To Have and to Hold (6 page)

“Good
evening.”
 
Peter murmured making no move
to bow or adhere to the social etiquette, not caring if the Magistrate
understood or not.
  
Dominic nodded
brusquely.

“I understand
you knew the woman.”
 
The Magistrate was
momentarily lost for a name and made do with a small nod in the direction of
the dark soil.

“Yes, she was my
sister.
 
I understand you found one item
upon her body?”
 
Peter’s voice was harsh
in the silence of the heavy air around them causing the Magistrate to shiver at
the menacing threat held in the husky timbre.

“Y-yes.”
 
Visibly shaken, he hastily produced the
length of necklace that was given to him. “It was the only thing we found of
worth that could mean something.
 
Not
sure what I should be making of it being found in such a way.”
 
He lapsed into silence as both men stared in
horror at the necklace he held dangling from his clenched fist.
 
“Do you recognise it?”

Dominic cursed
the trembling in his hand as he reached out to touch the shimmering chain of
her beloved gift and knew deep within his soul that he had lost her
forever.
 
Abruptly, he turned away.
 
The tight knot of emotion lodged in his
throat threatened to choke him.

“That’s
Isobel’s.”
 
He heard Peter’s husky
response but couldn’t bring himself to turn around.
  
“Lady Isobel Davenport, my sister.”
 
Peter’s voice was devoid of emotion as it
swirled around the trio.
 
“She should be
resting in the family crypt.
 
With your
assistance, I shall arrange for her to be relocated forthwith.”
 

Dominic fought
the urge to punch something.
 
Or someone.
 
He took a
deep breath and with every ounce of willpower he possessed attempted keep his
voice calm and impassive.
 

“What do you
know about the circumstances of her death?”
 
Although his voice was quiet, the intonation was deadly.
 
Not give him the answers he needed, and he
could most certainly become a ruthless adversary.

The Magistrate
shivered.
 
“Nothing much I am
afraid.
 
Nobody seems to know
anything.
 
I have questioned the farmer
who found her extensively.
 
She wasn’t
there the afternoon before but sometime between dusk and dawn, she–“he paused
not wanted to incur the taller man’s wrath.
 

“They dumped
her.”
 
Dominic finished for him as he
studied the shorter man closely.
 
Something warned him that he wasn’t being entirely truthful, and they
weren’t getting all of the facts.

“There were no
tracks at all?
 
Nothing?
 
No strangers in the village or the pub either
before or afterwards?”
 
Dominic didn’t
try to keep the disbelief out of his voice.
 
He wanted the man to know that he sensed
something was amiss.
 

Warily, the
small man shook his head.
 
“Nothing I’m
afraid, Sir.”
 

Dominic wanted
to push further but held the words back as Peter shifted uncomfortably beside
him.
 
He frowned slightly at Peter’s
warning look and remained silent. Frustration clawed and burned in his
stomach.
  

Dominic couldn’t
bear to hear any more as the men began to discuss the movement of the body and
took several steps away from them, disappearing into the encroaching gloom for
a few private moments in which to compose himself.

His abrupt
departure caused the Magistrate to jump in shock as he scanned the swirling
mists that had settled around them warily.
 
Like a ghost, the big man simply vanished without a sound.
 
With a shiver, he turned to the somewhat
reassuring bulk of the man beside him.
 
“I will give you my direction.
 
Should you need any further assistance please do not hesitate.”
 
At the other man’s abrupt nod, he quickly
took his leave and with a curt bow spun on his heel and made for his curricle
as fast as his heels could carry him.
 

Several minutes
later with a final lingering look at the grave site, both men turned and made
their own way carefully around the assembled gravestones surrounding the old
Norman church.
 

“Do
you think she was trying to get to get to Melton when Rupert caught up with
her?”
 
Dominic murmured unable to keep
the whisper of hope from his voice.
 

Knowing
his friend well, Peter heard the unspoken question. “I think she may have been,
but we do know she didn’t get there.
 
God
why Dominic?
 
Why kill her?” Pain and
anger laced his
voice as Peter raged.
 
“Wasn’t it bad
enough that Rupert had already tried to sell her to that bloody scoundrel
DeLisle
?
 
Why kill
her?”
 

Images
and thoughts of her final moments swirled around in his head, many too hideous
to contemplate.
 
What had they done to
her that they needed to hide?
 
Isobel was
undoubtedly beautiful and clever.
 
He
also knew from the long hours he had spent listening to Peter recount their
childhood that she had a wild and slightly reckless side that once revealed was
difficult to contain.
  
He too had
encountered her wilful streak that had at the time unmanned him and
strengthened his desire to take her to wife as soon as possible. Was it this
wild side Rupert had been unable to vanquish?
 
Had her own stubborn refusal to bow down to him led her to her
death?
 

Solidarity,
and silence, settled between the two men as they rode through the night.
 
Tall and proud, clearly of military bearing their
presence was so blatantly menacing even the gang of ruthless highwaymen lurking
in the bushes watched them pass without conflict.

The
Magistrate had also watched both men as they slowly disappeared into the
swirling fog shrouding the evening air.
 
Shaking his head he puffed out a deep sigh of relief as they finally
disappeared into the gloom.
 
His collar
felt uncomfortably tight as he considered the events of the evening and the
possible disaster narrowly averted.

“That
was close.”
 
He murmured quietly to
himself.
  
“Very close.”
 
He frowned as he clambered aboard his
curricle.
 
He could only hope that both
men would soon depart from the area, and life could return to normal.
 
He needed them out of the area, before they
discovered the truth.

Easing
his curricle onto the rutted track, he turned his horse thankfully in the
opposite direction towards home.
 
He had
a strange sense of foreboding that tonight wasn’t the last he would see of
them.
 
Shaking off the pervading sense of
doom, he carefully shot the retreating backs one last worried glance over his
shoulder before clicking his horse into a walk.
 

He
had made a promise to a friend a long time ago that he would take whatever
action necessary if he was called upon, and indeed, he had.
 
He could only hope that the actions he had
taken had been the right ones.
 
As he
trotted along doubts began to creep in and his involvement in events a month
ago suddenly didn’t seem so sound.
  
Well
intended or not.
 
The men’s obvious
distress upon confirming the identity of the gently bred woman had been a true
and honest reaction.
 
So why had he been
asked to secure the outcome he had?
 

Wishing
he had insisted on details of the current whereabouts, he pondered the
questions lurking in the back of his mind and the growing sense of unease about
the entire situation before he considered the wisdom of revealing the
truth.
 

As
he passed he glanced towards the small cross in the far corner of the darkening
graveyard, and the empty grave it marked.

“I don’t believe
he has told us everything, do you?”
 
Dominic asked raising a querying brow at Peter as they rode through the
darkness toward the soft glow of lights within the small village.

“No.
 
He is withholding something.”
 
Peter added considering the thickening fog
around them.
 

 
“Do you think he is an associate of
Rupert’s?
 
We know that Rupert was in the
area at the same time.
 
All the trails we
have followed so far lead him here at the right time.”
 
Thinking about the practicalities of what
might have happened at the moment was keeping him sane, Dominic thought.
 
He had to do something, or he might just go
quietly mad.
 
“We also know that he has
not been seen since.
 
He hasn’t been back
to any of his old haunts since the middle of last month.”

“When
Isobel was kidnapped.”
 
Peter’s breath
fogged out before him.
 
“Someone has got
to him, I am sure of it, but until we get more information on Sir Hubert
Williams, we need to be careful.”

“I
won’t give up on this Peter.”
 
Dominic
warned, “If he is involved in any of this, Magistrate or not he is as
duplicitous as your Uncle.”
 
The
underlying threat in his voice made the other man shiver.
 
“Both will pay for their crimes.”

CHAPTER THREE

He had forgotten
it was market day!
 
Cursing fluidly
beneath his breath he nodded brusquely at the familiar faces that heralded him
as he rode through the flurry of activity along the main street of Melton
Mowbray.
 
As one of Leicestershire’s
largest market towns Dominic eased his horse Brutus’ disquiet as he wove
through the milling throng amid the cacophony of quacking ducks, squealing pigs
and market traders shouting their wares amid the various traders.
 

He was oblivious
to the stench of manure, straw and unwashed bodies as he carefully meandered
listlessly through the milling crowds.
 
He didn’t really want to be there at all having only returned home
briefly to deal with several pressing estate matters before he was due to
depart for
Willowbrook
to witness the interment of
Isobel into the family crypt.
 

Sucking in a
deep breath, he fought the wave of bitter regret that surged through him as the
image of her beautiful face swam in front of him.
 
God how he missed her!
 
His heart clenched painfully in his chest until
the physical pain became so acute he wasn’t sure he could continue onwards
towards home.