The Duke's Dilemma (22 page)

Calling her name out loud did the trick; the
dog put his nose to the floor and raced ahead of him and into the sitting room.

‘Robin, with me, she must be in here. Perhaps
she’s unwell and unable to answer us.’

He burst into the sitting-room, calling again.
Again no answer. The dog had vanished, his bedchamber door was open. But she
couldn’t be in there, he’d looked under the bed, looked in the closets, surely
he hadn’t missed her? There was no cranny large enough for a full grown woman
to hide.
 
As he reached the dressing room
Jet began to howl – the hairs on the back of his neck stood up at the mournful
sound. It was the bay of an animal grieving for its owner. Please God, not now,
not when it was over. How could he live without his darling girl?

The dog was sitting by the closet door, his
muzzle pointed skywards, sounding like a wolf. ‘Enough, Jet. Silence. Are you
telling me she’s in there ?’ He began to fling out the clothes, his jackets
disregarded without a thought. ‘Robin, bring a candlestick. If the dog says
she’s in here, then she must be. But God knows where, the closet’s empty.’

He walked in, crouching down, the candle in
front of him; at first he couldn’t see where she might be hiding but then he
spied a narrow space running behind the shelves. My God! Was she squashed in
there?

‘Robin, I’ve found her. We have to move the
shelves and do it fast.’

He pushed the candle into the crevice and at
the far end he could see a crumpled shape. ‘My love, Hester, speak to me.’
 
She remained silent. He didn’t know if she
was alive. Handing the candle to Robin he swung round, gripping the rear of the
shelves with both hands, then threw himself backwards. They didn’t move. He was
about to try again when Robin tapped him on the shoulder.

‘We’ll not do it that way, your grace. We have
to work from the front; I helped the carpenter install something similar in
your rooms. I know how they fit together.’

Ralph backed out from the closet and jumped to
the front of the shelves. Not bothering to remove the neat piles of
undergarments and shirts he took hold of the wood and with Robin gripping the
other side, heaved with all his strength. There was some movement. Two further
massive pulls and the nails tore from the floor and in a tumble of splintering
wood and folded clothes he fell over.

The dust swirled around him. He ignored it and
scrambled out from under the debris to step inside the ruined closet. As the
shelves had crashed forward she had toppled to the floor. Reaching down to grip
her under the arms, he lifted her gently. He threw her over his shoulder and
backed into the dressing-room and out to his bedchamber.

He carried her over to the huge bed and placed
her on it, putting his ear to her lips; he believed there was warmth on his
face but wasn’t sure. His fingers rested under her jaw and ran back to the
juncture of her neck. Yes, definitely a faint fluttering. She was breathing,
but barely. Ineffectually chafing her limp hands between his he called her name
in vain.

Then the fog cleared from his brain. She had
been deprived of air, if he could refill her lungs then maybe that would
restore her.

‘Get the shutters back, open the window, we
need fresh air in here, Robin.’ He looked down; was it possible for him to
expedite the process? A quack had blown his own breath into the mouth of a man
who’d been fished out of a lake. The result had been miraculous –,perhaps this
would work with Hester.

 
What had
the doctor done exactly? He couldn’t remember the precise procedure but matters
could hardly be made worse. He knelt on the edge of the bed and filling his
lungs he covered her nose with one hand and pulled her chin down with the
other. Then he placed in a his lips over hers in order to expel his breath into
her open mouth. Lifting his head he repeated the process.

A sudden blast of freezing air shook the bed
hangings. Gulping in a third lung full of this fresh air he bent down to place
his mouth over hers for a final time. Her mouth felt less cold. Was his strange
approach working?

He bent down and scooped her up in his arms.
‘I’m going to take her over to the window, it might revive her.’

Robin held on to the open shutters to prevent
them banging in the gale that had developed during the morning. He looked down;
to his astonishment and wonder a pair of hazel eyes stared back at him.

‘My darling, thank God, thank God. I thought
I’d lost you.’

‘I’m more likely to die of cold, than anything
else if you persist in holding me in front of an open window, my love.’ Her
voice was no more than a whisper, but her tone was light showing she’d suffered
no damage to her mind after her near suffocation in the closet.

‘Shut the window, Robin.’ He was reluctant to
release her, wanted to crush her to his chest and smother her with kisses, tell
her that his life would also have ended if she had perished. Instead he placed
her carefully on her feet, keeping his arm around her shoulders in case her
knees were weak.

‘Whatever possessed you to squeeze in behind
those shelves? If I hadn’t found you when I did …’

‘There’s no need to say it, I know. In fact, I
knew immediately I’d made a dreadful mistake. I was terrified, but had to hide
until you came back. That was the only place I could find.’

She leant against him, resting her face on his
chest. Robin left the room giving them some privacy. ‘It’s cold in here,
sweetheart, let’s return to the kitchen; you’ll soon be warm down there.’

‘Ralph, tell me, is everything well downstairs?
It wasn’t cowardice that made me run away when I heard them coming in. They’d
come to murder me. I believed if I remained free the others would be safer. The
men would be more concerned with finding me than harming them.’

He hesitated, should he tell her what had
transpired or wait until she was fully recovered? ‘I’ve grave news for you, my
love, poor little Meg was killed and your dearest friend, Miss Bird, was
knocked out. I intend to send Robin at once to fetch the physician now that
everything else has been settled.’

Chapter Twenty-two

Meg killed? How could that have happened? This
was all her fault, if these monsters hadn’t been seeking her out the poor girl
would be alive still. Birdie, her dearest friend, injured – it was too much to
bear. ‘I must go to her at once. My chest feels a little sore, but apart from
that and a slight headache, I’m fully recovered.’

She wriggled out of his restraint, almost
running along the passageway; taking the back stairs would be a quicker option
but it would mean searching for a candlestick.

‘I take it you discovered who was behind the
attacks?’ she asked him, as she hurried down the stairs.

‘The man refused to give his real name and I
didn’t dare wait to discover it. I knew you were in danger.’

‘What did you do with him?’ She prayed he
hadn’t killed him, she hated to think of the people who had died over the past
few days.

‘I overpowered him; he’s tied up and locked in
a cupboard. I’ll leave the magistrate to discover his identity. My main concern
is to take care of you and Miss Bird.’

Hester didn’t go into
the kitchen, she ran straight past and up the stairs that led to the rooms
she’d been sharing with Birdie. Her friend was lying quietly, eyes closed, her
slight form barely making a shape under the coverlets.

‘Polly, how is she? Has she shown any signs of
waking?’

‘Miss Bird’s much warmer, Miss Frobisher, and
her breathing steady enough; I reckon the bang on her head gave her a bit of a
concussion. She’ll be as right as rain by tomorrow, you mark my words.’

‘I’ll take over here, Polly. You go to your
room and change. Then go to the kitchen and find yourself something to eat and
drink. Without Miss Bird to organize matters we shall have to rely on Tom. His
baking’s appalling but he can put the kettle on well enough.’

Her attempt at
humour
had the desired effect and the girl’s face lightened. ‘Thank you, miss, I
should be right glad to remove these dirty clothes, it was that filthy in the
root cellar, I can tell you. Would it be in order if I borrowed …?’ The girl’s
eyes filled.

 
‘Yes, of
course. Meg has no need of her belongings now. Lord Colebrook will make sure
her parents are recompensed for their daughter’s sad demise. I’m sure they’ll
not need her garments returned immediately.’

Polly curtsied, leaving her alone with the
person she loved most in the world apart from her darling Ralph. The room was
warm, the fire huge and the curtains closed. She straightened the covers,
checking for herself that Birdie was breathing and then then pulled a small
padded armchair to the bed.

How strange to sit in a room with the curtains
drawn when it was scarcely
noon
!
She walked briskly to the windows and threw back the heavy material, pulling
open the shutters with a bang. She refused to sit in darkness as if her friend
was already in Heaven. The fire was sufficient and the small window, halfway up
the outer wall, didn’t let in draughts.

She could see only the kitchen gardens and
beyond to the woods from her vantage point. What a depressing view when the
skies were heavy with unshed rain and the sun hidden firmly behind the clouds.
She returned to her vigil, praying for her friend, hoping that somehow good
could come out of the evil that had been done that day.

*

Ralph returned to collect his boots only to
discover they had vanished. Where the hell were they? He wasn’t in the mood for
practical jokes. He twitched the curtains away to check a second time but they
were still missing. He straightened, frowning out of the window.

Good God! His eyes widened as he stared across
the park to the long
gravelled
drive

Like a circus parade, headed by the scarlet
uniforms of a company of militia, followed a large coach and two small closed
carriages, whilst bringing up the rear some half a mile distant were a small
body of townsfolk, parcels and bags under their arms. The missing servants were
returning.

His laughter rang around the room. Who the
occupants of the carriages might be he had no inkling but unless he found his
boots he would have to greet them, and the commander of the militia, in his
stockings.

*

Hester heard a commotion outside the door and
Polly burst in her face smiling and her ruined gown replaced by a clean blue
dress and pristine apron and cap.

‘Miss Frobisher, Tom was about to go to town
when his grace appeared looking for his boots and saying the militia are
coming, plus three carriages and the staff that left last week.’

Hester smiled. She’d quite forgotten about the
notes she’d sent with the lawyers in all the excitement. ‘The duke has lost his
boots? Do you know, I hadn’t noticed he was without them when he was here
earlier.’

Polly giggled. ‘They weren’t lost really, miss,
his man had taken them downstairs to give them a clean. They’ve been restored
to him now. I’ve brought you some coffee and what’s left of the plum cake. His
grace insisted you have something to eat and drink.’

‘Thank you, but I’m not hungry, but the coffee
is exactly what I need. Go back, Polly, and tell Seth and Robert to start
lighting fires in the main part of the house and the apartments. We must
transfer back there later today.’
 
She
smiled fondly at her friend so worryingly still in the bed. ‘And as soon as
Miss Bird’s recovered she shall move into the chambers next to mine. Her days
of acting as housekeeper and cook are done with. She’s all I have in the world,
and I shall not let her work for her living ever again.’

‘Miss Bird’s a lady and should not be obliged
to live in the servants’ quarters as if she was something else.’

‘Quite right, Polly. From now on she’s one of
the family.’

Hester drank the coffee, the bitter taste
reviving her wonderfully. She hoped the doctor would be in one of the carriages
Polly had mentioned, but she feared the other would contain the vicar. Whatever
would the reverend gentleman make of the chaos that was Neddingfield at the
moment?

Twenty minutes later there was a soft tap at
the door and an unfamiliar maid servant came in and curtsied. ‘Begging your
pardon, Miss Sinclair, but I’ve the doctor here to see Miss Bird.’

‘Excellent, please show him in, I have been
expecting him.’

Dr
Radcliff smiled at her. ‘Good morning, Miss
Sinclair, I have come to examine your patient. This is a nasty business all
round, but at least I can see you are now fully recovered from your accident
two weeks ago.’

She looked at him blankly. Was it so little
time since all this started? It seemed like a lifetime as so much had happened.
‘Miss Bird has a steady pulse, but I’m worried as she hasn’t regained
consciousness.’ She went to wait by the window, leaving the physician to do his
job. After a remarkably brief time the man straightened and turned to her, a
broad smile on his face.

‘Has Miss Bird been overtaxing herself lately?’
Puzzled, she nodded. ‘In that case it explains what’s going on here; She’s
deeply asleep whilst her body mends itself. She must have been exhausted by
whatever has been going on here and the bang on the head has merely pushed her
body into a deep restorative slumber.’

‘She’s not concussed?’

‘No, Miss Frobisher, your companion’s asleep. I
advise you leave her to her slumbers whilst I go and examine the second
patient, the young man with a bullet through his shoulder.’

‘Thank you, I’ll go down with the good news.’
Outside the new maid was waiting anxiously. ‘

‘Excuse me, miss, I’m to conduct the doctor to
James now.’

Hester nodded. She caught a glimpse of her
dishevelled
appearance in the over-mantel
mirror and paused, horrified. Her hair was in disarray, half up, half down, her
face besmirched, and what had been a dismal gown was now a total disaster. She
couldn’t possibly meet the vicar looking as she did but all her belongings were
in the cupboard where Birdie slept. She wouldn’t go back in there and disturb
her friend.

There was another set of footsteps on the
stairs and looked round to see our own abigail, Jane. ‘Good heavens! What are
you doing here?’

The girl curtsied. ‘We were held up by the
snow, miss, but as soon as it cleared Bill set off and here we are. Not a
moment too soon neither. I’ve had your trunks taken to your rooms. There will
be something amongst them that’s not too creased so you can change before going
downstairs.’

She smiled. ‘I’m sure whatever you find will be
better than what I have on at present.’

*

Ralph was in the drawing-room, the fire doing
little to dispel the damp and cold that had accumulated whilst the room had
been disused. His boots restored, his jacket brushed and the worst of the mud
sponged from his breeches, he looked every inch the lord of the manor.

 
He had
been shocked, but delighted, to discover the occupant of the second carriage
was
Mr
Blunt, the vicar of Little Neddingfield.
Hester had been busy in his absence – he still had no idea how she had sent the
notes and could hardly ask the gentleman perched nervously on the edge of his
seat. No, he would have to contain his impatience until she arrived. The larger
carriage, he should have known, belonged to Hester.

He’d left Robin and Tom to deal with the young
lieutenant; he had no further interest in the matter. His mind was firmly fixed
on marrying his beloved as speedily as possible.

He turned and his heart caught in his throat.
Standing in the doorway was a young woman he scarcely recognized. Her hair was
piled in a glorious golden coronet, her eyes huge in her oval face and she was
wearing a ravishing, high-
waisted
gown in gold and
green, that exactly matched her eyes. She looked enchanting and she was all
his.

‘Lord Colebrook,
Mr
Blunt, I sincerely apologize for keeping you waiting. It’s so kind of you to
come with such alacrity. No doubt his grace has explained the urgency?’

Ralph blinked. Good God! Surely she was not
alluding to their pre-empting the marriage service? If not, then he was as much
in the dark as Blunt.

Blunt bowed deeply, obviously impressed. ‘No,
Miss Frobisher, we have waited for you before discussing anything.’

‘Please be seated, both of you, shall I begin?’

Ralph listened with incredulity as she
explained, mainly for his benefit, that their Aunt Agatha had moved to live on
the Continent and left her English estates jointly to them. Hester explained
that until they were united as man and wife the estates would languish
untended, as neither of them would be in the position to move matters
forward.
 
He hid his smile, she was
talking total fustian, but Blunt seemed convinced.

‘Of course, your grace, Miss Frobisher. If you
would kindly supply me with the necessary details, I shall expedite matters at
once. As you have both been in residence here already for two weeks, there’s no
difficulty on that score. Will be first week in December be suitable?’

‘Perfectly, Blunt. My man and Miss Frobisher’s can
supply you with the information you need.’ He stood and bowed formally; the man
took his cue, scrambling to his feet.

All the ‘Good morning, your grace, madam, I
shall look forward to conducting your wedding ceremony in three weeks’ time.’

A
parlourmaid
curtsied and ushered the vicar out. Ralph followed him carefully closing the
door before holding out his arms.

‘Ralph, we must not.
They are still things we don’t know, loose ends to tie.’

Reluctantly he nodded;
she was right, until the militia removed the prisoner from the secret passage,
the corpses from the outbuildings, and he had discovered the identity of the
man behind the attacks, they couldn’t relax.

‘I suppose you wish me
to ride with the militia when they go?’

‘I do, my love. There
are so many things I don’t understand. How did this man know so much about
Neddingfield and Aunt Agatha’s affairs?’

‘Can’t it wait until
tomorrow? I can think of far better things to do ...’

‘Enough, your grace.
What happened last night will not take place again until we are wed.’

He grinned and kissed
her gently. ‘We shall discuss that later when I return.’

He could hear her
laughing as he strode off to find the officer leading the troops. Robin told
him the young man was waiting for him in the study eager to impart some news.

Ralph nodded to the
officer. ‘Your grace, Captain Carstairs found the perpetrator of this nasty
business gibbering in a broom cupboard. The man’s name is Bertram Sinclair, his
father, also Bertram, was a remote connection, a cousin of your aunt’s. It
appears he gained his knowledge of Neddingfield Hall from his father , whose
grandfather lived here years ago. By your demise he believed he stood next in
line.’