Shades of the Past (20 page)

“Well, I just wasn’t expecting what happened next. One moment I was in my own time, the next I was looking on something from the past. I knew without being told that it was 1818, and that the roof fall I’d come upon was the one that had happened then, right down to the fact that it was actually two falls, with a fifty-foot stretch of safe rocky tunnel in between. There was a blue rowing boat trapped in the safe part, I could see it plainly because of a lighted lantern on its prow, just like Ron fixes lamps on his boats now. I recognized the boat, because it’s been rotting by the old watchman’s cottage ever since I can remember. It was found in the tunnel when the 1818 fall was cleared up and made good.”

“I know the boat you mean,” Laura said.

“Well, it had a young man and woman in it. He was fair-haired and rather frail-looking, and she was a dark little thing, like a young Audrey Hepburn. You remember her? She was a movie star?”

Stephen and Marianna, Laura thought with a start. “Er, yes, I know of Audrey Hepburn.”

He went on. “Anyway, they were looking up at where the hammering was coming from behind a patch of brickwork set into the tunnel roof. It was so foolish for them to be right under the hammering. Why the young man didn’t row to one side I’ll never know, but he didn’t. As it was, any falling bricks were bound to strike the boat. I wanted to call out, but couldn’t. The young woman—Marianna Deveril, I was to find out—was frightened and crying and the young man, her lover, Stephen Woodville, was standing up in the boat calling to whoever it was beyond the brickwork.
‘Help us, please,’
he kept saying.”

A cold shiver passed down Laura’s spine. She realized now that it was Stephen’s voice she’d heard. What were he and Marianna doing in the tunnel? As the question entered her head, the answer came. They’d eloped that way to throw off any pursuit, and no doubt Stephen’s coachman would have been waiting at the other portal. Blair had probably been only too right to suspect Stephen of never having gone to Cheltenham, but of making arrangements for the elopement instead. Marianna’s letter had, after all, merely confirmed her intent to stand by plans already made!

Gulliver continued. “The hammering was almost frantic. I found out later it was the mallets and chisels used to get through from the cave to rescue the two in the tunnel, although how anyone knew they were there I don’t know, because to all intents and purposes the collapse looked like one huge, solid fall, with no hint of a gap in the middle where someone could survive. Anyway, the bricks in the roof suddenly gave way, knocking Stephen into the water. Marianna screamed, and I was so shaken by what I’d seen that I suddenly pulled back sharply. I lost my balance, and rolled down backwards into my own time again. I didn’t hurt myself on this occasion.”

She looked anxiously at him. “You say Stephen was knocked into the water? Does—does that mean he drowned?”

“No, he didn’t, although I didn’t find out until I went back again.” He gave a wry smile. “I’d had the hell frightened out of me the first time, but it didn’t stop me returning. I just couldn’t keep away. I climbed up the roof collapse again to look over the top, and found myself in the past again, only this time I actually took part in it. There was no one there this time, just the boat, which was barely afloat because of being damaged by falling bricks. The lantern had gone out, but light filtered down through the hole from the cave above. A knotted rope dangled through it, right down to the boat, and was like a beckoning finger to me. I
had
to climb up it. So I swam to the boat, and climbed into the cave.”

Gulliver paused. “Well, up to this point I was still myself, but the moment I reached the cave I became my forebear, Harcourt the butler, dressed like him and completely dry, even though I’d just swum to the boat.”

Forebear! For the first time Laura wondered if she and her Regency counterpart were related. Why hadn’t it occurred to her before? It was so obvious. With a family name like Reynolds, her roots had to be British, so why couldn’t the other Laura have been one of her forebears?

“Other than that,” Gulliver continued, “the first thing that struck me was the cold that came from the ice stored there from the previous winter. It was insulated with straw, but by God the air was arctic!”

He paused again. “Anyway, it’s because I became the butler that I know about the layout of Deveril House and about the coat-of-arms being an allusion to Sir Blair Deveril and his wife, Celina. I knew all about everyone in the house, including Marianna and Stephen Woodville—who, incidentally, was only stunned by the bricks. I also knew that Laura Reynolds and Sir Blair were in love, for nothing above-stairs escapes the servants. I was in love too, with Dolly Frampton, and was cock-a-hoop because I’d just succeeded in winning her from Ha’penny Jack Sawyer.” He smiled a little. “All this knowledge flooded into me. It felt very strange, as if I were trapped inside this other person.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Laura said, recalling the first time it had happened to her.

“If it had just stopped there it would have been wonderful. I’d been having an adventure, but the moment I left the cave and went up into the house above, I was filled with a sense of foreboding , and the next minutes were so traumatic, I’ve never wanted to go back again.”

She gazed at him. “What happened?”

He drew a long breath. “Well, suddenly I wasn’t coming from the cave at all, but running frantically into the entrance hall from outside, where I’d left Dolly in a pony trap. I was running because she and I heard pistol shots as we returned along the back drive after a visit to her aunt in Cirencester. Sir Blair had given everyone the day off to go to the fair, as he did every year.”

“You heard pistol shots?” Her eyes widened.

“Yes, and we could tell they came from the main house, and so I took the liberty of driving around to the front entrance. Not a thing a butler would do lightly, I can assure you. There was no one around, but I knew Sir Blair, Marianna Deveril, Stephen Woodville, and Laura Reynolds were still in the house, so I shouted out to them and began to run up the staircase, but as I reached the top I saw…I saw a man lying in a pool of blood. He’d been shot through the heart.”

Laura’s breath caught. Please don’t let it have been Blair...

“I couldn’t see who he was because his head was twisted around away from me, as if his neck had been broken when he fell. And there was so much blood… As I could say for certain was that he was a gentleman. It could have been either Sir Blair or Stephen Woodville. Or someone else entirely. It was impossible to say, especially as I was so horrified and frightened that I stumbled backward and began to fall down the staircase…except I wasn’t on the stairs any more, but back in the tunnel. I fell heavily down to my boat, and struck it so hard that it capsized and I did my spine a terrible injury from which it has never healed. I was there for hours before Ron Sawyer realized I was missing and raised the alarm, and I’ve been in this wheelchair since then. Until now I’ve closed my mind to it all. I think that’s why nothing else like that has happened to me. One has to
want
to go back, as you do because you love Blair Deveril. You
are
in love with him, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m in love with him, but from what you’ve just said, he might be the dead man at the top of the staircase. Did you see or hear anyone else?”

“No, and as I’ve never been back, and there are no records, I don’t know anything else. Deveril House is still cloaked in mystery. No one knows what happened to those who lived there, or how half the house disappeared. Something catastrophic took place in 1818, and the next record isn’t until the middle of the century.”

“I
have
to go back again,” Laura declared, only too aware that it couldn’t be guaranteed.

“The link seems much stronger for you than it ever was for me, so I’m sure you will go back, although whether that’s a good thing or not is another matter.”

Something occurred to her. “It might be January here, but when I go back, it’s May, Mercury Fair time, and the servants have yet to have their annual day off. So for me the dead man, whoever he is, is going to die soon. Oh, Gulliver, I feel so
trapped
here in the future, and so want to go back and stay back that I can hardly bear it…”

“My advice, for what it’s worth, is that you hightail it home to the States. What I saw in Deveril House was a terrible thing, and you ought not to be mixed up in it.”

“There’s nothing for me in the States now; it’s all here in 1818,” she added.

“Even if Sir Blair Deveril is killed? It really might be him, you know, for the official records and histories give no information about how or when he died.”

She closed her eyes. “Yes, even if it’s him.” She got up slowly. “I—I think I’ll return to the hotel now.”

“I apologize for any upset I’ve caused you, but you did insist I tell what I know.”

“I know.”

He took her hand and squeezed it. “I hope it goes well for you, my dear, and if you need to talk more, you know where I am.”

“Thank you, Gulliver,” she replied, and impulsively bent to kiss his cheek. Then she hurried to the door, anxious to get out into the fresh air to think a little.

But as she crossed the threshold, she was plunged into the past again, wearing her riding clothes, and being confronted by a grim and frightening figure in black mourning gauze blocking her path.

“He’s mine, not yours, you whore!” Estelle breathed. Her veil was flung back, revealing a haggard face that was twisted with jealousy, and her hatred was so fierce it was tangible.

Chapter Seventeen

Laura pressed fearfully back against the door jamb, dismayed to find herself suddenly confronted by the strange woman she believed to be Lady Lowestoft.

Estelle took a step nearer. “He’ll never be yours, he’s mine in the eyes of God and the world!”

“I—I don’t what you’re talking about.” Laura realized her meeting with Miles in the woods had been seen after all. She glanced around, but there was no one else near; even the barges moored along the canal seemed deserted. Where was everyone? Suddenly she wished she hadn’t come out alone like this as a distraction while Blair searched for Marianna and Stephen. He didn’t yet knew, as she did, that they were trapped in the tunnel.

Estelle’s wild eyes flashed. “Innocence is a grace you haven’t known in a very long time, as is conscience, for it constantly slips your mind that Miles is my husband, not yours!”

So it
was
Lady Lowestoft! Laura pressed further back against the jamb. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted, glancing desperately around again, for the woman was clearly deranged.

“You know full well, whore.”

“Whore?” Laura’s eyes cleared. “You—you surely don’t believe that Sir Miles and I are... ?”

“Lovers? Oh, I know you are. He swore you were dead, but I knew I couldn’t trust him.”

“Dead?” Laura stared at her.

“He claimed you fell from your horse, but here you are, as brazen and sinful as all your kind, flaunting your body and your red hair like a common harlot!”

Laura was shaken. The woman thought she was
Celina
, and from her words it seemed Miles and Blair’s dead wife must have been lovers!

The familiar sound of the spaniels interrupted the silence, and Laura turned with relief to see the dogs accompanying Blair as he rode toward the inn. Estelle saw him too, and without another word gathered her gloomy skirts to hurry away. Her carriage must have been drawn up alongside the inn, for a moment later Laura heard the whip crack, then the coachman flung the team forward and the vehicle rattled away along the road.

Laura closed her eyes for a moment. She didn’t know what Estelle might have done if Blair hadn’t appeared, maybe nothing more than curse her with hell and damnation, but at least the woman’s constant presence was explained. She thought Miles was seeing Celina again. But one mystery still remained—why had Celina taken Miles as her lover? Unless, of course, she’d been blackmailed… Yes, that was always a possibility where Miles was concerned, for it was his stock-in-trade.

The spaniels bounded up to Laura, and after dismounting Blair gazed in astonishment after the dangerously swaying carriage. “Who in God’s name was that?”

She faced him. “Lady Lowestoft. She thought I was Celina,” she said quietly, wondering what his reaction would be, for it seemed likely that Celina, not the necklace, was the main reason for the dislike between Miles and him.

He met her eyes. “An easy enough mistake to make under the circumstances.”

“She made it plain she despises the very sound of Celina’s name.”

He didn’t respond.

“Blair, why does she hate Celina so much?” Laura couldn’t dampen her curiosity.

“It’s of no consequence now.”

“But—”

He broke in. “I’d rather not discuss it, Laura. It’s in the past, and I wish it to remain so.”

She had to fall silent. Besides, what did Lady Lowestoft’s unbalanced suspicions matter when Blair might soon be the man Harcourt would find lying dead at the top of the staircase at Deveril House?

Blair had already put Miles’ wife from his mind. “There seems to be no trace of Marianna and Stephen, they’ve just vanished. By God, if I had him here now, I’d tear his fortune-hunting heart out!”

Laura lowered her eyes. She knew exactly where to find the runaways, but couldn’t possibly know by any normal means, so how could she tell him about it? If only she could think of some way to—

Someone shouted across the meadows, and they turned to see Harcourt riding furiously toward them. Blair caught his horse’s bridle as he reined in. “What is it? Have you news?”

The butler’s face was pale. “Yes, Sir Blair, but I fear it isn’t good.”

“Tell me, man!”

“Late last night the canal watchman came home the worse for wear, and saw Miss Marianna and Mr. Woodville in a boat going toward the tunnel. They disappeared inside and not long afterward the tunnel caved in.”

Blair stared at him. “Are you saying... ?” He couldn’t finish.