Lord Cavendish Returns (13 page)

His gut
instinct was proven correct when, about an hour later, a furtive
movement to the right of the house caught his attention. He watched
a dark figure leave the line of trees that ran to one side of the
property and head toward the driveway. The figure didn’t approach
the house, or even look at it as he passed. Instead, he quietly
made his way down the short drive and vanished into the
darkness.

Harper
studied the distance between the driveway and the house. The figure
was either confident that he wouldn’t be seen, or didn’t really
give a damn if he was. But why was he watching the vicarage? What
did he want? The hooded figure looked slightly macabre in the
blackness of the night but he went after it anyway. As he followed,
he half expected the man, and he was fairly certain it was a man
given the ground eating strides he took, to turn toward the
village. He was a little perturbed when his quarry climbed agilely
over a fence and disappeared in the opposite direction.

Harper
crept closer to the hedgerow. All of his senses went on alert and
he squatted down to study the narrow gaps at the bottom of the
hedge to check for legs or feet on the opposite side.
Unfortunately, it meant that he was now in the ditch that ran along
the side of the road, but he didn’t care. His target had vanished.
Without climbing the fence after him there was little Harper could
do. Rather than follow any further, he stood in the shadows and
waited.

Minutes
later, he was rewarded for his patience when he caught sight of a
solitary figure at the opposite end of the field. He was too far
away to give chase. All Harper could do was watch his quarry climb
over another fence and disappear over the hill in the direction of
Moldton. His gut feeling warned him that this was the person who
had locked him and Arrabella in the crypt. He just didn’t know why
they had done it, or who they were, but it was only a matter of
time before Harper got the information he needed – all of
it.

Once he
was satisfied that the man had gone for now, Harper jogged back to
the vicarage and checked all of the doors and windows from the
outside before he settled down in a densely shadowed part of the
garden to keep watch.

CHAPTER
SIX

“
You look a little tired this morning,” Arrabella said with a
frown as she studied the dark shadows beneath his eyes.

“
It’s taking a little time to get used to being in the quiet
of the country, that’s all,” Harper replied obliquely. He threw her
a tender look that assured her he was fine. There was no earthly
reason why he should tell her that he had kept guard over her house
throughout the night, and only moved from his hiding place when
dawn had started to creep over the horizon, and Mrs Able had left
her house in her dressing gown to feed her chickens.

“
You are used to the city noises. It must be completely
different to have nothing but the soft hoot of an own and silence
to break your sleep.”

“
I have slept in all sorts of places, but it has never really
been all that quiet.” He tapped the side of his head. “Too much
going on up here.”

“
You must be eager to get back to the city.” She waved a hand
to indicate the rolling landscape around them. “I mean, nothing
much happens around here. It must be boring compared to what you
are used to.”

“
Boring? Do you really think that being locked in the crypt by
an unnamed person and then mysteriously let back out again several
hours later is boring?” he asked incredulously. “Getting locked in
anywhere with a beautiful woman is the last thing I would ever call
boring.”

She was
thrilled to pieces that he thought that she was ‘beautiful’ but,
before she could say anything, he held his elbow out to her and
lifted his brows.

“
Ready to go again?”

She
groaned and rolled her eyes, but rested her hand on the crook of
his elbow and allowed him to escort her out to the waiting curricle
anyway. She didn’t want to question why she had a wide smile on her
face, or the sun felt brighter, or the birds seemed to chirp louder
in the trees. Instead, she allowed him to hand her into the
curricle and settled back to enjoy the journey.

The
church door was open when they pulled to a stop outside Moldton
church. The ladies were already industriously polishing the pews
and washing the floors. Having secured the services of one of the
ladies, Mrs Finlay, to keep the door open for them, they lit
several candles and descended into the crypt for the second time in
two days.

The
enclosed place of rest suddenly wasn’t as forbidding as it had been
the day before, yet she knew that everything was just the same. She
was very conscious of the fact that everything felt a little
different today, especially after the kisses she had shared with
Harper last night. She didn’t know whether it was because he was
beside her again, their relationship had changed, or the cleaning
ladies were upstairs and keeping the door open, but Arrabella had
no qualms about following him into the darkness and was actually
eager to start work.

Once the
candles were safely stored on the wall mounts, and the room lit
well enough to see clearly, they began where they left off
yesterday, and started to draw boxes away from the wall so that
they could peer into the contents. Unfortunately, the next several
boxes contained nothing but more papers and a few altar cloths.
They spent hours dragging the boxes out, searching the contents and
then pushing the boxes back against the far wall. It was
mid-afternoon by the time Mrs Finlay appeared and announced that
the ladies were finished and ready to head home.

Harper
glanced at the last box and lifted a candle to take a quick peek
inside only to curse silently when he found it completely
empty.

“
Nothing in there at all,” he announced with a
sigh.

Arrabella frowned at Mrs Finlay, who was one of the village’s
oldest residents. “Do you know what happened to the old parish
records from Hambley Wood church? They were moved here after the
fire but seem to have vanished.”

“
The ones that were moved here after the great fire years
back?”

Arrabella nodded, although wasn’t entirely sure which period
the ‘great fire’ related to. “Well, they stayed here for a while
and then were put into the Hambley Wood cellars. The old vicar
returned them to their rightful place in case anyone needed them,
dear. Why do you ask?”

“
We just need some information out of them, that’s all,”
Arrabella replied obliquely.

She was
aware that their quest had drawn the interest of the ladies, but
none of them seemed as though they wanted to challenge the
inappropriateness of Arrabella being in the crypt, alone, with such
a charmingly handsome man, and for that she was extremely
grateful.

“
I am sorry,” she sighed to Harper later that afternoon when
they were on their way back to Hambley Wood. “I feel as though I
have taken you on a wild goose chase.”

“
Nonsense,” Harper replied quickly. He would have preferred
not to have spent the last day trawling through dusty boxes, but he
didn’t regret taking the opportunity to spend some more time alone
with Arrabella. “You can only go by what you are told.”

“
I know, but I should have asked someone who knew Moldton
church’s history a bit better, shouldn’t I? I feel as though I have
wasted your time.”

In spite
of the fact that they were in the middle of a country lane, Harper
drew the curricle to stop and turned sideways on his seat to face
her. “This has been, by far, the most interesting adventure I have
had for a while and I don’t regret a moment of it.”

Arrabella lifted her brows sceptically and made no attempt to
keep the doubt off her face.

He
grinned unrepentantly and stroked a finger down her cheek. “I have
rather enjoyed myself.”

She was
still trembling by that single touch when he picked up the reins
and clicked the horse into motion again.

“
Is that Joseph?” She asked several minutes later when she
caught sight of a man stalking across the field toward them. Even
from several feet away she could see the dark scowl on his face.
“He doesn’t look very happy.”

Harper
frowned at his brother and read the anger in the way his brother
practically stomped across the rough ground. He considered calling
a greeting, but Joseph didn’t look up or appear to notice that
there was anyone nearby.

“
There is something going on with him at the moment, but I
don’t know what it is.” He realised then that he hadn’t paid his
brother the visit he had intended to make yesterday. With being
locked in the crypt and protecting Arrabella last night it had
slipped his mind, but he resolved to drop by the farm at the
earliest opportunity. “I am going to go and pay him a visit and see
if I can get him to talk to me,” he sighed.

There
was little Arrabella could say to that. She didn’t have a long
enough acquaintance with him to pry into family business or put
forward her opinion on what he should do. For some reason, Joseph’s
behaviour seemed to make it more important that they find the
information about Harper’s true birth parents as quickly as
possible. Was that what was wrong with Joseph? Was he worried that
Harper was no longer his brother?

She was
deep in thought by the time Harper pulled the curricle to a stop
outside the vicarage. As soon as her feet touched the floor she
glanced up at him. “I am going to take a look in the cellar while
it is still daylight,” she declared firmly. “There is no time like
the present.”

If she
was honest, she felt guilty that she had taken him on a fool’s
errand over to Moldton, when the register he wanted was right on
her doorstep. She dreaded the thought of going into the church
cellar; it was as bad as the crypt in Moldton, but they wouldn’t
find the information if she didn’t face her fears and go down
there. It seemed the least she could do to make amends for two
wasted days of futile searching.

“
I am coming too,” he replied with a nod.

“
I am going to get something to eat first,” she added softly.
“Would you care to join me? Then we can head over to the cellars
and see if we can find that record you need.”

The
heady scent of meat and gravy that emanated from the vicarage
kitchen made his decision for him. His stomach growled in
anticipation and was loud enough to make Arrabella smile. With a
rueful grin he stood back and waved his arm toward the
house.

“
After you.”

It was
mid-afternoon by the time they made their way to the church. As
soon as they were inside, Arrabella took a moment to lock the outer
door. Harper searched the church, and checked the locks on the
windows and doors before he helped her gather the many bottles and
candles as they could hold and carried them down to the cellar.
They wedged the cellar door open with a heavy oak desk that was
usually used to sign the registers. Moving it made so much noise
that nobody would be able to close the door without alerting them,
even if they could get into the church. All too soon, Arrabella
found herself standing beneath a church for the third time in two
days. Now that the place was so well lit, the presence of twelve
large, neatly stacked boxes in the far corner of the large square
room became evident.

She
gasped when she saw them. “This is it,” she whispered and rushed
over to lift the lid off one of the boxes.

Her eyes
grew round as she read the faded gold lettering: Hambley Wood
Parish. Births, Deaths and Marriages. She lifted two heavy volumes
out and handed one to Harper. The yellowed pages didn’t look
promising and she was unsurprised when he rifled through the pages
and shook his head, but there were enough boxes to assure them that
the one they were after must be there. Arrabella checked the book
she held before she carefully placed it on the floor at her
feet.

“
Are they all registers?” Harper demanded with a frown.
Although there were a lot of boxes, the books were huge. The thrill
of success actually made his hands shake and he had to take a
moment to calm his nerves before he repositioned the highest box
onto the floor and lifted the lid.

They
worked together in amiable silence for several moments. Arrabella
studied the book in her hands and rifled through the pages. Her
heart thumped loudly in her ears. She wasn’t sure whether to be
excited, relieved or sad.

This was
it. The book of records Harper was looking for. She wanted to ask
him which specific entry he was after, but couldn’t find the words.
It was far too intrusive. In spite of the closeness that had grown
so quickly between them, she was very aware that theirs was still a
new acquaintance and she didn’t feel altogether comfortable asking
him for personal facts.

“
Harper,” she whispered.

“
That’s it, isn’t it?”

He
sensed rather than saw Arrabella’s nod of confirmation. His gaze
fell to the heavy leather bound book in her hands and for a moment
he couldn’t speak. He slowly took it off her when she handed it to
him and looked down at it for several long moments. Now that he had
the information he wanted in his hands, he wasn’t entirely sure
whether he wanted to know. After all, he had absolutely no
intention of taking either the title, or the wealth that the
Cavendish brothers had said was waiting for him. Did it really
matter whether Agatha was his birth mother, or some unnamed woman
called Alice? He had been raised in a loving family, in a house
that had been a home. He could look back on his childhood with
fondness and with no hint of regret. Were facts and figures all
that important?