Danice Allen (27 page)

“Yes,” said Jack. “Why? Is there some reason we shouldn’t?”

“Does Mrs. Grimshaw know you’re coming?” he inquired with his brows drawn together in a concerned frown.

“Not exactly,” Jack admitted warily.

“Then be careful,” the innkeep advised. “People who have ventured onto the island despite the signs declaring it to be private property have occasionally been shot at.”

At Amanda’s exclamation of surprise, he added, “Never hit, mind you, just shot at. But Mrs. Grimshaw don’t like trespassers. And watch out for the dogs, too. They’re mean devils.” He grinned a little nervously. “The young folk hereabouts say Grimshaw’s a witch.”

These bits of offered advice and rural bogeyman philosophy did not reassure Amanda about the conditions in which her sibling had been living. What a dreadful atmosphere for a child! Seclusion … and a
witch
for a caregiver! It was all perfectly horrible!

Jack warned Theo, Harley, and Joe about possible gunfire, which information understandably put all three of them in a bit of a fret. Then she and Jack and Lord Serling reboarded the carriage and headed into the wilderness that would take them to Thornfield Cottage. They lighted the lantern inside the coach and bumped along through the dark at a snail’s pace.

By the rather forbidding expression on Lord Serling’s face during moments when there was no conversation, Amanda was afraid he was regretting his generous offer to stand as one of her two gallant escorts. But she realized he was probably only putting himself to so much trouble for his brother’s sake … simply to keep his eye on Jack. Though there had been no embraces when Lord Serling found his brother, it was obvious to Amanda that he was deeply devoted to and very fond of Jack.

But who could not be fond of Jack? thought Amanda, staring longingly at his strong profile as he looked out the carriage window. She had never imagined she’d have this extra time with him, but she suspected it was only going to make it harder on her when she finally had to say good-bye to him for good. Still, it was wonderful of him to be so concerned for her safety and to want to lend her emotional support during this trying period.

She was very glad, too, and immensely relieved to discover that Jack had a brother and friends that would help to restore his memory. And even though she’d felt all along that Jack wasn’t married, she was still surprised that such an eligible fellow hadn’t been snapped up by now. Of course, he didn’t appear to
want
to be married, which was a very good reason for Amanda not to get her hopes up even though he was apparently still available.

After what seemed like an eternity, the deplorably bumpy road ended at an open stretch of beach. There had been no shots fired at them, but everyone’s nerves were frayed just the same. It wasn’t hard to get jittery when you imagined bullets zinging past your ears. Theo hollered “whoa,” and the horses stopped.

Jack assisted Amanda as she eagerly climbed out of the carriage and looked around. It felt good to be free of the claustrophobic wilderness of beech trees and poplars they’d just passed through and to be standing on open land. The tide was in, which made the beach seem rather narrow. In the rays of the setting sun, the sand appeared pale butter-yellow, and the small, frothy waves that lapped at the shore were limned with gold.

At the horizon, the deep orange orb of the sun was sinking into the sea, leaving behind a sky full of spun-sugar clouds in colors from fiery red to palest pink. Seagulls cawed and flapped through the cool, humid air.

“Why, it’s absolutely beautiful here!” exclaimed Amanda, taking in a pivotal view of the place. “But where is the cottage?” She could just imagine how lovely it would look, a snug, white-washed bungalow with creepers on its walls and arbors of roses, and with a little fence enclosing a tidy garden.

Amanda saw Julian touch Jack’s elbow, and they glanced grimly at each other. They were looking past the carriage and farther inland. Amanda followed the direction of their gazes and saw that there was a gradual rise of land that finally amounted to a small hill. Unlike much of the landscape, the hill was not entirely overgrown by trees but was dotted here and there by an occasional poplar. And at the top of the hill was a house—an absolutely wretched, run-down pile of rotting wood with a sun-blistered door and a sunken roof.

Amanda clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from exclaiming aloud. Oh, it was dreadful,
too
dreadful to imagine her brother or sister living in that terrible place! And worse still, it appeared to be presently uninhabited.

Yes, even worse than
living
in such abject poverty was the possibility that her sibling had been thrust out into the cruel world to fend for himself. But no candlelight spilled through the forlorn cracks of the building, nor was there smoke coming from the crumbling chimney to give Amanda hope that someone still resided there. The place looked utterly desolate.

“Don’t despair, m’dear,” came Jack’s consoling voice near her ear. He wrapped one arm around her waist and pressed her against his side. “We’ll go up and investigate. Though it appears abandoned, there may be something inside that can give us a clue as to where its usual occupants have gone off to. Possibly they aren’t gone for good. Maybe they’re just somewhere else on the island.”

But where? Amanda thought morosely. It was dusk, time for children to be inside having a hot supper before being tucked into a warm bed. But with no smoke coming from the chimney, how could there be a hot supper? And she would wager her farm and every shilling she owned that there was no warm bed waiting, either.

Lord Serling remained silent and carried a lantern ahead of them as Jack steadied Amanda with an arm around her shoulder as he walked her up the muddy path to the house.

Jumpy and suspicious and with his blunderbuss at the ready, Theo took Joe with him and scouted the beach. Harley stayed with the horses.

Amanda tried to compose herself but couldn’t help the tears that trailed slowly down her cheeks. “I’m too late, Jack,” she told him bleakly. “The child is already gone!”

“We don’t know that for sure, Amanda darling. Don’t cry.” He gave her a reassuring squeeze, but Amanda couldn’t be comforted. Who knew what had become of her brother or sister? If Mrs. Grimshaw had abandoned her charge, the child could be dead. Or sold to the slave trade. Or made to work as a chimney sweep!

Amanda’s vivid imagination tortured her as they walked toward the sagging steps of the old cottage.

But before they’d gained their objective, Amanda heard a deep snarl. Frightened, she looked up and saw yellow eyes and sharp canine teeth reflected in the light from the lantern. A huge, black, short-haired dog was barring their path.

Then another growl was heard behind them. Aware of the danger of sudden movement, Amanda turned her head slowly and saw the menacing shape of another large black dog, crouched for attack.

“Don’t move, little brother,” Lord Serling said in a fierce undertone. “They’ll go for our throats.”

“I’m not a Johnny Raw, big brother. Did you think I was going to kick up my heels doing the Scottish fling?” Jack replied through gritted teeth.

Amanda was shaking from head to toe. “What … what are we … we going to do, Jack?”

“Where’s that damned Theo when you need him? He’s always nosing about when he’s not wanted, but when real danger rears its ugly head, he’s off parading up and down the beach and collecting seashells!”

“What would you do if they were Frenchies, Jack?” Lord Serling asked. “You’re the soldier.”

“But I was fending off swords and bullets, Julian! I never let the Frenchies get close enough to
bite
me!”

“There’s a hefty stick on the ground yonder,” said Lord Serling, holding himself ramrod straight and speaking out of the side of his mouth. “Maybe I’ll lunge for it and use it to scare them off.”

“If anyone’s going to ’lunge,’ Julian, it had better be me,” said Jack. “I’m faster than you.”

“But
I’m
more precise.”

The dogs were inching closer, and Amanda could see the drool slathering off their tongues and dripping out of the comers of their mouths. “Oh, don’t do anything, please!” she implored them. “They’re just waiting for you to move so they can attack!”

“We can’t stay frozen like this forever, m’dear,” said Jack. “Don’t worry. Just do—”

A strange-sounding “meow” was heard coming from the direction of the carriage. Surprised, they carefully turned their heads to see what was making the catlike noise and saw Harley inside the carriage, sticking his head through the window. Making absurd faces and yowling like a cat, he was taunting the dogs to come after him so they’d leave Amanda and the others alone.

The dogs seemed indecisive at first, turning their heads toward the carriage with their small, pointed ears pricked up, then turning back to Amanda, Jack, and Lord Serling with flattened ears and gnashing teeth. But Harley continued to yowl and had even forced his rail-thin body halfway out the window opening and was wildly waving his arms.

This was too tempting for the dogs. They could not resist the lure of a moving target. They dashed off toward the carriage, howling like the hounds of hell.

“Harley!” cried Amanda.

“Don’t worry about him,” Jack said with a touch of appreciative amusement as he watched the dogs go loping down the hill. “Harley’s smart enough to pull his head inside when vicious dogs are snapping at it. You ought to be more worried about the paint on your carriage.”

Amanda could see this was so. Harley had immediately disappeared inside the carriage and thrown down the leather window flap. He was perfectly safe, but the dogs were jumping up and down and scraping the carriage with their sharp claws.

“Oh, dear. Theo will be livid,” said Amanda.

“He’s got more to worry about than the paint on the carriage,” said Lord Serling. “When the dogs catch sight of him or Joe, they’ll go after them with a vengeance.” He took a quick visual appraisal of the area and said, “Ah, yes. That will do.” Then he turned back to Jack. “There’s some sort of barn or shack over there, Jack. We can lure the dogs inside and barricade the door. Let’s search the house and see if there’s some food to use for bait.”

Moving quickly before the dogs got tired of snarling and snapping at the carriage, Lord Serling, Jack and Amanda hurried through the unlocked door of the dark cottage. Lord Serling set the lantern down on a table just inside what appeared to be the kitchen area and immediately began flinging open cupboard doors.

Jack was busily searching for food, too, and it was he who found a hard half loaf of bread. He sniffed it. “It’s quite stale, but those beasts won’t notice a little mold, I daresay.”

“It appears to be the only thing edible in the house,” observed Lord Serling, closing the last cupboard door.

“If you can call it edible,” said Jack, wrinkling his nose.

“It will have to do. Come, Jack.”

Jack caught Amanda’s arm as he moved to the door. “You stay inside, Amanda. We’ll be back in a pig’s whisper, just as soon as we’ve got those bloodthirsty hounds locked up.”

Amanda nodded, then moved to the window and watched nervously. The dogs started running up the hill as soon as Jack and Lord Serling came out of the house. She clasped her hands tightly together and prayed their plan would work. Jack and Lord Serling held out the hunks of bread and waggled them alluringly, all the while jogging backward toward the shack. You could almost see the dogs’ eyes narrow and fasten on the food. Just as they got to the open door of the shack, with the dogs fast behind them, Jack and Lord Serling threw the bread inside.

Naturally the dogs’ first and most instinctual reflex was to go after the food. As soon as the second dog’s tail disappeared inside the shack, Jack and Lord Serling closed the doors and pressed their backs against it. As there appeared to be no latch or lock of any kind to secure the door, Lord Serling held it shut while Jack pulled over two heavy bales of hay and pushed them against the door.

Amanda gave a sigh of relief. At least the dogs were taken care of. She suspected that as well as being trained as guard dogs, they were behaving especially aggressively because they were hungry.

Hungry.
Like her little brother or sister might have been in the last few months after her father’s money quit coming.

Amanda slowly turned around and looked at the house that had been home to her brother or sister.

Poverty. The sparse furnishings, threadbare curtains, bare floors, empty cupboards, and cold grate screamed of poverty. It was a small, cramped hovel of a place, and Amanda couldn’t imagine a child flourishing in such a cheerless atmosphere. She would have thought that the amount of money her father sent would have supported them in better comfort than what she saw evidence of today. It made her suspicious as to exactly how Mrs. Grimshaw spent the ready.

Her eyes filled with tears as she began to walk slowly about the small room that combined a sort of parlor with the kitchen. She trailed her hand over the scarred top of a chest, expecting her fingers to be dirty from several months’ worth of dust built up on the furniture. But to her surprise, though her fingers were dusty, they weren’t
that
dusty. Dashing her tears away, she looked about her in a more alert and inquiring manner. If the house had been abandoned months ago, there would be more cobwebs in the comers and the dust would be thicker.

She turned quickly to inspect the fireplace. Though it was empty of wood and quite cold, the ashes looked undisturbed and were, therefore, probably only a few hours old. A hope began to blossom in Amanda’s chest.

With her heart beating rapidly, she hurried to the only inside door in the small house and opened it. As she expected, it was a bedchamber. And the bed looked as though it had been recently slept in! A much-mended multicolored quilt was thrown rather haphazardly over some rumpled sheeting and a small pillow.

Amanda was much encouraged and hurried into the parlor when she heard Jack and Lord Serling reenter the house.

“Jack!” she cried, rushing forward and grabbing hold of his hands. “I don’t think they’ve gone for good. The bed looks recently slept in, and the ashes on the grate are new. Someone is still living here!”