The Duke's Dilemma (12 page)

‘I’m that sorry, miss, I didn’t know you was
going to stop, I do beg your pardon, I didn’t mean to ... ‘

‘It’s not your fault, Meg. Kindly give me your
arm and assist me up.’ She scarcely managed to form the words, to sound normal,
and not alarm the girl further. She prayed whatever had happened to the women,
God grant the men, and especially Ralph, were still somewhere on the premises.

*

Ralph paused in the grand hall. He wanted to go outside and hit someone,
he’d rarely been so angry. What was the matter with the chit? Couldn’t she see
he was offering her everything? He was a duke, wealthy, and in good health. Why
had she turned him down so comprehensively?

He had to get out, that the walls were closing in on him. He took the
stairs three at a time and charged into his apartment. Although Robin was
officially his valet, since this nonsense had started he had reverted to being
his second-in-command and was fully occupied elsewhere.

Miss Bird had arranged for a girl to take care of his clothes, rooms and
personal needs. He had intended to shout for her, but he’d not yet discovered
her name. For some reason she always scuttled about like a terrified mouse on
his appearance.

His chambers were empty. The door to the bed chamber was open and both
fires almost burnt out. He nodded, presumably she’d run down to fetch more
fuel. Then he noticed the coal bucket and the log basket were half full. He
frowned. Where was the wretched girl?

He wasn’t going to wait around. He was too impatient. He found his heavy
coat, beaver hat, and gloves. Ramming his arms in he buttoned it up quickly.
Then with his hat and gloves in one hand, he headed out.
 
As he passed the dwindling fires he paused.
It wouldn’t do any good to let them go out, the girl would have to rake out the
ashes and start again and his rooms would become cold. He threw his hat and
gloves on to a side table and grabbing the coal bucket, hurled the contents on
to the fires. He then added several logs to each. Satisfied that both would
burn for several hours without attention, he snatched back his belongings and
ran downstairs.

He decided to leave by the front door. Slamming back the heavy bolts
would allow him to spend some of his pent-up fury. He would like to go back
into the study shake some sense into Hester. His mouth twitched. No, what he
wanted to do was kiss her senseless, bury his face in her shining hair, make
love to her until she could refuse him nothing.

The last bolt slid back and turning the handle, he pulled the door open,
expecting to be deluged with an icy drift that had built up against the door
during the blizzard. But one of the men had cleared the front steps and the way
down to the turning circle was free of snow. He glanced up at the sky; the snow
had stopped, the clouds were moving away. The sun would be out soon.

He walked round the house pausing to admire the group of snowmen they’d
built. He had believed they’d reached an understanding, that she returned his
regard, how could he have got matters so wrong?

The snow had blown across the gravel drive and piled up against the trees
that edged it. He would walk to the gates and back, get some much-needed fresh
air and exercise and not have to struggle through snow up to his knees in order
to do so. He would also investigate the matter of the floating lights Hester
had mentioned. It had to be smugglers and no doubt he’d see evidence of ponies
or donkeys on the path when he looked.

He’d walked almost a mile when he spotted a break in the snowdrifts; there
was a gap in the trees and the snow had funnelled through. This was the place
he needed. He stopped, swearing volubly. That girl had addled his brains; any
evidence of free traders would have been obliterated by the morning’s blizzard
so there was little point in him going to look.

He turned and begun to stride steadily towards the hall. The sun came out
as he’d predicted bathing the ancient building in yellow light, making its
dozens of windows sparkle; it looked attractive and not at all like a place
where people disappeared mysteriously.

 
Not ready to go back inside, he
walked round to the stables; he would check how the sick horse was doing.
Hester’s man Tom had worked wonders; this was a valuable beast and it looked as
though, against all odds, it might recover.

The cobbled yard was strangely quiet and he couldn’t hear the women
hanging about in the kitchen. Surely they should be preparing the
midday
meal of soup and pasties by
now? The wooden doors of the stable block were shut tight as one would expect.
He pulled one open and stepped inside. Twenty horses munched contentedly in
their stalls; the place warm and redolent of dung, hay and horseflesh.

At the far end were two men completing their duties clearing the last of
the stalls. They saw him watching and touched their caps politely. He couldn’t
see Robin, Tom or any of the other men. They had to be about somewhere, perhaps
these two would know.

He strolled the length of the building, pausing occasionally to pull a
silky ear or stoke a velvety nose; he reached the far end where the men, one
wielding the shovel the other pushing the wheelbarrow, were waiting.

‘Where are my men? In fact, where is everyone else?’

The taller of the two men, Ralph recognized him was the one who’d
volunteered to accompany him earlier. ‘I don’t rightly know,
yer
grace. We’ve been busy here. I reckon they could be in
the tack room. I’ve not seen them for an hour or more.’

Ralph nodded his thanks and headed back to the centre of the building,
turned down through the narrow passage that led to the half a dozen storage
rooms. He could hear the sound of raised voices. Pushing open the door he found
Tom and Robin arguing and both turned guiltily at his entrance. Robin, who had
been speaking, faltered to a halt.

‘What’s going on here?’

The men exchanged glances but it wasn’t Robin who replied, but Tom Clark.

‘It’s like this, your grace, they’ve gone. All the women and all but two
of the men. They collected their belongings and left as soon as the snow
stopped.’

Ralph stared from one to the other. ‘For God’s sake, why? They’ve got a
soft billet here, good food, comfortable quarters and generous remuneration.
What could have possessed them to walk out in weather like this?’

Again it was Tom answered. ‘Ghosts, sir. First Miss Culley and the rest
disappear, then the gates were barred with no-one here to do it. Then, the two
men who tried to capture Polly – remember one of them vanished into thin air. I
didn’t think much about it at the time, but I did wonder where he’d gone.’

Ralph was beginning to understand. ‘Are you telling me that that they’ve
left because they believe Neddingfield Hall is possessed by evil spirits or
some such thing?’

‘I am, your grace. Last night several of the men saw lights floating in
the woods, winking on and off, and heard ghostly moaning and clanking. James
disappearing without trace, that was too much. They decided they’d rather be
home and hungry, then here with spirits and the like.’

Ralph looked at Robin. ‘And you? How do you feel about all this? I don’t
hear you denying the existence of the supernatural.’

His man flushed and for the first time since he’d known him Robin failed
to meet his eyes. ‘Generally, I don’t believe in this sort of thing, your
grace. But now, I’m not so sure.’

Chapter
Twelve

Ralph turned his back in
disgust
, how could this most
reliable be having doubts at such a crucial time? Ghosts had nothing to do with
what was happening here, humankind must be behind it.

‘Good God! Don’t be a fool, Robin. Don’t let
what’s happening unnerve you; I need you strong, beside me.’

He heard shuffling feet and then received a
light tap on his arm. He glanced over his shoulder to find Clark standing there
not Robin,
he
had left the room.

‘You can’t blame him, your grace. What’s been
going on up here isn’t natural and he was with you when you went to look for
young James; he’s told us how there was no evidence anywhere of other horses or
anyone else who could have spirited him away.’

‘Then why are you here, Tom Clark? Do you not
support the theory that we’re being haunted?’

‘Whatever I
believe’s
no matter, your grace. I’d lay my life down for Miss Frobisher any day, and
ghosts, witches - whatever it might be - I’m staying put until the ... until
the matter’s resolved.’

‘Good man. Will Robin leave?’

Tom laughed. ‘Leave? Not likely! He’ll not
leave. He’s mighty afraid of what’s going on, but he’ll stay to the end like
me. Your old coachman, Fred, went with the others, but to try and persuade them
to return. He’ll be back and stay put with us.’

‘I doubt the last two men from town will feel
the same way.’ Had Robin gone to try and persuade them to stay?

‘They must move into the house, we have to
remain together. I shall close down the main part of the Hall and everyone must
use the servants’ quarters.’

With only a handful of staff it would be
impossible to keep the Hall warm anyway. The matter decided, he went to look
for Robin and the two remaining men; he could hear them talking amongst the
stalls. To his surprise both the men greeted him with a grin.

 
‘Take
more than a few spooks to send us packing,
yer
grace.
We’ll stay; between us we can take care of these nags for you. We’ll not need
to move into the ’
ouse
; we’ll sleep down ‘ere with the
’
orses
.’

‘I’ll double your wages, of course. I insist
you move into the house, all of you. I want to know where everybody is at all
times.’

The two men exchanged looks and nodded.
 
‘We’ll be getting our belongings and come
across right away. The fire will ’
ave
to be doused.
We’ll bring Fred’s things as well, shall we, your grace? This lot are done, if
the snow clears we can turn the farm ’
orses
out.’

*

Now that Meg, Polly, Birdie and herself were
safely established in the kitchen, Hester felt more sanguine. There was no
sound from the yard but the stables were too far away to be able to hear
anything from here. Some of the men remained and she was certain Ralph would
not have deserted her. He was a soldier, he’d never leave his post.

 
‘I see
that Cook has prepared the vegetables for the soup so all we need to do is put
on the pot and cook it. Even I can manage that. Meg, could you see how much
bread we have in the pantry?’

Polly went with her, the two having decided
that as long as they were staying they wouldn’t the each other’s side. Hester
couldn’t blame them – she was determined to stay close to Birdie.

Her cheeks
coloured
as she thought there was someone who would be only too happy to hold her. She
suppressed a smile; being held by Ralph would be more dangerous than remaining
on her own. What had recently passed between must be put to one side, she was
prepared to do so and prayed he would have forgotten his anger at her rebuff.

The soup was bubbling on the range, fresh pasties
warm from the oven when she heard the unmistakable sound of the back door
opening. All four women froze. Then she relaxed.

‘It’s Lord Colebrook and some others coming in.
Thank God, we’re not entirely alone.’

 
Ralph
appeared in the door, behind him were Tom, Robin, his coachman, and two stable
hands carrying their bundles. His smile made her knees weaken.

‘I see you know what’s happened, sweetheart.
Miss Bird, can you find accommodation for the outside men? Give them the rooms
the women vacated.’

My goodness! Not only had he forgiven her he
was larding his remarks with endearments and she wasn’t the only one to notice
this.

Birdie, who had been kneading the next batch of
bread, raised her eyebrows before wiping her hands on her apron. ‘Of course,
your grace. Miss Frobisher has already suggested
we
move in together.’

Hester watched her friend hurry away and heard
her talking to the men outside; the sound of heavy boots on the backstairs
echoing round the kitchen as they were taken up to their new quarters. She
gestured to Ralph that they walk to the end of the kitchen, away from the
others standing around the range warming themselves.

‘We can’t manage this house with only five men
and two girls. I think we should all eat in here as well as sleeping in the
servants’ wing.’

He nodded. ‘My thoughts exactly. At least this
way we can keep warm.’ Raising his hand he tenderly brushed away the lock of
hair that had escaped from its place but he said nothing; he didn’t need to,
his expression said it all.

After lunch they began the process of moving
belongings. The outside men took off their boots and joined in, happy to carry
and fetch as required. By the time dark fell everything had been arranged to
Hester’s satisfaction.

‘I don’t know what we shall eat this evening,
Birdie; you know I’m not skilled in the culinary arts.’

Her friend smiled. ‘I have thought of that, my
dear, I shall take over the role of cook. My repertoire is limited, but I can
make bread, pastry, soup, and roast meat reasonably well. Between us I’m sure
we shall not starve.’

‘It will be strange eating with the staff, and
I’m sure they will find it as uncomfortable as I shall.’ Hester continued to
polish the silver cutlery as she spoke, laying it out on the scrubbed oak table
neatly.

‘Good heavens! My dear girl, we shall not eat
together, and the staff shall certainly not use the best cutlery.’

‘Then how shall we arrange it?’

‘Lord Colebrook and yourself shall dine first;
I intend to spread a cloth on this table and bring in the silver candlesticks
from the dining room. When you’ve finished you retire to the new sitting room
upstairs and then the rest of us can eat.’

‘I don’t think it’s right that you have to eat
with the servants- you’re my friend.’ Hester saw Birdie was about to protest
and forestalled her. ‘It’s alright, I understand. The staff need you to keep
them cheerful.’ She stared across to the window. ‘It gets dark so early. I’ll
not feel safe until all the shutters are closed, the hangings pulled and the
doors locked and bolted. Once everybody is inside perhaps I can relax.’

‘The men are out settling the horses and
milking the cows. The duke told us they would be back before it was fully dark.
You must try not to worry, my dear, or you will come down with one of your
megrims.’

‘At least we don’t have to dress for dinner
anymore. We should look ridiculous in our silk finery sitting at the kitchen
table.’

‘I shall make it look more formal, my dear,
never fret.’

The noise of the men returning interrupted
their conversation. Hester removed herself upstairs and left the kitchen to
Ralph and the other men. She wasn’t sure how she would react to spending so
much time alone with a man, who, in spite of her initial reservations, she was
now beginning to find irresistible.

*

It was a strange experience sitting opposite
Ralph in the kitchen, sparkling crystal and the best silver laid on the white
cloth as though they were eating in the grand dining-room, with the heavy
warmth of her dog’s head across her feet. Jet was now sleeping inside as
everyone knew he was as good as any man if it came to a fight.

 
Meg and
Polly were serving dinner, Birdie had retired to the servants’ hall and was
organizing the table for when the staff ate later on.

‘Ralph, do you think the horses will be safe
out there?’
 
She was concerned about
Thunder.

‘I don’t see why not, we know these people have
their own nags, although God knows where they are, why should they want to take
ours? Nobody’s going anywhere at the moment, there’s too much snow.’

‘That’s another thing; it puzzles me all this
has happened as though planned. How could anyone have known we would be snowed
in?’ She saw his expression change and a wariness in his eyes, an uncertainty
she hadn’t seen before. She swallowed her mouthful and it stuck somewhere in her
chest. She knew why he looked that way. No one could possibly have known it was
going to snow unless they were not … not of this world.

She dropped her cutlery on the plate. Polly and
Meg were standing by the scullery door, out of earshot, but in the quiet of the
kitchen the dropped silverware on porcelain was unmistakable.

Hester lost her appetite. She couldn’t force
another morsel down however tasty. She mustn’t let her fear show; her duty was
to maintain a brave face; somehow she forced her head up and bit her lips to
stop them trembling.

‘I’m feeling unwell, your grace. I fear I might
have eaten something that disagrees with me. Pray excuse me.’ Hester pushed
back her chair and, clasping a napkin to her mouth, hurried out but forgot to
pick up a candlestick to light her way.

The corridor was warmer than before; Ralph had
ordered the fires at either end be set and the wall sconces flickered brightly.
There was the murmur of voices further down – everyone was safe inside. She was
halfway across the corridor when an arm encircled her waist.

‘Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You’ve eaten nothing
the rest of us haven’t had, what has upset you?’

Hester felt her resistance draining away. Why
should she fight this attraction? There was evil stalking them, she could feel
it gathering around her and they might both be spirited away by tomorrow. She
didn’t want to go to meet her Maker still unsure what being a woman really
meant.

She stepped closer, into the warmth of his
embrace, resting her cheek against his shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent.
He needed no further encouragement and his arms closed tight about her and for
the first time since she’d arrived at Neddingfield Hall she felt secure. They
stood entwined for a moment and then common sense reasserted itself and she
pushed gently at his chest and was released immediately.

She left one hand there as she looked up. ‘We
need to talk, Ralph, but here is not the place, we might be living in close
proximity with our staff but some things are still best kept private, don’t you
agree?’

His eyes burned into hers and his heart was
thundering beneath her spread fingers. ‘Wait here, sweetheart, we need a
candle. We’ll break our necks if we try to ascend the stairs without one.’

He returned and with his arm around her shoulders
guided her up, holding a single candle aloft to light the way. She hardly
registered the journey, her head was full of images of forbidden pleasures. Her
mama had told her what took place between a man and woman in the marriage bed,
had told her this was a duty she would have to endure. Hester had always
thought this side of matrimony would not be to her liking.

Indeed, she realized, as they reached their
destination, her knowledge of the vastly unpleasant activities involved in
becoming a wife had added to her determination never to marry. When she was
with Ralph she became confused. She wanted to know what it would be like to run
her fingers through his thick hair, feel his lips on hers, have him caress her.

Ralph continued to urge her in the direction of
his
parlour
but some instinct made her pause. ‘I
think it would be best if we remained here. This is to be our sitting room in
future. See, there are two day-beds and several armchairs around the fire; we
‘ll be quite comfortable.’

She slipped out of his loose grasp and walked
purposefully towards a small curved armchair. If she sat in that she would be
safe - there was room within its arms for only one. As she reached the rug that
had been spread across the scrubbed boards, he was beside her, blocking her
path.

‘Shall we sit on the
chaise-longue
, my dear? It’s nearer to the fire and away from the
draft of the door.’

She hesitated a moment too long and before she
could refuse she was being guided to the
 
piece of furniture he’d indicated. She had no option, and unless she
made an unseemly fuss, she must sit with him.

She settled gracefully, crossing her ankles
demurely and placing her hands in her lap. She kept her eyes lowered, finding
his piercing stare unnerving. He arrived next to her but kept a seemly
distance, leaving almost two feet between them. Her pulse began to slow, wild
thoughts of wantonness dispersed; she was once more in control of the
situation.