Anna Jacobs (19 page)

“We’re well on our way and Miss Deborah won’t care what we look like. Everything will be all right when we get to Marymoor.” It had to be. They couldn’t go back to Newgarth. It would be the death of Mrs Isabel to return to her brother and that damp cottage, Bessie was sure, even if he didn’t carry out his threat to lock her away.

They came to a tiny inn and knocked on the back door to check again that they were on the right road. “Better safe than sorry,” said Bessie.

“Oh, yes. Marymoor is about seven miles away if you could go straight across the tops,” the innkeeper’s wife told them, “but the road twists about something shocking. Come and sit down by the fire for a minute. You look chilled to the marrow. Come far, have you?”

It was hard to leave the warmth of her kitchen and the simple kindness which had made her give them a place by the fire and provide a bowl of porridge for each of them without asking any payment.

“Should we perhaps hire a trap?” Isabel whispered as they left.

“I daren’t spend the rest of our money,” Bessie whispered back. “What if Deborah isn’t there? What should we do then if we’d nothing left?”

They were both silent, then Isabel nodded agreement. If they were found wandering without any money or possessions, they’d be accused of being vagrants and sent to the poorhouse, because parishes were very careful not to let beggars settle and become a charge on the poor rates. “I’ll make it up to you one day, Bessie.”

“Ah, get on with you! We’ve stayed together this long. Did you think I was going to leave you now just because I’m a bit uncomfortable? Besides, I don’t have anyone left except you and Deborah.”

But although they both tried to keep up a cheerful face in front of the other, they had nearly reached the end of their strength and they knew it. Each mile seemed longer and each hill steeper as they trudged on.

When they found a shepherd’s shelter, Bessie said firmly. “It’s time we settled down for the night. No use pressing on in the dark. We don’t want to break an ankle.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

They lay down in the most sheltered corner, huddling together for comfort as much as warmth, glad of their extra layers of clothing.

Bessie prayed that the next day would be their last on the road. It had to be. They were both exhausted.

Isabel prayed they would find Deborah in happier circumstances and never have to ask her brother for help again.

Neither slept well.

* * * *

On the way back to Newgarth, Walter Lawrence’s groom stopped to rest his horse and warm himself up a bit in Rochdale. He chose a quiet inn and found a bench near the fire, flirting idly with the maid who served him.

“We been getting a lot of strangers here lately,” she said. “Nearly caught two fugitives yesterday. Fancy two old women being wanted like that!”

He stiffened. “Two old women?”

Nothing loathe, she told him the story of the reward she had nearly earned and the way the old women had left half their possessions behind—which just showed they were guilty—and how the landlady had taken the things and not given her anything, though she’d been the one to recognise them for what they were.

When her mistress called her over sharply and told her to get on with her work, she tossed her head and slouched away. The groom sat lost in thought. He didn’t know whether to go back and tell Frank what he’d heard or go straight to Mr Lawrence. In the end he plumped for Frank, because he’d be the one who did what was necessary.

With a sigh he bought himself a lantern on a stick and got ready to ride out again, awkward though it was travelling after dark. Dusk was falling and it looked like being a wet, cloudy night, so he’d make slow progress. But he’d travelled the road before and knew it was clearly marked. He didn’t want Mr Lawrence thinking he’d shirked his duty.

His master would be very pleased if he and Frank caught the two old women for him. And if you served him well, Mr Lawrence always rewarded you.

* * * *

Deborah didn’t manage to get Matthew on his own until they retired for the night.

“I found something out today,” she said as soon as he had closed and locked their bedchamber door.

“Oh?”

“The man staying at the inn is my uncle’s henchman. I know him as Frank Netton, but he’s calling himself Chadding here.” She saw she had his full attention and went on, eager to share all she knew with him. “He’s a nasty sort. Every now and then he rides off and doesn’t come back for several days, and when he does my uncle always looks smug. I can only suppose he was sent after me.”

“He’s also been seen talking to Elkin,” Matthew said, “and he’s carrying a pistol and has a mask in his luggage.” He grinned at her shock. “John just happened to notice them when he was checking the man’s room.”

He sat down on the bed and patted the space beside him, putting his arm round her shoulders as she joined him, then wondering if this was wise when every time he touched her his wits scattered. “Do you think your uncle will come here to visit us?” He gave a short laugh. “We shall be a happy household if he does—him and the Elkins.”

“He might come, though to what purpose I can’t imagine now that I’m married.” She leaned against him, sighing and resting her head on his shoulder.

Matthew didn’t allow himself to pull her closer. “His interests and Elkins coincide there. If I were not here, you’d own Marymoor and either of them might take advantage of that.”

“I wouldn’t let them.”

“You might not be able to stop them.”

“Matthew, why do you let Elkin stay on here? We all know he wants you dead and has tried to arrange that. We could let his mother stay and ask him to leave. I don’t care what people may think. I want you safe.”

He gave in to temptation, picked up her hand and carried it to his mouth. “And I want you safe as well, my dear.” His eyes held hers as he added, “Above all I want our marriage and life together to prosper. Therefore I think it better if we eliminate all threats now. If Elkin is here under my roof, I can at least keep an eye on his comings and goings. He isn’t aware of it, but I have one or two friends in the village who are keeping me informed. Though only you could know Chadding’s real identity.”

Another silence, then he added, “I wonder when he and Elkin will find their interests no longer coincide? It’ll be interesting to see what happens then.”

As she shivered involuntarily, he gave her a quick hug. “Let’s go to bed, Deborah.”

She looked at him and decided to risk saying it. “Together? As man and wife?”

His breath stopped in his throat and for a few seconds he could only stare at her. “Is that what you truly want?”

“Yes.”

“Even now?”

“Oh, yes. Especially now.” She wanted no one to be able to declare the marriage invalid because it wasn’t consummated, but most of all she wanted him. Just—wanted him.

He pulled her closer and used one fingertip to raise her chin and kiss her. As she stared at him, innocent but willing, his breath caught in his throat and he realised how fond he had grown of her. So quickly and easily had it happened that it filled him with wonder. “I want it too, lass. Very much.” He smiled into her clear eyes. “Let me undress you, then,” he said softly. “And trust me. I shall deal with you very gently this first time.”

Her breathing quickened as she nodded. She did trust him. In the midst of danger and deceit she had found him and she wanted to be his true wife more than she had ever wanted anything in her life before.

Delicately he removed her clothes one by one, kissing her, caressing her, making her whole body hum with anticipation.

“Should we not put out the candles,” she whispered, feeling her cheeks grow hot as he exposed her breasts and bent to kiss them, too, an act which had her writhing beneath his touch.

His voice was low and husky. “No, my little love, we should not. I want to see you as I make love to you. It’s part of the pleasure. I hope you want to see me, too.”

She knew not what she wanted, but when he led her onwards she followed willingly. She had expected pain, but got none, had expected it to happen quickly and found long, languorous pleasure instead, until she found herself begging him to take her.

With a groan of both pleasure and relief, he thrust inside her, feeling her stiffen for a moment, then relax with him into the age-old rhythms of love.

Afterwards, he pulled her back into his arms and held her close. “We’re man and wife now, Deborah Pascoe. Body and soul.”

“I’m glad of it. It was—wonderful. I didn’t realise . . .”

He could easily have taken her again, for she roused his manhood more quickly than any woman he had ever met, but he restrained himself, afraid of making her sore and uncomfortable. He wanted her to find their couplings a thing of joy.

She fell asleep quickly, nestled trustingly against him.

He took longer to fall asleep, because he had so many things to consider. So far he had let Elkin have his head. Now he wanted this mess over and done with, wanted his wife safe.

It was time to set a trap, to flush out the conspirators.

Chapter 10

Dr Lethbury came out of Mrs Elkin’s room with a puzzled frown, holding the bottle containing the remainder of the draught he had sent. Deborah followed him out and watched him walk to the end of the landing where he held it up against the window. He squinted at the contents through the dark green glass, shook the remaining liquid and took the stopper out to sniff it.

“I can’t understand it,” he said in a low voice. “This mixture has never failed to help before and I’m always extremely careful to use the best ingredients. But the liquid looks—well, thicker. Maybe I’m imagining things.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the door of Elkin’s room move slightly, almost but not quite closed.

“Perhaps we should go and talk privately in the library,” she suggested, tugging at the doctor’s arm to get his attention, then indicating Elkin’s door with a jerk of her head.

“Hmm? What? Oh, yes. Of course.”

As they moved towards the stairs, Elkin stepped out of his room to block their way, radiating anger. “Ah! The very man I wish to see. I have to tell you, sir, that I am dissatisfied with your treatment of my mother. Grossly dissatisfied! And as for this!” He snatched the bottle out of the doctor’s hand and brandished it at him. “It’s useless. Absolutely useless! Hasn’t helped her in the slightest”

As the doctor reached out to take it back, Elkin took a step backwards and stumbled. The bottle flew out of his hand, hit the top step and slid over the edge, bouncing down the stairs and gathering momentum to smash to pieces on the hall floor.

“Damnation!” Elkin exclaimed. “I cry pardon, Cousin Deborah, for making a mess.”

“It can be cleared up,” she said quietly. She had not missed the gleam of triumph in his eyes as the bottle smashed, nor did she think he had dropped it by accident.

Elkin turned back to Dr Lethbury. “I want to talk to you about how you’ve been treating my mother.”

The doctor regarded him coldly. “Later, if you please. At the moment Mrs Pascoe and I are in the middle of an important discussion.”

“I would have thought your patient came first,” Elkin sneered.

“This is Mrs Pascoe’s house, not yours,” the doctor snapped. “Kindly remember the duty we both owe to our hostess.”

Elkin glared at him, swelling with anger.

“I’ll send Merry to fetch you when we’ve finished, Mr Elkin,” Deborah said hastily, gesturing to the doctor to lead the way downstairs. Avoiding the shards of broken glass and splatters of milky fluid at the bottom, she ushered him into the library. “Please excuse me for a minute. I’ll get Merry to clear up the mess.”

Dr Lethbury went to stand by the window, fingers drumming on the sill. He had no doubt that some emetic agent had been added to the draught, but there was no way of proving it now. There was only one person who could have done it, but to treat one’s own mother like that was beyond shameful. He saw Elkin come into view outside, pacing up and down the terrace outside their window. “Look at him!” he muttered to himself. “You can dress a person up in fine garments but cruelty shows on the human face. Ralph was right not to leave Marymoor to that one.”

When Deborah returned she closed the library door carefully and joined the doctor by the window. “One would think Mr Elkin was trying to intimidate us by pacing up and down outside this room.”

“I’m sure he is. But I hope I am not so easily intimidated.”

“I sometimes wonder whether I’m too suspicious of Elkin.”

“If you are, then so am I,” he said quietly. “Dropping that bottle today was no accident. In my opinion, my dear lady, you cannot be suspicious enough—given the circumstance—or too careful of your own safety and health. Do not eat anything with which he could have tampered.”

She sighed. “We can’t prove anything against him, though! And if we turn him and his mother out without proof, ill as she is, people will cry shame on us. I’m a newcomer to the district, while the Elkins have lived nearby for a long time.”

“They may have lived in the district, but they haven’t been good landlords and the family fortunes have been in decline for the past two decades. They have no land left now, beyond a barren moorland acre or two, and they even had to sell their house, so now live in a crumbling place that used to belong to the bailiff. The father, James Elkin, was heartily disliked and things have gone from bad to worse with the son, who is, I am told, another unlucky gambler.”

“And yet Elkin doesn’t appear in need now. Look at his clothes. They’re new and very fine, must have cost a great deal.”

“This change has only occurred in the past year or so. Before that his clothes were shabby, then suddenly he seemed to have money again, explaining it as some lucky gambling in London. But he hasn’t moved from the bailiff’s house, which they tell me is in a parlous condition, so one has to wonder.”

He smiled at her look of surprise. “We doctors hear a great deal of gossip, you know.” Then his smile faded. “I pity Mrs Elkin, I do indeed. That poor woman had a miserable marriage and is now in her son’s power, for her jointure was all spent by her husband.” He shook his head in strong disapproval, then asked, “What exactly does Matthew say about him?”