A Kiss from the Heart (17 page)

They sat at the dining room table in silence.

Stringer brought their breakfast and the only sound apart from the chink of knives and forks was the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece.

Finally unable to stand it any longer, the Earl rose up from the table and strode out of the room.

He did not stop until he reached the garden, taking solace in a gentle breeze that ruffled his hair and the dewy grass beneath his boots.

As he stood staring into the distance, he suddenly knew what he must do.

‘I must go to Miranda and ask her if she is, or has been, betrothed to this Brookfield,' he murmured with a decisive nod of his head. ‘I cannot let this matter rest until I have heard the truth from her own lips.'

Without waiting another second, he ran towards the stables, his thoughts all concentrated on finding Miranda.

*

Miranda pulled Bluebell to a halt before she urged her along the last stretch of lane leading to the site of the new dairy.

Her heart was beating fast with anticipation as she smoothed her hair and composed herself.

‘Perhaps there is some matter that has occurred to him that he now wishes to draw to my attention,' she told herself, ‘and I am simply being foolish for thinking that he might have some personal reason for summoning me.'

Taking several deep breaths she dug her heels into the mare's side and covered the last few yards before the turn in the lane.

She bent her head as they moved along the narrow track to avoid low branches, emerging some moments later into Flodder's meadow.

Miranda smiled as she recalled the scene all those years ago, when she had dug the young Lord Robert out of the huge snowdrift and hauled him onto the icy toboggan to drag him to safety.

Now the barn that had been the centre of the drama had been demolished and the workmen had already sunk the foundations for the new dairy.

‘I am a little early,' she realised as she dismounted. ‘It will take him longer to ride here from the Hall.'

She tethered Bluebell to an old fence at the edge of the field and viewed the worksite.

Soon the builders would be arriving and new brick walls would shortly spring up as well as a cottage for the dairyman. There would be a milking parlour and a place to make and store the cheese.

‘He has such vision!' thought Miranda with a smile. “I had thought this place would forever remain a barren field with its forgotten barn.”

The sound of horses made her turn around.

‘It is Robert!
He is here!
'

She wondered if she should run and greet him, but decided that would make her look too eager. Instead, she sat down on the sawn-off stump of a tree and waited.

Through the trees she spied the tall figure of a man coming towards her on foot.

‘He must have left his carriage in the lane.'

She started to smile, but the smile froze on her face when it dawned on her just who was walking towards her.

“
You!
” she screamed, throwing her hands up to her face. “Y-you have tricked me! Where is Lord Templeton? Have you harmed him? If you have, I will – ”

“You will do what, my dear?”

Lord Brookfield's face twisted into a sneer. He was soon by her side towering over her with a threatening air.

“Wh-where is Lord Templeton?” she asked again, trying to sound as if she was not terrified.

“He is certainly not here, if that is what you are thinking. No, my dear Miranda, we are quite alone.”

“But the letter – ”

“Written in my own fair hand. Quite a good copy of his Lordship's script, was it not?”

Miranda's thoughts raced. She had no idea how he had forged the letter so well, but yes, she had thought the writing a little strange.

She rose from her makeshift seat.

She focused on Bluebell who was munching at some sweet clover she had found.

‘If I can just reach Bluebell – '

“And where do you think you are going?” grated Lord Brookfield, roughly pushing her back down onto the tree stump once more.

He pulled the pistol from his trouser waistband and aimed it at her.

Miranda cried out loudly, the blood draining from her face as he gripped her shoulder with his free hand and pointed the pistol at her head.

“Now, if you know what is really good for you,” he muttered, “you will do as I say and will be unharmed. I have not come to kill you, but to take you away with me. I can see that you seem far too attached to this Templeton character and need to be shown the error of your ways.”

“What are you – going to do with me?” she quavered.

“I am afraid I shall have to restrain you and I would ask that you don't attempt to run away whilst I am doing so. Will you do that for me?”

In terror Miranda agreed with a nod of her head.

He took his hand off her shoulder and dipped into his pocket. He pulled out a long cord.

“Please put your hands behind your back.”

Compliantly she did so.

She put her head down – she did not want him to see the tears in her eyes.

‘I must be brave!' she told herself, as she felt him tie her hands together.

“Now get up,” he demanded. “Once we are in the carriage I am afraid I shall have to put you to sleep until we reach Gretna Green.”

“
Gretna Green!
” cried Miranda, halting in her steps. “Why are we going there?”

Lord Brookfield laughed.

“You have so far eluded all my attempts at making you mine. At Gretna Green we shall be married.”

“But what about my things? I have nothing with me!” she screamed, trying to buy some time.

“I will purchase more clothes for you than you have ever dreamed about, once we are both in my castle in Northumberland,” he replied with a manic light in his eyes.

“I shall take you to Princes Street in Edinburgh and you shall have the best of everything! With your Scottish connections and mine, I will be the most important Noble in Scotland
and
England!”

“But I don't want to marry you! I am in love with another!”

“Silence!” he cried. “We will have no more of this. Don't mention that odious idiot's name again.”

Miranda whimpered and allowed her head to droop forward into a posture of resignation.

Satisfied that he had subdued her, Lord Brookfield slowly lowered his pistol and put it into his pocket.

‘Perhaps he will see sense and let me go,' thought Miranda hopefully. ‘He must have gone completely and utterly mad!'

“Now, just be a good girl – ” he was saying as he moved towards her, tipping the bottle he now held into a wad of cotton wool –

*

The Earl dug his heels into Monty's smooth flank and the stallion shot off down the drive of Ledbury Hall.

They flew over the fields and very soon the distant chimneys of The Grange came into view.

He did his best to ignore his throbbing head and the queasy feeling in his stomach.

He knew that he would not rest until he had seen Miranda.

Out of breath he now slowed Monty to a trot as they approached the house. He was pleased to see Sir George standing by his front door.

“Sir George!” he called, panting from his exertions. “Is Miranda at home? I need to speak with her!”

“Mervin tells me that she has already gone to meet you at Flodder's meadow,” replied Sir George in a jocular manner. “Your note – ”

An awful terror clutched at the Earl's thundering heart.

“My note?” he asked, his voice strangulating as he attempted to speak. “I sent
no
note. I have come to clear up a certain matter – ”

“Then who the devil did?” demanded Sir George. “Good Lord, I think there may be something amiss! If she is not with you, then I believe that blackguard Brookfield is behind this. We must take immediate action!”

But before he could say another word, the Earl had run back towards Monty and leapt up on his back.

“Raise the alarm!” he shouted, his voice almost lost to the wind.

Sir George hurried inside and rang for his fastest rider to leave immediately for Malvern and alert the Police, his hand shaking as he wrote a brief note for the Chief Constable.

If he had been younger and fitter, he would have climbed up on a horse as well and followed the young Earl. But his heavy frame and bad heart would not allow it.

The Earl's face was white with fury as he quickly covered the short distance to Flodder's meadow.

As he approached the narrow lane that led to the site of the new dairy, he brought Monty to a halt.

By the side of the lane he noticed a carriage. The driver was asleep on top of the box with his hat tipped over his eyes.

Stealthily he tied up Monty to a post and crept past the carriage. It suddenly occurred to him that Lord Brookfield might be armed –

‘Then let the damn blighter take a pop at me!' he muttered, as he made his way to the clearing at the top of the narrow lane.

What he saw when he emerged from the trees made his heart stand still.

To his utter horror there was Miranda, seemingly limp and lifeless, being carried by Lord Brookfield along the path.

He could not have seen the Earl approach, as he had his head bowed with the effort of carrying her.

‘It will do me no good to apprehend them in the open field,' he told himself recalling his Army training.

Quickly he sought the cover of the trees at the side of the field and flattened himself against them.

Lord Brookfield had clearly tired himself out with his exertions. Staggering slightly he halted for a moment and wiped his face with the cuff of his coat.

Resuming his exertions he carried Miranda away from the field and down the track to his waiting carriage.

‘What must his carriage driver think?' mumbled the Earl under his breath. ‘That his Master is a total bounder and abductor of women?'

He watched from behind a bush carefully planning his move while Lord Brookfield shouted to his driver and demanded his help.

The driver did not utter a single word of reproach and treated Miranda as if she was a parcel.

‘That sort of loyalty does not come cheap,' mused the Earl, inching his way towards the carriage. ‘He looks a rough fellow whose silence would be easily bought with a well-placed note or silver coin.'

With Miranda now bundled inside the cabin, he was shocked to see Lord Brookfield close the door behind her and start to climb up onto the box next to his driver.

‘I must seize my opportunity now!' the Earl quickly decided.

As the carriage began to move off, the Earl broke cover, ran behind the carriage and, as it bumped over the rocky track, he threw himself at the postillion just seconds before the horses reached the lane beyond.

He clung onto the postillion and hauled himself up and over onto the roof.

The horses were now beginning to gather speed and he realised he did not have a moment to lose.

He hung down over the side of the carriage and was just able to force the window open.

Within a few seconds he had swung himself down through the window and into the cabin.

Miranda groaned as he dropped to the floor. The strong smell of chloroform permeated the leather interior.

‘He has drugged her!' he muttered, moving towards Miranda's slumped form.

He could have cried when he saw that she had been both bound and gagged. Tenderly he pulled down the gag. As his hand touched her face, her eyelids fluttered.

“Miranda!” he whispered. “My dear, dear darling! Don't cry out or say a word – I have come to rescue you!”

“I – ”

“Hush, beloved. Do not attempt to speak. Your father has alerted the Police and they will be here soon.”

Feeling for the penknife in his pocket he was soon sawing at the thin cord binding her wrists.

As soon as the cord fell apart he crushed Miranda against his heaving chest and with a whispered “darling!” sought out her lips with his.

“Oh, Robert!” mumbled Miranda weakly.

“Now listen to me very carefully, my darling,” he urged her, holding her face tenderly in his hands.

“What I say to you is important. Soon this carriage will reach the level crossing and will slow down. As it does I will open the carriage door and you will have to find the strength within you to get out. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes,” answered Miranda – her grey eyes full of love.

“Right, be ready – ”

The carriage, as he had predicted, suddenly slowed down as they approached the level crossing.

The Earl opened the door, kissed Miranda upon the head and then half flung her out into some bushes. A few seconds later, he followed her and as he landed pulled her towards him.

“We must stay right here in these bushes until the carriage has disappeared,” he whispered.

“But – how long will it be – before he realises I am not in the carriage – and comes looking – for me again?” she asked fearfully as they broke their cover and began to make their way back towards The Grange.

The Earl half-carried Miranda, who was still feeling faint from the chloroform, as they moved swiftly along the lane.

“I could not say,” he replied, through gritted teeth. “But I am hoping that the Chief Constable will be waiting for us at The Grange if your father's stable boy has done his job.”

A short time later, exhausted and filthy from their traumatic journey, they hobbled up the short drive to The Grange.

“They are here!
They are here
!”

The same stable boy who had ridden like the wind to alert the Police was sitting by the horse trough waiting for them.

Almost as soon as the words had left his lips, Sir George and Lady Whitby followed by the Chief Constable came bursting out of the front door towards them.

“Miranda!” her father shouted. “Are you harmed?”