The Alchemist's Key (7 page)

As the guard was explaining to the soldiers outside that his Lord was not at the manor at present, another more distinguished gentleman had come to stand in the middle of the Great Hall.

‘Open the doors, O’Mally,’ the gentleman instructed, placing his hands on his hips to confront the soldiers as they entered.

Reluctantly, the guard complied, and the half dozen soldiers barged into the room.

‘Gisborne Ashby. You are under arrest on suspicion of conspiring with, and harbouring, Jacobite supporters of Charles Stuart.’ The Lord in charge of the soldiers had the Baron seized.

‘That is ridiculous,’ Gisborne argued. ‘The Ashby family are not political.’

‘Is that so,’ the Lord challenged. ‘Search the house,’ he ordered his men. ‘If there are Jacobite spies herein, I want them alive … for now,’ he concluded with a grin.

Only two of the soldiers headed up the stairs to the grand chamber and, rather fortunately, they moved to check the musicians’ gallery first. This gave Wade and his party time to withdraw into the main bedchamber, which was only lit by the flaming timber in the fireplace.

‘They are going to find us if we don’t get out of here,’ Andrew started barricading things against the door, and Wade lent a hand.

‘Well, how do we do that?’ Louisa beseeched them, having no desire to be carted off to some medieval dungeon.

‘Ah, we’re not exactly sure,’ confessed Wade, ‘but I think it’s got something to do with the cat.’

Upon this revelation, all three of them bowed down low and began to chant, ‘Here, kitty, kitty, kitty.’

‘Arthur McCloud!’ Wade whispered hoarsely in desperation, as the soldiers were heard approaching.

A strong meow was forthcoming from the adjoining dressing room. At the same time the soldiers tried to enter via the withdrawing room door and, finding it blocked, they began to ram it.

‘The cat’s got my vote.’ Wade headed into the dressing room to see Arthur disappear down the stairwell that led to the servant’s quarters.

‘Excellent.’ Andrew spied keys in the inner locks on both the dressing room doors. These security measures were no longer necessary in the twentieth century, but at this early stage of the house’s history this was the main cabinet room. Andrew turned the key in the inner cabinet room’s lock as the soldiers burst through their first barricade inside the main bedchamber.

Louisa hesitated as Wade pursued the animal into the stairwell. ‘But they are searching downstairs!’

‘We don’t have much choice,’ Wade said as he grabbed Louisa’s arm and pulled her through the doorway after him.

Andrew grabbed the key from the inside lock on his way through the stairwell door, and locked it closed behind them. The sound of the cabinet room door crashing open was to be heard behind them, but this final door was the sturdiest, and he expected it would hold the soldiers there for longer.

As Wade and Louisa reached the bottom of the stairwell, the door upstairs yielded to the soldier’s relentless pounding and gave way. Wade eyed the corridor ahead, realising he’d lost the cat again. ‘Damn it.’ The rattling sound the soldier’s armour made as they hurried down the stairs sent chills down Wade’s spine. ‘Andy, let’s go!’ Wade urged his young friend to move it.

‘Can I help you?’

Talbot startled the wits out of everyone as he stepped out of his bedroom into the corridor before them.

But not one of the three young people would look at him, let alone answer his query. The Baron, Lady Sinclair and Andrew were all staring back towards the stairwell, alarmed by the sounds that escaped his old ears.

The clanking noise of the advancing soldiers started to fade, and tapered out completely by the time they would have come into view.

‘Is it over?’ Louisa dared to draw breath.

Andrew nodded, placing a hand on Talbot’s shoulder. ‘My father may be old, but he’s not
that
old.’

‘Is what over? Have I missed something, Sir?’ The butler inquired of his Baron.

‘No, Talbot.’ Wade managed to advise calmly, with the adrenaline from the chase still coursing through his veins. ‘Sorry we got you up. We’re just going to fix ourselves a cup of coffee.’

‘But, Sir —’

‘Don’t worry Father,’ Andrew assured on his way through to the kitchen behind the others. ‘I’ll make it. You go back to bed.’

The three adventurers scrambled back up to Wade’s quarters to find everything as they’d left it. According to the computer, all of two minutes had elapsed.

‘So now you see why we were trying to get rid of you, Louisa?’ Wade thought he’d put her mind to rest on that issue, at least.

Louisa had taken a seat to gather her wits in the wake of their ordeal. ‘Ah, yes.’ She raised her brows in consternation, ‘and I must say your true motive had unexpected depth, Baron.’

‘Do you know who the man was, the one they
arrested?’ Andrew asked Wade, who shook his head. ‘Well, that was your great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, Gisborne Ashby. He was sentenced to slavery on the charge of treason, by Oliver Cromwell. I remember this because it was the only time in the history of the manor that it nearly fell out of the hands of the Ashby family.’

‘So how did we get it back?’ Wade took a seat beside Louisa.

‘Gisborne’s ship was seized by pirates, and when they discovered the galley slave was the grandson of William Ashby, whose name was then synonymous with Sir Frances Drake, they freed Gisborne and accepted him into their ranks.’

‘Excellent,’ Wade cheered, ‘so he became a pirate too.’

‘For a short time,’ Andrew explained. ‘Soon after, Cromwell died, and Charles the Second took the throne of England. As soon as the King’s restoration was completed, Gisborne was given a full pardon, and his lands and titles were restored to him. Charles wanted to increase the Ashby’s lands and title at this time, but Gisborne graciously declined. He truly had no desire to dabble in politics further, nor to try and manage more lands than suited his purpose. The Ashby
family have outlasted many of the higher ranking families because they have never bitten off more than they could chew.’

‘So Gisborne was guilty of treason, as charged?’ Wade, knowing nothing of history or politics, didn’t know whether to be proud of this or not.

‘You bet your bottom dollar he was,’ Andrew assured. ‘For, although Cromwell did manage to enforce peace in England, Scotland and Ireland, via a military dictatorship, his methods were harsh to say the least. He destroyed much of what was beautiful in his lands … the arts, literature and scientific study suffered terribly. This was how Gisborne was persuaded to rebel against Cromwell. In the eyes of the ruling class of the time he was doing the right thing.’ As the Baron appeared to be set at ease by this news, Andrew skipped to the next subject. ‘So, as you have now witnessed an actual event in your family history, do you still think we’re all hallucinating?’

‘I never really did,’ Wade confessed. ‘That was Hugh talking. None of this started till after he left, except for that first dream. If that’s what it was?’

‘Tell us about this dream?’ Louisa implored him.

Now that she had recovered, Louisa considered the episode to be the most extraordinary event she’d
ever witnessed in all her born days. Her whole being tingled with curiosity, excitement and wonder. For the first time in ages Louisa truly felt alive.

As Wade obliged Louisa with all the details of the ghostly experiences she had missed, both she and Andrew questioned why the cat had been blocking Wade’s passage in the first case, and so obviously leading him in all of the others?

‘Well, in the first instance you were outside the house, but in all those that followed you were inside … in here in fact.’ Andrew pointed out, motioning to the music room around them.

‘Maybe next time we should try and get outside?’ Wade suggested.

‘And risk losing track of the cat?’ Andrew shook his head in the negative. ‘I say you stick with Arthur. He saved us from becoming galley slaves, you realise.’

‘Yeah,’ Wade conceded, a little disappointed about that in retrospect. ‘But the ship would have been ambushed and we all would have become pirates.’ He almost cheered in conclusion.

‘But how would we explain the fact that you were Gisborne’s great grandson nine times removed?’ Louisa put forward in jest.

‘You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?’ Wade noted the Lady’s enthusiasm.

‘Well, it’s all very mysterious, isn’t it? If you’re going again, you must let me come.’

Wade looked at Andrew who was shaking his head profusely and mouthing the words,
too dangerous.

‘That’s a little difficult,’ Wade told her, ‘as we don’t plan it. It just happens.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Louisa was disappointed. ‘Perhaps I could come down for the weekend then, and if it happens then fine, and if it doesn’t …’ She shrugged. ‘What do you say?’

Andrew was trying to wipe the horrified look from his face with both hands, when Louisa followed Wade’s gaze to catch the chauffeur’s protest.

‘Hey, I could really be of help to you.’ Louisa pleaded her case. ‘I know the library better than just about anybody. I could help research.’

‘Don’t you have other things to do?’ Andrew queried.

‘Don’t you?’ she replied. ‘Besides, my weekends are my own at present. How I choose to spend them is my business.’

‘Hugh is going to be here this weekend,’ Wade informed, hoping this might put her off.

‘I don’t have a problem with that,’ Louisa announced under sufferance.

‘And you promise to be nice to him,’ Wade pushed his advantage, ‘and see him, even?’

‘Yes, I promise.’ Louisa skipped over the vow quickly. ‘Can I come, please! You’re not going to make me beg, are you?’

‘I’d pay money to see that,’ Andy mumbled, to Wade’s amusement.

Louisa took offence at this, or at least pretended to. ‘Forget it. Keep your little boys’ club.’ She stood and made for the door. ‘But don’t come crawling to me when you want answers, because you won’t get them.’

‘Louisa.’ Wade went after her, much to Andrew’s annoyance. ‘We’re just winding you up. Of course you can come. You’re always welcome here.’

‘Well, maybe I don’t want to now.’ She attempted a ploy for a little more attention.

‘Cool.’ Wade withdrew abruptly. ‘It’s your call.’

‘No, I will.’ Louisa jumped in before she lost the opportunity. ‘I’ll be here, Friday night.’

W
ade and Andrew spent the next couple of days in the library, reading and searching for clues that might unlock the mystery of Ashby.

Over two days they barely made a dent in the mountains of literature, though they did manage to confirm the existence of the loony ghost they’d encountered in the drawing room. The apparition seemed to be a prime candidate for Ernest Ashby, the eighth Baron, who was declared mad in 1822 at the age of 54. The tower that the ghost had vanished into in order to escape them had become the madman’s prison for the rest of his days — some twenty years in all.

They also discovered that the man Cromwell had installed in Ashby during Gisborne’s brief exile had built a chapel on the grounds. As he despised
organised religion, Gisborne had the place of worship levelled upon his return. This chapel had been located where the gazebo now stood.

Although Arthur did not make an appearance on the nights they spent in the library, Wade and Andrew kept a watchful eye out for the animal. They also had to consider that the music room was perhaps the only point of origin for the strange time phenomena.

Come Friday, however, the Baron and his chauffeur were obliged to leave the house. Wade had promised the Contessa Montagu that he would visit her school for the arts. Quite frankly, Wade wanted to get the engagement out of the way so that he might concentrate on the mystery of the manor undisturbed.

There was also the possibility that, being close to him in age, and a peer, the Contessa might have been a confidante of his grandfather. Perhaps Edward had told her something of strange occurrences that took place in the manor?

The Baron left in the early morning so as to be back at Ashby by the time Hugh and Louisa arrived. The notion of those two being left in each other’s company for too long amused Wade. Maybe he should return late just to spite them both?

The college was on the other side of Ashbury, just a short drive from the manor, as was the Contessa’s main estate of Glenoak.

The Baron had his laptop computer on hand, just for appearances as much as anything else, and had no idea what a fortunate vanity that would turn out to be.

The gatehouse guard alerted the Contessa to the Baron’s arrival. He was met and escorted to her office chambers by several of her loveliest students.

‘My dear Baron,’ she turned from the window as Wade came through the door, ‘how wonderful of you to come.’ She remained in her sun-drenched position, and held out her hand to him.

The Contessa had the deportment of a Queen, so much so Wade almost felt obliged to kneel before her. ‘I’ve been looking forward to it.’ He bowed and kissed her hand.

The gesture greatly pleased her, though she knew the young Baron was lying through his teeth. ‘But I was under the impression you had little interest in the arts?’ she queried winningly.

‘Alas, it is true, Contessa.’ Wade grinned. ‘I must confess that my interest lay more in you.’

‘In me?’ Her smile broadened with his implication and, though she knew his motive was
not romantic, it was nice to briefly imagine. ‘You are curious to know more about your grandfather, I presume.’

‘Um, yes.’ Was everyone around him psychic, Wade wondered. ‘I know this might seem a personal question, Contessa, but how well did you really know my grandfather?’ As the lady appeared a little overwhelmed by the question, Wade added: ‘In so far as, did you know him well enough that he might entrust you with a family secret?’

‘I think you shall find that, here in England, family secrets usually stay in the family. However,’ she took up Wade’s arm to guide him out of the room, ‘if you will allow me to show you around my college, I will tell you what I do know of Edward … God rest his sweet soul.’

As Wade was led through buildings that his forefathers had funded, the Contessa boasted of all the wondrous productions and exhibitions Edward and she had staged together. The tour started in the halls of music, moved on through the halls of poetry, writing, and acting, then into the halls of painting, sculpture and the like. It seemed all very traditional to Wade; there was nothing progressive about the school at all. The last cluster of buildings were the halls of dance, or
rather, ballet. Wade felt like a rooster in a henhouse here, though there were other males scattered throughout these dwellings.

As they strolled along the first floor promenade, Wade thought that it gave the hall of ballet an appearance similar to squash courts. The timber walkway ran down the center of the building, and overlooked the classrooms on one side and the smaller rehearsal rooms on the other. One of the students noted their presence and asked the Contessa for her opinion on a piece of the student’s choreography. Wade advised the Contessa to take her time, because he was going to take a stroll.

Wade spied the Contessa’s assistant, Hannah, in one of the rehearsal rooms a little further down the walkway. She was going through the motions of a routine with one of the male students. The student seemed, to Wade, to be a bit of an arsehole. He stood yelling at Hannah, who had her head bowed low, nodding to agree with him. Over the noise of the other rooms, it was hard to hear what was being said, until the room next door shut off their music.

‘All these flimsy movements!’ Hannah’s partner was heard to complain. ‘This is ballet, classical ballet! If you want to be a showgirl, go find a good jazz class.’

‘I am sorry, Ivan,’ she said, her eyes to the floor as she ground the tip of her right point shoe into the timbers. ‘I should have known anything slightly contemporary would be frowned upon.’ She tossed her head up suddenly, and looked defiantly at him. ‘Shall we try it again?’

Ivan just stared at her a moment. ‘I can’t work with this!’ He threw his arms in the air and stormed from the room.

As the door slammed closed behind her partner, Hannah poked her tongue out at him for good riddance. Wade was tempted to cheer at this point. Hannah had more spunk than he’d previously imagined. But as she moved to the stereo, Wade refrained — she was going to dance.

She changed the CD and hit the play button, before taking her place in the centre of the room.

Neither the music Wade heard nor the movement he saw could have been construed as classical, but it was, nevertheless, the most moving piece of dance he’d ever seen. He was so impressed he found the stairs and went down into the rehearsal room to compliment her in person.

‘Hi there.’ He entered without knocking and almost startled Hannah out of her wits.

‘My Lord.’ Her tone was precarious, to say the least, and she went straight back to removing her
shoes. ‘I just wanted to say, that was brilliant!’ Wade awkwardly pursued the conversation in spite of her mood.

Though he did not bother to say so, Hannah could only assume he’d seen her dance. ‘You know good technique when you see it, I suppose?’

‘Actually, I was referring to the way you handled that arsehole,’ Wade lied, as he didn’t know the first thing about ballet.

‘Ivan is a great dancer.’ Hannah stood and took up her bag to leave. ‘He was yelling at me for my own good … and I should have been listening to him.’

Deep down, Wade realised that her anger wasn’t really directed at him, so he thought he’d try one more time to boost her spirits. ‘Hey,’ he called after her as she made for the door. ‘I know what I like, and I think your style is better than anything I’ve seen here today.’

Hannah looked to him, nearly in tears. ‘Well then,’ she said, ‘that’s it! I’ll just blow a promising career so that I can pursue contemporary dance instead.’ She rolled her eyes, and exited with haste.

‘Was it something I said?’ Wade didn’t understand, but then, when it came to women, he
seldom did.

Wade and the Contessa retired to her chambers for lunch. And after a superb three-course meal, the heiress got around to asking the Baron about his thoughts on her college.

‘Well, Contessa …’ Wade looked thoughtful, deciding he’d do her the courtesy of being perfectly honest. ‘I think you need to expand —’ The Contessa’s face lit up with delight at the comment, until Wade added, ‘into the modern arts.’

‘What?’ She was outraged.

‘Contessa,’ Wade leant forward, ‘you are going to be left behind, maybe not this century, but beyond the year two thousand most definitely. Have you got any idea what you could do if you added film, editing and sound studios, multimedia, modern music and dance departments —’

‘Stop, stop, stop …’ The Contessa was waving her arms about. ‘What do you mean by multi-media?’

‘Interactive games and books, graphic design and animation, special effects, that kind of thing.’

‘That isn’t art …’ the Contessa had to laugh, ‘the computer does everything for you.’

Wade resented her view and placed his laptop on the table, opening it.

‘I am sorry.’ The Contessa realised she’d put her foot in it.

The Baron waved her to silence. This was his favourite sermon, and Wade had yet to find a critic he couldn’t convert. ‘The computer is only a tool, a medium, like a brush and canvas, paper and pen. And, as with any other art form, the extent of one’s technique is limited to how well you can utilise your tools for your own creative expression. Apart from imagination, however, there is the comprehension of the differing programs, and the extent of their applications to be mastered. One also has to know how to communicate with the computer and interface with other computer systems. In other words, one must understand the linguistics, and computer programming languages are fast becoming as numerous as those spoken. Still, when one has a firm grasp of these, what you can do with that knowledge is limitless! Your students could design their own stage sets, lighting, costumes, brochures, even advertise on the worldwide web … design a new wing for the school, film and edit your productions, burn CD recordings, both musical and literary, and that’s just for starters. You already have all the talent to produce major in-house productions … recitals and exhibitions could be recorded for future reference.
It would cost a fortune to get outsiders to provide the same services for any extended period of time, but we could supply these services to other colleges, and turn it into a thriving business.’

It was a good thing the Contessa was seated, as Wade was completely blowing her mind; everything he said was perfectly true. He showed her some of the images he’d designed for the web, along with some 3D animation sequences.

‘But, if you do decide to get with the times,’ Wade said in a cheeky fashion, knowing he’d already convinced her, ‘I believe you have to go contemporary all the way. Music, dance, the lot!’

The Contessa frowned slightly.

‘Keep all the traditional arts you have now,’ Wade continued, ‘and I shall fund new halls for the new curriculum, along with state-of-the-art equipment.’

‘A very tempting offer, my dear Baron.’ The Contessa bit her lip. ‘I shall have to think seriously about it first, and there would need to be much more discussion before we could proceed.’

‘Of course,’ Wade granted. ‘And I shall have to speak with my grandfather’s financial advisers, and get their thumbs-up on the matter.’

‘Leave Mr Hapwood and Mr Wilks to me. I’ve been dealing with them for years.’ The Contessa
waved away this concern. ‘But these new additions would have to be introduced gradually, you understand. We can’t risk losing our other more traditionalist supporters, either.’

‘Well,’ Wade shrugged, ‘we could start by upgrading those arts you already have, like dance and music, and then go from there.’

‘Perhaps?’ One side of the Contessa’s mouth curved to a smile. ‘Leave it with me.’

Her assistant, Hannah, had been telling the Contessa for years that they needed to modernise. Here was one student who was bound to embrace the young Baron’s proposal with open arms!

The Baron made it back to Ashby before sunset, and Hugh arrived shortly after him. Wade told his friend nothing of the weird occurrences he’d experienced in his absence, opting to wait until he had the others to back up his story.

Instead he spoke of his visit to the college and of the plans he’d discussed with the Contessa. They raved briefly about Hugh’s first few days at Oxford, before Wade announced that Louisa was coming down for the weekend.

‘Wonderful,’ said Hugh. ‘I do enjoy feeling invisible.’

‘No. I made her promise to acknowledge you this time,’ Wade informed, sitting back in his chair by the fire in his drawing room.

‘You broached the subject of her ignoring me?’ Hugh became more interested. ‘What reason did she give?’

‘She said she was after my stables, and didn’t wish to be distracted from her quest.’

‘Louisa admitted that outright?’

Wade nodded.

‘So I was right about her.’

‘Not entirely,’ Wade considered, looking over to Talbot who had come to stand at the music room doors.

‘My Lord, Lady Sinclair has arrived. Should I show her —’

As the Lady in question came striding in, Wade gave the butler his leave … ‘Thank you, Talbot.’

‘Has anything happened since I left?’ She took a seat beside Hugh on the couch.

Hugh thought this a strange way to begin a conversation. ‘Good evening, Lady Sinclair. How nice to see you again.’

‘I am sorry.’ She turned in her seat to face Hugh. ‘It’s just all so intriguing, don’t you find? I’ve been able to think of little else for days.’ She excitedly expressed her feelings. ‘And, please call
me Louisa. We’re all friends here.’ She looked back to Wade, leaving Hugh stunned by the total transformation of her character. ‘Now, please answer my question, before I burst!’

Wade grinned broadly, keeping both Louisa and Hugh in suspense. ‘No, you haven’t missed anything, though we did manage to dig up a few interesting facts from the library,’ Wade informed, and Louisa clapped her hands in joy.

Hugh could only stare at the pair of them in amazement. Louisa was like a gleeful child, and it was no act. And Wade had spent time in a library, reading books! ‘Excuse me, folks —’ Hugh interrupted their excited banter, and stood up to express his confusion.

At this point, Andrew came barging into the music room, and spying everyone inside the drawing room he joined them, closing the doors behind him. ‘Have you told him yet?’