Read Black Heather Online

Authors: Virginia Coffman

Black Heather (16 page)

BOOK: Black Heather
11.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

As for Sir Nicholas, I looked up and saw his faint smile and very nearly wrenched myself free of his grasp. Was he actually so ignorant, after all that had happened about the dogs in the garden tonight, that he still believed I had merely been having nightmares? Too much syllabub, indeed! As a matter of plain fact, Mrs. Sedley’s collapse had interfered seriously with my taking a second helping.

 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I went, m
ore or less under pressure, to my room, dragging or pulling all the way. When he thrust the door open with the toe of his boot, I realized it was no good my protesting further. He had everything under his own control and would pay no heed to me, being so very sure of himself in all matters.

He kicked the door shut behind us, which seemed greatly daring to me. What would the others think? And would Mrs. Sedley write the full and dreadful details on a page to Mama?

He swung me around by one hand, and I sat down abruptly on the foot of the bed, smoldering at the indignity of it all.

“I assure you, sir,” said I in what I hoped was the oldest voice had I ever used, “every word of what I said was true. I did see someone in my—in this room. And it tried to kill me. It was someone pretending to be the Hag.”

With that extreme patience used by normal adults to scarcely breeched infants, Sir Nicholas stood before me, removing the candles from my hand and nodding at my assurances.

“Yes; yes, certainly. But you must forget these wild efforts of yours to promote a fear of the Hag’s Head. My man is purchasing it from the Sedley agent tomorrow in Maidenmoor. Now, will you be the sweet, sensible puss I know you are? Lock yourself in here when I leave. Then go to sleep and do not leave this room until after your breakfast tea is served.”

“Excellent, sir,” I replied demurely, incensed at his announcement of his own plan to purchase Megan Kelleher’s inn before I could do so. Apparently he would stoop to any stratagem to thwart me.

He set down the candles and took my two hands in his. Had I not been so very angry, I am persuaded I should quite have fallen in with his blandishments, for he had never seemed so handsome or so very imposing. But I knew his use of these qualities was for his own ends. He wished me to be out of his way, for what purpose I could not imagine, unless we knew all along that I was telling the truth and wished to silence me before I betrayed too much. I would not in the least put it beyond him.

“That’s my good girl,” he said in a voice whose warmth and merry tenderness made me shiver with that now familiar sensation of uneasy pleasure he aroused in me. How skillfully he used his insincere weapons against women like me! I supposed it might have been much the same with Megan Sedley before she married Patrick. Only she had guessed this man’s use of his charm.

“Thank you,” I said, adding just as he was sure he had me beaten, “Only I cannot lock myself in and do as you ask me—sir.”

The beginnings of a frown cracked up that handsome, hitherto unfurrowed brow, and I beheld his forbidding scowl. “Really? May one ask why?”

“Certainly!” I ended triumphantly. “If you would examine that door, you will find it impossible to lock.”

He gave a sigh of exasperation at my trick, then broke into a laugh. Greatly to my astonishment, he reached out beyond my hands and caught my shoulders, and before I could turn my head, he kissed me as close to my lips as makes no matter, and then smiled at my surprise. With his eyes glowing under the light of my candles, he looked at me for a moment before letting me go. I licked my lips deliberately to let him know he was n
o
t to win my obedience by such methods, but he only laughed, chucked me under the chin with his curved forefinger, and left me. He paused before entering the hall to consider my problem of the lockless door.

After looking around at the room’s furnishings, he lifted a lyre-backed chair over to the door, propped it under the doorlatch, and showed it to me.

“When I have gone, place the back under the latch—so. It would be exceedingly difficult for anyone in the corridor to open the door. You see?”

I nodded, unable to speak; for I was rather shocked to find that I had thoroughly enjoyed his kiss, and I did not wish him to guess his power over my emotions.

When he had gone, I got up and started across the floor to do as he suggested. As I did so, my stocking foot trod upon something stiff that stuck to the heel of my stocking.

I reached down, scraped it up between two fingers, and found that it was a clod of red mud. I moved more slowly across the floor, examining every part of the carpet, noting that the marks were found wherever Sir Nicholas’s boots had stepped in my room. I opened the door wider and looked into the gallery-corridor. However I might have been deceived about Elspeth’s removal of the mud spots from my room, I had seen her remove all signs from the corridor. And more—I had examined that corridor myself after catching her. There had been no spots of red mud. There were now, though, and further traces wherever Sir Nicholas had walked or paused a few minutes before.

I began to shiver, feeling the rush of chill air through all the galleries and corridors of the large house. I went back into my room quickly, thrust the chair under the latch as Sir Nicholas had indicated, and ran across the room to wrap my shivering arms in my coat while I calmed these dreadful, nagging fears and cleared my mind for immediate plans. I was still so nervous that I could scarcely remain calm long enough to ask myself why Sir Nicholas found it necessary to frighten me by wearing that preposterous Hag’s garments. Or even worse—had he intended to strangle me before being interrupted by the thunder? Perhaps, though, he could be kind at one moment and a raging lunatic the next. That would explain all very cozily—except, of course, his maddening fascination to me, which made my discovery of his crimes all the worse.

Small wonder he had dismissed Ezra Hardwicke’s comment about the frantic dogs and scoffed at my story of the invader who might be a phantom. Phantom, indeed! How could I have been so gullible? Nothing on earth could really look like that Hag. It had all been a trick. It surprised me to discover that the most painful aspect of the masquerade was not the danger to my life, but the feeling that I had been betrayed by a man with whom I might have fallen in love. Only minutes before I had again been under the influence of the man’s sensuous power. This was what came of not heeding Mama’s strictures on the subject. How often she had reminded me, “Brief acquaintance does not bear well. One must know a person a length of time before making judgments.”

The warm cavern formed by the coat around my body soon restored my spirits, and in no time I was making vigorous plans to outfox my dangerous adversary. Only to think that such tricks and masquerades, and even attempts on my life, must have been pursued in order to keep me from purchasing the Hag’s Head Inn! What could possibly be worth so much in that abandoned building?

Every time I thought about that idiotic fright I had received at the inn, a fright that had killed poor Macrae, I became angry with Sir Nicholas all over again. How could he care so very much about a mere piece of real estate that he would help to spread such wild tales and even wear Guy Fawkes fright masks with which to accomplish his purposes?

My childish attack of nerves, for which I was heartily ashamed, had nearly subsided, when every nerve started up in alarm as I heard the latch of my door tried softly. The chair I had thrust under the latch began to move and shake under the pressure. I glanced around the room in renewed panic, wondering what force the simple, delicate chair would withstand.

“Kathleen?” Elspeth called in an urgent whisper. “Let me in.”

I hurried to the door, demanding from my temporary refuge behind the chair, “Why? Can’t it wait until morning?”

“Kathleen! Please—he may hear us.”

So she knew, as I did, that Sir Nicholas was our adversary. I removed the chair very slightly and opened the door scarcely more than the width of my hand. I could see one of Elspeth’s heavy lidded eyes staring at me through the barely open door, her true feelings masked as always by her lashes, long and dark and spidery.

“What do you want?” I asked suspiciously.

“Hush! He seems to be everywhere tonight. Let me in. Do.”

I could not but be doubtful of this request in the deep night. Indeed, the strange dead gray mist that was the harbinger of dawn had already begun to creep into my room beneath the portieres at the windows.

“Can’t it be later?” I asked, only to have her put her long finger to her lips, moving with a kind of deliberation that made her appear almost drugged.

“Please. We cannot talk like this. He is sure to hear us. It is about Grandmama.” She rattled the latch again, and I felt that if she persisted in her odd behavior she surely would arouse Sir Nicholas, plus his dogs and any number of other unpleasant things. Whatever happened, I did not want to encounter his Hag’s disguise any more tonight.

Before letting her in, I did what must have been conceived a very odd thing by anyone, had my action been subject to witness. I looked about for a weapon against this young vampire. I still smarted under Mrs. Sedley’s insinuation that I was inferior, less feminine, but I meant to protect myself against the eerie hint of danger she and her granddaughter presented.

“Quickly!” Elspeth commanded in a hoarse whisper, rattling the latch angrily.

“Yes. Yes. One moment. The chair is caught.” I ran my fingers over the escritoire to the right of the door and found amid the dust a pen with its
shaven point split and broken. It was inadequate, but its ragged, broken point would certainly give pause to an attacker. I broke off the feather and put the rest of the pen inside the belt of my gown. Then I wrested the chair out from under the lock, and through the narrow space I yielded to her, she squeezed her way with a serpent’s ease, then closed the door silently behind her. I saw that her hands were shaking.

She turned to me with dark, accusing eyes. “What have you done with her?” she asked. “Tell me where she went to.”

Scarcely anything she said would have surprised me more.

“Done with
..
.
? Sir Nicholas brought me here and went away. I haven’t seen anyone else.”

“You must have. Grandmama is gone. I couldn’t think of anywhere else she might have gone of her own wish.” She was looking around the little room all the time she spoke, her dark gaze taking in every shadowy
corner
where the candles did not penetrate. It made me excessively nervous.

“In any case, I have not seen her,” I said, though I suspect it fell on deaf ears. “When I met you in the gallery earlier in the night, I heard your grandmother speaking to Mrs. Hardwicke. But I have not seen her since her illness at dinner.”

I noted that Elspeth had dressed after we met earlier. It made me feel the importance of this odd business about Mrs. Sedley. Elspeth moved around the room shaking the portieres, so that I saw dawn was at hand, and rustling the frilled bed curtains, which remained open as they had been when I entered the room, so that they now gave off little sprays of dust.

I watched her, finding her panic contagious.

“She is not here. I give you my word. Can she walk without help?”

A faint breeze came from between the windows, which I had incompletely closed, and it ruffled Elspeth’s muslin gown as she fluttered about, groping at the furniture, thrusting it out of the way. When she swung around toward me, her fingers like claws, her face whiter than I had ever seen it, she whispered in a way that made my skin prickle, “Where can she have got to? Nothing would make her walk further than a few steps. My own room was beside hers, and I heard nothing. I have gone through room after room. She is nowhere. Yet she never walks, except upon the most pressing occasions.”

I unlatched the door and peered out into the gallery. It was as silent and at first as dark as it had been at midnight. I found it almost incredible that at this hour Mrs. Sedley should have chosen to walk beyond an adjoining room or two. At the same time, any alternate possibility was even more incredible.

“But Elspeth, nothing else is possible. She cannot have been seized by—by anyone, without a disturbance. And for what cause?”

Elspeth made me frantically nervous, floating
toward me with the breeze fluttering her garments and her heavy-lidded eyes gazing at me with the curious inhuman gleam of a serpent.

“It is the Hag’s Head he wants. Don’t you understand? Grandmama won’t sell it to him because he intends to burn it and everything in it.”

“Burn it? But why?” Even now, after all I had learned of his evil, I could not quite countenance these new attacks upon Sir Nicholas. Despite myself, I would persist in thinking of those kind actions of his, the tenderness and ... I could not forget the moment when
h
e had kissed me. I could never forget that, I told myself, no matter what manner of creature he might be at other times.

“Some absurd notion that it would have pleased Aunt Megan. He doesn’t wish Patrick or Grandmama to have people wandering about the inn searching for Aunt Megan’s money.”

“But if Sir Nicholas offered Mrs. Sedley the price of the inn, why should she prefer the Bodmun money? What can I give her that he cannot?”

BOOK: Black Heather
11.37Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Signal by Patrick Lee
December 6 by Martin Cruz Smith
Opening Belle by Maureen Sherry
Faith by Lyn Cote
Valeria’s Cross by Kathi Macias & Susan Wales
Tennison by La Plante, Lynda
the Source (2008) by Cordy| Michael
Jingo Django by Sid Fleischman