Nell (26 page)

‘I must find something to poke into the hole,’ she muttered, and lifting the candle thrust it this way and that.

A shadow crossed her vision, and she paused, looking intently into the darkness. Henrietta exhorted her to hurry, and she dismissed it. She had probably caused the shadow herself with the movement. Bending a little, she searched the floor and located a sliver of stone that might be of use.

Her caution proved justified, for the instant she poked the end of her implement into the hole, some sort of beetle ran out. Both she and Hetty started back as the thing paused in the glare of her candle. Then it turned about and sped off down a stone fold of Eleanor’s age-old gown, disappearing out of the light at the end of the tomb.

Nell let her breath go, and again applied her implement to the hole. No further emanations occurred, but there was undoubtedly some obstruction within that shifted with a soft clink as she poked.

‘There is something there, Hetty,’ she uttered, unable to keep the excitement from her voice.

‘Get it! Get it quick,’ squeaked Hetty, her voice loud in the cloistering silence that surrounded them.

A riffle of alarm swept through Nell, but she shook it off. The prize was too close! She inserted her finger into the hole and felt about. There was indeed something inside, cold to the touch, and moveable. Try as she would,
Nell could not hook anything with her finger to fish it out. She gave it up in despair.

‘You try, Hetty. Your fingers are smaller than mine.’

Henrietta was sitting on Eleanor’s face, and she had only to lean forward to the opening. Nell blenched as her entire hand slid inside. The child gasped, and with a little difficulty tugged her hand out. Clutching in her fingers, a mess of green and gold came sliding from the hole, rippling in the light of Nell’s candle.

Nell caught at it, and Hetty let it go. ‘Is the treasure, Nell! Mama’s treasure!’

From behind them, a voice spoke, shattering the moment.

‘I will take that, if you please.’

Shock rode a river of ice down Nell’s back, and she whipped round. Standing just within the perimeter of the candlelight stood Toly Beresford, eyes wide and triumphant, with a pistol in his hand.

F
or what felt an age, Nell could neither speak nor move. She was aware of Hetty behind her, still sitting astride the stone head of Eleanor Jarrow’s statue. She cursed herself for a fool. He must have been following them. Then she had seen something shift in the shadows!

‘Come on, Miss Faraday, hand it over!’

His voice was pleasant, but there was an edge to it that Nell at least recognized. He meant business, and it was plain that he was not afraid to use his pistol. Nevertheless, she could not give in so tamely. She found her voice, and was dismayed to hear in it the rasp of the fear that gripped her.

‘I believe this belongs to Lord Jarrow.’

His smile was a snarl. ‘Eden doesn’t even know it exists. It’s mine, and I mean to have it. I’ve not waited this long to lose it all over again.’

Nell’s thirsting curiosity got the better of her. Lifting the candle higher, she caught his glance and held it. ‘Again?’

He threw back his head and laughed. ‘Think you’re clever, don’t you? Keep me talking and make good your escape with the booty, eh? I think not, Miss Faraday.’

To Nell’s horror, the child here intervened. She had risen to stand upon the statue, and her voice came over Nell’s shoulder, close to her ear.

‘Is Mama’s treasure, Uncle Toly! Mama showed me.’

‘Quiet, brat! I know she showed you. The witch told me so, or I wouldn’t have known. She had the cunning of the insane did your mama, my girl, and she paid for it.’

Nell’s mind leapt, flying past the meaning hidden in his words. She had guessed right. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. ‘Then she did employ you to copy it! Only she did not sell the real emeralds.’

Beresford’s features became suffused with colour, and his eyes sparked. ‘Of course she didn’t. She was supposed to hand the thing over to me to take abroad. I knew I couldn’t sell it here. But she double-crossed me, daughter of Satan that she was, and hid it.’ His mouth curved cruelly and there was a blaze at his eyes. ‘Anyone else would have left it lying here safe, but not my sister Julietta. Oh, no. She took to wearing it to taunt me. I told her I would have it, aye, and keep all the proceeds.’ His teeth ground together. ‘But she wasn’t wearing it that night, blast her eyes!’

‘She foiled you,’ Nell found herself saying, ‘and you used Hetty to try to find the necklace.’

His tone became fretful. ‘Stupid girl couldn’t remember, what else could I do? And you,’ he added, turning on Nell, ‘interfering busybody that you are. Knew I’d got to either get rid of you, or push you into investigating for yourself.’

Then he had been one step ahead of her all the morning—creeping after her, and listening at doors! Nell’s flesh crawled. She glanced at the child and found her
both round-eyed and perplexed. No more talk. She must act!

‘I think we have heard enough,’ she said flatly. Moving back, she caught Hetty up, lifting her to the ground. Toly Beresford cursed and again ordered her to give him the necklace.

‘I’m not afraid to use this,’ he warned her, waving the pistol in a way that alarmed Nell more than when he had merely pointed it at her. ‘Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve blown out a parcel of feminine brains.’

Nell heard it only in the periphery of her mind, for she knew she had only one card to play. She had the necklace in her right hand, the candle in her left. Lifting the jewels, she made as if to hand them over. A terrible gleam danced devils in his eyes, and he uttered a guttural noise as he reached out to take them.

In that instant, Nell dashed the candle to the ground and ducked, crying out to the child as the place was plunged in darkness.

‘Run, Hetty! Hide yourself!’

The pistol exploded above Nell’s head, and a grunt of rage emanated from the madman. She heard the ricocheting whine of the bullet and a scrabble as the little girl dropped out of sight. A hand caught at the back of her gown, and Nell hit out at it with her free hand, dislodging it from the material. She began to crawl away, as swiftly as she dared, and as silently as she could, clutching the necklace.

She could hear Toly Beresford blundering and cursing in the dark as she sought for the sides of the tombs and marked them to their edges, turning corners she cared not where, as long as they took her further away from the hunter. Nell knew that her hands were scraped, that her gown was ripping, for she could feel the tug as the
fabric caught and hear the tears as she frantically freed herself. She had Beresford himself to thank! Instead of remaining quiet and listening for some sound of her whereabouts, the man was raging like a beast in torment, crying out his frustration.

‘Witch! Wait ’til I get you! I’ll blow that pretty little head off your shoulders!’

Nell stilled, crouched between the sides of two great blocks of stone. She was trembling and sore, but she had the emeralds. She knew not how she was to come out of this, and she could not but fear for the child. Common sense came to her rescue, riding in over the thumping in her chest.

Hetty had sense enough to conceal herself, and she was smaller than Nell. Beresford had no light, and he had discharged his pistol. For all she knew, he had another, but he could not aim safely in the darkness of the crypt, which did not prevent him stumbling from place to place, swearing revenge.

Her fingers were quivering, but Nell managed to unfasten the flap at the neck of her gown. Then she stuffed the emeralds deep in the cleft between her breasts, pushing them down into her stays. She could feel the cold of the stones against her chemise beneath, and they dug into her skin. But they would be safer there than in her hand. But how to escape?

A muffled sound of shouts and footsteps came to her ears. Outside the crypt! Someone was coming. Had Mrs Whyte alerted the household? But how did she know?

Silence had fallen on the place, and it was clear that Beresford had also heard the noise. Listening intently, Nell was sure she could make out the turning of a key. A door scraped against stone, and a sudden access of
light was followed immediately by an oath from Toly Beresford.

‘Nell! Nell, are you in there?’

Lord Jarrow! Without thought, Nell leaped to her feet, shouting a warning in response. ‘Take care, Eden! He has discharged one pistol, but he may have another.’

There was the sound of speedy footsteps, and she looked quickly across to the edge of the much larger pool of light than had been thrown by her single candle. She could see Toly Beresford plunging in the direction of the tower door at the other end of the crypt.

‘There! He is escaping!’

But Lord Jarrow was already thundering down, his footsteps loud on the old stone floor. Nell saw that it was Keston who was holding a massive candelabrum.

Her glance flew back in time to see Beresford disappear through the door, with Eden after him. There came a cacophony of oaths, thuds and grunts, and Nell ran as best she could through the tombs towards a faint light within, calling for Henrietta.

‘Hetty! Hetty, where are you?’

The child materialized close by, and Nell halted. ‘Oh, thank God! Are you all right, Hetty?’

‘Uncle Toly fighting with Papa,’ announced Hetty, ignoring the question.

This intelligence sent Nell moving to the tower door, calling out to Keston to bring the bigger light. She reached the doorway in time to see Lord Jarrow fell his brother-in-law with the butt end of the man’s own pistol. Beresford slumped to the floor and lay still.

Panting, Jarrow stood looking down at the inert figure, the murderous thoughts in his head dying down with his triumph. He felt a touch upon his arm and turned to find
Nell at his side. His heart jerked, and he caught her by the shoulders.

‘Nell, are you hurt?’

Vaguely he took in that Keston had come up, for light flooded the chamber, showing him the wavering smile on her face as she shook her head.

‘I should rather ask if you are.’

Jarrow released her and rubbed his jaw with one hand.

‘He caught me a glancing blow, but that is all.’

‘It sounded as if all the devils of hell were fighting in here!’

He grinned. ‘I had a little help.’

Nell looked where he gestured, and discovered the beaming Grig standing in the shadows, his fists still clenched in the pose of a prizefighter. From the corridor beyond came another voice, a trifle cracked. Detling appeared, carrying a shaded lantern.

‘Shall we tie ’un, master?’

‘Have you brought rope? Then do so, Detling, and keep him in the stables. And take this pistol.’

It appeared that the whole household had become involved. Nell turned back to Jarrow. ‘I suppose Mrs Whyte told you we had come down here, but how did you know to expect Mr Beresford?’

‘My poor housekeeper had been attacked in her kitchens when she tried to prevent his following you. A foolish thing for him to do, for he should have known I must discover it. But then, my brother-in-law is not noted for his wisdom.’

An interruption came from Hetty. ‘We got Mama’s treasure.’

Lord Jarrow’s eyes went straight to Nell, a burning question in them. ‘It is true, then! The emeralds were hidden here.’

Nell nodded, but she was forestalled by Hetty, who had come up to catch at her father’s hand. ‘I ’memberded. Mama showed me.’ She began to pull him back into the crypt. ‘Treasure in Nellenor’s hands.’

A tattoo had begun in Jarrow’s chest. He suffered himself to be led down the crypt by his daughter, unable to take in the possibility that was burgeoning in his head. But a footfall sounded at his side and Nell was there.

‘I have them, Eden. We extracted the necklace, and Mr Beresford tried to take it from me.’

He halted. ‘You have it safe?’

Her nod sent the blood fleeing down his veins, but bewilderment wreathed his brain. Had Julietta not then sold the emeralds? Hetty broke into his thoughts.

‘Come see, Papa!’

Jarrow stared at the hiding place, a tumult of emotion in his breast. How had Julietta found it? What compulsion drove her warped mind to steal the thing from him, only to conceal it here? Yet he was not convinced that the emeralds were real, despite the intense efforts of his brother-in-law to recover them. After all, his sanity was as much in question as Julietta’s. Who knew if either would not do all they had done even though the jewels were long gone?

Impatience gnawed at him. And the necklace was the least of it.

‘Come, let us leave this place.’

Mrs Whyte was found seated on the side of the round stone vat in the laundry. The heat of the room struck Nell the moment she entered, in stark contrast to the chill of the crypt they had just left. It was light in the laundry and, with the addition of the huge candelabrum borne by Keston, Nell fairly blinked at the glare. An array of white
linen hung from ropes suspended between the roof beams, and several tubs gave evidence of the industry involved in keeping the clothing of the castle inmates in good order.

The housekeeper rose eagerly. ‘You are safe! Thank the Lord! And what’s happened to that devil, if I might make so bold?’

‘He will not trouble you again, Mrs Whyte,’ said Jarrow. ‘Grig and Detling have him in charge. What of Duggan?’

Nell started. ‘Heavens, I had forgot her!’

‘Don’t you fret, ma’am,’ came grimly from the housekeeper. ‘I went up to her room as you bade me, my lord, and found her stuffing her belongings into a portmanteau as fast as she could.’

‘I trust you ensured that she could not leave?’

‘Locked her in, sir.’ A note of satisfaction entered her voice as she turned to Henrietta. ‘She’ll not get the chance to harm the mite no more. Poor little thing! I’m that glad to see you safe, Miss Hetty.’

‘Uncle Toly is bad,’ announced the little girl importantly. ‘He brung a gun. Papa bash him with the gun, didn’t you, Papa?’

Jarrow swung her up into his arms and held her close. ‘I did, and I would do it again.’

Nell’s eyes pricked as she watched him plant a kiss upon the child’s chubby cheek. His tone gentled.

‘My sweet, you are very right. Uncle Toly is bad and so is Duggy. It is Miss Faraday who is good and I want you to listen carefully to what she tells you.’ He glanced at Nell as he spoke, a message in his eyes. ‘Tell her the truth, Nell.’

But before Nell could say a word, Hetty spoke up. ‘Nell telled me already, Papa. She said Mama did be
killeded with a gun, but you never done it. She said Duggy telled a lie.’

‘And so she did.’

Nell caught his rueful glance and looked quickly down, unwilling to venture upon delicate ground in public.

‘Duggy said you cross with Nell and she goned away. Only Nell comed and she didn’t goned away. You cross with Nell, Papa?’

Jarrow kissed her again and set her down. ‘No, sweetheart, I am not cross with her. I am very grateful to her.’

‘So I should think!’ muttered the housekeeper under her breath. ‘But wait a bit, Miss Hetty. Did you find the treasure?’

‘The treasure!’ exclaimed the child, running to Nell.

‘You got it, Nell! Where you got it?’

Nell found Eden’s gaze upon her and all at once recalled how she had been obliged to open the flap at her gown. Looking down, she was relieved to find that she was not entirely exposed, and was annoyed to feel herself blushing nevertheless. With a muttered excuse, she turned her back. Then she dug her fingers deep into her bosom, reaching into the curve between the swell of her breasts to where she had stuffed the necklace. Aware of silence from the onlookers, she became even more heated, for it took some effort to extract the piece from the tightly fitting stays.

Only Hetty shifted to find out what she was doing, and Nell prayed she would say nothing. In vain.

‘Is the treasure down there?’

A stifled exclamation from the housekeeper behind her made Nell protest aloud. ‘I do wish you will be quiet, Hetty!’

‘But treasure is down there,’ objected the child.

‘Yes, but there is no need to tell the whole world.’

To her relief, the necklace came tumbling forth, accompanied by a shout of triumph from the little girl. Nell turned with the jewels between her fingers.