Lord Satan (20 page)

It took extra time to find Mr. Hedgesett, as he was on a
job. When at last she found him, he said, “Don’t know much about my men. They
come and go.”

“Do you remember who worked on the vicarage and who might
also have been at the Goose Inn near Mellingham in mid-July?”

“Told you. I don’t remember.”

“Could you even give me one name, someone I could ask who
might know more?”

Reluctantly, Mr. Hedgesett said, “There’s Mumms, my head
man. Could be he could tell you more. Don’t know what you expect to learn
that others haven’t. That Lord Neil asked me about it several weeks ago.”

“Did you have him talk to Mumms?”

“Don’t remember. He went around to several of my men. That
might have been after the slate fell off your roof and almost hit young
Cauldreigh.”

Libbetty obtained Mumms’ direction. Fortunately, he lived
closer to Peasebotham, as she had already been gone today as long as she
dared. She could walk to Mr. Mumms’s house.

It was several days later before she had the chance. The
Mumms’s cottage was halfway between Peasebotham and Crossfield, a
black-and-white, half-timbered house. His wife invited her in.

Mumms was a tall, thin man in his forties, who had just
finished his midday meal and was polishing off his mug of ale as she came in.
“What might I do for you, Miss Bishop?” he asked, deference for the vicar’s
daughter in his manner.

“What men worked on repairs to the vicarage?”

“Why there were several. Who did you want to know about?”

“One of them had dark hair, and was at the Goose Inn near
Mellingham in early June. Several of your men were there, and someone made a
wager on the outcome of a contest of strength.”

“I wouldn’t know about the Goose Inn. What the men do on
their own time is nothing to me. And more than one of the workmen have dark
hair.”

“Could you tell me their names and where they live?”

“Doesn’t seem right, a young girl like you calling on rough
men like these.”

“I would bring one of my brothers with me.” Libbetty might
actually allow Freddy or George to accompany her, although she had no intention
of inviting them.

“Well, there are four I can think of with dark hair:
Longdon, White, Carstow and Walford.”

Matthew Longdon and John Walford lived near Peasebotham, and
Libbetty knew them by sight. If either had been at the Goose when Cauldreigh
was poisoned, she would have recognized him, although she would talk to both
and see what information she could learn from them. She did not know Carstow
or White. After getting what information she could, she thanked Mumms and
left. In the next few days she would try to find each of them and learn if
they were at the Goose when Cauldreigh was poisoned.

With Libbetty’s days no longer occupied with social events,
she began to join the twins on their outings. It was a return to earlier days,
when she, Tom, and the twins had been nearly inseparable during the boys’
holidays from school. Now she found contentment in Freddy and George’s
company, relieved to stay away from The Castle residents, most especially Lord
Neil. Her excursions with her brothers could not keep him from her thoughts,
however.

How was he? The hurt in his eyes at their last meeting.
Perhaps her belief in his innocence meant something to him.

She refused any invitations that came her way, although each
time the temptation to see the Coltons almost overcame her determination.

Tom still accompanied Lord Cauldreigh, his guests and local
residents who made up his circle. A week after the Bassetts’ garden party, Tom
told Libbetty that the London visitors, except Jonathan Colton, had left. In
the next days, several of the young folk in Peasebotham and Crossfield, called
at the vicarage to complain of boredom since the visitors left.

These calls, and her thoughts of Lord Neil, sank Libbetty’s
spirits, but she hid her feelings and romped with her younger brothers as
though she had no cares. She decided adulthood was a difficult state, and she
would not deal with it at present.

One warm summer afternoon, Freddy and George invited
Libbetty to go fishing. For the first time, they also invited Catherine. Cat
jumped up, surprise and pleasure in her expression. Freddy had remarked to
Libbetty a few days before that their next younger sister had become remarkably
grown up. Apparently he had discussed it with George, and they had decided
Catherine could now participate in their excursions. Both girls scrambled
upstairs to change into their oldest gowns. Having begged a picnic lunch from
Mrs. Berkfield, the Bishops stopped to collect Alonso Hayes, and they all
headed for the brook.

They passed by fertile orchards where pears, plums, and
apples were ripening. A warm breeze blew, carrying the fruity scents of the
orchards. Birds fluttered about, the young ones learning to fly.

For a moment Libbetty felt dissociated from the others,
drinking in the goodness around her, realizing what she had overlooked in these
last weeks while preoccupied with the doings of a more worldly crowd. Then
hastily she came back to the others, who laughed over something she had missed.

“I’ll race you all to that tree,” George said, pointing to a
giant oak at the top of a rise. The three boys all took off running, Libbetty
only a step behind, hiking up her skirts to free her legs. After a little
hesitation, Catherine joined in. With his long legs, Alonso won the race,
although George was a close second. They all stood for a few minutes, catching
their breath and full of merriment.

They continued on to the brook and followed the bank, where
Alonso reported he had caught a good-sized trout the week before. A willow
overhung the water, making a shadowy hideout for the fish.

The boys sat to remove shoes and stockings, baited hooks,
and dropped lines in the water. Libbetty called Catherine to join her under
the willow, and the girls shed shoes and stockings, shielding each other.
Nearly as practiced as the boys, Libbetty grabbed a pole, rummaged in the bait
bucket to find a fat worm, and impaled it on her hook.

Catherine turned pale with enormous, alarmed eyes. Her
throat worked. “I don’t think I can do that,” she whispered.

“Come on, Cat,” Libbetty said. “The only way to do it is
not to think about it.” Cat gulped and shook her head, her complexion faintly
green.

“For Heaven’s sake,” Alonso said impatiently, taking the
pole from Catherine and baiting her hook. Then, he became more gentle with her
and demonstrated his fishing technique.

There were too many fishermen for this one small pool.
Libbetty moved apart from the others, around a bend in the brook. Here the
water flowed rapidly, the rocky bottom dappled with sunlight. A little farther
on, she spotted a more promising area and dropped in her line.

Almost immediately a large fish struck. “Eeeeeeyah” she
yelled exuberantly, tugging on the pole. The prey fought ferociously and her
pole bent nearly double. She hung on, arms aching from the strain. The finned
giant made one last, twisting leap. The pole snapped in two. The fish was
free, but trapped in a shallow pool and still hooked. Libbetty sprang into the
water. Floundering with the effort to seize it, she ignored the water
splashing over her clothing.

The fish darted sideways, and she fell full length into the
stream. Finally, she grabbed her prey and stood up, holding it aloft,
shrieking in triumph. At that moment, she became aware of a dark mass in her
field of vision and glanced up to see Lord Neil, on his big black hunter, on
the opposite bank.

Amusement lit his eyes, and he said, “Venus rising from the
sea.”

Libbetty almost lost her grip on the squirming, slippery
fish. Struggling to keep it, she said, “You could have helped.”

“You were managing quite well, and I was far too entertained
to think of joining in.”

She glanced resentfully at Lord Neil’s immaculate attire,
contrasted against her soaking gown pasted to her skin and her hair dripping
down her back.

At that moment the powerfully battling fish won its freedom,
striking the water with a huge splash. It mustn’t get away with the hook in
its mouth. She plunged into the water once more.

She could not defeat the beast in its own element, and it
quickly swam downstream out of reach. Libbetty saw a flash of black as Lord
Neil rode along the bank and lifted her gaze in time to see him leap from his
horse’s back into the stream. He had timed his leap perfectly and came up
holding the fish.

Laughing, with an exultant gleam in his eyes and water
sheeting off his buckskins, Lord Neil splashed over to Libbetty and, removing
the hook, presented his trophy. “You have a most unorthodox method of fishing,
Miss Bishop. Most people content themselves with using a rod and bait.”

Lord Neil’s recklessness ignited a jolt like lightning to
Libbetty’s innards. When he walked towards her, her limbs shook, and she could
not move to take possession of the fish. For a long moment she stood
dumbstruck. He was equally immobile, staring into her eyes, and then his gaze
dropped to her lips, which felt suddenly dry. Would he kiss her again? She
wanted that kiss with an intensity that shook her to the core.

“It seems you needed help after all.” He still stood very
near, his voice rough, unsteady, and his chest heaved as though he had been
running.

No words occurred to her in reply. She stared at him as he
shook water from his hair. She wanted to smooth the dark locks back from his
brow. What would his hair feel like?

She had no time to ponder, for just then Freddy rounded the
corner saying, “Hey, Lib, what’s to do here? Oh good, you’ve caught a big
one. That makes six—George and I each caught a fish, Alonso caught two small
ones, and even Cat got one—talk about beginner’s luck. We’re bringing them
home for Mrs. Berkfield to cook for dinner. Alonso’s coming to eat with us…” He finally slowed to a halt, staring intently as Lord Neil dropped the fish
into Libbetty’s basket.

The others had followed him, and Libbetty became
self-consciously aware of her bedraggled state. “Er, yes,” she said. “I
believe Lord Neil was just leaving.”

“Yes, I planned to call on neighbors,” Lord Neil agreed. “I
must be on my way.” He glanced down at his own damp clothing. “I, uh, believe
I’ll go home and change.” He mounted his horse with every appearance of
sangfroid and rode away.

“What was Lord Neil doing?” Alonso took the prerogative of
a long-time friend to ask the question Libbetty could see in the eyes of her brothers
and sister.

“My pole broke. He came along just in time to help me catch
the fish.” She lowered her eyelids against the look she saw in Alonso’s face,
of reproach? of warning? Alonso’s quick intelligence sometimes saw or surmised
too much.

Her own siblings were insensitive to the atmosphere. “I
say,” George said, “wasn’t that famous. Whoever’d imagine an out-and-outer
like Lord Neil would go flinging himself into the stream like a Trojan. Why
d’you suppose he did it?”

*

Neil rode away, restraining an immoderate urge to laugh
aloud. His damp breeches slid across the saddle with sucking noises, and
Camisard flicked his ears skittishly and bunched his muscles, prepared to erupt
at the fishy-smelling, foreign weight dripping water down his flanks. Neil
gathered him and sobered.

Why had he done such a crazy, infantile thing? He had vowed
to stay away from Elizabeth, to take cover inside The Castle where he would not
encounter her, but restlessness drove him out again. Each time he emerged from
his refuge he was drawn to her as to his lodestar. Recently, he frequently saw
her on outings with her brothers and the Hayes boy and envied them their
carefree youth. And now he had acted no older than those schoolboys.

His own youth had been stolen when his brother ran away with
Maude Rose, and he seldom regretted its loss. But it seemed today, in one mad
moment, he’d tried to recapture it. He should burn with embarrassment, but the
memory of that shared moment of intense awareness between Elizabeth Bishop and
him compensated for the wet clothing and the loss of dignity. Something had
shifted within him, changing him forever.

Unfortunately, nothing had changed in the situation. Any
alliance between them was still completely unsuitable. He envisioned her,
sparkling as afternoon light glinted off her sunny hair, her soaking clothes
revealing her graceful curves.

It would be criminal to waste all that freshness and bright
courage on a jaded cynic like himself. He must relinquish his thoughts of her
and depart Peasebotham as soon as he could resolve the problem of Trevor. Once
she no longer saw him, she would soon forget him and find someone with whom she
had a greater chance of happiness. Perhaps after he had returned to London, he
could begin to forget a courageous, tenderhearted miss with revealing blue eyes
and hair like dawn sunlight.

*

Throughout the dinner at the vicarage, Libbetty took little
note of the high spirits of the others. Freddy and George had been promoted to
eat with the adults since their return from school. Cat was included for the
occasion in honor of the fish she had caught.

She glowed when Alonso praised her ability to overcome a
girl’s natural reluctance to handling slimy, squirmy creatures such as worms and
fish. Her brothers chimed in their agreement, affording Libbetty some
amusement, remembering her own first excursion. Mr. Bishop having obtained the
living at Peasebotham, the Bishops had recently moved to the village. She was
ten or perhaps had just turned eleven, and she insisted on tagging after Tom
and Alonso. Qualms about baiting her hook had not even occurred to her. She
was already an experienced fisherman when Freddy and George were allowed to
accompany their older siblings.

Her mind returned to her disturbing problem, worrying it
through the rest of dinner and the long sleepless night. What was she to do in
the wake of her stunning discovery that day? No longer could she hide under
the vague labels she had given to her feelings for Lord Neil, words such as
fascination or tendre. It felt like forever, or at least for the rest of her
life.

If only he had not come so splendidly to her rescue. Then
she might have gone on fooling herself with lesser words than love. No, such
thoughts were cowardly, and impossible besides. Eventually she would have
realized the truth.

What could she do? Only a hopelessly romantic person would
see any chance Lord Neil returned her love. She was a realist, and she knew
too certainly the vast gulf between them. She was little more than one of his
tenants, and her father’s position at Peasebotham was dependent on Lord Neil’s
family. She was a country nobody, and he was mature, experienced with
cosmopolitan beauties such as Mrs. Dalrymple.

Why had he done it? She wished she could believe he was
motivated by interest in her. But nothing in his manner over the past months
indicated he cared more than the ordinary for her.

She had challenged him; she almost groaned recalling those
impetuous words, you could have helped. She had practically forced him to
become involved in that ridiculous chase for the fish. Oh, how she wished she
had let it swim away. Just as Lord Neil would shortly follow his friends back
to London, to be swallowed up again in his real life, surrounded by glamorous
women and exciting events. He would never think of her again.

She would stay in Peasebotham the rest of her life, trying
to forget him. She would involve herself in good works and … what about
Wat? She owed him an explanation for breaking off the betrothal. He deserved
a woman who could care for him as she did not. She would arrange a meeting at
church this coming Sunday.

*

Libbetty sidled Concobhar to a fallen oak and dismounted.
Securing his reins to a sturdy branch, she turned to the abandoned hut where
she met had Wat several months before. Summer heat and sunshine had deposed
the damp and gloom of that day, but the brightness did little to improve the
hut’s appearance. Indeed its dilapidation and squalor seemed heightened.

She had arrived early for her rendezvous with Wat. Sunlight
filtered through the branches overhead. A breeze stirred the air, bearing
scents of leaves, dust, and a floral fragrance. The occasional rustle of a
small animal disturbed the dry undergrowth. A bee buzzed past on its way
between flowers and hive. The forest was peaceful yet alive. She turned to
the hut.