Rapture Becomes Her (22 page)
Read Rapture Becomes Her Online
Authors: Shirlee Busbee
Emily’s protestations hissed into Cornelia’s ear as they hurried through the house toward Emily’s bedroom made absolutely no impact. Reaching her bedroom, the door slammed shut behind them, Emily growled, “For the last time, I am not going to be hustled off to Windmere like a trussed-up chicken going to market.” Arms crossed over her chest, she said childishly, “And you can’t make me go.”
Cornelia rounded angrily on her and, shaking a bony finger in Emily’s face, she said grimly, “Girl, if I have to hit you over the head or truss you up
exactly
like a hen for market, I damn well will! And if you think Walker and the rest of the servants won’t help me, you’re sillier than I thought.” She caught her breath and said more gently, “Emily, it is the only way you will be safe from Ainsworth and that wretched cousin of yours. You might think that his dislike of you will keep Ainsworth away, but that’s folly. He wants that fortune and you have to get it through your head that he will do anything to get it—even marry a woman he detests.”
exactly
like a hen for market, I damn well will! And if you think Walker and the rest of the servants won’t help me, you’re sillier than I thought.” She caught her breath and said more gently, “Emily, it is the only way you will be safe from Ainsworth and that wretched cousin of yours. You might think that his dislike of you will keep Ainsworth away, but that’s folly. He wants that fortune and you have to get it through your head that he will do anything to get it—even marry a woman he detests.”
Shaken by Cornelia’s vehemence, Emily’s resistance crumbled. Unhappily, she admitted that her beloved great-aunt obviously believed that she was in danger, and if for no other reason than to ease Cornelia’s fears, she should accept Lord Joslyn’s offer of refuge. “Very well,” Emily said in a low voice. “We’ll go.”
More relieved than she cared to admit, Cornelia said, “We have no time to pack very much. Just take what you will need for a few days. The rest of our things can follow later.”
“If Jeffery doesn’t burn them in a rage,” Emily said drily. Despite having accepted that they would go to Windmere, she couldn’t help asking, “You really believe that Ainsworth would take me as a substitute for Anne?”
Cornelia nodded. “He wants that fortune—at any cost. We are lucky that Anne is on her way to Parkham and that Ainsworth and Jeffery are unaware of it. It will be even better if
we
are gone before they return. For once we can be happy that Jeffery is in Newhaven squandering money he doesn’t have on a horse he doesn’t need.”
we
are gone before they return. For once we can be happy that Jeffery is in Newhaven squandering money he doesn’t have on a horse he doesn’t need.”
Jeffery and Ainsworth were
not
in Newhaven and there never was any horse. The trip to Newhaven had been a ruse to disguise their real destination—the farmhouse where Jeffery met his mistresses. The two men were spending that day seeing that all was in readiness for Anne’s abduction and ravishment. Unfortunately, the news that Anne had slipped from their grasp had already come to their ears. . . .
not
in Newhaven and there never was any horse. The trip to Newhaven had been a ruse to disguise their real destination—the farmhouse where Jeffery met his mistresses. The two men were spending that day seeing that all was in readiness for Anne’s abduction and ravishment. Unfortunately, the news that Anne had slipped from their grasp had already come to their ears. . . .
Chapter 12
I
t was simple happenstance that Jeffery and Ainsworth learned of Anne’s departure for Parkham House. As she did frequently, Rosie Perrin, Sally’s sister, visited at The Birches that Thursday afternoon. Seated at Mrs. Spalding’s scrubbed table in the kitchen, drinking tea and laughing and chatting with Sally and the others, Rosie heard in passing that Mrs. Anne Townsend had left that morning to stay for several weeks at Parkham House.
t was simple happenstance that Jeffery and Ainsworth learned of Anne’s departure for Parkham House. As she did frequently, Rosie Perrin, Sally’s sister, visited at The Birches that Thursday afternoon. Seated at Mrs. Spalding’s scrubbed table in the kitchen, drinking tea and laughing and chatting with Sally and the others, Rosie heard in passing that Mrs. Anne Townsend had left that morning to stay for several weeks at Parkham House.
Returning to the village in the late afternoon, she stopped at The Ram’s Head to see if she was needed for work that evening. She wasn’t, but she spied Kelsey sitting at a small table in the corner and joined him.
The two of them talked desultorily for several minutes before Rosie mentioned her visit to The Birches and the news that Mrs. Anne Townsend had gone to stay with the squire’s mother at Parkham House. Kelsey immediately perked up and wondered how best to use the information Rosie had so innocently passed on to him.
While not privy to the plans of the squire and Ainsworth, he was aware that the two men were up to no good and that whatever they were scheming to do involved Anne Townsend. Knowing of the fortune in the offing for Ainsworth once he had secured a respectable bride, and being of a like mind, Kelsey had long ago guessed the method Ainsworth would use to gain the hand of a woman who spurned his suit.
A natural-born snoop, Kelsey had known for months about the farmhouse used for Jeffery’s assignations. Since his dismissal, with scant money, except the pittance Jeffery passed him now and then, he had broken into the place and had been sleeping in one of the bedrooms. This morning he’d been startled awake by the arrival of Jeffery and Ainsworth and had barely managed to escape undetected out of the bedroom window at the side of the house. Finding the horses concealed in the stables and noting the saddlebags bulging with wine and foodstuff and other items, Kelsey had chosen a hiding place nearby and hung around watching. Clearly they were preparing to use the house and he didn’t think that it would be Jeffery meeting a willing wench for a night of frolic. Ainsworth’s presence was particularly telling.
After Rosie left the tavern, Kelsey sat back and considered what he knew and how best to use it. It was a good bet that the squire and Ainsworth had no idea that Anne Townsend had slipped away and he wondered how grateful they’d be to learn of her departure. Only one way to find out, he decided, rising to his feet.
Neither Jeffery nor Ainsworth was happy when Kelsey strolled into the old kitchen at the farmhouse some time later. Kelsey observed that little had been done in the kitchen, but there were now several bottles of wine set out and food and plates, utensils and glasses scattered across the dusty table against the far wall. The bedroom, he thought with a tingle in his privates, was most likely to reveal the majority of their efforts, such as clean sheets on the well-worn mattress; Ainsworth was fussy that way.
“What are you doing here?” demanded Jeffery. “I told you to lay low and that I’d see that all was right with you as soon as I could.”
Kelsey shot him a look of dislike. “And in the meantime, I’m reduced to damn near beggary. I’m tired of waiting! I want some money and I’ve discovered something that should fill these hands with gold.” Glancing at the items on the table, he smiled nastily and added, “Especially, if all these preparations are in anticipation of the arrival of the young Mrs. Townsend.”
Jeffery stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“Why, only that I have news that you might like to hear . . . for a price.”
His eyes cold and considering, Ainsworth asked, “And what makes you think that we are interested in the activities of Mrs. Townsend?”
“Do you take me for a fool?” Kelsey snarled. “The lady doesn’t want to marry you, but you need a bride and there’s only one sure way of gaining her consent—if you have a stomach strong enough for it.”
Ainsworth studied his fingernails. “Suppose you are right,” he drawled. “Why do you think what you know will help us?”
Kelsey grinned, showing yellowed and missing teeth. “Because I can save you wasted effort.”
“How?” asked Jeffery.
“Pay me and you’ll find out.”
Ainsworth studied Kelsey for a long minute and then, reaching into his vest pocket, he extracted a gold coin. He tossed it at Kelsey who caught it in one smooth movement. “If what you have to say is valuable,” Ainsworth said, “you can keep that, but if it is not . . .”
“It’s worth it,” Kelsey said, the coin disappearing under his clothing. Only after he had hidden the gold away did it occur to Kelsey that Miss Emily, or that old witch, Mrs. Cornelia, might have been willing to pay much more to know about Jeffery and Ainsworth’s activities at the farmhouse. He brightened, realizing that there was nothing to stop him from leaving here and taking his chances with the ladies. . . .
“I’m still waiting to learn if I get good value for my money,” said Ainsworth impatiently, walking toward the old stone fireplace. Stopping just a few paces from Kelsey, he asked, “What do you know?”
Kelsey repeated what he’d learned from Rosie, enjoying the consternation and dismay that flooded Jeffery’s face. Ainsworth’s expression revealed nothing.
“Good God!” burst out Jeffery despairingly. “What are we to do? If they left this morning, we have no chance of overtaking them.”
“And I wouldn’t even try if they left only minutes ago,” snapped Ainsworth. “Not unless you want to put a bullet through your brother’s heart and attempt an abduction in broad daylight on a public road.”
No longer interested in Ainsworth and Jeffery now that he had some money, and eager to reach The Birches, Kelsey said, “Think I’ll be on my way.”
“Wait!” said Ainsworth. “You’ve earned this.” He tossed another coin in Kelsey’s direction, deliberately miscalculating the distance. The coin fell and danced across the worn stone floor. Kelsey bent to pick up the coin and Ainsworth moved with the speed of a viper, snatching up a hefty piece of firewood from the neat stack on the hearth and swinging it down viciously on the back of Kelsey’s head.
Kelsey fell facedown without a sound. Ignoring Jeffery’s horrified gasp, Ainsworth kicked Kelsey over onto his back. Kelsey was still breathing and Ainsworth bent over and coolly and methodically hit him several more times with the heavy piece of wood. Only when Kelsey was dead, did Ainsworth straighten and toss the wood onto the hearth.
Jeffery took one look at what had once been Kelsey’s face and his stomach lurched. He ran out of the kitchen, barely making it outside before he was violently ill. Only when he was certain his stomach was empty did he return inside. Wiping his mouth and keeping his eyes averted from Kelsey’s body, he asked in shaken tones, “Was that necessary?”
“Yes,” replied Ainsworth, not even breathing hard after his exertions. “I wasn’t willing to run the risk that he wouldn’t run to your cousin and great-aunt with news of our activities.” Prodding the body with the toe of his boot, he said maliciously, “I’ll leave it to you to dispose of the body.”
Jeffery opened his mouth to protest, but the look on Ainsworth’s face stopped him. Swallowing his gorge he approached Kelsey’s body and, gingerly taking hold of one arm, began to the pull the body from the room. Kelsey hadn’t been a big man, but he was deadweight and it was several minutes before Jeffery had the body out of the house and hidden beneath some brush behind the stables.
Returning to the kitchen, still pale and shaken, he found Ainsworth sitting in one of the rickety wooden chairs, sipping a glass of wine from one of the bottles they’d brought with them.
Helping himself to a glass, Jeffery tossed it off in one swallow. “What are we to do now? All is lost.”
Ainsworth flashed him a contemptuous glance. “No, all is not lost.” His eyes went dark with fury. “She will not be the bride I wanted, but I’m afraid that your cousin, Emily, will just have to do.”
Jeffery gaped at him. “You’re mad if you think you can force Emily to do anything.”
“She will fear ruin,” Ainsworth said carelessly, “as much as the next woman.”
Jeffery looked doubtful. “That may be, but she’s going to make you an intolerable wife.”
Ainsworth looked at him and Jeffery was chilled at what he saw in Ainsworth’s eyes. “She only has to live,” Ainsworth said softly, “long enough for me to gain my fortune. After that . . .” He took a sip of his wine and smiled. “After that, I fear my bride will suffer a fatal accident.”
Jeffery’s eyes dropped. He wasn’t, he told himself a
bad
man, and if it hadn’t been for some unfortunate losses at the gaming tables, the majority to Ainsworth, he wouldn’t have found himself in this situation. He had been perfectly willing to help Ainsworth marry Anne, but Kelsey’s death wasn’t something he would ever have condoned—if his opinion had been asked. Jeffery wasn’t fond of Emily, but he retained enough family loyalty to be unhappy contemplating her cold-blooded murder. Staring into his empty glass, he wished miserably he’d never agreed to Ainsworth’s terms and that he’d never invited the man to The Birches.
bad
man, and if it hadn’t been for some unfortunate losses at the gaming tables, the majority to Ainsworth, he wouldn’t have found himself in this situation. He had been perfectly willing to help Ainsworth marry Anne, but Kelsey’s death wasn’t something he would ever have condoned—if his opinion had been asked. Jeffery wasn’t fond of Emily, but he retained enough family loyalty to be unhappy contemplating her cold-blooded murder. Staring into his empty glass, he wished miserably he’d never agreed to Ainsworth’s terms and that he’d never invited the man to The Birches.
Aware that Jeffery was having second thoughts, Ainsworth said, “We only have to change our plans slightly. I don’t want to waste any more time.” He looked thoughtful. “In fact, I think we should quietly return to your house and spy out the lay of the land. It’s possible that luck will be on our side and we can snatch your cousin without anyone ever realizing we have even been on the grounds.” He smiled. “She’ll just disappear . . . and later reappear as my bride.” Jeffery didn’t appear enthusiastic and, guessing that the murder of Kelsey had disturbed him, Ainsworth said with suspect sincerity, “I know what happened was a shock to you. . . . I’m sorry about Kelsey’s death, but the fewer people that know about our being here, the better. With Kelsey, er, gone, we two are the only ones who know we have been here, and I’d just as soon keep it that way.”
Ainsworth was wrong. Someone else knew that they were at the farmhouse—Sam Gates and his good friend, the cobbler’s son, Billy Ford. The two boys, when able to escape from the parental eye, trampled at will through the countryside, and the stables at the abandoned farmhouse was a favorite place of theirs to hunt rats with Billy’s small terrier, Tiger. About midday when they’d slipped into the stables with the eager dog, they’d been astonished to find a pair of horses standing tied in the alleyway in the center of the building. Sam recognized the squire’s horse, an elegant bay gelding with one white hind foot: his father had replaced a thrown shoe only a few days ago. A complete set of new shoes had been put on Ainsworth’s dappled gray gelding the same day, so Sam had no trouble identifying the second horse.
Hearing the squire and Ainsworth’s voices approaching, Sam and Billy grabbed Tiger and the two boys and dog scooted out the back of the stables through a loose board. The presence of the squire and his friend at the abandoned farmstead was notable and of a curious nature. Sam and Billy tied the dog a short distance away and returned to watch the two men. From their hiding place in a small patch of woods off to the side of the barn, the boys observed the squire and Ainsworth making several trips from the stables to the house carrying various items. After a while the boys grew bored and wandered back to the dog, deciding to ask the vicar if he would let them hunt in his stables. There wouldn’t be as much sport since the vicar kept a half-dozen or so cats around the place, but they might be able to find an unwary rat or two.
It was late in the day by the time Sam made his way to The Crown where he knew that at this hour he would find his father enjoying a well-deserved tankard of ale. Entering the inn, he found his father sitting at a table with Jeb Brown and Mrs. Gilbert. At Sam’s approach, knowing growing boys, Mrs. Gilbert smiled and said, “Go into the kitchen and have Flora or one of the girls fix you a sandwich.”
Grinning, he said, “Thank you—I’m fair starved to death,” and disappeared into the back of the inn. He reappeared several minutes later with crumbs on his chin and an impressive milk mustache framing his mouth, indicating he’d been fed well. As was his wont he sidled onto the remaining empty chair and half-dozing listened to the conversation of the adults.
Sam was almost asleep but he jerked wide-awake when Mrs. Gilbert said, “There’s no telling what the squire and that unpleasant friend of his are capable of doing. At least we don’t have to worry about them right now—when I saw Walker in the village yesterday, he mentioned that they were going to Newhaven today.”
“But they didn’t go to Newhaven,” Sam said innocently. Three pairs of narrowed adult eyes swiveled in his direction. He swallowed and muttered, “Well, at least, they weren’t there this afternoon. Me and Billy saw them out at the old Godart place earlier today.” “And what were you doing at the Godart place?” Caleb asked in a tone that told Sam he’d better have a good reason for having been at the deserted farmstead.
Earnestly, Sam said, “We were only going to hunt rats in the barn with Billy’s dog.”
Caleb grunted and Sam breathed easier.
“When did you see them?” asked Mrs. Gilbert, frowning. Sam hunched a shoulder. “Don’t know the time, but it was this afternoon—Billy had to work for his da until nearly noon and it was after that.”
“That place has been standing empty for years,” observed Jeb. “Can’t imagine it would hold any interest for the squire and his friend. What were they doing?”
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