say. She should snatch her hands back, jump to
her feet in protest but an odd lassitude overtook her and she left them where
they were. Her head felt heavy, her neck too slender to support it; an unusual
heat was pooling in her nether regions.

She jerked and this time extricated herself
from his grip. ‘Your grace, I must protest. You have no right to treat me
disrespectfully. We are not betrothed.’ No sooner had she spoken than she
regretted it.

His expression triumphant he was on his feet,
towering above her, eyes blazing. Next, as if she weighed nothing, he grasped the
arms of her chair and swung it round so her feet were facing outwards, away
from the desk. Then to her horror he dropped to one knee and took her hands
again.

‘Exactly so, sweetheart.’ His voice was low and
intimate, sending shivers of apprehension, or perhaps excitement, up and down
her spine. ‘You must know how I feel about you. I’ve waited years to meet the
right woman and finally I have.’ He paused, and raising her hand, delicately
kissed each fingertip, his breath warm, the sensation like nothing she had ever
experienced.

‘Would you do me the inestimable
honour
, my darling girl, of becoming my duchess? We can
unite the two branches of the family and our fortunes and run the estates
together.’

Unite their fortune? Is that what this nonsense
was about? Keeping the money safely in the family? Her spurt of anger gave her
the courage she needed to refuse his ridiculous proposal.

This time she removed her hands. She bowed her
head, acknowledging his question.

‘Lord Colebrook, kindly get up from the floor,
you’re making a cake of yourself. I have no intention of marrying you, not now
or later. What a ridiculous idea! Why we’re scarcely acquainted and you’ve
already tried to kill me
and
taken
liberties with my person. I can assure you, I did not enjoy either experience.’

Now she
had
offended him. He was back on his feet, scowling down at her as if she was a
recalcitrant member of his brigade.

‘Very well, I’ll accept your refusal for the
moment. But be very sure, Miss Frobisher, the matter’s not decided. Before you
leave here you might be glad to have the protection of my name.’ He spun and
marched out, parade ground stiff, every inch a soldier.

She didn’t stop shaking for several minutes.
Eventually she felt strong enough to stumble across the room and believing she
needed a hot drink, she tugged the bell-strap.
 
She might be ready for a bowl of soup as well; it seemed a long time
since she’d broken her fast that morning.

She waited fifteen minutes but no one came to
answer her summons. How odd! She decided to go to the kitchen and see for
herself what was keeping the maid. She pulled her shawl tightly around her
before braving the icy corridor and walked briskly until she reached the warmth
of the grand hall. Here she paused in front of the fire glad the two tree
trunks were still alight. Taking a deep breath she hurried towards the rear of
the house and into the kitchen knowing it would be warm in there. She pushed
open the door, stopping abruptly. The room was warm, the range burning, but of
Cook and her two assistants there was no sign.

What was it about Neddingfield that one moment
people were there and the next minute vanished? She went out into the corridor
that led to the boot room and saw there were no cloaks and clogs hanging up.
Everyone had gone outside, but why would they do this when there was so much
snow? She hurried back to the kitchen and went across to peer through the
window. The blizzard had abated; the sky was a clear blue, the sun shining.

She would go and see Birdie; she would know
what was going on. Hester picked up a candle, lighting it with a taper pushed
into the range, then took the stairs that led to the housekeeper’s domain. On
opening the door the sound of sobbing was clearly audible and the murmur of her
companion’s voice attempting to offer comfort. Whatever was going on?

The door banged shut behind her and the noise
ceased; she heard footsteps and Birdie was there, her face etched with concern.
Crouched on a chair beside the fire, first wringing her hands and then wiping her
eyes on her creased apron, was Polly.

‘Hester, my dear girl, I’m so glad you’ve come.
I couldn’t leave Polly to fetch you and it would seem there’s no one else
downstairs to run errands. You’d better come in at once and hear of the fresh
disaster that has overtaken us.’

Hester went to Polly’s side and squeezed her
shaking shoulder. ‘Whatever’s wrong? Why are you so distressed?’

The girl gulped, shook her head, then made a
valiant effort to answer. ‘Oh, miss, it’s dreadful. They’ve gone you know,
everybody’s left. I went to the kitchen but it was empty. I checked the
pantries and the root cellar, but there was no-one. I ran upstairs to our rooms
in the attic and they’re all empty too; Cook, the kitchen maids,
parlour
maids, everyone but Meg, has vanished into thin
air, just like Miss Culley and my poor Sam and the rest of them.’ The girl was
overcome by another wave of weeping and buried her face in her apron once more.

Hester straightened, moving to join her friend
by the window. ‘Why has the staff left so suddenly? Are you certain Meg’s still
here?’

‘According to Polly she’s sewing in your
dressing room. I haven’t been up to check, but she was there an hour since, and
unless one of the other girls went up to get her, she’s there still.’

‘I shall go at once and fetch her. It will be
better if we’re all together.’
 

She raced down the stairs, across the
passageway and into the back stairs to arrive opposite her chambers breathless
and her candle flickering wildly. She blew the flame out before rushing across
the passage and into her rooms.

 
‘Meg,
Meg, are you there?’

She heard a welcome noise and the girl appeared
in the doorway. ‘Here I am, Miss Frobisher, I was wondering what happened to
Polly, she’s been gone that long, I was becoming a mite worried.’

‘Meg, she’s with Miss Bird, and I want you to
come with me. Leave whatever you’re doing and we’ll go straight there
together.’ Having blown out her single candle, and not wanting to stop and
fiddle with the tinderbox, she decided to take the long way round which was
bright enough in daytime.

All had disappeared - did that mean Ralph had
gone as well?
 
She froze and the girl
running behind, unable to stop, crashed in to her. Hester fell to her knees,
banging her elbow painfully on the wall. Meg was instantly overcome with
apologies.