Read A Perilous Marriage Online
Authors: Isobel Kelly
Where was everyone? Looking further over the gardens and into the distant woodland, he could not see a soul. Even the keepers with their dogs were gone. He ventured closer to the house to investigate more thoroughly and noticed every barn door was closed as well and the usual gardeners unseen or perhaps taking time off from their duties. He heard a few voices coming from the open kitchen door, so the house was not entirely vacated, but it was obvious that the owners had gone—packed up and gone while he had been sleeping.
What the hell could he do now? What possible explanation could he give to his master? His throat tightened on that thought as he remembered what had happened to Deacon. Knowing there was no way he would stay for a confrontation like that, he made rapidly for the boundary of the estate, and after that, kept going across country in the opposite direction to the Tasker Estate towards London and safety. He had only a little money on him. Expecting to be paid, he had spent most on whoring and beer. He would have to beg lifts, but come what may, he was heading back to familiar territory, and nothing would drag him back again to work for a man like Tasker.
A figure stood at an upstairs window, his eyesight still good despite his age. Having spotted the stranger creeping carefully towards the house, he had kept his eye on him, ready to sound the warning. However, after inspecting the vacant grounds carefully, the man had suddenly turned and high-tailed it with all speed across the park and off the Ashbury property.
That’s very interesting,
thought Rowten.
Has he gone to tell Tasker the birds have flown, or has he decided he is better out of it?
Watching the man speed off in the opposite direction to the Tasker estate, he thought the latter had more significance somehow. Unless he missed his guess, the man was heading for London and safety.
He went down to the staff dining room where lunch was ready to be served. Most of the staff was off duty for the afternoon, so the place was quiet. Come evening, he would put the usual guards in place and defend the property. His family—for unmarried and childless, he thought of the earl and his countess as that—had got safely away, confident as he could be, without anyone being the wiser. This foray by a stranger seemed proof of that. He had noticeably been taken aback by the lack of people.
Well put that in your pipe, Tasker, and choke yourself to death! Lunch tastes extraordinarily good today
, Rowten thought happily.
* * * *
The three parties finally met up at Evesham where Richard planned to stay overnight. A short conversation with the innkeeper, Hicks, and Brent, an elderly stableman who was driving the wagon, settled the accommodation for the men who could camp in the stables behind the inn and would be provided with food. Richard joined Lucie in their rooms and found Mary and Edgar already in attendance with hot water and changes of clothing before they dined in a private parlour.
Richard noticed Lucie gingerly taking her seat at the dining table and smiled at her sympathetically. “Your behind has taken undue punishment, my love. You are a staunch trooper, though I would never have guessed until now. It must be the furthest you have ever ridden on horseback, is it not?”
She nodded wearily but smiled in return. “The furthest, I believe, I have travelled at any time in my life, but what a wonderful adventure I am having. Did we actually get away from Ashbury without anyone knowing?”
“Yes, as far as last night was concerned, but it is likely they will soon know today, and possibly, we shall have someone tracking us. We have to rest ourselves and the cattle tonight, but we shall be off early in the morning. By the time we reach the foothills of Shropshire, they might lose the road and guess we are heading for Shrewsbury or some other major town, instead of which I know the byways to the village of Clun where the castle and the house lies.
“Of course, Clun Castle is not as it once was, though the ruins are noteworthy as it stands high on a hillock overlooking the river. It was quite a landmark when my great grandfather bought it, and also the land round it as well as a small manor house that lay on it called Amberley Cott. A great deal of the ruins and some smaller buildings that housed stables, a bake house and kitchens, as well as ancient housing for the billeted men, was left to gradually decay, but the name Clun Castle continued to be used. Rather pleasing and gives it some history, even if, over time, further collapse of the buildings occurred. Villagers stole some of the stones for village houses, and the architect used quite a lot for the rebuilding of the manor when old Amberley Cott was taken down. The new manor took the title of Amberley Hall when it turned out to become quite a large house.”
“Oh, I truly love the name, and I’m glad it was kept. I could never understand Edmund Tasker changing the name of the estate he bought to his own surname. Although it was merely called The Willows, its name had been the same for at least a hundred years because of the osiers that grow along the banks of the nearby river. Changing the name of the house to his name, smacks of egotism. I’ve always thought Tasker was a prime egotist. Certainly, the villagers jeered, though I expect they are used to him now, or at least his money.”
“That's very perceptive of you. Egotist is fittingly appropriate. He claims he is special!”
“Hmm, especially dangerous, I think. I am so glad we managed to get away before he did us more harm. I have always believed that he murdered Emmeline, his wife, and the man she was running away with. I know I have no proof, but neither have you, and you are convinced he was responsible for Grandmama’s tragedy. Her death makes him a killer twice over. Could any of his servants be persuaded to give evidence?”
“I don’t know,” Richard said soberly. “If they were involved in either accident, then giving evidence would incriminate them as well. I doubt you’d get anyone to comply.”
“You must catch one of them and beat him until he confesses!”
“Lucie! I did not know you were so bloodthirsty.” He grinned at the look on her face. “While the thought is tempting, the law does not condone such things. I would suggest we eat now and retire early. Tomorrow will soon be here, and I won’t be happy till I have you safely in Amberley.”
Once in bed, massaging her aching back and tender bottom after the long ride led to the predictable consequences until both, sated from his intense love-making, fell asleep entwined together. Dawn was an undesirable visitor as Lucie yawned and donned two sets of underwear to protect her tender regions. Though subdued, she made no demur and was lifted onto her horse after a cup of chocolate and a roll, and followed Richard on the next stage of their journey. They stopped at Tenbury Wells, a small market town in the North West county of Worcestershire just a short way from the Shropshire border, to rest the animals, take time to eat, and recover from the fatigue of the journey. Richard was looking happier for every mile they left behind them.
After leaving Tenbury, they followed the Teme Valley, but instead of going north towards Shrewsbury on a wide highway, they turned off on a small road to the west between high hedges. After some miles, he led them northwest on an even smaller lane which was scarcely wide enough for the coach and wagon to get through. Lucie, riding alongside Richard and hearing the swearing of the concerned drivers, turned an anxious face to him. “Richard, what if they get stuck?”
“They won’t get caught. Half a mile up from here, the road widens and the going will be better. I’ve seen bigger wagons go through here, especially at harvest time.” Gazing back at her with a frown, he murmured, “Close your ears to their babbling, sweetheart. Such language is not fitting to gain knowledge of.”
She laughed gleefully. “Oh, my goodness, you’ve never heard my grandmother in her duchess mode blasting off at all and sundry. She could make Rowten blush till his ears were on fire. Many times, he used to shoo me away when I was younger until she calmed down. She had a most amazing vocabulary that usually stunned people into compliance.”
She stared at his shocked face and chortled again. “You don’t know the half of it. When she was in a mood to get her own way, she wouldn’t put up with gainsayers and would blast them to perdition until they gave in. I have to say, I learned a great deal from her style and intend to follow her example if I feel so inclined.”
“It seems I have a lot to learn about you, my Lady Martell,” he muttered grimly.
“It will keep you on your toes, my lord,” she answered sweetly.
“As, indeed, I will keep you on yours, my lady.” He smirked, not to be outdone.
Honours even, they pressed on and soon reached a better road which occasioned sighs of relief all round. A short way from the lane, they came in sight of a river and the large village which Richard said was Clun as he headed for the stone packhorse bridge, a huge affair with three buttressed piers standing in the river.
“My, that is an enormous bridge and no mistake,” said Lucie, rather awestruck with the unexpected sight. “Did the Normans build it?”
“A local earl had it built about five or six hundred years ago, so the saying goes, as he was fed up with crossing the ford when the river flooded. He built it to last, and it undoubtedly has. We just have to cross and soon, we are home. See yonder on the bend of the river upstream? That’s where we are heading.”
“Oh, how marvellous, is that Amberley Hall?” she breathed. “It looks very imposing.”
“Don’t look at the ruins behind on the mound. That’s Clun Castle. Unfortunately, only a total ruin now, all that is left from the damage of war and the elements. You can see just the topmost part of the roof because it stands high on a mound. The house we call Amberley is lower down in front of the castle. They tend to blend together as the same kind of stone was used to build the manor house. In fact, the castle was robbed of some of its stone.” As he spoke, he led the rest of his group over the bridge and through the village until he reached the gates of Amberley Hall.
Surprisingly, there were a number of men to greet him, and one he recognised straight away. “Walter, you found your way successfully, not only to book the inn which was comfortable—though by that time I could have slept on a board—but here to Amberley. Good man! It is not the easiest of places to find. Off the beaten track unless you’ve lived here a while and know the district. I gather the people here were warned we were coming?”
“Yes, milord. They are extremely troubled, though. The task of making your apartments ready and finding rooms for servants is a bit beyond them, though I resolved some of it. Hicks and the grooms will have the area over the stables. You said you had a team of stone masons coming which presented a real problem, but the Dower house is empty, and though it hasn’t been used for a long time, it will likely suit. The men will be used to making their own comfort. The present butler is aged and unwell so cannot greet you. Most of the others are old, too, as they were in service to the last earl, but they said they will do their best for now. At least the cook is not past working, and she is rounding up her staff to help though she has no idea how many to cook for. I haven’t had time to do more—”
“You have done more than I thought possible already, Walter.” He clapped the groom on his shoulder, already thinking he was an excellent man to train for a position of trust. “We rest well tonight, and tomorrow, we start in earnest.”
“Unfortunately, milord, that’s also the problem. There’s not really a place indoors for you to rest. The house is more than messed up inside. It’s in an appalling state.”
Lucie, meanwhile, was gazing at the view of the manor which she could see through the trees between the wide open frontage which lay before the house and the tall gates that were opening up to their access. It was an imposing residence of coursed and squared, rendered limestone, a slate roof with crenulated stone ridge stacks, two gables, a central link parapet capped with coarse fleur-de-lys, and a wide Tudor Arch with stout oak doors set between long-paned windows gracing three floors over raised cellars. They were tightly shuttered, giving the frontage a defensive look to repel strangers. Once they were opened and it had fresh curtains, thought Lucie, it would have the look of a grand gentleman’s residence.
Contrariwise, the inside was a different story. The large entrance hall showed not only age but neglect. The stone flags were broken and filthy. Damp patches and efflorescence covered plaster walls, and the furniture was covered in dust and bird and mouse droppings. A greyish light from a circular glass dome built into the roof lit the area from above, showing the dilapidation and ruin the house had fallen into.
“Damnation! It’s worse than I thought.” Richard groaned. Standing alongside his wife and Walter as they viewed the rooms, he wondered why he hadn’t seen how bad the place looked when he had arrived straight off the boa, and then recalled it had been late evening. He'd not only peered round with a candle, he had not moved far from a front room. Deep shadows had hidden the overall devastation.
Standing in the house for the second time since his return to England, he recalled his feelings of that first visit to his childhood home after so many years. He had dreaded the return beforehand even though he knew he could not evade it. The reality was worse. He felt the bitter acid curdling his stomach as memories crowded into his mind. The things he had cared about were few and gone into oblivion. His brothers he’d looked up to, more because they were older and were not overly punishing in their superiority. Not like his father who wielded punishment for the love of it. He remembered a few retainers who had treated him with kindness—his nanny, a butler, and a cook who saved him her special iced buns.