The Secret Kiss of Darkness (26 page)

‘Oh hell,’ she muttered, but there was no turning back now.

The sound of the sea had been steadily growing in strength for quite a while when Kayla finally came round a large clump of gorse bushes and spotted an old, crumbling building. It looked like some kind of large gazebo, with windows towards the sea and a little verandah facing inland. Could it be Jago’s trysting place? He’d told her he often met up with Eliza in a summer house by the coast. This must be it. The thought made Kayla swallow hard as she remembered how their love ended, but then she pulled herself together. She had more important things to think about right now.

She stopped and crouched behind the bushes for a moment, just to be on the safe side. There were no sounds and nobody in sight. After scanning the surrounding area one more time, Kayla sprinted across to the summer house and peered inside. It was fairly dim in there and it took a while before her eyes adjusted to the darkness, but then she gasped. The small, pathetic figure of Nell was sitting slumped against an old bench, wrapped in her blanket and with her eyes closed. For a heart-stopping moment Kayla thought she was hurt, or even worse, but then she saw the child was just asleep.

She tiptoed over and knelt next to her on the rotting floor planks. She put the teddy bear, which she was still carrying, down and felt inside the blanket to make sure the little girl was breathing. The small chest rose and fell with comforting regularity.

‘Oh, sweetheart,’ Kayla murmured and caressed Nell’s hair. ‘What are you doing here?’ Nell stirred and opened sleepy eyes that seemed unfocused.

She’d been drugged, Kayla realised. Sleeping pills perhaps? She hoped it wasn’t anything worse.

‘Kayla.’

‘Sshhh.’ Kayla put a finger over her lips and looked around. There were boxes and bags stacked around the walls and on top of some of the benches. This meant there must be people nearby. People who were presumably up to no good and might hurt Nell. But who? Surely all this stuff couldn’t belong to Caroline?

Nell muttered something unintelligible and Kayla shushed her again and whispered, ‘You have to be quiet so I can get you out of here.’ To distract the little girl she held up her teddy bear. ‘Look, I’ve brought you Alfie. You must have dropped him and he didn’t want to be left behind.’ Nell took the bear with a sleepy smile and Kayla bent towards her and held out a hand to help her to her feet.

‘Can you stand up? Walk? Or do you want me to carry you?’

Suddenly Nell’s eyes became more focused. She blinked and then cried out, ‘No, Mummy. Noooo!’

Kayla looked up in surprise, but before she could turn around something hard struck the back of her head and the world disappeared in a flash of stars.

Wes went for a leisurely swim, enjoying the gentle exercise. Kayla was right, he didn’t really need it right now, but it was relaxing. And he hadn’t entirely been joking – he’d need to stay in shape if he was going to keep up with a girlfriend – partner? – who was ten years younger. He smiled to himself. He’d managed to tire her out completely last night though, but he wanted to be able do it all over again come evening. He still couldn’t quite believe that she was finally his, but he’d make damn sure she never wanted to leave now.

With a sigh he pulled himself out of the pool and stretched, before making his way up the stairs to his room. He wondered idly what Nell and Annie were doing. It had been kind of the housekeeper to take care of his little girl. Annie would normally always ask before doing anything like that. In fact, he couldn’t recall her ever writing him a note before, but she knew Wes and Kayla had been to a party, so she must have figured out that they would sleep late and tried not to disturb them. Just as well. He wanted to spend what was left of today only with Kayla.

He entered his room and found all Kayla’s clothes gone. He noticed the connecting door standing open, and walked over to it calling her name, while listening for sounds of the shower. Was she still washing her hair or something?

‘Kayla? Kayla, are you there?’

There was no reply and he strolled into her room and looked around. A faint smell of shampoo mixed with perfume came from the direction of the bathroom, but when Wes peered in there, it too was empty. He turned around and saw the clothes she had worn the night before lying in a pile on the floor next to the wardrobe, and its door standing ajar. He figured she must have dressed and left already, and he had just missed her. But where had she gone?

‘Damn,’ he muttered. He had hoped to catch her still in a state of undress, but she must have headed downstairs again via a different staircase.

On his way out of the room he passed the wardrobe and became aware of a cold draught snaking its way up his naked chest. That was odd. He stopped and looked around again. The window was closed, so where was the air coming from? Another draught slithered round his ankles and it seemed to be coming from the wardrobe, so he stuck his head inside it and drew in a sharp breath when he found the cause. The back panel was wide open and he could see a flight of stairs leading downwards.

‘Jesus,’ he breathed. ‘Bloody hell!’ He hadn’t really believed Kayla’s stories of a nightly intruder, but now … ‘Oh, Kayla, I shouldn’t have doubted you.’

He’d also never believed the tales of a secret entrance or priest’s hole somewhere in the house. His father had told him there was supposed to be one, but knowledge of its exact location had been lost when a previous Marcombe died rather suddenly before passing on the information. It would seem that someone had found it. Who?

A terrible fear gripped him, but he managed to stop himself from rushing down those stairs. ‘Think,’ he told himself. What could have happened? Had Kayla just found the door and decided to investigate on the spur of the moment, or had someone forced her to go through it? No, she would have come to tell him about it unless she’d had a very good reason not to. Such as being coerced. But why would anyone want to harm Kayla? It didn’t make sense, but a picture of her room with its contents shredded rose up in his mind.

‘Think rationally, man.’ He closed his eyes and concentrated. What did he need? Hurrying back to his own room, he pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of trainers. He was already wearing tracksuit bottoms. Then he grabbed a torch from his bedside table and a baseball bat, which he kept handy in case of intruders. Not that he’d ever needed it before. It had only been a precaution.

He switched on the torch and took the stairs behind the wardrobe at a run, but when he reached the bottom he found that he had two choices – either continue down another set of stairs, which presumably led to the cellars, or go out via a door set into the thick wall. He touched the door and noticed it wasn’t quite closed, so he surmised it had been used very recently. Therefore Kayla must have gone that way.

He forced himself to stop and think again. He needed to be careful. If something terrible had happened to Kayla he had to make sure he didn’t make the same mistake or fall into a trap of some sort. Wes shook his head. He would be on his guard, but he had to follow. What other option did he have? Giving up further speculation he pushed open the door and peered at the grass. The path made by several sets of feet was clear to see and as the footsteps went only one way, Wes followed.

A short while later he knew where he was heading. Or he could guess, at least. The old summer house hadn’t been used for years but he and Alex had spent a lot of time playing there as children. Who was using it now though?

A few minutes later he heard voices, and he crawled forward to hide behind some bushes and listen without being seen.

What was going on?

The note arrived out of the blue one afternoon and froze Jago’s insides with sudden terror.

Please come immediately. S.

Had something happened to little Wesley? That didn’t bear thinking about.

Jago left what he was doing and set off at a run, not stopping until he’d barged in through the kitchen door of the Hall and was standing there panting, trying to catch his breath. One of the maids gave a little shriek of fright at his abrupt entry, but he ignored her and fixed his gaze on the cook.

‘What’s happened?’ he demanded. ‘Is the boy ill?’

Wesley was a sturdy six-year-old who’d so far breezed through life in rude health, but Jago knew children caught illnesses easily. It was his greatest fear because it was the one thing he knew he couldn’t protect him against.

The cook shook her head. ‘The little ’un is fine, don’t you fret, my lovely. No, it’s Miss Sophie as needs assistance, I’d say.’

Jago frowned. ‘In what way?’

‘We ’ave a visitor, so we do, and although Miss Sophie’s tried to speak to ’im, ’e won’t listen. ’Igh an’ mighty so-and-so.’ Cook pursed her lips. ‘You’d best go see. They be in the salon, I reckon.’

His breathing under control, Jago went upstairs and knocked on the door to the finest room in the house. It was never normally used and most of the furniture was under Holland covers. As he entered he could see these had been removed however, and he wondered what the occasion was.

‘Ah, Mr Kerswell, there you are.’ Sophie stood up and curtseyed politely, her eyes sending him unmistakeable distress signals. ‘This is Mr Henry Marcombe, cousin of my late brother-in-law.’ Turning back to her guest she finished the introduction. ‘And this is Mr Kerswell, little Wesley’s other guardian, as I was telling you earlier.’

Jago bowed to the gentleman, who gave him the merest nod and looked him up and down with an expression of distaste. Jago knew he probably didn’t show to advantage in his everyday working clothes, but he hadn’t thought to change. He ignored the man’s rudeness and took a seat next to Sophie.

‘Are you visiting these parts then, Mr Marcombe?’ he enquired.

‘No, I’ve come to take charge of young Wesley, as I’ve been telling Miss … er, Wesley.’ He clearly found it irritating that the child had her surname as his Christian name. ‘It’s time he was sent to school and he needs his male relatives to see to his education.’

‘We have already applied for a place,’ Jago informed the man tersely. ‘He’ll be going when he’s ten. He’s to have a tutor until then.’

‘Preposterous! Boys need to start no later than seven. Mollycoddling by females won’t do him any good. I’ve obtained him a place from September onwards and I’ve just been informing Miss Wesley of the arrangements.’

‘I’m sorry to have to disappoint you, Mr Marcombe, but young Wesley isn’t going anywhere without my agreement. I’m his legal guardian and so is Miss Wesley.’

‘If I understand correctly, you’re but an innkeeper, and why my late cousin should see fit to name you in his will is a mystery. I’m sure you’ll appreciate that those of us who are actually related to the boy and move in the same circles as he will be expected to do, know what’s best for him.’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘As I said, that’s because you’re a—’

‘I know what I am, Mr Marcombe, but it doesn’t make me a fool. Besides, you’d need Miss Wesley’s permission as well and I doubt she’ll give it.’ He raised his eyebrows at Sophie, who seemed to take courage from his presence.

‘Certainly not,’ she said.

‘Well now, that’s another thing.’ Mr Marcombe scowled at her. ‘It’s not seemly, you bringing up a boy on your own and living here alone when you’re not even married.’

Sophie raised her chin. ‘There are servants aplenty and besides I … I’m betrothed,’ she stammered, a blush stealing up her throat when Jago flickered a gaze at her, trying to hide his surprise.

‘To whom?’ Mr Marcombe asked rudely, as if no one in their right mind would offer for her.

Her blush deepened. ‘That is none of your business, sir.’

‘Of course it is. I demand to know since it’ll affect the boy’s future.’

Sophie sent Jago a panicked glance that told him she’d been prevaricating. He stood up and went to lean nonchalantly on the mantelpiece. ‘She’s engaged to me, Mr Marcombe,’ he lied. ‘And if you’re now satisfied that all the proprieties have been observed, I would suggest you take your leave. It’s at least an hour to the nearest town and it will be dark soon.’

Mr Marcombe’s florid cheeks turned dark red at this none too subtle hint and he got to his feet. ‘Now see here, Mr Kerswell, you can’t—’

Jago was taller and he took a step forward in his most intimidating manner. ‘No, you see here, Mr Marcombe. The late Sir John’s will was legal in every way and has been proved according to law, which means you have no say in anything. There isn’t a thing you can do about it, is that clear? Now my future wife and I would appreciate it if you’d be on your way.’

Marcombe opened and closed his mouth several times, then thought better of it and stomped out of the room. Jago heard Armitage bidding the man goodbye out in the hall, before slamming the front door shut. He looked at Sophie, whose shoulders seemed to slump, while she closed her eyes and exhaled.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry, but I couldn’t deal with him on my own.’ Tears spilled over and rolled down her cheeks. ‘He’s not the first, you know. There have been other relatives, but I was able to handle them. They all seem to think I shouldn’t be here.’

Jago went over to her and pulled her close, cradling her head so that she’d lean it against his shoulder. ‘Shh, you did the right thing. And you should have told me about the others. You know I’m here to help.’

She was stiff in his arms at first, but when he didn’t let go she relaxed against him for a moment. ‘Thank you, but you don’t need to—’

‘I think I do.’ He looked down at her. ‘Will you do me the honour of marrying me, Sophie? It would probably be the best thing for all of us, if you can bear it. And it might stop any other relatives from visiting unexpectedly.’

He knew it wasn’t the most romantic of proposals, but he could never promise a woman his heart because he’d already given it away. And Sophie was nothing if not practical, as she’d proved over the years.

Sophie looked into his eyes and frowned. ‘It’s not necessary. I’m aware of how you felt about Eliza. Although perhaps a marriage of convenience, a business arrangement on paper only …’

He kissed her cheek. ‘Oh, I think we can do a bit better than a business arrangement. It’s possible to like someone a lot without being head over heels in love, you know. I like you, respect you and I promise to always treat you well. What do you say? Shall we give it a try? It would make life a bit less lonely for both of us.’

She wiped her cheeks and gave him a watery smile. ‘Very well, let’s. And a pox on Mr Marcombe and his ilk.’

Jago laughed and hugged her tight. ‘That’s my girl.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Caro, what are you going to do next? Honestly, you’re nothing but trouble.’ Alex was, if possible, even more furious this time. Did the stupid woman not have an iota of sense?

‘That’s not what you say when we’re in bed, darling,’ Caroline purred, and stroked his arm, but he shook her off impatiently.

‘This isn’t the time for your little games, Caro. Not only are we stuck with Nell now, if you won’t take her back, but you’ve gone and landed us with Kayla. What the hell am I supposed to do with her? Don’t you think she’ll tell the police what she’s seen?’

‘Well, throw her overboard then. We can take the two of them on the boat with us, and you can let me and Nell off in France. As for her,’ Caroline prodded the lifeless form of Kayla with the toe of her boot, ‘just dump her somewhere. Wes can find himself another bimbo.’

Alex opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. There was no point arguing with Caroline, she obviously wasn’t sane at the moment. Her eyes were glassy, the pupils dilated. She’d probably taken some drug or other. Perhaps she’d sampled the goods they were smuggling? If so, she wouldn’t listen to anything he said. Instead he bent to pick up the sobbing little bundle that was his niece.

‘She hit Kayla, Unc-uncle Alex. D-don’t let Mummy do that again, p-please. Now she’s dead. I don’t want her to be dead.’ Nell was inconsolable.

‘No, of course not, princess. Nobody is going to hit anyone again. And Kayla isn’t dead, I promise you. She’s just resting. She’ll be fine. Shhh now, why don’t you sleep for a while too? Then when you wake up, you and Mummy can do something nice together in France.’

‘I don’t want to go to F-france. I want to go home to Daddy,’ the little girl wailed, becoming more and more hysterical by the minute.

‘That’s just great. Now see what you’ve done.’ Alex glared at Caroline, but she held out her arms and took the child from him.

‘Here, let me deal with her. She is my child after all, and I’ll make sure she stays quiet. You go and finish off whatever it was you were doing.’ She turned to Nell. ‘Here, darling, why don’t you have some of that nice drink Mummy gave you earlier? You liked that, didn’t you? And you must be thirsty after all that crying.’

Alex stomped off, swearing foully under his breath. As he reached the verandah Nell’s wails stopped. ‘Good. At least the stupid woman can be of some use then,’ he muttered. But when this was over he never wanted to see her again.

Wes remained motionless listening to this exchange. Neither Caro nor Alex were bothering to keep their voices down, so they obviously didn’t think anyone would find their hiding place.

He ducked down as Alex came storming out of the summer house and set off towards the Hall. It looked as though he was checking whether Kayla had acted alone so at least he had his wits about him. He soon came back, however, and Wes thanked his lucky stars he’d shut the secret entrance carefully. Alex must have thought Wes was still in the house and in the dark as to Kayla’s whereabouts. This was to Wes’s advantage, as otherwise Alex might be spooked into doing something drastic.

He debated what to do next. On the one hand he had a burning need to rescue his daughter and Kayla, both of whom were obviously being held against their will. He wasn’t even sure if Kayla was all right, but he assumed his brother would have protested more strongly if there had been anything seriously wrong with her. Alex may be irresponsible, but he wasn’t a murderer. And as for throwing her overboard – no, Wes refused to believe Alex could do any such thing.

On the other hand, if Wes attempted a rescue on his own he might be taken captive himself, and then he would just have made matters worse. There must be others involved in this operation who could turn up at any time, and all he had was a baseball bat, which seemed pretty ridiculous in the circumstances. Could he risk leaving Kayla and Nell with their captors for a while and go for help? Almost against his will he decided this would have to be his course of action. He had no idea how many people were helping Caro and Alex with whatever illegal business they were conducting, but they might be dangerous. Therefore, he needed backup.

Reluctantly leaving his loved ones in the summer house, Wes went back the way he had come even more cautiously than before. He entered the house via a back door, the key for which he always kept hidden in a safe place outside. Back in Kayla’s room he made sure the secret panel in the wardrobe was closed in case his brother or ex-wife decided to come back again for some reason. He didn’t want them to suspect he was onto them.

Then he called the police, went and got himself dressed warmly and went down to the jetty further along the coast where he kept his own small boat. It was a sailing boat, but with an outboard motor, and he intended to watch the proceedings from a distance in case his help was needed. He had a feeling he would have a long wait, however, as whatever Alex was up to would most certainly take place in the dark. He sat down and tried not to think of Kayla and Nell.

Consciousness and light beckoned but Kayla resisted. Instinctively she knew that going there meant pain and she held out for as long as possible. A tiny voice called out to her, however, and she couldn’t withstand it.

‘Mmm. Mmhmm!’

Kayla’s eyes fluttered open and she immediately shut them again as a knife-edge of pain sliced through her skull. ‘Ouch,’ she mumbled. Whatever she was lying on was rocking and nausea rose up in her throat. With her eyes closed she listened for a moment and realised that she could hear waves slapping against a hull, so she must be on a boat. She swallowed resolutely to rid herself of the queasiness, then took a deep breath and tried to open her eyelids again.

This time the pain didn’t hit her with quite such force and she managed to bear it for long enough to see who was making a noise next to her. There was a light, although only a very faint one, which showed Kayla that she was on the floor of a small wood-panelled cabin. Without moving her head too much she peered around and caught sight of Nell. The little girl was leaning against the wall, her hands behind her back, and she had been gagged.

‘Oh, sweetheart, what have they done to you?’ Kayla struggled into a sitting position, ignoring the thousand hammers that started to beat on an anvil somewhere inside her brain. She shuffled closer to Nell. The child was crying, large tears streaming down her cheeks, her nose was partly blocked with mucus and her face was mottled red. Kayla could see that she needed to take off the gag quickly or Nell might be in danger of suffocating. The girl looked to be on the verge of panic, which could be fatal. Kayla set about calming her down as rapidly as possible, speaking in whispers in case their captors were nearby.