Miss Winbolt and the Fortune Hunter (23 page)

‘No, Kidman. I am quite sure that this is the key, and if you'll come with me to Charlwood I'll show you where you can use it.'

‘There's no need for you to come. You can
tell
me where!'

Maria was prepared for this. ‘I really can't. It's too difficult to explain, I need to show you in person.'

He looked at her suspiciously, but then nodded his head. ‘Walter will keep an eye on you.'

They left for Charlwood.

 

Meanwhile, Laura had been telling Emily about Maria Fenton's visit the previous afternoon. ‘She was really very kind, Aunt Emily. She gave James and me sweets and came on a walk with us, too. But I think she likes boys better than girls. She talked a lot to James—all about his silly treasure trove.'

‘James? What's this? I thought your uncle told you not to say anything about treasure.'

‘But this was different! Mrs Fenton is a
friend
of Uncle William's. I had to tell her, Aunt Emily! She was really interested. She knows all about Charlwood, you see.'

‘She certainly does,' said Emily with a look at Rosa. ‘Did you show her your…any of your treasure?'

‘Oh, no, I told her I couldn't, because Uncle William had put it away.'

‘Good! It's better to be safe than sorry. You didn't say where he had put it, did you?'

James hesitated. ‘I…I don't think so…'

‘Yes, you did, James!' Laura said decisively. ‘You said he had put it in his secit…sectri…secataire!'

Emily exchanged another look with Rosa. ‘James,' she said calmly, ‘I think I'd like another look at that picture. Would you like to show us where it is?'

James gave a cry of outrage when the secretaire desk was opened and he discovered that the picture
was missing, but Emily was not really surprised. It was all too coincidental—Maria's visit when they were out, her desire to spend time with children she had up to then ignored, and her clever questioning. She really was a ruthless, devious and dangerous woman. James was a bright little boy, and fiercely protective of his treasures, but he had noticed nothing odd about her questions. Perhaps Miss Anstey might have, but she had been left to look after Laura, and had not heard all of Maria's conversation.

James was inconsolable, and Emily had a hard job persuading him to wait until his uncle came home before setting out to look for the picture himself.

‘I thought Mrs Fenton was nice,' he sobbed. ‘I didn't know she just wanted to steal my picture. I know Uncle William told me not to tell anyone, but I thought she was his friend.'

‘It was very wicked of Mrs Fenton to take your picture, James, but I think it will be quite safe,' Emily said, wiping his face with her handkerchief. ‘There's really no need to get so upset. I'm almost certain it has only been borrowed. When Uncle William comes back, we shall go and get it. He will know what to do.'

‘I don't want to wait! She had no right to take it, and I shall tell her so. I want to go straight away. Now!'

Emily pointed out that it would not be long before William returned and worked hard to persuade James that he would have a better chance of recovering his picture if he waited till then. He wasn't entirely convinced, but eventually calmed down enough to go to his morning lessons. Meanwhile, Emily and Rosa had a lot to talk about. They were both amazed at Maria Fenton's audacity. They had known for some time that Edric Fenton had lived on the wrong side of the law, but,
though Emily had never liked or trusted Maria Fenton, it had never occurred to her that his wife was just as bad. She said as much to Rosa and wondered, too, how Kidman and the others had found out so quickly where the picture was.

‘I suppose we should be relieved that Maria, not Kidman, came to collect it,' Rosa said. ‘Things could have been a lot worse.'

Emily nodded. ‘I agree. And though I don't know how they found out, I would be willing to wager that if that picture isn't already back at Charlwood it soon will be. I only hope it will be left there.'

James had just finished his lessons and was on his way to talk to Emily again about the picture. Unfortunately his sharp ears over heard this last bit. He was angry and very disappointed with his Aunt Emily. Had she no idea of how much the picture meant to him? ‘Hope it will be left there'! If she knew where it was now, why wasn't she taking him to get it back, instead of making him wait for Uncle William? He had a jolly good mind to go himself…

And it didn't take long for James to decide that that was just what he would do. He knew the way to Charlwood. It was a bit too far to walk, but the pony he had been given would take him. One of the stable boys was his friend—Jem would help him to saddle the pony and mount it. No need to tell him he was going for more than a ride round the park. Spurred on by righteous anger, James set off for Charlwood.

 

Emily was uneasy when James failed to appear for the afternoon walk—he was usually prompt. Laura said she had not seen him since the end of their morning lessons. The feeling of unease grew when she sent several
of the servants to look for him, and was told that he was nowhere in the house. Philip had been out on business all morning and was still not back, so James could not be with him. If he was down at the stables, he was due for a scolding! She went herself to see, but James was not there. And neither was his pony.

Seriously worried, she questioned the stable boys and one of the younger ones, a boy called Jem, told her that Master James had taken his pony for a ride in the park.

Emily knew instantly where James had gone, and it wasn't for a ride in the park! She wasted no time on further questions, but had a quick word with Rosa, changed, and, almost before her horse had been led out and saddled, she was back, ready to set off in pursuit.

 

William had finished the business of delivering the Valleron collection to the strong room at the bank the day before, but the hour had been too late to set out for Shearings. He had been invited to spend the night in Arlington Street, where he brought Lord Winbolt up to date on developments in Berkshire.

‘My congratulations! You and Emily have done an excellent piece of work between you. And now all that remains is for you to finish the job and marry her! Don't stand any nonsense, Ashenden. You're the man for her and she knows it.'

‘I still have to set my house free of Kidman, before I do.'

‘Ah, yes, ah, yes! Tell me, how do you suppose he would take it if he opened that panel and found the bag with nothing of value in it and the Valleron treasure gone?'

William paused for thought. ‘I should imagine,' he said slowly, ‘that he might well go insane. He has expended so much time and effort hunting those jewels, his mind is so fixed on owning them, that it might well turn his brain to discover they had gone.' He nodded his head, then said reassuringly, ‘But for the moment Kidman has no way of finding that out. The picture, the key to it all, is safely stored at Shearings, and without it they can't open the panel. Maria Fenton believes it is lost, and will tell Kidman so. They'll take time to work out what to do, and in the meantime I shall find some way of trapping them. It's no use just frightening them off. They have to be caught.'

Lord Winbolt frowned. ‘I'm not happy, Ashenden. We both know that Kidman is dangerous. I don't like the idea of Emily—or her brother and Rosa—being anywhere near him when he discovers he has been cheated of his prize.'

‘They won't be! I promise you, sir, that I will make very sure that Emily and the rest of your family are well clear of Charlwood when that happens.'

‘And when Kidman has gone, we can look for wedding bells?'

William said calmly, ‘I think that is up to the lady, sir.'

‘I tell you what, Ashenden. I like you, but if I have a fault to find in you it's that you're a bit over-cool in your attitude, a bit too well balanced. My girl doesn't show her feelings to everyone, but they run deep. I think she would be safe in your hands, but she could be badly hurt by someone who doesn't care enough for her.'

William had been twisting his glass of wine between his fingers and examining its colour in the candlelight.
Now he looked up and saw the anxiety in the faded eyes looking at him so intently. He met them frankly. ‘You may set your mind at rest, Lord Winbolt. I care more than I want to admit, even to you.' He took a sip of wine, and leaning back in his chair he went on, ‘If you had asked me six months ago if I would ever marry for love, I would have laughed at you. And, yes, my decision to ask Emily to be my wife was eminently well balanced and, if you like, cool. I needed someone to create a home for the children, and I thought she would agree because, in return, I was offering her a home of her own. We had enough interests in common to make for a pleasant relationship. And…' He hesitated, then went on, ‘You're right. Emily has a depth of feeling, a passion that surprised and de lighted me.'

‘That's not what I meant.'

‘I know. I know what you want of me, and I swear that now, whether Emily marries me or not, I care for her more than I ever thought I could care for any other being on this earth.' William said this calmly, but with such deep sincerity that Lord Winbolt was reassured, even when William went on with a smile, ‘But I would prefer her not to know that. It doesn't do wives any good at all to know how much we are at their mercy.'

‘Naturally not. You have my blessing, my boy.'

 

The next morning William finished the few bits of remaining business, went back to Arlington Street to bid Lord Winbolt goodbye, then set off for Shearings. He was glad to be going. Since his talk with Emily's grandfather the night before, he had felt impatient to see her again, had even felt anxious about her—for no good reason, as far as he knew. As the morning
went on this irrational feeling grew, and he wasted as little time as possible on the road, arriving at Shearings earlier than he had said, at about half past two in the afternoon.

‘William! William, thank God you're here!' Rosa met him at the door, her arms out stretched, her face white with worry.

‘What is it? Tell me!'

‘It's Emily! And James. And the picture. Oh, I don't know where to begin.' She burst into tears.

After signalling to the manservant that he should bring Mrs Winbolt something to restore her, William led her through to the small sitting room she generally used and sat her down. ‘Now tell me,' he said. ‘First, where is Emily?'

‘She's gone to Charlwood after James.'

‘I don't quite under stand. Why should James take it into his head to go to Charlwood? There isn't anyone there!'

‘Oh, William, I do so hope not!' Rosa burst into a fresh bout of weeping.

This was the point at which Philip arrived home and, after a shocked look at his wife, declared she was to go to bed immediately. At this Rosa grew more frantic than ever.

‘No, I must tell William all of it,' she said between her sobs. Philip took her into his arms and after a few minutes she was calm enough to tell the whole story.

William was appalled. His facile assumption that Emily and the others would be safe had not allowed for Maria Fenton's ingenuity and a small boy's determination. If Emily and James were at Charlwood at the moment when Kidman discovered the loss of the jewellery, there was no saying what could happen to
them. He shouted for Barnaby Drewitt to join him with fresh horses, and, after begging Philip to follow him as soon as Rosa was properly taken care of, he set off for Charlwood straight away.

J
ames was damp, shivering with cold, and cross. He had been so sure he knew the way to Charlwood, but he and Jonty seemed to have been plodding on for hours through endless lanes without getting anywhere! And it was raining. Now the pony had cast a shoe, and that meant he would have to stop. It had been impressed on him that a horse could go lame if he carried on riding it after this happened, and he didn't want his precious pony to go lame! Besides, what would Mr Winbolt say if it did? He slid down from Jonty's back and started to lead the pony back towards a farm house he had passed a few minutes before.

Here his situation improved a lot. When he told Mrs Pegg, the farmer's wife, that he was on his way from Shearings to Charlwood, she exclaimed, ‘Eh, young master, you're a good bit out of your way, and that's a fact! Come on, then, we'll get you warm and then we'll see what's to be done. Mr Pegg's not far away, I'll just send the lad for him. Meanwhile, sit yourself here.' She put him by the fire, and gave him a slice of bread and
butter and a hot drink of some delicious sweet stuff. James began to feel that the world was not such a bad place after all, especially as Jonty was taken to a warm stall to wait until the shoe could be put back on. When Mr Pegg came in, he wasted no time in arranging for James to be taken home to Shearings in the gig as soon as he was warm and dry again.

 

Emily, of course, knew nothing of this. She, and the stable lad she had pressed into service as a groom, were riding to Charlwood as fast as they could, only slowing down occasionally to make sure they were not missing James on the way. But they saw no one at all, probably because it had only just stopped drizzling and the lanes were very muddy. As they passed the Dower House, Emily slowed down to see if anyone was there, but she couldn't see a soul. The place was deserted. The men had probably given up for the day because of the rain.

They rode on up the drive, but she drew up when they were still some way from the house, dismounted and handed the reins to Jem. ‘Wait here,' she said. ‘I don't think we missed Master James on the way—he must be inside. But I have to check first.' She considered Jem and wondered if he was sensible enough for what she had in mind. He was competent enough at looking after the horses, but he was very young, and not the brightest lad in the stable. She said clearly and care fully, ‘Jem, I want you to stay out of sight of the house under these trees. Don't let anyone see you. If James should happen to arrive while I'm still inside, keep him with you. Whatever you do, don't let him follow me. Do you under stand?'

The boy nodded, and Emily walked on up the drive.
She looked round when she reached the entrance, but there was no sign of any horses or carriage. Maria couldn't have come yet. James was probably in the parlour, waiting for his picture to arrive. The boy had no idea what was at stake or how dangerous it was, and the sooner she collected him and got him away from Charlwood, the better. That wretched picture could and would wait, whatever he said! She walked through the hall to the door at the end and opened it.

‘Who's that?'

Kidman! Emily had heard that voice with its strange impersonal over tones before. She froze. Heaven forbid that James was in there with Kidman! Then a man she didn't remember seeing before came out of the parlour. When he saw her he said, ‘It's a woman.'

‘Bring her in here.' But Emily had already pushed past the man and was inside the parlour. Somehow or other she must get James out of there. If he hadn't already argued with them about his picture, she might still manage it as long as they didn't suspect she knew anything about the Valleron jewels. But once inside she stopped short. There was no sign of James. Maria Fenton was there, standing over by the panelled wall, and next to her was the tall man she had seen by the fountain in the garden.

‘Mr Kidman!' she said. ‘What are you doing here? It is Mr Kidman, isn't it? Or do you prefer to be called Mr K…Kavanagh when you're in the country?' Without waiting for his reply she swept on, ‘And there's Mrs Fenton, too! I didn't know you two knew each other. What on earth are you both doing in Charlwood?'

Kidman and Maria exchanged glances, but they said nothing.

‘Or did you think you might find Mrs Fenton's button
here?' Emily went on. ‘I suppose it might be—I understand you visited Charlwood quite recently with Sir William, did you not, ma'am?'

They stared at her and she felt cold at what she saw in their eyes. The masks were truly off, and danger was all round her. The tension in the room was palpable. James was clearly not here, and she herself must get away from them as soon as she could. If she could. She tried again. Hiding how afraid she was under an air of annoyance, she said, ‘You might at least give me the courtesy of an answer!' The second man had come up rather too close behind her, and she moved away from him. ‘Please keep your distance,' she said coldly. ‘I don't think I know you, and if I did, I would have no wish for you to come any nearer.'

‘You've met me all right,' he said, with an insolent smile. ‘At a very respectable ball, too. I'm Walter Fenton.'

Emily ignored him. She turned back to Kidman and said firmly, ‘I'm afraid I shall have to ask you all to go. Now!' The tension was emanating from him, not the others. He was almost vibrating with excitement. She waited, but he said nothing. She went on, ‘Very well. Since I can't force you to go myself, I shall have to leave you here. But I warn you, I shall be back in half an hour with someone who can.'

She turned to the door, but didn't reach it. Kidman spoke at last, but only to say, ‘Stop her, Fenton!'

The man behind Emily took her arms in a cruel grip. Shock and outrage gave her the courage to struggle furiously. ‘How dare you, sir! Let me go this instant!' she cried. But his grip only tightened until the pain was so severe she was afraid he was going to break her
arm, and she stayed still, wondering what would happen next.

Kidman was examining the panel in the wall. Without turning he said, ‘Put her in the turret room.'

‘What'll I do with her there?'

‘Whatever you like,' Kidman said in differently, his attention still on the panel. Then he swung back again. ‘No! Wait! I don't want you to waste any time at the moment. I need you with me. Leave her there. I'll deal with her myself later. Just gag her and lock her in.' He cast a glance full of dislike at Maria and added, ‘I need you here to keep an eye on this sister-in-law of yours. She's too ready to give in to temptation.' He added, ‘Maria, go and open the door for him, then check there's no one else outside. The key is on a hook next to the door. You can hand me the picture. I'll keep it till you're both back.'

Emily was marched out of the parlour to the oak door along the passage. She was being held so tightly that she could hardly breathe. Fenton said, ‘Quick, Sis! Don't you waste time, either. We don't want to leave him alone too long in that parlour. Take my cravat.' The cravat was used as a gag, and Maria took her own scarf to tie Emily's hands together behind. Then the two bundled her so roughly into the turret room that she tripped and fell. Then the door banged shut and she heard the key turn in the lock. She heard Maria's lighter foot steps hurrying out along the passage. She was going out as Kidman had ordered to see if there was anyone outside.

Emily lay on the floor in a daze. It had all happened so quickly that she had had hardly any time to take it in, and she lay hoping that Maria wouldn't see Jem, and praying that James was not with him if she did. She
strained to hear what was happening, and finally heard Maria coming back along the passage. Her voice was faint behind the thick ness of the oak door, but Emily heard her say, ‘It's all clear.' Emily breathed a sigh of relief. Jem had stayed hidden.

The sound of two pairs of foot steps hurrying back into the parlour, was followed by silence. After a moment she had recovered enough to try to sit up. It proved harder to manage than she had thought with her hands tied behind her back, and there were some painful mistakes, but she did it. It was easier after that to stand up. In the process she had discovered that Maria and Walter Fenton—she remembered him now, he had been at the Langleys' ball—had been in such a hurry to get back to see what Kidman was up to that they had been careless. The bonds round her wrists were already substantially slacker and after some wriggling and twisting of her hands and wrists she had loosened the knots in Maria's scarf to such an extent that in a very short time she had freed herself. The next step was to get rid of her gag, and her fingers were soon busy loosening the knots. Another few minutes and the gag was off, too. It had been so tight that she had been unable to breathe properly. Once it was removed, she felt much more like herself, and tried to take a cool look at her situation…

It was not a happy one. There was no way of getting out of the tower, no windows or other doors, and she was a prisoner here until someone unlocked the heavy oak door into the passage. The thought was not reassuring. It wouldn't be long now before Kidman discovered that the Valleron treasure was not in its hiding place, and it was almost too frightening to think of what he would do then. She thanked God that he couldn't have any
idea who had actually removed it, and wondered who would be his chief suspect. One of the others, perhaps? It looked as if none of the three in the parlour trusted either of the other two. She put her ear to the door and listened, but could hear nothing.

Suddenly there was a howl of rage, more like that of an animal, and then Kidman, obviously beside himself with rage, was shouting obscenities at his companions. Emily could hear Maria's screams mingling with shouts of protest from Walter Fenton, but everything was drowned by Kidman's demented roar. It was terrifying. Emily could not imagine what it must be like to be in the same room with him. Kidman was a villain, but his chief character is tic had been that emotionless voice of his, which always conveyed such con trolled menace. The noise coming now from the parlour was the raving of a madman. Emily heard another, louder scream, and Kidman shouting—so loudly she could easily make out what he was saying. She almost wished she couldn't.

‘Where is it? What have you done with MY JEWELS? Come here, you harlot!' Another scream from Maria. ‘TELL ME! Don't try your lies on me, you treacherous whore, it has to be you! And YOU, Fenton! I suppose you thought you'd share Edric's treasure with his widow, did you? DID YOU? Tell me where she's put them! TELL ME!' There were sounds of a struggle and then another yell from Kidman. It sounded even louder this time. He must have come out of the parlour and was in the passage. Emily shrank back, hands to her ears. His voice came from just outside the door to her turret room as he shouted, ‘COME BACK HERE, YOU YELLOW-LIVERED SCUM! You won't get away from me again.' Another scuffle. Then, ‘Got you!'

There was a scream from Fenton and a gurgling sound, which was cut short as something heavy fell in a series of bumps. Whoever it was must have fallen or been thrown down the cellar steps. Then someone—she guessed it was Kidman—leapt down the steps, and for a few minutes there was silence. Terrified lest he should take it into this head to look for her, Emily snatched a pike that was hanging on the wall next to the door and cowered in the corner, pike at the ready. She heard a woman's foot steps running past the turret-room door, and then after a pause Kidman came up from the cellar and she heard him take off in pursuit.

They had gone outside. It occurred to Emily that she might see something from the top of the tower, so, though her legs were trembling along with the rest of her, she struggled up the spiral stair case. When she got to the top, she could see the court yard behind the old part of the building, and a carriage and horses. It explained why she had made the mistake of assuming that the house was empty when she arrived. Kidman and the Fentons had taken the precaution of leaving their carriage out of sight in that court yard. She craned her neck to see if she could spot anything else, but the tower was on the wrong side of the house. She could hear shouts in the distance, but nothing to tell her what was happening. She was desperately afraid. Fenton was almost certainly at the bottom of the cellar steps, quite possibly dead, and once Kidman had dealt with Maria, he might well turn his attention else where. Would he remember her and come back for her? She almost hoped he would, if that meant that Jem would escape his attention, and have the wits to fetch help. And she prayed harder than she had ever prayed before that James was some where safe.

 

James was quite safe. The gig had met William's troop and, after a quick consultation and a promise of dire things to come, he had been dispatched to Shearings in the company of one of William's men.

William himself pressed on with Barnaby Drewitt at his side and more men behind, now more than ever certain that Emily was in the greatest possible danger.

When he arrived at Charlwood, the first thing he saw halfway up the drive was Emily's horse with one of the stable lads in charge. ‘Where is she?' he asked curtly. The boy was pale.

‘Inside, sir. But Master James—'

‘Never mind Master James. I know where he is. Who else is inside?'

‘I don't know. Miss Emily thought there wasn't anyone, that's why she went in. But I've been hearing a good bit of noise…'

‘Why didn't you go to help her, damn you?'

‘She told me I wasn't to, sir. Very determined she was. I was to wait here, and if Master James turned up, I was to keep him wi' me.'

At that moment a woman appeared at the top of the drive, apparently running for her life, a man in close pursuit. ‘Emily!' William shouted. ‘Emily!' He started racing up the drive towards her. But before he was more than halfway Kidman, for it was he, had caught her and, shouting incoherently, was shaking her like a doll. Then, just as William reached them both, he threw her to the ground, where she lay still, an inert, pathetic bundle of clothes. William felt the heart had been torn out of his body. He knelt down and turned her over and his heart started to beat again as, dizzy with relief, he realised that the woman in his arms was not Emily, but Maria
Fenton. She was still breathing, and he jumped up and gave a look to one of the men to carry her away. He turned on Kidman.