The Duke's Dilemma (21 page)

At least there was no
worry that her legs would give way beneath her, being so tightly jammed in her
hidey-hole she could raise her feet from the floor and still remain upright.
She closed her eyes and tried to think of Ralph.

Chapter Twenty-one

Ralph hauled on the reins and his foam-flecked
horse dropped back to a canter, then to a stumbling walk. The beast was done,
he’d driven it hard and it wasn’t as fit as it should be. The shape of the
outbuildings loomed ahead and behind them the massive bulk of Neddingfield.

He dropped on the ground his feet slipping from
under him, and he was forced to grab at his stirrup leather to keep himself
upright. ‘Bloody hell! Leave the horses here, we walk from here.’

For the second time that morning he crouched,
pulling the collar of his topcoat up and readjusting the muffler so it covered
his face. He threaded his way through the dripping branches listening for any
sounds that would indicate they had been observed.

Waving Robin to take one side of the stable
block, he took the other; Tom would follow with the grooms. He hadn’t seen any
evidence the Hall was occupied, but this didn’t mean the villains weren’t
there. They were ex-soldiers and knew the art of camouflage.

He reached the yard, scanning it cautiously;
the space was empty, still no sign of intruders.

Certain
he was right, that they were here somewhere, he couldn’t relax for a second. If
they were in the house they would have entered through the back door – would
they have guarded it?

Keeping low he ran across the yard and began
his slow approach. Still no sign. He froze. What was that? He heard a low
rumbling sound and recognized it instantly. It was Jet .and he wasn’t happy.
The dog was prowling around outside the house, his hackles up and growling continuously.
This confirmed Ralph’s worst suspicions. The men were inside. Looking over his
shoulder he saw Robin understood. His face bleak, he stopped, pressing himself
into the shadows.

Robin arrived at his side. ‘What now, your
grace? They’ll have the kitchen garden watched. But there’s no voices, no
screaming, maybe they’ve not found Miss Frobisher.’

‘Yes, but that doesn’t solve the problem of how
we’re going to effect an entry. We can’t approach the rear and all the shutters
and doors are locked on the ground floor. Let me think.’ He shut his eyes
trying to visualize the layout of the house. ‘We can get in though my aunt’s
chambers, there’s a creeper runs up the corner of the building. I can climb in
that way.’

‘You’ll not do it alone, sir. If Tom and I
follow you, Seth and Robert can guard the back and if anyone comes out the dog
will help deal with them.’

Ralph nodded. He had to assume there would be
two men in the kitchen area, which meant four searching for Hester. If he could
get in without discovery they wouldn’t be drastically outnumbered.

He waved his hand indicating they reverse and
regroup behind the diary block. He explained his plan, checking they understood
their part in it. It would be easier to reach the front of the building via the
rose garden; there was more cover and less likelihood of them being spotted
from an upstairs window.

Arriving at the corner of the building he
stared - it was no more than twenty feet or so. At this end of the house the
windows had been changed from small leaded casements to large sash windows. He
tested the rigidity of the plant before attempting to climb. It seemed firm
enough. He stretched above his head to grasp a branch then swung his feet from
the ground. With surprising agility for a man of his size he shot upwards and
was onto the wide window sill in seconds. The one thing not considered was that
the catch might be pulled across. Then he’d have to break the glass in order to
enter and that was bound to warn any men in the vicinity.

He breathed again – thank the good Lord – the
window was unfastened. Balancing precariously, he slid his knife into the gap
between the frame and the window ledge and jerked down using it as a lever. The
window moved up an inch or two allowing him to get his fingers underneath. He
replaced his knife and gripping the window slowly raised it.

It didn’t screech or stick. He dropped his leg
over into the space between the wall and the shutters; the heavy brocade
curtains were drawn but by peering through them saw the room was empty. Had it
been searched already? He edged to one side as Robin arrived soundlessly,
followed by Tom. There was a slight grating sound as the window shut. If it was
left open there could be a draught which would move the curtains.

He waited a minute before easing the shutters
apart and slipping between them. Then he leant against the wall to remove his
boots, not wanting to take the risk of being heard on uncarpeted floors. A
slight shuffling behind him indicated the others were doing the same. He drew his
sword and dropped it back into the scabbard. He was glad he taken the time to
load and prime both pistols; he cocked them – the sound loud in the empty room.

Tom and Robin placed
their boots behind the shutters and then he led them around the perimeter of
his aunt’s private
parlour
to the door which led into the corridor. His hands tightened on his
weapons. There were footsteps approaching.

*

The walls of her prison seemed to be moving
closer. Hester tried to ease the pressure from her chest but was stuck fast. A
wave of panic all but overwhelmed her; from somewhere she found the courage to
force it away.

If she struggled her breathing would be more
restricted and she was like to suffocate. As long as she remained calm, took
small shallow breaths and relaxed her limbs all would be well. Someone, either
the intruders or Ralph, would find her. Birdie and Polly had seen her vanish
and must know she was hiding, all she had to do was remain quiet and try to
think about happier times.

Her toes and fingers were the only part of her
anatomy she could move. She wriggled them vigorously. It wasn’t cold, that was
a blessing. A strange feeling of lethargy began to overcome her and her head
pounded. Oh dear! This was a bad time to be developing a megrim. She forced
herself to think about Ralph, about their future together, about their wedding
day.

She would drift off to sleep for a while; her
head was heavy she believed she was becoming quite accustomed to her
confinement. Could she hear voices shouting? Never mind, whoever it was would
come back when she’d had her nap.

*

The handle was turning and Ralph raised his
pistols. He was positioned directly in front, if

the
person opening it knew, he was as good as dead. However, if he didn’t … his
lips twisted in anticipation.

Robin was to his left, Tom to his right – they
had both barrels of their weapons fixed firmly on the slowly moving door.

‘We ain’t looked in ‘ere, ’
ave
we? Where the bleeding ’ell is she? Christ, it’s as cold as a tomb up ‘ere.
With any luck she’ll ’
ave
frozen to death and saved
us the trouble of topping ’
er
.’

The door opened wider. Ralph held his nerve. If
he fired too soon it could prove fatal – to him – not to his opponents.

The person who had spoken continued to push
into the room. The door swung fully open and Ralph saw two men, unshaven, both
carrying guns, but neither having them cocked and ready to fire. His trigger
finger tightened but something stopped him; instead, he leapt forward, jamming
his gun down the throat of the first man, hearing Robin and Tom do the same
with the second.

‘Not a sound if you want to live,’ he snarled.
The man remained mute. ‘Drop your weapons.’ Ralph swore under his breath; a bad
move, if the others were within earshot they would be upon them in a moment.
Without compunction he reversed his weapon and hit the man on the back of the
head, catching him as he crumpled.

‘Tie and gag them both, Tom. Quick, we might
only have a minute or two before the others arrive.’

Robin dispatched the second intruder with cold
blooded efficiency. Leaving his minions to secure them, he pulled the door
closed and put his eyes to the crack. His pulse steadied as he realized they
were undiscovered. He could hear voices along the corridor; they were searching
his apartments, They hadn’t found anything and they sounded frustrated.

‘Have you finished? We must get into a position
where we can ambush the second two.’

‘We’ve done here, your grace. We’ll leave them
behind the door then if anyone looks in they’ll not see them.’ Robin grinned.
‘But they’ll smell them, that’s for sure.’

 
‘Don’t
shoot to kill, there has been more than enough of that in the past twenty-four
hours. Though given the choice,
I’d
rather be shot than hung.’

He walked along the carpeted centre of the
passageway knowing the men were searching his bedchamber. He intended to
position himself outside the sitting-room door. He couldn’t hear what the men
were saying but was sure they hadn’t found Hester. Wherever she’d secreted
herself he hoped she’d remain quiet until this final part of the drama was
completed.

He gestured to the others to hide and once
again stood where he would be in full view when the door opened. The shock of
seeing him, armed to the teeth would he hoped be enough to freeze them in their
tracks. He was a formidable sight, standing well over two yards in his
stockings, his face lean and weather-beaten from his years of fighting
Bonaparte. He looked what he was – a battle hardened veteran.

He gripped the butts of his guns firmly and
braced himself. This time the door was flung open, no attempt at deception.

 
‘Bugger
me!’

 
These
were the last words the leader of the gang said as Ralph smashed him squarely
on the jaw with his pistol and he fell backwards, unconscious, with a crash.
The man behind him gave up without a murmur. Ralph thought he must have seen
the pile of bodies in the outhouse and feared if he so much as blinked he would
join them.

‘Don’t bother to do more than truss them,
Robin. He has no one else to warn.’

‘Yes, your grace. There’s still the other two downstairs
to deal with. Shall we do that whilst you find Miss Frobisher?’

‘Yes. They won’t have heard anything, the
kitchen’s too far away. Here, take my pistols, I’ll not need them.’
 

He walked along the passageway trying to think
as Hester might have done – where would she have chosen to hide? He turned
back, calling out to Robin. ‘Ask the one that’s conscious where they’ve
searched.’

Robin did so and the man was happy to oblige
with what he knew. They’d looked through all the downstairs rooms and those on
the first floor, so where the hell was she? She must be in the attics. There
were large rooms on the third floor not occupied by servants but used as
nurseries and school rooms in the distant past. She had to be up there, there
was nowhere else to look.

Thirty minutes later he still hadn’t found her
and was beginning to feel a flicker of alarm. He shouted and called her name;
if she was unharmed she must have heard him. Why hadn’t she answered?

He pounded back down the stairs coming
face-to-face with Robin, looking grave. ‘I have very bad news, your grace. The
bastards killed one of the girls, little Meg, they broke her neck.’ Robin
continued. ‘Miss Bird suffered a concussion when they threw her down the steps
of the root cellar and is still out cold; Polly is taking care of her. Tom has
carried the poor lady upstairs to her chamber and they are making her as
comfortable as they can. My fear is it will be the cold that kills her, not the
head injury.

 
‘They
were shut in all this time and it’s bloody freezing down there’ Ralph rubbed
his eyes. How many more people would suffer before things returned to normal?
‘What about James? Did they find him?’

‘No sir, he had time to hide and they didn’t
bother to look too closely up there. But there’s no one to send for the
doctor.’

‘Fred will have ridden to Squire Norton;
remember we told him if we didn’t return he was to fetch help.’ He knew the
militia would go to Bracken Manor first but possibly the magistrate would have
the intelligence to send across to Neddingfield as well.

‘Robin, I searched the nurseries and
schoolrooms, she’s definitely not there. She has to be somewhere on this; maybe
she doesn’t realize it’s me looking for her and is too scared to come out.’ He
paused. ‘The dog. Get downstairs and fetch him. He’ll find her for us. God damn
it! Why didn’t I think of him sooner?’

Whilst he waited he walked back to Hester’s
apartments calling out her name, he listened but heard no response. Leaving the
door open he went elsewhere and did the same, still no answer.

 
Jet
galloped up the stairs greeting Ralph enthusiastically. ‘Good boy, we need you
to find your mistress.’

The dog sat down, his tail brushing the carpet,
his liquid brown eyes fixed on his face as if waiting for instructions.

 
‘Go,
seek your mistress, find Hester.’ The dog remained where he was, seemed unable
to grasp the simple fact he was needed to find the person he loved the best.

‘Hell and damnation! I’ll have to try again
myself.’ He headed down the corridor, deciding to start with his own apartments
and work his way back; she had to be somewhere. ‘Hester, Hester, where are
you?’