Anna Jacobs (20 page)

“He thinks it’s better to have Elkin here, where we can keep an eye on his comings and goings at least, than leave him free to see anyone he pleases and plot in secret. I’m not sure I agree.” After all, someone had shot at her husband inside their own home and she still shuddered when she thought of that. “What are we going to do about Mrs Elkin now?”

“Nothing. I feel her best chance of getting better is to take no potions at all. And you should tell her maid to be careful what her mistress eats and drinks.”

“Her son enters her bedchamber regularly, though. How can we stop him from putting things in her food and drink?”

“Is the maid working with him, do you think?”

Deborah chewed at one fingernail as she considered this, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. Both she and her mistress seem terrified of him.”

“This is a difficult business. I’ll have a word with Matthew before I leave.”

“If you can find him. He’s been very busy today.” She couldn’t keep the sharpness out of her voice, because although he hadn’t told her what he was doing, she was sure he was planning something with Jem. Pulling herself together, she said more temperately, “Well, Elkin cannot stay here for ever, can he?”

Her words seemed to echo prophetically round the room. Staying for ever was exactly what that man wanted, what he was trying to arrange by fair means or foul.

“I suppose I’d better speak to him about his mother now,” Dr Lethbury said with a grimace.

“I’ll go and tell him you’re free.”

When she went outside, Elkin sauntered across to her, standing so close she took an involuntary step backwards. “You said you wished to see Dr Lethbury. He’s waiting for you in the library.”

“Thank you, Cousin Deborah.”

Oh, so she was ‘cousin’ again this morning, was she? And spoken in a caressing tone, too. Did he think she was a total fool?

The interview didn’t last long and there were no raised voices, though Deborah lingered nearby, just in case the doctor had need of an interruption.

When Dr Lethbury had ridden away, she saw Elkin go outside again but luckily he didn’t see her. He seemed unusually restless this morning and she couldn’t help wondering why. She prayed he wasn’t plotting something else, knew he must be.

Once he’d left the room, she went into the library and pulled a few books out to make it look as if she were tidying the bookcase, then went to stand by the window, hidden by the curtains, to continue watching him.

Her patience was rewarded half an hour later when she saw his manservant come running across from the stables. Elkin, who’d been pacing to and fro in the garden, moved swiftly to meet him and the two men disappeared in the direction of the gate in the dry stone wall which separated the grounds from the moors.

What had sent the man running for his master? She wondered whether to follow them, but resisted the impulse. Not only was there no way for her to hide her presence on the moors, but Matthew was right. It was too risky for her to be alone with Elkin.

Even in the house he made her feel ill at ease and she sincerely pitied anyone who was in his power.

* * * *

The two men left the grounds and walked along a path that led towards the moors. When they were about a hundred paces from the house Elkin stopped and looked at his companion. “Well? It’s not often I see you moving in such haste, Seth. What’s happened?”

His companion grinned. “Chadding’s just told me the mother’s been seen with her maid. The groom who brought a message from Mr Lawrence stopped in Rochdale on the way back to Newgarth and heard that two old women had left the inn suddenly when a maid recognised them from Lawrence’s wanted poster. They got away, but they can only be making for Marymoor. The groom returned to tell Chadding, who acts for his master in such situations.”

“Ah!”

“He’s very anxious to find them and has asked for my help.” Seth grinned. “I’ve said I’ll have to ask your permission first, but I think we should help him find her. After that, we may discover that we have greater need of the old dame than his master does.”

“We may indeed. Having her in our power will enable us to persuade that woman to do as we wish—exactly as we wish—once Pascoe is disposed of. Hire any help you need, but find those old women before they get to Marymoor and stow them safely away in the cottage.”

“I’ll do my best, but it won’t be easy. They could be taking any route to get here from Rochdale.”

Elkin frowned in thought, then shook his head. “Not if they’re trying to avoid being seen. They’ll be coming across the moors not using the main highway. And anyone heading for Marymoor across the tops has to take North Edge Way for the last part of the journey. That’s where we’ll catch them. I’m sure of it.”

Seth had seen his master sure of something before, especially when he was gambling, and didn’t share his optimism. “Dare we restrict ourselves to watching the one route?” he ventured.

Elkin threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, yes, we dare indeed, because even if they get through to Marymoor, we can still seize them. But we need to keep Chadding out of the way, so see if you can persuade him to watch the main highway from Rochdale. And the minute we have the old women we’ll deal with Pascoe permanently. This time he won’t escape.”

“You’ll have to marry her to be sure of obtaining Marymoor House.”

“That’ll be no hardship. She’s a cosy enough armful if somewhat pert in manner. Once I’ve schooled her to be obedient, I may decide she’s just what I need, especially if she proves fertile. A man needs an heir, after all. But if she proves an uncomfortable wife, well, we have ways of removing annoyances, do we not?”

Seth nodded. “Will there be enough money to stop doing the other thing?” he asked, after a thoughtful silence. “We’ve been lucky so far in our dealings, but luck can run out, as I warned you at the beginning. They hung my former partner for highway robbery. I don’t want to follow him to the gallows.”

Elkin was silent, staring into the distance as he thought this through. “Marymoor isn’t a rich estate.”

“Then maybe once you’ve secured your inheritance, you’ll have to dispose of your poor wife and find yourself an heiress.”

“I suppose you’re right. Pity. Heiresses are always so ugly and they have to be wooed with great care or they fly away to nest elsewhere. And they usually have damned relatives who want to interfere.”

Seth decided it was time to change the subject a little. His master had already tried and failed to woo two heiresses. “And your mother?”

“Oh, she’s served our purpose here. It’s more than time she recovered from her indisposition. When I move into Marymoor, she and that maid can stay on at the bailiff’s house. They needn’t cost us much.” He gave a mirthless snort of laughter. “From what she said last winter, the dampness is like to kill her.”

Seth kept silent. He knew Elkin was always in two minds about his mother. He treated her ruthlessly, but had once revealed that he had pleasant memories of her from his childhood. Lucky him! Seth had no pleasant memories of his family and if he never saw any of them again, he’d be happy.

The only thing that counted, as far as he was concerned, was money and for the moment Anthony Elkin was enabling him to get some of that precious commodity for himself. When Elkin was no more use to him, he’d leave and find someone else who needed the services of a man who wasn’t afraid to dirty his hands when paid well enough.

* * * *

When Matthew went into the village to see the innkeeper, he made his way across the fields and slipped through the back gardens. He made no attempt to enter the inn, but went into the stables, startling the ostler.

“Eh, Mr Pascoe, you nearly frit me out of my skin.”

“I want to see your master but I don’t want anyone to know I’m here. Can you go and fetch him for me?”

“Aye, sir.”

Matthew nodded. “You get yourself a glass of ale and a bite to eat now, lad, but keep your mouth closed about my visit, eh?”

When John went out to the stables Sam moved to follow his father but was shooed back inside with a genial, “Not this time, lad.”

Matthew had been leaning against the half-door of one stall, lost in thought, but he straightened up when John came in. “I got your note. What exactly’s been happening?”

John explained about the surly messenger who said he’d come from Chadding’s employer. “He left yesterday, and then returned very early in the morning, looking as if he’d been up all night, as did his poor horse, so I thought, ‘Something’s afoot.’ And since Elkin’s been seen talking to Chadding a couple of times, I thought you’d want to know. My Sam tried to get close enough to eavesdrop, but didn’t manage, more’s the pity. I never did take to that Chadding, not from the start, though he’s always civil enough. But anyone as takes up with Elkin is up to no good as we’ve all seen many a time, even when he was a lad.”

Matthew patted the horse absent-mindedly as it nudged him. “I was coming to see you anyway. I think the time has come for us to take more direct action. I’d been hoping that if I gave Elkin a long enough rope, he’d hang himself, but he’s treading very carefully, damn him!”

“He always was clever at protecting himself.”

“Can I count on your help if I need it, John?” He didn’t really need to ask. There had been a time when the two of them had worked in the same trade of inn-keeping, when Matthew hadn’t hesitated to ask John’s advice on wine and ale, yes, and follow it too. Later, when he came to Marymoor, he’d hired a distant connection of John’s to run the inn, and he was a good man, too.

Elkin had never learned how useful country networks could be, but Matthew knew and was glad of them now. If anything happened to Deborah . . . He suppressed that thought. He wouldn’t let any harm come to her.

“You know you can count on me, lad,” John said. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’m not going to sit around worrying about whether someone’s going to take another shot at me. It’s time to flush Elkin out into the open and end this affair once and for all.” He turned to leave, then stopped to add, “If you receive any message from me, it’ll say ‘for old time’s sake’ or it’ll be false.”

John nodded and watched Matthew slip out the back way. He hoped his friend knew what he was doing. Elkin was a tricky devil.

* * * *

Isabel and Bessie set off the next morning but made even slower progress. They were walking slowly and wearily along the moorland track, trying to avoid the worst of the mud, when a gentleman rode past them on horseback. He was exquisitely dressed, but with a haughty expression on his face. He slowed down enough not to splatter them with mud, but stared at them indifferently and made no attempt to offer a greeting.

“Doesn’t hurt a body to pass the time of day,” Bessie grumbled as they stopped to watch him ride on and turn down a side track to the left.

“Never mind. He must think we’re vagrants, we look so bedraggled.” Isabel looked down at herself and sighed. “I wish a cart would come past and give us a ride. My feet are hurting.”

“Do you want to rest again?”

“No. I just want to get to Marymoor. You’re exhausted, too, Bessie, and don’t pretend you’re not.”

“We’re getting old, Mrs Isabel.”

A sigh was her only answer.

When they were a little way past the same side track as the rider had taken they heard a rumbling sound and turned to see a cart coming along it towards them. Both women stopped automatically to watch it.

“Will the cart turn our way, do you think?” Isabel asked. “Or will it go back towards Rochdale?”

When it turned their way, she could not hold back a sob. “Dear God, let the driver be of kindly disposition. If he refuses us a ride, I don’t think I can bear it.”

The cart came towards them and when Bessie waved one hand, the driver reined in his horse alongside them. “We’re heading towards Marymoor. Would you be kind enough to give us a ride?”

He studied them thoughtfully. “You ladies look tired,” he said. “Have you come far?”

“From near Rochdale.”

“Well, I’m heading towards Marymoor and I don’t mind giving you a ride, but I have a call to make on the way, so I hope you don’t mind a little detour. Got relatives in Marymoor, have you?”

“My daughter,” Isabel said before Bessie could stop her.

“Would I know her?”

“She’s called Deborah. Visiting Mr Jannvier.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve seen her.” He smiled at them. “Well, can’t stay her chatting all day, can we? Climb up behind and let’s get moving.”

Eagerly the two women scrambled up on to the tail of the cart and made themselves as comfortable as old bones can be on bare boards.

As they set off again, the driver threw over his shoulder, “The place I have to stop is a farm. They want me to take some stuff into Marymoor for them. It’ll only add an hour to our journey. I’m sure the farmer’s wife will offer you a bite to eat while you wait for me. She’s a kindly soul.”

“That’d be very welcome,” Isabel admitted.

Bessie didn’t say anything. The man was being kind to them, but she just couldn’t take to him and she wished Mrs Isabel hadn’t mentioned Deborah. It hadn’t escaped her notice that he hadn’t given them his name or asked theirs. But it was such a relief not to be walking. And she was probably being foolish to be so suspicious.

As the cart rattled along, the driver began to whistle cheerfully but made no further attempt to engage them in conversation.

Within minutes, Isabel had fallen asleep and Bessie was dozing. They were sheltered from the wind by the sides of the cart and the rain was holding off.

Seth smiled as he tugged on the reins so that the horse turned off towards the right. Never caught a pair of pigeons so easily, he thought. You’re right. Things are definitely going our way, master. These two have even told me they’re the right ones.

* * * *

When Deborah went up to see her, Mrs Elkin was dozing but looked a little better, with more colour in her cheeks.

“The doctor suggested you take care what your mistress eats and drinks,” Deborah told the maid. “Perhaps you should keep some food out by the bed, but eat only what you’ve kept safe elsewhere?”