The Duke's Dilemma (16 page)

Robin and Tom were being given similar
treatment and the thuds as they fell beside him echoed eerily. There was a
faint glimmer of light filtering through the filthy material but not enough to
distinguish anything. Rough hands rolled him over and feigning unconsciousness
he was thrown backwards a second time. There was the faint shuffle of footsteps
as the men departed and then impenetrable darkness and thick silence.

Where was the dog? Why hadn’t he attacked?
There was nothing to do until his hands were free. He lay still. Had the men
with the lantern left? Alert to every sound, it became apparent there were more
than just Robin, Tom and himself held captive. Was it possible James and two
grooms were also here unhurt?

 
Although
he was tightly trussed, his fingers were able to reach down to his boot top in
which he’d slid a stiletto knife that he’d liberated whilst in Spain. Grasping
the hilt he pulled it out and began the laborious process of sawing against the
ropes that held him fast.

At last his hands and arms were free and
snatching the noisome sacking from his person he gratefully drew in air that
wasn’t tainted. He edged forward on his knees until his questing fingers touched
a shrouded shape. He slashed through the ropes that bound this man, certain
from the shape and smell that it was Tom.

‘Is that you, your grace? If you give me the
knife, I’ll release the rest of them. Do you know how many we’re up against?’

‘No, I’m going to
reconnoitre
.
When everyone’s free quarter the area and see if you can find the pistols. Do
it by touch alone, don’t light the lantern or make a sound.’

Leaving him to release of the others he dropped
to his stomach and shuffled forward on his elbows, uncomfortable but effective,
as it kept him below the eye line of anyone who might be watching.

His eyes became accustomed to the darkness;
there was a faint glimmer ahead so there must be a lantern burning. He continued
his painful progress until close enough to see there was a group of eight or
nine men standing round a brazier conversing in sibilant whispers. He squashed
himself against the wall and strained his ears. What he heard made his blood
run cold. These men had mistaken him for a servant. Fervently thinking his
Maker he was dressed in his oldest clothes and because of that he was still
breathing. The bastards were now going back to the Hall to murder Hester and
himself.

He’d begun to slowly reverse when, to his
horror, the men moved. Rolling sideways, his face and body pressed into the
earth, he prayed to remain unnoticed as the men hurried past.

Would his men be ready to attack or would they
lie, pretending to be constrained, until the men had passed? His life hung in
the balance and he didn’t even have his knife to protect himself.

The first three men past their lanterns held
aloft, leaving the ground in darkness. They must have been by his calculation
almost up to the side chamber in which his men were hiding when suddenly there
was the sound of a ghostly howling. The two men who were parallel with him
crashed into the men in front.

‘Bloody hell! It’s that noise again. I’m
beginning to think this bloody place is really ’
aunted
.’

The leader of the gang snarled. ‘Shut your
trap, Jones; it’s that bitch’s dog, I’ll slit it’s throat when I get my
bleeding ’
ands
on it. I reckon one of you stupid
bastards left that panel unlocked again.’

The men fell silent and resumed their progress
and Ralph knew he was safe – for the moment. He waited until he was sure he
couldn’t be heard by the two guards or the raiding party, then sprang to his
feet, racing to join his men.

‘Robin, you keep Seth and Robert with you and
deal with the guards; they’ll not be expecting an attack. James, I’m damn glad
to see you alive and well after your incarceration. You and Tom, come with me.
We have to stop them before they reach Miss Frobisher and the other women.’

Chapter Sixteen

Hester sat with her arm around Polly whilst
Birdie comforted Meg. She should try and say something uplifting, but all she
could think of was that Ralph was risking his life to save them all.

‘How long have they been gone, do you think?’

‘I heard the clock strike nine just after they
left and it hasn’t struck again, so it’s less than an hour, my dear.’

‘I’m not sure we should have locked ourselves
in your
parlour
, we
have no facilities in here.’
 
Too late
she realized it was a mistake to draw attention to their lack. Polly shifted
uncomfortably beside her; the girl needed to relieve herself. ‘I think it
should be safe enough for the two girls to go into your bed chamber if they
lock the door behind them.’

‘Very well, as the need’s urgent, I can see no
harm in it.’ Her companion stood up and ushered them to the door. ‘I’ll unbar
this and wait here until I hear you lock yourselves in next door. Do you
understand what you have to do?’

The girls nodded, too frightened to speak.
Polly had her arm around her friend; she was obviously the more courageous of
the two. ‘When you’re done, knock on the wall and we can let you back in.’ She
supposed it would have been more appropriate if they had used the pot first,
but their need at the moment was not desperate.

Ten minutes later the wall reverberated such
was the ferocity of the banging coming from the room. ‘Birdie, I’ll stand
behind our door whilst you collect them.’

She was poised in the half open door way when she
heard her dog barking somewhere downstairs. He sounded frantic, even from this
distance she could hear his paws scrabbling on the wood. Without stopping to
think, she deserted her post and raced down stairs. If Jet had returned alone
something catastrophic had occurred. Her dog would not have left Ralph unless
he’d good reason to do so.

The animal didn’t pause to receive her petting
but tore up the stairs and vanished into the temporary sitting-room. She
gathered her skirts and prepared to run after him. The wall sconces made the
stairwell bright as day, it would be obvious where they were if she left them
burning. She blew out each one as she ascended hoping they would have cooled
and the distinctive aroma have dispersed before their enemy arrived.

‘Miss Frobisher, your dog’s gone right past us,
I think he’s scratching at the attic doors,’ Polly told her.

‘Quickly, take your shawls and come with me.
Jet wants us to follow him; something terrible has happened and we need to
hide. Close the doors to both the rooms. Be quick! We haven’t a second to
lose.’

Knowing the lives of the others depended on her
courage and intelligence she led them forward, pushing her despair aside. If
they could find somewhere in the depths of the attics to hide it would give
them time and Ralph might still return to save them.

‘Bring candles and a tinderbox, girls.’ Birdie
grabbed Meg’s arm and half dragged her towards the staircase that led up to the
attics. Hester was glad Polly needed no second bidding; the girl snatched up
two candlesticks and rammed the tinderbox in to her apron pocket before joining
the others at the stairwell.

‘All right, Jet, we’re coming.’ She opened the
door and the dog padded ahead of them, calmer now they were following him.
Holding her candle in front, she tried to see where the animal wished them to
go. He worked his way through piles of debris, old chests, broken chairs and a
miscellany of unwanted items.

She stopped and looked around. ‘Look, Miss
Bird, take the girls and go behind that row of trunks. If you crouch down I’m
certain you’ll be invisible.’ They didn’t argue, just hurried over and vanished
into the gloom.

‘Excellent. I can’t see you; I’m going to hide
with Jet. Whatever happens, whatever you hear or see, don’t come out of hiding
until … well, until it’s safe.’

The only thing that might reveal the
whereabouts of the other three were the footsteps they’d left in the dust. She
removed her cashmere wrap and, bunching it up in one hand, swept away all
evidence of their passage. Her dog began to growl, his hackles rose. She must
hide or be discovered.

Her dog was quivering with anger, knew that
someone was coming, and they didn’t wish her well. A hideous moaning and the
sound of clanking chains split the night. Her hair stood on end; an icy shiver
run up and down her spine. Only Jet’s weight pressing against her side
prevented her from crying out.

He was poised beside her, ready to pounce. She
wondered what the other three were thinking as the shocking noise drew nearer.
The sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs reverberated round the attic;
after each footfall there was an ominous thump as if something heavy was being
dragged behind. She buried her face in Jet’s fur and prayed for deliverance.

*

Ralph, lantern swaying wildly in front of him,
tore back along the underground passageway until he reached the secret entrance
that led into the Hall relieved it had been left open. He hadn’t found his
pistol so headed for the gun room. There was no point in racing upstairs until
they were armed.

This side of the building was quiet, the men
from the cellar had to be somewhere in the house, but noise coming from the
servants’ quarters couldn’t be heard here. Not bothering to keep his passage
silent he crashed into the room and stopped.

Where the bloody hell were the keys? There was
no time to waste searching - they needed the weapons: it was imperative the
cupboard was opened immediately. After putting his lantern down on a shelf he
looked around the room for something to use as a lever to break open the
cabinets. ‘Tom, James, find something to
prise
the
lock.’

‘Here, your grace, this should do it.’ James
threw over a heavy iron file, one which used by a smith to pare down a horse’s
hoof. Whilst they gripped the edge of the door he forced it into the crack and
threw his weight against it. The door sprang open. Snatching the handguns, he
tossed two to Tom, one to James and kept the last two for himself.

‘Take powder and shot; quickly, they’ve been
here too long already. Load your pistols - have them primed and ready to fire.’
Whilst they were still fumbling, he removed a sword and belt from the rear of
the cupboard and strapped it around his waist.

‘Remember, we have the advantage of surprise
but there are seven of them. Be ready to fire at any moment. Keep the lanterns
low and hold them behind you whenever we approach an entrance.’

 
He ran
back, but as a he reached the corridor leading to the rear of the building he
slowed. He walked soft footed to the first staircase still unable to hear
evidence of an attack ahead of him. Keeping his shoulder to the wall he arrived
at the head of the stairs and paused to listen again. Nothing. He beckoned to
the others and they also slid into the makeshift sitting area.

 
In the
light of his lantern he could see the four doors were open, both
parlours
and bed chambers empty. Ralph
thanked God that Jet had arrived in time; Hester had taken everyone to hide
somewhere safer.

‘The attics. They must be up there,’ he
mouthed.

With lanterns at floor level he moved down the
corridor to the second staircase, freezing, as a hideous moaning echoed from
the stairwell followed by the sound of chains clanking on the ground. Despite
the certain knowledge that they were dealing with mortal men his stomach
clenched and icy sweat broke out on his forehead.

‘Bloody hell! What’s that?’ Tom whispered.

‘I know what it sounds like, but remember these
men have set themselves out to frighten us; to convince us we’re being attacked
by supernatural forces. What better than rattling chains and ghostly moaning to
terrify us into submission?’

‘And they’re doing a bloody good job of it,
your grace. I hate to think what the ladies will make of it.’

There was barely a minute to position himself
and his men before the women were discovered

‘Make sure your pistols are cocked and shoot to
kill. Don’t give anyone a second chance.’

He heard James’s sharp intake of breath - the
lad thought his orders harsh - after all hadn’t these same men captured him and
left him alive? But neither James nor Tom had heard what he had; all this
masquerading was merely a means of reaching Hester and himself in order to
dispose of them. He wouldn’t let that happen.

Removing his pistols from his belt he handed
his lantern back to Tom, gesturing for both men to stand behind the door. He
wanted no light to filter onto the stairs and warn the bastards. He was calm;
his pulse steady; his mind clear. He was a soldier and this was a battle he
didn’t intend to lose.

He tried to guess where his opponents were. As
he hesitated there was a canine roar of rage and a man screamed in agony. This
was his chance. They would be distracted. He burst into the stairwell only to
find he was behind a group of men who blocked the exit, all rooted to the spot.
The frightful noise of the dog savaging one of their comrades in the darkness
had them petrified.

He raised his gun and shot the nearest man; the
sound announced his presence as nothing else could. A second man turned,
levelling
his own pistol, but Ralph was too
quick for him and his second shot exploded. The man fell dead, tumbling head
over heels towards him. He swung himself over the body and it tumbled
harmlessly the bottom. Not waiting to see if his men were ready to fight he erupted
into the attic prepared to dispose of the rest - single-handedly if necessary.

*

Hester knew the men were close, the clanking
and banging had stopped but she was sure there was someone breathing a few
yards from her hiding place. Gripping her pistol more firmly she clicked back
the pin so the gun was ready to fire. The noise sounded loud in the darkness
and she prayed it hadn’t revealed her.

This slight movement seemed to tell her dog now
was his turn to act. With a snarl of rage he launched himself over the top of
the trunk hitting the first man squarely in the chest. She heard the man
screaming and then the darkness was rent by cursing and shouting. This was her
opportunity.

By peering above the barrier she could see
there were several men already in the attic. It could only be a matter of time
before they were all taken. She had to protect the others. Raising her gun she
pointed it at the man who was
belabouring
her dog with a club, trying to dislodge him
from his death grip on his comrade’s throat. Then there was the deafening sound
of gunshots.

One, then another, and she added to the
cacophony by pulling
her
trigger. Her
aim was true and the man with the club fell with a grunt to the floor. He lay
across the body of the man he’d been trying to protect. It would be wise to
remain where she was, behind the trunk; she’d done her part – now Ralph must do
his. He was here; the gunshots from the stairwell told her so.

*

Ralph saw the dog tearing the throat from one
man whilst another rained blows on the dog’s head and shoulders with a cudgel.
He leapt forward, drawing his sword. Before he could intervene Hester appeared
from behind a row of trunks and, pointing her pistol, pulled the trigger.

He dropped to the ground as a further fusillade
of shots ricocheted around the attics, the smoke from the guns making it
impossible to tell friend from foe and his enemies were firing
indiscriminately. He gestured to her to stay put, she nodded, vanishing once
more; her dog remained on guard, growling, warning anyone against approaching.

‘Tom, James, to me.’ He rolled to one side as a
shape loomed above him. Raising his sword he stabbed upwards and the blade slid
into solid flesh. The man he’d cut staggered away groaning horribly. How many
more of them were alive? Where the hell were Tom and James? In the melee the
lantern had been kicked over and plunged them all into darkness.

Tom’s reply came from the direction of the
stairs. ‘We’ve killed one of the bastards, your grace, James is shot, but he’ll
live. I’ll stand guard; no-one will come down without me seeing them. I have
three pistols loaded and waiting.’

The remaining men registered the import of
Tom’s words. They were trapped. All he had to do was keep them away from the
ladies; if they took one of them hostage he would have to surrender and all
would be lost.

He had excellent night vision and crouched in
the darkness waiting for his eyes to adjust. Tom’s lantern sent just enough
light spilling from the doorway to make it possible to see. Seven men had
passed him when he had been hiding in the underground passageway. He’d killed
two, Hester and the dog had disposed of another two, Tom and James one more
each; that meant there was one man left in the attic.

Yes! He could see him edging slowly towards the
stairwell; Tom and James would be an easy target, the lantern showing up their
outlines. He couldn’t allow this last man to reach them.