Hope's Betrayal (29 page)

Thomas
continued. “One of Choake's thugs told Pa Hope was hurt bad and were asking for
him. Only Pa smelt a rat and refused to go with him, and then the man went mad
and beat Pa.”

Huntley’s blood
ran cold. “One thing at a time. Who is this Choake?"

"It's
Choake's money behind the ring."

"And when
did this happen?"

"Yesterday
evening. I were night fishing and came back this morning to find Pa right
poorly."

A pulse throbbed
at the base of Huntley's throat. "And why is Miss Tyler in danger?"

"Because Pa
was a means of getting to her. She's next."

Huntley shook
his head, exasperated. "How do you know that?"

"Cos when
he were beating Pa, the man raged about Choake getting revenge for his dead
brother. The man shot by you, Captain Huntley."

"I still
don’t see…"

"And that
he'd kill anyone that betrayed the smugglers."

"But Hope
didn’t—just the opposite in fact."

"Well,
that's not what he believes, sir. As far as he's concerned, she's a
traitor."

Huntley
suppressed a shiver. “It sounds like this Choake is the man Bennett is after.
What more do you know?”

Thomas met his
eye. “Not much, he's well-off and lives on the mainland, has a strange name he
has, Oswald Choake.”

A fist squeezed
all the blood from Huntley’s heart.

"Say that
again."

"Oswald
Choake."

Huntley skin
crawled.

"What does
this man look like?"

"A
gent—wealthy, above-average height, brown hair and an arrogant way about
him—oh, and a long, roman nose."

 “Oswald!” He
whispered in dread. With a calmness he did not feel he turned to the footman.
“Jenkins, kindly tell me, where is Miss Tyler?”

"Went out
to walk the dog, Captain." Jenkins looked a little queasy. "Come to
think of it, she's a little late back. Usually back an hour or so by now…"

All the fires of
hell started to burn in Huntley’s blood. “Jenkins, get the maid to check Miss
Tyler hasn’t returned unannounced. Tyler, come with me.”

"This
way." Without slowing, Oswald shouted over his shoulder. Even with Jasper
under his arm, Oswald's pace didn’t falter and Hope had to run to catch up.

"Wait a
moment." Hope panted. "Where are we heading?"

"The
cove." Oswald grunted, without slackening his stride. "I can trust
you not to betray free traders?"

Hope swallowed
hard. "Of course."

"Then I can
tell you. I know your father because he works for me—as indeed you used
to."

"I don’t
understand."

"Talk
later. Keep up or we'll be too late."

Oswald took off
again, his coattails flapping. Once more Hope set off behind him. As the track
narrowed and became less clear, branches blocked the way and brambles dragged
at her skirt. Oswald was forced to slow to clear a path. Hope tipped her head
and heard the distant shush of the sea.

"Are you
sure this is the way?" Hope grew uneasy.

"Here or
hereabouts."

"Perhaps we
should go back?"

"We've not
strayed far. We'll keep going and rejoin the track."

"Wouldn’t
it be easier to retrace our steps?"

"No!"
His vehemence startled her. "Take the damned dog. It's no wonder I got
distracted, carting this mutt around." He thrust Jasper at her.

Her heart thudded,
and not from exertion. Jasper whimpered and she smoothed his head to reassure
him.

"We haven't
time for that. Come." There was thinly disguised menace in his tone.
"If we are to reach your father in time."

Hope quailed
inwardly, as slowly she followed. "You were there when he fell?"

Oswald's
shoulders tensed. "Yes. On shingle, hit his head on the boat."

Slow seconds
ticked by. "So he can’t walk?"

"No." 

“Then we should
go back and get a boat. Approach the bay by sea. It will be difficult to bring him
back up the steep woodland path.”

“You
misunderstand,” Oswald looked crazed, “I have no wish to alarm you but your
father is fighting for life. Delay is not advisable.”

With every
passing second, doubt grew. Oswald moved closer to take her arm, but Hope
stepped back out of reach.

“Best you lead
on.”

"Very
well."

With a frown
Oswald set off again, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting her to flee.
Hope dragged her feet, deliberately letting her skirts tangle in the briars, so
she had to stop to free herself, anything —but delay reaching the beach. Her
mind raced. Surely Oswald's erratic behavior was because he didn’t want the
smuggling discovered?

“Ouch!” Hope
squealed, and bent to rub her leg. “Oh, dear.” She tried to hobble forward, but
winced.

“What’s the
matter now?”

“Twisted my
ankle.”

“Take my arm.”

“No thank you. I
just need to sit for a while.”

Exasperation
flashed across his face.

“We haven't the
time.”

“And I tell you,
I can’t go on.”

As she made to
lower herself to the ground, Oswald grabbed her arm. Jasper stiffened, prowling
forward, his hackles raised.

“Get out of my
way, dog.”

A low rumbling
growl issued from his tiny frame.

“Jasper doesn't
like you touching me.”

“We’ll soon see
about that.” Before she knew what he was about, Oswald swung his leg and kicked
Jasper hard across the hips. The dog yelped pitifully. “Be off, runt.” Oswald
swung for another kick again but Jasper slunk out of range. “Now get up, before
I kick you too.”

Fuelled by rage,
Hope stood and glared at him. “There was no need to hurt the dog.”

“That’s the
least of your problems. Now—come.” With her elbow painfully squeezed in his
hand he shoved her forward. She glanced around, fearful if Jasper was seriously
hurt, but to her relief, the dog had disappeared.

"No."

Oswald reached
into his jacket and pulled out a knife. "Then let me motivate you with
this." He grabbed her arm, pressing the tip of the blade against her ribs.
"And don’t think I wouldn’t use it. Walk."

She felt the
prick of the knife against her skin and did his bidding. They walked in
silence, Hope in the lead, the blade at her back. The woodland began to thin,
hawthorn gave way to horsetails and ferns. Then, over the crest of the next
hill, she glimpsed the sea.

Every year after
heavy rain, a new part of the hillside crumbled into the sea. Suddenly, the
ground shelved away as if they had reached the edge of the world.

"Go
on." Oswald nudged her onto a narrow chalk ledge. Heart thumping, she
stepped down, to find the track across the cliff-face leading down to the cove.
With little choice, Hope started the steep descent to the beach. Where the
hillside had crumbled and trees held on by their roots, the rain had washed
away what sparse covering of soil there was. A path of sorts zigzagged down the
cliff face, using the exposed roots as a form of steps. The sea a dizzying
distance below. Far below. Hope made out trees which had fallen crashing to the
beach below, their trunks now stripped bare and bleached by the pounding tides.

Halfway down, a
sea fog rose up to meet them, as if they were descending into cloud. Oswald
pinched her arm, pushing her on. She stumbled and clutched wildly for a
handhold, landing with a thump on her bottom.

“Ouch.”

“Get up.”

Gripping her
armpit, he yanked her upright. Hope boiled with indignation. Anger lifted her
above fear—she was damned if she was going to make this easy for him..

“Why are you
doing this?”

“Get moving.”

“No.” She
stamped her foot, and overbalancing, threw herself back against tree roots.
"If you wish me harm, do it here, don’t drag me all the way down.”

“You think I
wish you harm?” Oswald grinned and had never seemed more sinister.

“Why else would
you be doing this? If you want rid of me,” she gestured wildly at the air,
“push me over the edge. Don’t make me walk to the bottom.” She grew bolder as
she grew more irate. “It will look like an accident, as if I tripped and fell.
People will assume I was looking for Jasper and slipped in the fog.”

She bit her lip,
belatedly realising it wasn’t the wisest choice to give her would-be murderer
such an idea.

“Oh no, Miss
Tyler, you have me all wrong. It's not you I wish to hurt.”

“You don’t?”
Giddy with relief she almost laughed

 “No, it’s not
you I wish to punish—but Captain Huntley.”

Hope’s heart
settled like a stone in her boots. "Not me?"

“Because of him,
you have to suffer, a quick death won’t do. He took from me, so I take from
him. Huntley must pay.”

"Why? I
don’t understand?"

But Oswald
wasn’t listening but muttering to himself. "I nearly succeeded, with Lady
Ryevale , such a trusting soul, accepting a drink from a stranger. A shame I
didn’t know then how precious you are to Huntley. Her Ladyship suffered that
agony for nothing! "

Hope gasped.
"You poisoned Lady Ryevale?"

"Of
course."

"She didn’t
even know you. What harm had Her Ladyship done you?"

"You miss
the point. Her son must know the pain of loss—and that means harming those he
cares for, the closer the better."

Clearly Oswald
was deranged. Dumbfounded, Hope glanced around for help. She was perched on the
side of a cliff with a madman. She fought back hysteria as she contemplated
clawing at Oswald’s eyes and pushing him off the path, but he was stronger than
her and had a knife.

 He shook his
head. “I wouldn’t try it. Besides, you cling to the hope that someone will
rescue you, so why take the risk?” His smirked. “But of course, no one is
coming, because no one knows I am here. They think I'm on the Island.”

“And father,”
she whimpered, “he isn’t on the beach?" Fear told her to keep Oswald talking.

“No, I had him
beaten to a pulp. He wouldn’t obey me, you see.”

“Oh!”

 “And by the
time you are late for supper and found missing, it will be dark. They will
search the woods—but no one will go to the beach. Quite simply, they won’t look
there. And in the morning, when eventually they send a boat, they will see your
poor lifeless body, drowned on the rising tide.”

Gripped by raw
fear, Hope couldn’t breathe.

“Imagine the
water lapping at your toes, soaking your skirts as it claws up your legs, to
compress your chest, and then fill your mouth and nose. Night after night,
Huntley will have nightmares, knowing how you fought to keep alive. How you
strained at the ropes, sucking air through pursed lips into your gasping lungs
as you tried to keep your head against the waves—and those last moments, as the
tides ebb and flow, granting a reprieve only to have it snatched away with the
next wave—‘tis enough to drive a man insane.”

“Why?” Sobbed
Hope, wide-eyed. “What has he ever done to you?”

“He killed my
brother!" He pushed her roughly. “Walk. There’ll be plenty of time for
storytelling, as the tide rises.”

*****

Hope slithered
the last few yards and landed with a thump on her backside. Her first instinct
was to flee, but the ground rumbled as Oswald landed beside her, his hand
gripping her shoulder. She felt the prick of a metal blade in the small of her
back.

“Weren't
thinking of running, were you?” his voice heavy with menace

“No, not at all.
I was getting out of the way in case you stumbled.” She willed herself to stay
calm. Perhaps if she could keep him talking and win his sympathy, she might
catch him off guard.

“Which cove is
this?”

“I’m not after
pretty conversation. Be quiet and walk.”

The cold blade
of a knife nudged her in the back, forcing her to step forward. She had never
been down to this beach before and it appeared to be a secluded bay, with a
sandy beach which turned to shingle along the waterline. It was a private spot,
much beloved she guessed, of smugglers because of the woodland which curved
around it. Hope suppressed a wave of panic. The chances were, that even when
people realised she was missing, they wouldn't search here. She had to keep
Oswald talking, buy time while she formed a plan. He jabbed at her, pushing her
across the beach toward the sea.

“Ouch! No need
to be so rough, it’s not as if I can run away.”