Lord Satan (4 page)

“Precisely.” Tom’s eyes lighted with mischief.

“What’s the mystery?” Libbetty asked. “Maude Whitelow
probably lived at the farm before her marriage.” She gathered the reins,
prepared to bow out of Tom’s game.

“She’s the one who ran away with the marquess’s father!” A
wide grin split Tom’s face.

Edwina snorted. “How dared she come back?”

“Mayhap she thought the scandal would have faded by now,
since it’s been almost twenty years. She must have inherited the house and
wanted to return to her girlhood home.” Tom’s eyes still sparkled with
excitement, although the others had progressed to varying degrees of
embarrassment. “What say we all ride over there, see if we can see anything of
the woman?”

“We can’t take the girls there,” Francis said, shocked.

“No!” Edwina shuddered. “When I think of all the suffering
that woman caused, I never want to lay eyes on her. I am going home.” She
stared at Libbetty, a silent command to dismount and give the horse to Zack to
lead home.

“Well, what about you, Libbetty? Aren’t you curious to see
the woman?” Tom asked.

She shifted in the sidesaddle and looked around at their
faces—Tom’s eager, Francis’s ready to be persuaded, Edwina’s angry. “No, I’m
sure it would not be proper.” She was tempted, though, to see what such a
woman would look like.

“Come, Lib, you used to be game for anything,” Tom coaxed.

She might have allowed him to convince her, but Edwina spun
her horse away, calling Zack to follow.

“Wait,” Libbetty said, starting to dismount.

“I can bring the horse back home if you wish to come with
us,” offered Francis.

Libbetty paused. Edwina waited for her to make up her
mind. Zack came to her side to help her down. Several feet away, the groom’s
mount snorted and stamped its feet. Libbetty said, “The horses have already
been ridden enough for today.” She dismounted and glanced at Tom, who had
already accepted her refusal and appeared eager to be off.

“Go without me, Tom. I should see how Mama does anyway.”
Mrs. Bishop had recently confided that she expected a new baby in the fall, and
needed extra help from Libbetty to manage her duties about the home and the
parish.

The others rode away. Libbetty stood beside the gate and
watched, already regretting her newfound sense of responsibility.

When she came down to dinner that evening, Tom waited in the
dining room, wearing a coat of dark brown superfine and a fresh neckcloth. He
had recently received some new clothes in anticipation of his leaving for
Oxford in the autumn.

However, his glum expression told of his failure to catch
sight of the scandalous widow. “I saw no more of Mrs. Whitelow than you
did staying home,” were his confirming words to Libbetty. “And now
Papa has lectured me that I am wasting too much time away from my studies and must
concentrate on them.”

“Oh, Tom. That is too bad,” Libbetty said. “But I’m
sure Papa will relent after a few days.”

“I’m not so certain. He rang a peal over me, I’ll tell
you. He seems to think all my gadding about has to do with the furor over the
marquess, and now Mrs. Whitelow.”

Well, hasn’t it? Libbetty wanted to say. Their mother
entered the room just then, preventing any further private discussion.

*

The following day, Libbetty waited in vain for Edwina.
Libbetty had sensed a coolness in Edwina as they parted, but she did not know
whether Edwina had become discouraged about the chances that their rides would
result in a meeting with Lord Cauldreigh or was pouting because of Libbetty’s
vacillation over riding to Rose Farm. However, since her father had confined
Tom to his studies, she grasped the opportunity to ride Concobhar to meet Wat,
her secret betrothed.

Recent events had prevented Libbetty from meeting him. The
absence of meetings between them had relieved Libbetty, bringing her to an awareness
of her uncertainty over the betrothal. Perhaps she had accepted his proposal
at least in part to save her parents from the worry of finding a match for
her. But then, why had she so feared telling them? Did she love Wat enough
for marriage? Perhaps meeting him again would answer some of her questions.

As Libbetty passed by Dr. Hayes’
black-timbered-and-white-plastered Tudor house, his son Alonso appeared from
the stableyard and trotted down the drive on his big sorrel gelding.
“Libbetty, wait,” he called, setting the horse into a canter.

She stopped, concealing her dismay. It appeared her friend
intended to join her, and she could not meet Wat with Alonso at her side.
Trying to think of a polite way to rid herself of his unwanted presence, she
waited as he bounced down the drive. Alonso had the most ungainly seat on a
horse, which never seemed to bother him. Her friend just jounced along like an
untidy bundle of sticks tied to the saddle.

Although a year younger than Libbetty, Alonso had grown tall
suddenly. He was all angles and bones, wrists protruding from the sleeves of
his coat, a too-large nose and a shock of thick, sandy hair. Yet when he
stopped by her and smiled his wide smile, her annoyance faded.

“Has your father made Tom concentrate on his studies again?”
he asked, nodding at Concobhar. Although just sixteen, Alonso was exceedingly
smart and would attend Oxford this fall with Tom.

“Yes, I fear so.” Libbetty stayed in place, hoping to
appear as if she had only stopped for a brief greeting before each went about
their separate purposes.

He walked his horse in the direction she had been riding,
forcing Libbetty to fall in with him. “Tom has the whole summer to repair the
deficiencies in his Greek. I thought your father had allowed him time for a
ride each day.”

“I believe Papa is annoyed about Tom’s preoccupation with
our local scandals more than concerned about his studies.”

“Oh, that.” Alonso wrinkled his nose, his eyes turning
cold.

She recalled her idea to gain admittance to The Castle.
“Your papa attends upon Lord Cauldreigh, doesn’t he?”

“Yes.”

The blunt syllable did not encourage Libbetty, but she
forged on. “Could you ask him about the marquess’s condition?”

“No.” Alonso’s blue eyes turned to ice. “He would not tell
me if I asked, and I wouldn’t ask.”

Libbetty’s face flamed, and it felt as though birds had
taken up residence in her belly. “I didn’t ask merely from curiosity, or to
have a tale to tell around the village. I asked for Edwina’s sake. Her mother
wishes her to marry Lord Cauldreigh and is making life exceedingly difficult
for Edwina because she hasn’t even met him yet.”

“Why would she blame Edwina because he is ill? That doesn’t
make any sense.” His mouth twisted.

“Mrs. Hogwood is quite set on getting her own way, and
Edwina isn’t able to defy her. All the pressure has overset her.”

“What nonsense.” Alonso said disgustedly. “I can’t imagine
why anyone should want to marry, anyway.” He smiled at her though, apparently
accepting her explanation.

Would Alonso help her to sneak into The Castle? Libbetty
relinquished the plan to meet Wat to pursue her idea of enlisting Alonso.

He could think up wonderful schemes. She was sure she could
overcome his reluctance and inspire him with the difficulties and challenge of
the endeavor. All she needed was to find the right way to approach him. She
continued in a friendly fashion, “I’m sure you will change your mind about
marriage when you are older.”

“Perhaps I shall. Not for years and years, though.”

Concobhar snorted and sidestepped as a breeze shook a branch
that poked out into the lane almost by the thoroughbred’s nose. Libbetty’s
attention was diverted to controlling the horse.

“Care to race?” Alonso nodded his head toward the stretch
of land leading away from the road.

“Not today. Alonso, I must talk to you about something.”

He cocked an inquiring brow, and she hastened on, “Edwina
and I need you to help us find a way into The Castle.”

“He needs peace to heal, not silly girls disturbing him.”

“We wouldn’t disturb him.”

“What would be the good of meeting a man raving with fever?
You’re both attics to let if you think that will avail you.”

“If we could but see him and be reassured that he is not
being harmed by Lord Neil, it would ease her mind—and mine.”

“‘Harmed by Lord Neil?’ You’ve caught the same madness that
has affected the rest of the village. Do you think my father would lend
himself to such a scheme?” Alonzo’s hands tightened on the reins, making his
horse toss its head and step restively.

“No, of course not. However, he might not realize…“

“Oh, now he is not venal, only incompetent. He cannot tell
the difference between a man with a fever and one who is—what?—being poisoned?”

Tears came to Libbetty’s eyes. “I never said that, Alonso.
I would never insult your father or question his knowledge. But he is not with
Lord Cauldreigh every minute, is he? And everybody says Lord Neil wants to
inherit the title and wealth.”

“Oh, gossip! People love a scandalous story! It doesn’t
matter whether there’s anything to it. You’ve always had more sense, I
believed. Is it associating with Edwina Hogwood that’s made your brain soft?”

The injustice of his words stung. “I don’t necessarily
believe it, but I don’t discount it either. And that’s why I need to find out
the truth for myself. Not all gossip is lies. It’s true that Lord
Cauldreigh’s father ran away with Mrs. Whitelow, isn’t it?”

“Ye-es, that’s true. But why have you appointed yourself
the truth-finder? It doesn’t affect you one way or another.”

“It would affect me if Lord Cauldreigh is killed and I could
have prevented it.”

Alonso was silent—and from the expression on his face, it
was not the silence of belief, but of having all his arguments rebutted and
having nothing else to say.

After a short silence, Libbetty ventured, “I made sure you’d
think it an adventure. Can’t you think of a way into The Castle? It wouldn’t
be easy. Maybe you wouldn’t be able to do it. But think if you did. It would
be more of a challenge than stealing Beddoes’ apples, even more than what you
and Tom did to old Roscoe.”

Beddoes was a mean, miserly farmer, and Roscoe a carter.
Tom and Alonso had seen Roscoe beating his old, broken-down horse, and
administered their own brand of justice, sneaking into his hut while he was
sleeping, putting stinging nettles in his clothes and boots. They had not
allowed Libbetty in on the latter adventure, claiming it was too dangerous.

Alonso looked intrigued, but he argued, “It isn’t the same
thing. Beddoes and Roscoe deserved what they got. Lord Cauldreigh hasn’t done
anyone any harm.”

“We wouldn’t harm him, just look at him. But I guess you
don’t think you can carry it off, so never mind.”

“What makes you think I can’t?”

The following afternoon Edwina appeared at the vicarage for
their ride with no explanation for her absence the previous day.

They set out for Cauldreigh Castle. Apple blossom petals
littered the lane on which they rode and the grassy meadows all around them.
Bees buzzed tentatively around the few blossoms remaining on the trees. The
spring day was fair but cool, a few clouds obscuring the sun from time to time,
casting the Cauldreigh woods into shadow. The coolness refreshed Libbetty, as
her riding habit, of heavy greenish-gray wool, grew uncomfortably hot in warm
weather.

Edwina’s habit in bright burgundy was also wool, but of a
lighter weight, and she shivered whenever the sun disappeared behind a cloud.
Despite this, she insisted on continuing their ride.

Libbetty brought forward her scheme to have Alonso help with
their plan to storm The Castle.

“I don’t want an outsider involved.” Edwina’s mouth set
mulishly.

“Alonso is not an outsider. He is a good friend, and he
would not give away any secrets if he agrees.”

“Tell me why you think Alonso should help us.” Edwina
appeared ready at last to listen to reason.

“Well, he is clever, and he’s thought up wonderful tricks.
I’m sure he can think of a way into The Castle. His father attends upon Lord
Cauldreigh and has been inside several times. He would not talk to Alonso
about the marquess, but I’m sure he would not consider describing The Castle as
gossip. People like to hear about big old houses, and no one thinks anything
wrong in that. We could find all manner of useful information.”

“Would he do that?”

“I have him almost persuaded. If I tell him you agree to
follow his instructions, as I already have, he’ll go ahead.”

“Very well, tell him I’ll go along. But do it soon. I
shall go quite mad if something does not happen.” Edwina spurred her horse and
it darted forward. Her recklessness proved the girl was upset.

Libbetty followed. “Edwina, you are unjust. It matters
little to me whether you marry Lord Cauldreigh. I have only tried to help
you. Scarcely anyone has as great an interest in your meeting the marquess as
you have—except your mother, and I have not observed she has contributed
anything of use.”

Edwina’s face screwed up with incipient tears. “You are
right. I have been all wrapped up in my own concerns. But you cannot know how
Maman has nagged at me. She is obsessed with my marrying Lord Cauldreigh, and
cross-grained because Papa and Francis have not managed to scrape an
acquaintance with the Coltons. They can escape from her whenever they want,
but I cannot. And, oh, Libbetty,” her voice broke, choked with tears, “you
know how I have always hated discord,” she finished in almost inaudible tones.

Libbetty sidled her horse close enough to pat Edwina’s arm.
“I know. It will all come about, I vow.”

Her friend regained control. “Well, I will be guided by
you. Come, let us go home.”

They turned and rode back along the path. As they rounded a
curve, Lord Neil Colton blocked their way, astride his black horse, which
nickered and strained at the firm hands on the reins.

Edwina gave a stifled shriek and pulled on the reins,
forcing her horse back on his haunches and nearly unseating her. Libbetty
startled as well, and the drumming heartbeat that echoed in her ears sounded
loud enough for the others to hear.

Lord Neil’s smiled without a hint of real humor. He was
waiting for us. He knows about our daily rambles on his land and he plans to
end them. Libbetty’s throat tightened as she made herself ride up to him.
Edwina followed more slowly.

“Good day, ladies.” He swept off his top hat in a
mock-courtly gesture. She saw no sign of the consideration he had displayed
toward her at their last meeting. She nodded warily.

“Miss Bishop.” he went on. She nodded again, and he gave
his attention to Edwina, “And Miss—?”

“Miss Hogwood.” Libbetty hoped he did not detect the tremor
in her voice. What did he intend to do?

“How do you do, Miss Hogwood?” Another mocking bow.

Edwina murmured some words in a faint voice.

Lord Neil’s lips formed a smile that held no amusement.
“Perhaps you ladies do not realize you’re trespassing on Cauldreigh land?”

Edwina simply stared, her face so pale that Libbetty feared
she would either fall off her horse in a faint or gallop ignominiously away.

He didn’t need to act so harsh. It was not as if they were
poaching. Her friend’s incapacity obliged Libbetty to speak the excuses Edwina
had prepared for this eventuality. “Yes, we did realize it.” She concealed
her rising temper with a meek tone. “I hope you don’t object, sir, but the woods
have many pleasant paths to ride. On such a warm day, we find the coolness
refreshing.”

A cloud chose this moment to cross before the sun, and
Edwina visibly shivered in her lightweight riding habit. Guilty heat flooded
her face.

With a smirk, Lord Neil replied, “I had no idea. I presumed
you ladies were native to this region, but I see I was mistaken. You must come
from much farther north to find our English weather uncomfortably warm.”

Libbetty asked, “May we not ride here, Lord Neil?”

He shrugged. “I have no objection. I would advise you to
stay on the paths, however. We have had to put traps out. You may have heard
we have had considerable problems with poachers.” His gaze raked them over
and, with a last look at Libbetty, he turned his horse abruptly down another
path.

Heart pounding, Libbetty watched the stiff set of his broad
shoulders under the black riding coat as he rode away. Although the capricious
sun peeped out again, she shivered, a deep wracking shake that came from the
center of her body.

Edwina, still pale from the encounter, rode toward home.

Libbetty followed. “Did you hear, Edwina? He said they’ve
put out mantraps. If we try to sneak into The Castle, we’ll have to go by the
road and avoid the woods.”

“I would not traverse the woods at night in any case. But
if I do not learn some news of Lord Cauldreigh soon, I shall go quite mad. How
soon can we find out if Alonso will help us enter The Castle?”

Libbetty paid little heed to Edwina’s words. The dark,
mocking expression on Lord Neil’s face had planted itself in her mind. He
thinks we believe he attempted to kill his nephew.

His pain at the fascinated abhorrence everyone showed
towards him took root in her chest as if were her own. A warm rush of sympathy
followed, along with shame that she had doubted his innocence.

Then she realized he had taken pleasure in playing upon
their opinion of him to intimidate them the more. Her shame dissipated in a
wave of anger and confusion.

No, she would never figure out Lord Neil Colton. Was he
trying to kill his nephew?

*

Barefooted, wearing trousers and a shirt belonging to her
brother George, Libbetty balanced on a damp, slippery branch of the oak outside
the window of her room. Her hair was pinned up and anchored by a cap borrowed
from Freddie, George’s twin.

She left the window open a crack so she could reenter,
hoping it didn’t create enough draft to awaken her sisters. A quarter moon
shining through a haze of clouds lit her way as she clambered down the tree.
She located the sturdy boots and coat she had tossed to the ground and put them
on.

The night was balmy, although a light layer of clouds
obscured the sky. Walking silently so as not to awaken anyone, she made her
way to the garden shed where Alonso waited for her.

“Let’s go meet Edwina,” Libbetty whispered.

Hogwood Manor was the other direction from The Castle, and
Libbetty had been annoyed by Edwina’s refusal to allow Alonso to collect her
before coming for Libbetty. It would add unneeded minutes to the long walk.
She and Alonso covered the ground quickly, but Edwina was not sitting on the
garden bench behind the house, as she had arranged.

“Now, what?” fumed Libbetty.

“Should have known her nerve would fail,” Alonso snorted.
“Never known such a namby-pamby miss.”

“Perhaps she is merely late.” Libbetty walked around the
building to Edwina’s window. “Find some pebbles to throw,” she whispered to
Alonso.

Alonso threw pebbles against the window, but it remained
stubbornly shut. “What now? You want to give up this expedition?”

“By no means. I want to discover what I can about Lord
Cauldreigh, even if Edwina is too craven.” In truth, the thrill of adventure
overshadowed her desire to see Lord Cauldreigh. The rush of blood heightening
her senses was a heady potion that she could not forego.

“Let’s hurry or we won’t arrive there and home before
dawn.” Alonso’s long stride set a bruising pace, which forced Libbetty to
nearly run. Because of the mantraps, they had to take the longer route by the
road.

The imposing Palladian front of Cauldreigh Castle gleamed in
the pale moonlight. Alonso led the way around the massive structure to the
medieval wing. Panting, Libbetty followed him.

“Careful now,” he warned, picking his way across a tumble of
ruins from an outer wall. The bulk of The Castle blocked the moonlight,
casting deep shadows. Even though her eyes had adapted to the dark,
perspective and distance were thrown off by the murky grayness, making it
difficult to move silently.

Libbetty stumbled and caught herself, bruising one hand on a
sharp stone through the leather gloves she had borrowed from George. Her
near-fall had caused a clatter, and she froze, waiting for some sign she had
been heard.

“Don’t worry,” Alonso reassured her. “No one’s ever in this
part of The Castle. It’s almost in ruins.” He had whispered, however. She
moved forward again. They scrambled down into a ditch that must have been a
moat at one time. She breathed a silent prayer of gratitude for George’s
trousers. She could not have accomplished the trek in skirts. Clambering up
the other side, she came up against The Castle’s wall.

Alonso crept along the side to a niche near the corner.
Libbetty clutched the stones to keep from falling back into the moat, feeling
them crumble under her fingers. Unwillingly, she imagined the entire bastion
collapsing on them and had to force away the urge to escape. Her heart pounded
and sweat tickled her underarms. Had the falling stone that nearly spelled
Lord Cauldreigh’s doom come from above her?

Alonso gestured at her. “Hurry!” She caught up with him
and ducked into the recess, thankful to escape from the illusion of the wall’s
tipping over her.

He fumbled with a latch. “I unlocked it earlier. I deduced
they probably didn’t check the doors in this section every night. I hope I…”
The door creaked open a few inches. “There! I was right.” He slipped
through, Libbetty hard on his heels, a deep breath escaping her at their
relative safety inside.

“It’s a distance to the inhabited part. We need to stay
together, or you could become lost.” He still whispered.

“And wander for years until my ghostly bones are finally
discovered?”

Alonso gave a short laugh. “Almost too true. Be careful
now. Someone might hear.” He led the way across stone floors littered with
the detritus of centuries. It was entirely black in the room, and if Alonso
could see any better than Libbetty, she did not know how. Still, he seemed to
know the way, and she followed, clutching the back of his coat. Their feet made
crunching or shuffling noises despite their efforts to move silently. The
smell of mold and dust thickened the air.

They passed through a doorway, along a stone-lined passage,
up a curving flight of stairs, and into another vast chamber. Several tall,
narrow windows cast dim illumination, and Libbetty let go of Alonso’s coat.
The flagstone floors were swept bare, evidence someone entered here at least
for occasional cleaning. A huge fireplace took up most of one end wall.

“This room passes into a more inhabited part of The Castle.
I think we should split up here. We’ll double the chances we might find Lord
Cauldreigh’s bedchamber.”

“You mean you didn’t discover where that was?” Libbetty
gulped, dread arising at the thought of walking about alone.

“No, I spent my time here finding a door I could leave
unlocked, and carrying out my story of great interest in medieval
architecture. There wasn’t time to do both. As it was, Father finished his
examination of Lord Cauldreigh and sent a servant to look for me. I was nearly
caught unlocking the door.”

“I didn’t realize.” She would not give in to her fears.

“One hour. Meet me back here whether you’ve found him or
not. Otherwise, we’ll never be home before dawn.”

Libbetty nodded. They moved out of the room and separated.
She watched Alonso until he went out of sight around a corner and then headed
the other way. Fingers of ice seemed to be swirling around inside her belly,
and the heady rush had evaporated. The memory of how Lord Neil had frightened
her and Edwina in the woods a few days ago teased at her. If she were caught,
it would not necessarily be by him, but a servant would take her to him
anyway. What would he do with her? Did The Castle have a dungeon?

She was in a newer wing of The Castle. She walked in
paneled hallways, her footsteps muffled by thick carpets. Sconces along the
corridor contained blazing candles. Did they leave them burning all night, or
had someone in the household not retired? Could they be kept burning for Lord Neil?
Her heart raced at the thought of him still awake, somewhere in this vast maze.

She must look for Lord Cauldreigh’s chamber, not merely
stalk the hallways passing closed doors. She opened the next door and peered
in. She made out the shape of a huge table in the darkness. A billiard table
perhaps. Not a bedchamber. Closing the door, she continued. She peeked in
several other rooms, none of which contained beds. She needed to find stairs
to the next floor.