Being Elizabeth (16 page)

Do I have
my
enemies? More than likely. And who are they? She shivered and pulled her sweater around her shoulders. As yet I don't know, but I'll soon find out. They'll give themselves away. Elizabeth shivered again. She must be on her guard.

‘I
think these might have been dungeons once.' Robert glanced at Elizabeth, and shone the flashlight around the large cellar at the bottom of the flight of stone steps in the basement at Ravenscar.

‘You could be right,' she answered, feeling for the switch on the wall, flipping it down. Instantly the enormous cellar was flooded with bright light. ‘I've often thought that myself, because deeper inside the basement there are several vaults with heavy metal doors that have small windows to look inside. But my father never told me they were dungeons, and he was always giving me interesting snippets about Ravenscar.'

‘I'd hate to be incarcerated down here,' Robert announced. ‘It's as cold as hell, and I'm certainly glad you told me to wear a heavy sweater
and
my Barbour. It's bloody icy, actually.'

‘I know, but we'll only be ten minutes or so. Come on, my lad, let's get cracking. The really big cellar, known as vault number ten, is straight ahead.'

‘Ten as in the
best
?' He raised a brow, grinning.

She laughed. ‘Probably. I know there's a lot of jewellery in leather boxes from Cartier, Boucheron, Mauboussin, Garrard,
Asprey, Harry Winston, Tiffany, you name it. There're French Auboussin carpets and tapestries, and naturally loads of silver and gold plate. Kat was astonished and so were Blanche and Thomas Parrell who came to help her look at everything and do inventories. They all agree the stuff should go to auction, and I'm sure they're right. Kat's done a good job, actually.'

‘Mrs Efficiency, that's our Kat, and I'm pleased she's taking care of this, because you certainly don't have time.'

‘True. Here's the vault.' Elizabeth came to a standstill in the main corridor and handed him a big iron key. ‘You open it, Robin, Kat told me the lock's a bit stiff.'

‘It probably needs a spot of oil.' Taking the key from her, Robert struggled with the lock for a few moments, finally turned the key, then twisted the iron handle on the door. It creaked open as he pushed his shoulder against it.

Stepping inside, he flipped the light switch, and even though the bulb in the ceiling was dim they could see that the vault was enormous. ‘Good God, this looks like the Bank of England! Do you have more keys for these other doors in here?'

‘Yes.' She handed him a ring of keys, each one numbered. As they went around opening the doors, they discovered rooms lined with shelves on which were stacked every kind of valuable.

Elizabeth beckoned to Robert when she spotted the layers of jewellery boxes piled high in one of the rooms. ‘I can't believe all this. My God, such indulgence!' She took half a dozen boxes off a shelf and carried them out of the room, explaining to Robert, ‘Kat wants me to look at every piece of jewellery, and make decisions about its fate. I think it's a good idea to take everything to the dining room, don't you? We'll sort it out there.'

‘We can't start looking at it here, that's for sure. First of all the lights are dim, and it's also far too cold. We're both going to catch pneumonia if we linger.'

‘Come on then, start moving it out of the vault. We'll put it
at the bottom of the stone staircase, lock up down here, and retreat to the warmth of the dining room.'

‘And we'll ask Lucas to make some tea or soup.' Robert followed her into the smaller vault, filled his arms with jewellery boxes, and added, ‘We're going to need a hot drink.'

Elizabeth said, ‘Lucas and Marta drove into Scarborough to do some shopping, but I can make the tea.'

‘Oh, don't worry about that now, let's just keep moving the boxes, and get upstairs.'

Despite their speed, it took them another half hour to take the leather boxes of every size and shape to the stone stairs.

Even Robert Dunley, who was rarely surprised at anything, was astounded at the number of jewel cases they had retrieved. Once they had moved everything out and he had locked the inner doors, and the door of vault ten, he said, ‘I think the quickest way to get this stuff upstairs is to put them into large dustbin bags, and if there aren't enough we can use pillowcases.'

‘Very clever, Robin! Go to the top of the class.'

Elizabeth sat on the loveseat in the library as close to the roaring fire as possible. She was shivering, felt as if the freezing cold climate in the basement had penetrated her bones, turned her into a block of ice.

After stacking the fire with plenty of extra logs and turning up the central heating, Robert had disappeared. Now, as she sat hunched over, literally trying to breathe in the heat from the flames, she heard his step, swiftly turned her head.

He came into the room carrying a shot glass in each hand. ‘I know you don't like booze, but I want you to drink this.' Coming to a standstill next to her, he handed her the glass.

She stared at it and then at him. ‘What is it?'

‘Calvados.'

‘Why do you have brandy in a shot glass?'

‘Don't ask questions, just drink it down like this.' He brought the shot glass to his mouth and tossed the brandy back. He looked startled as he put the glass on the coffee table. ‘God, that took my breath away! Lethal stuff it is, but it does the trick. Drink it quickly, it's the only way to go.'

She nodded and did as he said, then shuddered and reared back slightly. ‘Blimey, it
is
lethal.'

‘It'll warm the cockles of your heart.'

She smiled at him, shaking her head, laughter dancing in her eyes.

‘What is it?' He gave her a long, penetrating stare.

‘You used to say exactly that when Kat forced me to drink her vegetable soup and I balked.'

‘I must've been a very wise little boy.'

‘Old-fashioned in a way,' she murmured and gazed into the fire. ‘And you always said it as if you believed it.'

‘I did, and I do. Calvados will warm you right through to your rib cage.' He noticed then that she was still shivering and he went and sat down next to her on the loveseat. Putting his arms around her, he pulled her close to him. ‘What you need is a little of my body heat.' With one hand he rubbed her arm, then drew her closer and held her even tighter, wrapping both his arms around her. ‘You'll be fine in a minute or two, you'll see. Scientists have proved that one of the best cures for hyperthermia in a person is someone else's body heat.'

Especially yours, Elizabeth thought, discovering how much she enjoyed being in his arms. He was tall and strong and robust, in glowing health, and she felt his vitality and energy flowing into her. She sneaked a surreptitious look at him, then closed her eyes, leaned against his broad chest … remembering … remembering her sailor man. How like him Robin was, with his dark hair and soulful eyes, although Robin's were darker in hue. But his height, his build were the same, and he had the same long legs and
athletic body as Tom Selmere. But then this sort of man was her type, wasn't it? She was always attracted to men like Robert Dunley … her Robin, her lovely, loving Robin … her best friend … her family … the man she loved … oh, my God …

Elizabeth held herself very still, hardly daring to breathe.
The
man she loved
. Why had she thought that, so suddenly … out of the blue? No, not out of the blue at all. She had loved him for a long time, she had just never admitted it to herself. Suddenly she was feeling unexpectedly breathless, excited, filled with longing for him. I want him … I want him to be mine … he
is
mine, isn't he? No, he's not … he will be. He must be … he belongs to me, doesn't he? It was then she thought of his wife … the wife he never spoke of … seemingly hardly ever saw … the wife
she
had long ago decided to forget … and she had succeeded in forgetting her …

Amy … the young girl he had married eight or nine years ago, in the first flush of his youthful masculinity … the wife he must surely have outgrown … she knew he had outgrown her …

‘Are you all right?' Robert asked, drawing away from her, looking down, then lifting her face with his hand so that he could see her expression better.

‘I'm perfect,' she answered in a small voice. ‘Why?'

‘You suddenly went quite still, very quiet.'

‘I was just … relaxing, and feeling warmer.' Hot and bothered and sexually aroused was more like it, she thought, and she struggled to extricate herself from him, jumped up, startling him in the process. ‘Lucas left lunch for us. I'd better go and warm it!' Her voice was unusually brisk, and she swung away from the fireplace, almost ran out of the library.

For a moment Robert was nonplussed by her sudden and hasty departure. He wanted to chase after her but he needed a moment to settle himself. He had an erection, and inside he was shaking, felt suddenly totally undone. He had wanted her for a long time now, since he had started to visit Ravenscar almost
a year ago, plotting and planning with her and Cecil, preparing for the future of Deravenels, waiting for Mary to die. All these months he had managed to keep a tight control over himself, never placed himself in a position where he might be tempted to … seduce her, make love to her, take possession of her as he had yearned to do. How long he had loved her, almost all of his life, since he had been an adoring little boy in short trousers.

She had looked so white a while ago, had been chilled to the bone, and in his attempts to make her feel better he had managed to get himself sexually aroused. You poor fool you, he thought, mentally castigating himself.

The one thing about Harry Turner that Elizabeth had always admired was that when he started a project he usually finished it in record time, and to perfection.

She thought about her father as she whizzed around the kitchen preparing lunch. When she was eleven and back in Harry's good graces, she had told him that the kitchen here at Ravenscar was not only old-fashioned but that it didn't work efficiently any more.

To her delight, and that of the staff, he had agreed, and had gone to great expense to remodel it, with her help. Once the old equipment had been torn out and thrown away, a spinach-green granite floor and matching counter tops had been put in, the walls had been painted a luscious peach and the cabinets and doors a pristine white. Then had come all of the new appliances she had helped him choose, including two large modern steel-fronted refrigerators, a wine cooler, a microwave oven, and joy of joys, an Aga. Every woman loved this stored-heat stove and cooker, and Elizabeth had insisted it be included in the plan. The Aga was never off, so that the kitchen was permanently warm day and night, and there were large hotplates and generous ovens for cooking combined in the one unit.

Since Harry had consulted her on everything to do with the remodelling, Elizabeth had suggested a granite-topped island in the middle of the floor instead of the old worn deal table. She had also insisted on a seating area for meals.

She herself had picked the perfect spot, near the Aga for warmth, but not so close that it was too hot. Now she went over to the eat-in corner, put placemats, knives, forks and napkins on the table, and added glasses.

Last year, when she had been living at Ravenscar permanently, she had found herself with time on her hands, especially at weekends. And so she had taken herself off to a cooking school in Harrogate. Whilst she didn't
love
cooking, she enjoyed making certain dishes, and she would have been happy to prepare lunch today. But Lucas had insisted on making it, and had.

He had put the food in Pyrex dishes and placed these on the island counter top, and all she had to do was put the cottage pie, peas and gravy in the microwave just before she was ready to serve lunch. After taking the plates of potted shrimps over to the circular table, she poured the water, and then went to make the toast for the shrimps.

She stood at the toaster and wondered what Robert was doing, and was startled a second later when he said, ‘I'm rather hungry.'