Refuge (11 page)

‘And what has Mr Hartley done?’ asked Montgomery curiously. ‘Surely, it can’t be that bad. What could possibly have changed?’

‘Oh! You think you know so much, yet you know so little,’ said Genevieve. She dismounted and stumbled over to Montgomery. The cold and the shock were beginning to bite. ‘Tell me, Sir, are all men alike?’

‘It depends on what you are referring to,’ said Montgomery. He touched his hand to her face and stared into her eyes. ‘Has Mr Hartley dishonoured you? Has he cast you aside?’

‘He has taken another lover.’ Genevieve suddenly laughed. ‘It’s not even funny, is it? Yes, he’s at present with a delightful young lady he met in London. Do you know, he ran off there? Yes, I nearly died at my brother’s hands and my lover went to London and found himself a fiancée. Oh, forgive me, Sir Montgomery,’ she said. ‘I don’t mean to speak ill of your dear friend. Dear Joseph.’

Montgomery shrugged. ‘He is no friend of mine,’ he said. ‘I don’t have friends.’ He leaned closer to her and his eyes were dark in his pale face. ‘What’s happened? Can you confide in me at all?’ He searched her face, trying, it seemed, to see into her very soul.

‘He used to call me Veva,’ she said. ‘And this morning, he didn’t.’ She looked over Montgomery’s shoulder, her mind’s eye seeing the drawing room at Hartside once more. They would be coming soon, combing the moors, looking for her. They would know she was responsible. At least the snow was melting. Her tracks wouldn’t be too visible. She felt in the small pocket of her cloak. Once it had contained little treasures like smooth stones or jewel-bright feathers Will had picked up for her when they were together. Now it held the instrument of his death. She could easily use it here; use it on herself, perhaps. She began to hum that strange little tune, just wondering what it would be like to die.

‘Ah, there is something you aren’t telling me,’ said Montgomery.

‘It’s quite simple,’ Veva said eventually. ‘He’s dead. I killed him. Oh, and I killed his fiancée. There. Now you know.’ She flinched, half expecting him and even, dare she say it, wanting him to lash out at her and knock her to the ground. Her brother would have done that. Maybe if Montgomery did that, she would feel alive again. At this present moment in time, she was simply numb. Shouldn’t she be screaming or still running away? She started pulling the pins out of her hair and dragging her fingers through it, agitated.

‘I see,’ said Montgomery watching her. He was calm, unruffled. ‘Then I dare say he deserved it. I imagine you are feeling torn at the minute, unsure of which way to turn, perhaps?’ He raised his hand and caught her hands in his. He lowered his face to hers and kissed her softly on the lips. ‘I can perhaps help. He nuzzled into her neck, his skin even colder than hers. He pulled away and smiled at her. ‘What’s to stop us getting revenge in our own sweet way, my dear? Who’s to stop us?’

The breath caught in her throat. ‘What? Here? You’re suggesting we..?’

‘Why not?’ asked Montgomery. ‘I repeat, who is to stop us?’

‘I just killed two people,’ said Veva distractedly. ‘I should be feeling something. I’m not.’

‘Only two?’ said Montgomery. ‘You can do better than that. How about your brother? Isn’t he on your list?’ His eyes bored into her.

Veva stared back, mesmerised. ‘Perhaps,’ she said. She raised her face to Montgomery’s, feeling his closeness, inhaling his scent. She released her hand from his and fingered the back of his cloak. ‘I am very tempted, Sir,’ she whispered, ‘yet I fear we have little time. I think they’re coming for me. Look – just over the brow of the hill. Can you see them?’ She smiled a little and pulled away from him. She faced the dark shadows which were appearing over the horizon, her hair loose and rippling down her back. She relaxed her shoulders and held her head high. ‘It will soon be over,’ she said. ‘You’d best leave. I might have enjoyed your company more under different circumstances.’

‘I can stop them,’ replied Montgomery. ‘Or rather, I can stop them from hurting you.’

Veva shook her head, not taking her eyes off the oncoming horsemen. ‘It’s over. I’m ready to die, if that is what they intend,’ she said. ‘What’s done is done.’

‘You recall I told you I had to make some difficult decisions?’ he said. ‘Allow me to present you with your options.’ He leant over her and whispered in her ear.

Veva’s eyes widened and she turned to face him. ‘Do it,’ she said. ‘Now.’

Montgomery smiled at Genevieve; a slow, thoughtful smile. ‘Are you sure? You do understand the consequences?’ he asked. ‘Swear to me that you understand and only then shall I help you.’

                ‘I understand perfectly,’ she said. ‘I have no choice. This way – your way – I can be free. I can disappear and leave them all. How long will it take?’ She searched his face anxiously.

                ‘A matter of seconds,’ he said, taking hold of her shoulders. ‘Then when they find you, you will no longer be of concern to them.’

                ‘What will happen?’ she asked slowly. The sounds of the horses’ hooves were coming closer. ‘Will you come and get me afterwards?’

                ‘They have to see you – they have to believe. Then, once they are satisfied justice has been done, I would imagine they will leave you alone. When they return,’ he shrugged, ‘you will be gone.’

                Genevieve fingered the gun and looked at the man before her. ‘Do it,’ she said again. He held his hand out and she passed the gun to him.

                Swift as lightning, Montgomery leaned into Genevieve. If anyone had witnessed it, he would have appeared to have been kissing her. The girl let out one gasping scream and slumped forwards, her eyes closed. The man caught her and laid her gently on an old, box-like tomb. Then he raised the gun and shot her through the heart.

***

There was blood, of course, a lot of blood. When they found her, the gun was in her hand, her fingers loosely curled around the trigger; a clear case of murder-suicide. The girl had been unbalanced, they knew that. Her family had made that obvious and her recent behaviour had proved it. They stood over her body, wondering what to do. She was evil, a murderess. There was no motive except her insanity.

One of the men stared at her and shook his head. ‘We’re too late,’ he said. ‘We have to go back and tell the Master. Do we take her with us?’

                Another man looked at him in horror. ‘Take that back to the Master?’ he said, indicating the bloodied body. ‘No. We tell him what we saw. Then he can come down here himself if he wants to see it. Do we tell her family?’

                ‘No. We tell our Master first,’ said another. ‘He’s the one that needs to know.’ They took a last look at Genevieve de Havilland. ‘God only knows what evil was hiding behind that face,’ muttered the first man. ‘Come on. We should go.’ They turned and mounted their horses again, urging the animals away from the chapel, back towards Hartside.

***

Montgomery came out from behind the pillar where he had been standing. Nobody had realised he was there; that was one benefit, he thought, of a half-life such as his. He could fool them into thinking he was invisible at times. He walked over to Veva and leaned over her. He pushed her hair back and studied the two deep marks in her neck. Blood had poured down from the gash where he had severed her jugular, soaking the front of her dress and, mingled with the mess of the bullet wound in her chest; a layman might assume that the blood all came from the bullet wound. He stood up and lifted the girl gently in his arms. He wouldn’t have to wait long before she was with him again, but she was a wild one, no doubt about it. A gust of wind blew down the moor and snow began to fall from the heavy clouds above; he didn’t feel any of it. He half smiled again. He didn’t envy her brother when she woke up.

***

There was a cottage on the moors, an abandoned, estate-worker’s cottage hidden behind a small clump of trees. It was fairly dry inside. Montgomery didn’t care about heat or warmth; Veva wouldn’t either, when she woke up. He shouldered the door open and walked inside. There were two rooms which led off from a small, stone passageway. Montgomery went into the room on the right and laid the girl down on the one remaining wooden bench by the inglenook fireplace. He sat opposite her to wait. 

                There was no gentle stirring from her. She moved her head and her eyes snapped open, staring straight at him. Her expression was shocked and confused for a split second, but then she smiled at him, slowly and triumphantly. Even being what he was, and knowing what he knew, Montgomery still experienced a shiver of trepidation as he looked into the girl’s eyes.

                ‘You did it,’ she said. ‘Did they see me?’

Montgomery nodded. ‘They did indeed,’ he said. ‘Your fate was sealed. Your body has been moved, you are dead to them. You are no longer their concern.’

                Veva sat up carefully. She looked about her, and her eyes rested on the front of her ballgown. A bloodied, burnt hole scarred the blue fabric at her breast. ‘My beautiful dress!’ she cried ‘Oh no!’ She pressed her hand to her chest. ‘Did you shoot me? I can feel something...’

                ‘It will soon heal over,’ said Montgomery. ‘We don’t sustain our injuries for very long.’

                ‘I’m glad I shot them,’ she said. ‘Now, there is more work I need to do.’ She swung her legs over the side of the bench and stood up unsteadily.

Montgomery reached out to take her hand, gently yet firmly stopping her. ‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘You need to gain strength, my love. You’re still weak. Let your body heal and your mind adjust.’

                Veva narrowed her eyes and turned to Montgomery. She wrenched her hand out of his and snarled at him. ‘You think that you are the one who can tell me what to do now, is that it? No. You have given me independence. I can do what I want now, but I need to settle some old scores first.’

                 ‘I am not telling you what to do,’ said Montgomery, ‘I am advising you to rest. Your body has gone through an ordeal and it may take some time to recover.’

                ‘I went through worse this summer at the hands of my brother. I died, you know. They told me. But then I came back. Joseph did not know whether to be grateful or resentful. I am sure he wished me dead.’ She smiled. ‘Dear Joseph. He did his best. Sadly, it was not enough to stop me. I must pay him a visit.’

                Montgomery sighed. ‘Go then, Genevieve. Go and see him. I can see that I have no power over you to prevent it. I would have visited him myself, but why should I rob you of the experience? All I will say is that if you rest now, you will be stronger. Look, you are still unsteady on your feet. Please – an hour, two hours at the most. That will be enough time for you. It will be enough time for the message to reach him as well. Would it not be better to visit him from a position of such strength in two hours time, than to go now and risk more people seeing you as the news of your apparent suicide spreads? You have much to learn and I can teach you, but the first step is to trust me.’

                Veva paused in the doorway of the cottage, looking thoughtfully at Montgomery. ‘You tell me that I will be stronger if I wait?’ she asked.

                ‘Indeed,’ he replied. ‘I found it best to wait.’

                ‘Why did you make this choice?’ asked Veva curiously. She walked across to him and stared down at him thoughtfully. ‘What was it that you did?’

                ‘I made many mistakes in life,’ replied Montgomery. ‘I inherited a failing estate. I had no business acumen. I begged people like your brother to help me. I did not necessarily want the money, but I would have appreciated the support. He, amongst others, laughed at my disgrace and sent me away. I decided that my only chance was to gamble with the few remaining shreds of my fortune, and I lost. I remember sitting in a dark room, with nothing left to my name except a few coins in my hand, wondering how I could kill myself painlessly. I wandered through the streets of London that night, intending to throw myself into the river. I saw a lady in the shadows, and decided to spend my money on her before I finished it for good. I found myself telling her what had happened. She offered me a way out – a new way of life where I could start again and would not have to rely on mortal fortune to feed me or shelter me. I was desperate. So I made my choice. I shall not go into how I recovered my money - and more - from the men I gambled with. Suffice it to say, I felt vindicated. Thus, I returned to my family estate where I live quite alone, apart from the occasional visit from a housekeeper who knows better than to ask any questions.’