Anna Jacobs (13 page)

Matthew’s face was grim and it was a moment before he responded with an equally quiet, “Very well.”

Deborah sat back on her heels. “If someone can send for her maid, we’ll take her up to her room as soon as she recovers.”

“I’ll carry her. She’s prone to these fainting fits, I’m afraid, and needs to lie quietly for a few hours.” Elkin stepped forward, bending over his mother, his face only inches away from Deborah’s. “You’ll not remain Mistress of Marymoor,” he whispered.

His expression hadn’t changed, his lips had scarcely moved and his voice had been so low that no one else could have heard it. She couldn’t move for shock as she watched him scoop up the frail, elderly woman in his arms, behaving calmly, as if he had not just made a threat to her life. She didn’t feel calm, however, and pressed one hand involuntarily to her breast, for her heart was beating fast with sudden fear. Yes, fear. Elkin might dress like a fop, but there was a strength beneath the fine clothes. And an evil purpose.

Unaware of what had happened, Matthew opened the door and Elkin paused for a moment as the two men’s gazes met, neither attempting to hide his true feelings. Then he moved on, carrying his mother with exaggerated care.

Deborah thought she saw Mrs Elkin’s eyes flicker open and close quickly. With a shudder she turned back to the room, relieved at how normal it all seemed now Elkin had left.

The lawyer was shuffling his papers together. Dr Lethbury was speaking to the parson in a low voice and Matthew was still standing in the hall, just outside. He looked as if he were carved from stone and didn’t move until she walked across the room to ring the handbell.

Mrs Simley answered the bell herself, looking round for Elkin and seeming surprised not to see him.

“Mrs Elkin has been taken ill,” Deborah told her. “Can you please send her maid up to her bedchamber.”

“Just a minute.” Matthew came across to join them. “You may also wish to know, Mrs Simley, that your former master left everything he owned to my wife, who is now mistress of Marymoor. And since you’re so fond of Elkin that you must needs forget where your loyalties lie, when he and his mother leave tomorrow, you and your husband may leave with them.”

The housekeeper gasped and clutched one hand to her ample bosom. She said nothing, but the look she threw at them was filled with hatred.

Another person who bears us ill-will, Deborah thought wearily.

“Don’t forget. You’re to leave tomorrow morning,” Matthew repeated.

“And please send Merry to see me,” Deborah called after the housekeeper.

Mr Downie came forward to join them. “I think I can leave you to explain to your wife exactly what she has inherited, can I not, Mr Pascoe?”

Matthew nodded. “Yes, of course. And thank you for all your help.”

“I was fond of Ralph. He was more than a client; he was a dear, dear friend.” He bowed to Deborah. “I shall take my leave of you for now, Mrs Pascoe, but if you or your husband need my help . . . ”

The parson and doctor left with him and as they drove away, Merry came in to clear away the wine glasses.

She looked so downcast that Deborah asked, “Did Mrs Simley tell you what’s happened?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Matthew and I have inherited Marymoor, not Mr Elkin.”

Merry let out a stifled shriek, clapping one hand to her mouth then beaming at them. “Eh, I wish you well of it, I do that.”

Deborah smiled back, glad of the young woman’s simple friendliness after the tensions of the past hour. “Mr and Mrs Simley will be leaving tomorrow, but I hope you’ll stay on to work for us. It’ll be a bit difficult at first till we’ve hired other staff, but I’m not too proud to dirty my hands, so it won’t all be left to you.”

Matthew came to stand beside them. “I know what a good worker you are, Merry, and have told my wife so.”

The girl’s eyes filled with tears. “I’ll be happy to stay, sir, madam. Eh, to think of it!” She bustled out with the laden tray, still beaming.

“Well, one person is pleased, at least,” he commented.

“Are you not?”

“I shall feel better once Elkin has left. Until then I shall keep careful watch on his comings and goings.” He looked at Deborah very seriously. “Stay near me at all times until he’s left.” A minute later, he said thoughtfully, “And I think we’ll keep a careful watch tonight. Who knows to what lengths that man is prepared to go?”

“But he has no right to the house now. Surely once his anger has cooled down, he’ll realise that?”

“He has no right to it. But you do. If anything were to happen to me, you’d be at even greater risk for as the only other relative he’d be your heir—or he could obtain Marymoor by marrying you.”

She remembered Elkin’s words, “You’ll not remain Mistress of Marymoor.” That was what he’d meant. “I could never marry that man.”

“People can be forced into marriage.” He shook his head regretfully. “I wish we hadn’t sent for your mother. I’d like to send you away somewhere safe until—”

She didn’t hesitate. “I’d not go! My place is here now, with you.”

He gave her a wry smile. “I knew you’d say that. But I’d take you away by force if I had to, to save your life.” His voice softened. “And not only because of the money. There is no time now, but afterwards . . . ”

“Afterwards,” she echoed, adding her own promise to his.

It was so easy to love him. She started to move away, then stopped to marvel at what she had just realised—she loved him. So quickly. So easily. And though he might not love her in the same way, he wasn’t indifferent to her, she was quite sure of that.

* * * *

When they went up to bed that night after a tense and mainly silent dinner in Elkin’s company, Matthew made no attempt to get undressed. “Jem and I will be keeping watch tonight,” he told his wife. “I’ve had word from John Thompson at the inn that there’s a stranger in the village, who’s been sitting drinking with Elkin, their heads close together like conspirators. We need to find out who he is, what they’re planning.” He looked at her steadily. “You’re not to leave this room tonight, not for any reason. Promise me.”

She nodded agreement. 

“Lock the door after me, then remove the key. I have another.” He smiled briefly. “In fact I have keys to all the rooms and if Elkin leaves the house, I intend to search his bedchamber.”

Danger seemed to swirl round them again as if the very shadows held menace. She had to bite back a plea to him to take care.

He patted her shoulder. “Open the door to no one but me or Jem, Deborah, whatever anyone tells you. Whatever they say!”

Again she nodded.

When he had gone, she was left with the flickering candle and the sure knowledge that she couldn’t possibly sleep, so sat upright on the bed waiting for she knew not what.

She must have dozed eventually, however, because she jerked awake as some small noise disturbed the stillness of the night. She glanced quickly round the room, lit only by moonlight now, for the candle had burned down. She was still alone. What had woken her? Slipping from the bed she went to stand by the door, wondering if it was Matthew coming back.

The handle of the door turned—silently, slowly, making not a sound.

Matthew would not need to be so quiet!

She watched the handle hardly daring to breathe. It stopped moving as the person on the other side found the door locked, then turned back just as slowly and carefully.

She heard only the faintest of sounds as someone crept away. Was it Elkin? Well, who else could it be? If he had wanted something honestly he would have knocked, so what had he intended to do if he found the door unlocked? You’ll not remain Mistress of Marymoor. The words came back to her again.

She shivered and stayed where she was, continuing to listen, but hearing only the usual night noises. She jumped in shock as an owl hooted in the distance then told herself not to be silly and went to sit on the bed again. For a while she struggled desperately to stay awake, then decided she might as well lie down and rest, at least.

When she awoke, the first light of dawn was turning the room into a grey blur. Beside her, Matthew lay sleeping peacefully. She hadn’t even heard him come in, though she was usually a light sleeper.

She sighed and relaxed into sleep again. With him there she felt safe.

* * * *

The two elderly fugitives spent the night with a packman and his wife in a shepherd’s shelter on the moors. It stayed fine and once again Isabel Jannvier slept soundly to wake looking rosy and refreshed. It was Bessie who was feeling the strain, for she was a buxom woman and not used to walking so far.

“We could give you a ride into Rochdale for sixpence each,” the packman’s wife said as they shared a simple breakfast. “The baskets are mostly empty and ’twouldn’t take much to rearrange them. Our horses don’t go fast, but they’re steady. Better than walking.”

“That would be delightful,” Isabel said at once. “I haven’t ridden for years, but I’m sure I haven’t forgotten how to.”

So they bumped along on the sturdy little packhorses and Bessie listened in amazement as her mistress held a lively conversation with the rough-looking woman. Mrs Isabel didn’t seem at all concerned about what they were doing, but Bessie couldn’t help worrying. It had just occurred to her that they’d both left most of their worldly possessions behind. Would Mr Lawrence destroy them out of spite? Would they ever get them back? They’d only been able to bring a few necessities with them.

And what had happened to Deborah? If she sent a message to Newgarth now, there would be no one to receive it except her uncle. They could only hope that she’d still be at Marymoor.

Gradually the mild sunny day lulled Bessie and she let herself bounce along, enjoying the fine vistas as they started to make their way down towards Rochdale. Funny old way of travelling, this, but Walter Lawrence would be hard put to follow them, she was sure.

They’d better be careful once they got to Rochdale, though. Conceal who they were. Behave circumspectly. She must impress that on her mistress.

If he heard where they were, they would undoubtedly find themselves in trouble.

Chapter 7

When Matthew awoke he saw Deborah lying on her side, looking at him and smiled. “You’re a sound sleeper. You didn’t even stir when I came into the bedroom.”

She pulled a wry face at him. “That’s because I stayed awake a long time in case you needed me.”

“Jem and I are quite capable of keeping an eye on things, my dear. No one left the house or entered it during the night, I promise you.”

“But someone did creep along the landing and try the handle of our bedroom door.”

“They knocked?”

“No. Just turned the handle. They didn’t speak, but must have made a noise coming here because something woke me and I went to stand by the door in case it was you returning. There was enough moonlight for me to see the door handling turning. I could also hear faint sounds, as if someone were creeping away again after they found it locked.”

He half-closed his eyes as he thought this through. “Elkin could have seen us watching the outside of the house. You must be careful of him, Deborah.”

“Why were you watching the outside?”

“Because we thought he had an accomplice. There’s a stranger staying in the village and Elkin sat drinking with him.” He took a step backwards. “Perhaps you’d like to get up now? I’ll wait for you on the landing.”

As soon as he’d left she got up and made a hurried toilette, dressing in the simple gown she’d brought with her.

When she went out to join him, he locked the bedchamber door. “Let’s go down and eat.”

Mrs Simley was nowhere to be seen.

“She’s packing up her things,” Merry said apologetically. “Shall I get you something?”

“I’ll help you,” Deborah said.

Matthew watched her work with a half-smile on his face. “You seem at home in a kitchen.”

“You know how small our house in Newgarth was.” She looked round. “We’ll eat in the dining room, I think. This table needs a good scrubbing.”

“We’ll get someone in from the village to do that,” Matthew said firmly.

When they’d eaten their fill, he rang the handbell for Merry to clear the table.

“What’s Seth Bailey doing?” he asked as she began to collect the pewter platters together.

“Sitting in the kitchen feeding his face and talking to Mr Simley.”

“And Mrs Simley?”

“Getting them all something to eat.”

“I think I’ll go and speak to Bailey while his master’s not around,” Matthew said abruptly and followed the maid back to the kitchen.

After the briefest of hesitations Deborah followed, stopping in the doorway to listen.

“What time does your master usually rise?” Matthew was asking.

Seth, a large man with a broken nose, stood up with obvious reluctance, casting him an unfriendly look. “I never know, sir. I just wait till he rings. Not an early riser, Mr Elkin.”

The maid Denise came rushing down into the kitchen by the back stairs, squeaking in shock as she nearly bumped into Deborah. “Oh, Mrs Pascoe, my mistress is very ill this morning. Please can the doctor be fetched? She keeps being sick and she has the flux. She thinks it’s something she ate.”

“I’ll come up and see her myself first. Though how it can be something she ate when the rest of us are fine, I don’t know.”

“All I know is she’s very ill, poor lady, and her not strong to begin with.” Denise noticed Seth scowling at her and shot him a frightened glance before edging back towards the servants’ stairs.

Wondering at this, Deborah accompanied her to Mrs Elkin’s room, using the nearby stairs to save time, not caring about her dignity. She found their guest in great distress, definitely not faking illness.

She came back down and reported this to Matthew. “We’ll have to call in Dr Lethbury, I’m afraid.”

“Damnation! We can’t turn her away if she’s really ill.”

She looked at him anxiously. “This means Elkin will have to stay on as well, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. You’re sure this illness isn’t being faked?”

“Absolutely sure. I saw her vomiting myself.”