Fenella J. Miller (19 page)

Eliza exclaimed in delight. ‘I have the solution. If we leave the shutter as it is, against the wall we can stack furniture in front of it. I believe that will be enough to prevent anyone getting in.’

By the time the three women had finished the only furniture that remained for their use was the circular table and the four chairs; everything else was pushed up against the two entrances.

Eliza looked round, convinced she’d thwarted her captor, at least for the moment. The only point of vulnerability was where the shutter would not close across the window. They had stretched the second one out and with both curtains drawn, and two armchairs piled one on top of the other in the space, she really thought that they would be safe.

       ‘I think we’ve finished here, thank you both so much. It’s a good thing there’s no balcony because the only way in will be from the top of a ladder. I doubt that one man, so precariously balanced, could break through our barricade even where the shutter is missing.’

       Sarah had helped Jane light the two oil lamps and several candelabra for although it was still early afternoon the room was almost black. The shutters and the heavy curtains shut out not only the sunlight, but muffled the sound from outside.

       Eliza frowned when she realized that she wouldn’t be able to hear Fletcher arriving. She hoped this would not be an obstacle to his success, she was convinced that all they had to do now was remain calm until rescue arrived.

       ‘Well, Miss Sarah, is the food ready? I declare I am starving; it’s a very long time since I had my breakfast.’

Sarah giggled. ‘Yes, it’s all ready, but I think you had all better go and wash your faces and hands. You are very dusty and dirty and it’s not polite to come to the table like that.’

       Eliza stared into the mantel mirror and, by the light of the flickering candles, could see that her face was indeed smudged beyond redemption. She noticed that Jane’s hair had parted company with her cap and was hanging in disarray around her shoulders; her face was also streaked with grime and cobwebs.

       Eliza smiled at her reflection and turned to the others. ‘Come along, we had better do as we’ve been bid. The water will still be warm in the dressing room. We’ve achieved our aims. We shall be quite safe in here until help comes.’       

Chapter Seventeen

Eliza doubted that Sarah understood why they were all cooped up in a darkened room in the middle of the day. They were all going to have to devote a lot of attention to her if their incarceration was not to be made unbearable.

       After eating a hearty lunch Jane and Sarah cleared the table and took the tray back into the cooler dressing room. Whilst they were busy Ann spoke, her face concerned.

       ‘I didn’t like to say anything, miss, whilst Miss Sarah was in the room, but just come and look out the window. There’s something going on. There’s dozens of men out there.’

       Eliza hurried across; her abigail stepped aside to allow her to wedge herself between the corner of the room and the two pieces of furniture then press her face into the small gap.

       Ann was quite right, there was unusual activity in the grounds. It looked like all the male staff, including some of the footman, were looking for something. She couldn’t hear what they were shouting and didn’t dare to move the furniture and open window in order to listen more closely.

       ‘Yes, there’s something going on. We shall have to wait until we get a second message under the door from Mrs Turner. She told us Jethro has disappeared – I think they must be searching for him.’ Her voice trailed away and she knew with a sickening certainty what the men outside were really doing. They looking for a corpse. She didn’t need to see any more. Jethro was dead, murdered by that odious monster who had intimated as much in the carriage.

She moved away from the window like an old woman, knowing that the groom would still be alive if he had not offered to help them. His death was on her conscience. She tottered back to the table. Collapsing on to one of the chairs she dropped her head into her hands with a sob of despair.

 How had it come to this? Three days ago she had been so happy - about to announce her engagement to a man she had recognized as being her soul-mate the minute she’d set eyes on him.

       Now her life was in ashes. Whatever happened next, nothing would bring poor Jethro back to life. She knew she was grieving before her fears had been confirmed, but Wydale’s eyes had told her what had happened. It was only a matter of time before the men searching the ground would come across his body.

       If there captor was prepared to murder someone whose only crime had been to offer assistance, then what hope was there for the rest of them? Eliza looked around the room, it seemed safe enough, but she knew that somehow that monster would get to them. Where were Fletcher and Edmund? Why didn’t they come?      

 ‘We must pray together, Ann; pray that Mr Reed and Mr Fox arrive before Lord Wydale comes to fetch me.’

Fletcher turned to Edmund. ‘I intend to marry Eliza, whatever happens, I have a special licence in my pocket.’

       ‘There will be no need to use that, Mr Reed. Both my sisters will come out of this safe and sound; then you and Eliza can have the wedding that she always dreamed of. I shall march down the aisle with my sister on my arm in front of all our friends and family.’

       ‘God willing! I have sent a note to my man, who is waiting to hear from me at my estate, Hendon Manor. Looking at the map, I estimate that Winterton Hall is no more than ten miles from my home. I have asked Sam to bring two of my men and join us at Newfield. I have also asked for my coachman to bring a closed carriage to transport the ladies.’

       ‘How far is it from London to your estate, sir? If we are leaving within the hour, surely your man will not be able to join us in time?’

       ‘Never fear, Edmund, I have already sent a groom, if he gallops all the way he should be there not long after we leave here. They should be able to cover the miles easily and join us before dark.’

The three men clattered out on to the cobbles of Grosvenor Square in slightly more than the hour. All carried pistols in their saddle bags. Fletcher was confident all eventualities had been covered. The route he had devised would take them across country, and through quieter lanes, he had no wish to draw attention to themselves. Wydale might have spies positioned, watching for him.

       It was about two o’clock when they arrived, hot and dusty at the White Hart. To all intents and purposes they were two gentlemen travelling together, accompanied by a male servant. Fletcher dismounted and tossed the reins of his sweating horse to a waiting ostler.

       ‘See to our mounts; we intend to rest here before continuing our journey.’

       The man nodded and touched his forelock before raising his hand to take the reins of Edmund’s mount. Roberts followed, leading his own horse. He had instructions to pick up any gossip from the men who worked at the inn.

       Inside it was cool and dark and appeared deserted. Fletcher looked around and seeing no-one he raised his voice and shouted for attention.

       He heard the sound of hurrying footsteps and a jovial red-faced man appeared. ‘Good afternoon, sirs, can I be of assistance?’

‘Yes, my good man. We require a room in which to remove the grime of our journey and whatever food you can provide at this time day.’

       ‘At once, sir. I shall send one of my girls to conduct you to a chamber. Do you wish to eat downstairs or shall I have a tray sent up?’

Fletcher pondered for a moment, it would probably be best to remain out of sight as long as possible. ‘Send up a tray; anything will do, bread and cheese, mutton pie, whatever you have available.’

       The man disappeared and moments later a young woman, in cap and fairly clean white apron, appeared. ‘Come this way, sirs, we have a room ready.’

       The chamber they were conducted to was on the front of the building, overlooking the deserted yard. Fletcher scarcely noticed the polished furniture and sparkling windows. He had more important matters to consider. ‘What arrangements have you made to meet Denver?’

       Edmund, who had been gazing out of the window, turned to face him. ‘He’s staying at the next village; it didn’t seem wise to be here, so close to Winterton Hall. The presence of a stranger might have caused remark amongst the locals. We’re to ride over to the Red Lion and rendezvous at four o’clock.’

       ‘Excellent, the horses should be rested and ready to continue by then. Is it far?’

       ‘No, two miles, but I’d better warn you, sir, the establishment he’s using is not half as grand as this. Not somewhere you’d chose to stay.’

       Fletcher chuckled. ‘Your man Denver sounds a stout fellow. Having a manservant one can trust is invaluable in circumstances like these.’

       Edmund looked at him with some surprise. ‘I had no idea you had been embroiled in abductions and such things on a regular basis, sir.’

       ‘I haven’t, you nincompoop. And stop calling me
sir
for God’s sake. I think, as we’re going to become brothers, sooner rather than later, it would be acceptable for you to use my given name.’

       The young man grinned, apparently pleased to be accepted as his equal. Edmund turned back at the sound of voices and the clatter of hoofs in the yard, curious to know who was arriving. His face blanched when he saw who dismounted. ‘It’s Denver. He would only come here in an emergency.’ He was about to rush from the room but Fletcher restrained him.

       ‘Hold on, lad, your man will find us soon enough.’ He watched, as the same ostler who had dealt with them appeared to take the reins of Denver’s hack. He saw them exchange a few words and then the two men walked together into the stables.

       ‘I think your valet has gone to speak to Roberts. It will seem less conspicuous if he comes up to speak to us. I’m sure we shall hear the news soon enough.’ A soft knock at the door caused them both to swing round.

‘Come in,’ Fletcher barked.

       The door opened and a pot-boy staggered in carrying a laden tray followed by the maid who had served Eliza and Sarah that morning. The girl curtsied and placed the two jugs of frothing porter on the table next to the tray.

       ‘Thank you, that will be all. We shall serve ourselves.’

       The two men ignored the food, they were more concerned with what information might be on its way from the stables. Edmund peered out of the window, but the yard remained empty. Fletcher paced, his face stern, his mind turning over the various possibilities that could have brought Denver out of hiding.

       He didn’t have long to wait before a second bang on the door announced Roberts wished to be let in.

       ‘Well, what’s the news? Why has Denver ridden over here instead of waiting for us to come to him this afternoon?’ Edmund demanded, pre-empting Fletcher, who was about to ask the same question.

       ‘It’s grave news, sir, very grave indeed. It seems that Miss Fox, Miss Sarah and the two maid-servants managed to escape from Winterton Hall this morning with the help of a groom. He drove them part of the way and then they walked across the fields. Denver had already taken up his position and saw them walk safely to this very inn.’

       ‘Go on, man, what happened next? I take it from your demeanour that the outcome was not a happy one.’

       Roberts shook his head. ‘No, sir, it wasn’t. Somehow their flight was discovered and Lord Wydale was waiting for them when the coach stopped to change horses. It seems they returned here in his carriage, but didn’t come in again, just stopped long enough for a message to be given to Ann and Jane to return immediately to the hall.’

Roberts appeared to be having difficulty controlling his emotions. Fletcher watched him, knowing that whatever was coming he was going to like it even less than the news that Eliza had failed in her attempt to escape.

       ‘Well, sir, Denver thought it would be a good idea to go and talk to the groom, find out who he was and suggest that he left the hall at once, and came to join him where he would be safe from reprisals when the girl’s disappearance was discovered. He had almost got within hailing distance, when two men emerged from behind the trees and bludgeoned the groom to death in front of his very eyes.’

       ‘The devil take it! How dreadful.’ Edmund clutched the back of a chair.

Fletcher was made of sterner stuff. ‘Pray continue your story, Roberts. What did Denver do?’

       ‘He could do nothing; there was no point in revealing his presence. The two assassins dragged the corpse into the bushes and then sent the carriage and horse galloping back towards the house as though there had been a mishap.’

       ‘Thank you; go back down and tell Denver to wait in the stables. We shall join him presently. Make sure you get something to eat too – we’re all going to need our wits about us before this day is over.’

       He waited until Edmond and he were alone again before speaking. ‘This is a very bad business, Edmund. Wydale appears to have stepped over the line. He has always been reckless, but I never thought him a cold-blooded killer. We must eat and then ride over to Winterton Hall and pray that we can release the girls before his cronies arrive.’

Neither men had much appetite, but both knew it was imperative they ate or they would not have the energy to fight. They rejoined Denver and Roberts in the stables half an hour later. Fletcher left a message with the friendly landlord that Sam was to follow on to Winterton Hall when he arrived with the coach and two extra men.

       The horses had barely had an hour’s rest after their strenuous journey and he knew it would be foolish to press them. ‘If we go across the fields we shall be visible for miles. Is there a more private route we can take, Denver?’

       ‘There is, sir, if you follow me, we can take the track I’ve been using. No one has accosted me, so I’m pretty sure it’s safe.’