Anna Jacobs (23 page)

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Deborah woke up the next morning with a feeling of apprehension that deepened when she found herself alone in the bed. That fact that Matthew was nowhere to be seen worried her even more than usual because it was barely dawn. What was he doing? She prayed he was being careful.

She got up at once, washing and dressing in cold water, not wanting to waste a minute. Then she went down to the kitchen, determined to make sure the Simleys understood they were to leave the following day with the Elkins. After that she didn’t care what happened to them.

She found only Merry in the kitchen. “Where’s Mrs Simley?”

“Oh, she never gets up this early. I usually start things off. If I’d known you were awake, I’d have brought you some hot water. The master said to let you sleep.”

“I couldn’t sleep and cold water is no hardship in summer.” She decided to remind the maid of the situation. “The Simleys will be leaving tomorrow with the Elkins, but we’re happy for you to stay on in our employment.”

Merry beamed at her. “I’ll be glad to see the back of them and happy to stay on here. You won’t regret it, Mrs Pascoe, I promise you.”

“I’m sure I won’t.” Deborah cut herself a slice of bread and went out to the stables, but the sight of Seth lounging in the yard watching Jem work made her turn away. Where was her husband? Surely he hadn’t set off to buy the stock yet?

She couldn’t settle to anything, so took herself off to the linen room to continue sorting out the yellowed sheets and tablecloths. It still amazed her that a house should have a room solely devoted to linen and other household items, though it was, of course, very convenient—and that all these rooms should belong to her and her husband. How happy she could be here if Elkin would only go away!

Hearing a sound she looked up, to see him standing in the doorway watching her. He was dressed in a nightcap and banyan, the loose indoor garment fastened only by a sash around the waist. “Did you need something?” she asked crisply. “I’m rather busy, I’m afraid, so if you’ll just ask the Simleys.”

“So I can see. I was enjoying the sight of my pretty cousin working so assiduously. You have beautiful hair, Deborah.”

“I’d prefer you not to talk to me like that.”

“I talk as I please.”

“You wouldn’t if my husband were here.”

“He does cramp my style somewhat,” Elkin agreed. “And he certainly doesn’t deserve a lovely woman like you.”

She would have left, but that would have meant pushing past him, so she concentrated on the linen, counting it carefully, but forgetting the total when Elkin cleared his throat. Reluctantly she looked towards him again.

“I shall look forward to seeing you at breakfast,” he said, his eyes full of innuendo as they raked her body. “Maybe today we can sit next to one another.”

She shuddered, couldn’t hide it.

He scowled for a moment, then forced a laugh, though it was a mirthless sound. Turning, he strolled off.

The encounter only added to her worries. How dared he accost her like that? It must mean he was sure Matthew wasn’t in the house. Had her husband left without saying farewell even?

He still hadn’t appeared when it was time for the formal breakfast at nine o’clock and Deborah wondered whether to stay in her room and ring for Merry to bring her something. But she didn’t want Elkin to think that he’d frightened her, so she checked that her clothes and hair were neat, pinning up some stray wisps of hair before she made her way down the stairs.

Her guest was already in the dining room, standing by the window looking out. To her relief he was more formally dressed now, wearing garments suitable for riding.

He turned as she came in and swept her a mocking bow. “We meet again. And it seems we’re to break our fast tête-à-tête today.”

He spoke with his usual mocking intonation, waving one hand towards the table and she wondered why he never seemed to speak normally, even to his mother. There was always some hidden meaning lurking behind his words, usually unpleasant.

She stared at the table, noting it was set only for two, and her heart sank. “Matthew was going to buy some beasts,” she said—calmly, she hoped.

“Yes. Our noble sovereign would be very impressed by him and his devotion to farming. But then we can’t all be like Farmer George, can we?”

She ignored that, but in her opinion a king who set a good example to his subjects should not be mocked for his interest in agriculture by ne’er-do-wells like Anthony Elkin.

She took care to sit opposite her guest and promised herself that if he started making personal remarks she would leave the room at once. But he didn’t. He spoke of life in London, the perils of travelling on bad roads, his pleasure that his mother was recovering. If it hadn’t been for the mocking tone, it might have been interesting to hear of such things. But always the mockery was there and with it, to her, a sense of malice or downright evil. She listened with half an ear, wishing herself anywhere but here.

It was a while before she realised that Elkin was deliberately prolonging the meal. Good manners forced her to stay until he’d finished eating, but she replied only briefly to his flow of small talk and raised no topics herself.

“Tsk! Tsk!” he chided after a while. “This is no way to conduct yourself in polite society, my dear Deborah. A lady should be able to maintain a light conversation with her guests.”

“I do not consider this ‘polite society’,” she countered, letting her annoyance show for once.

For a moment she saw clearly the vicious brute behind the smiling face, the brute whose actions had, she was sure, set the dissolute lines down the cheeks and the chill world-weariness in the grey eyes. She wished she’d minded her tongue, though. It did no good to rile him.

When the meal at last came to an end, she stood up. “I have a great deal to do and no doubt you will wish to start your man packing your clothes ready for your departure tomorrow.”

He rose swiftly and barred her way to the door. “First come outside and take a breath of fresh air with me.”

“No, thank you.”

“I have news of your mother,” he said very softly. “But if you mention that to anyone I shall deny it. What I have to say is for your ears only and there always seems to be someone hovering nearby inside the house.”

She froze, staring at him. “I don’t believe you.”

He pulled out a thin gold band and held it out between forefinger and thumb. When she reached for it, he pulled it back. “You recognise it?”

“It’s my mother’s wedding ring.” She felt as if she were choking suddenly. “How did you get it? She never normally takes it off.” And even her father had never tried to pawn that. The ring must have been taken forcibly from her mother.

“I shall tell you when we’re away from the house, and only then.”

She hesitated, knowing this was to put herself in his power, something strictly forbidden by Matthew. But her husband wasn’t here and that was her mother’s ring, so she didn’t dare refuse to go. “Very well. I’ll just go and fetch a mantle.”

“It’s not cold. You don’t need one. Either you come now or I toss this away and forget about the old lady. And Bessie. What do I care how uncomfortable they are?”

He knew the maid’s name! She couldn’t refuse to do what he wanted any longer. “Very well.”

As they walked outside she looked for someone to see her go, but there was no one, and that in itself was strange. No gardener, no groom, no sign of Merry working about the house. What had happened to everyone?

Almost she turned back. But the thought of her mother in this man’s power kept her moving on. When Elkin offered his arm, she took it and, heart thudding with anxiety, accompanied him across to the path across the moors, the one he had taken yesterday with his manservant.

She resolved not to go far, though, not out of sight of the house.

Chapter 12

Elkin set a cracking pace, but after a while, since he didn’t say anything further, Deborah stopped walking. As he scowled at her, she raised her chin and said defiantly, “Tell me about my mother now or I’m returning to the house.”

“I don’t think you can afford to make threats, Cousin Deborah.”

“I can do as I wish.” Suddenly she felt vulnerable and turned to go back. She shouldn’t have come, whatever the threat he made. But he grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back, making her cry out in pain. She tried to kick him, struggling against both him and her full skirts, but he only twisted harder, so that she cried out involuntarily and stopped struggling.

“That’s better.” He increased the pain still more so that she had difficulty biting back another cry. “You need to understand that I’m much stronger than you, Deborah—not only physically but in the cards I hold in my hand. I have your mother and Bessie, you see.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Where are they? Are they all right?”

“They’re safe enough.” He paused and waited for a few moments before adding, “For the moment, anyway.”

She stood there motionless, not struggling. She knew he was going to continue hurting her, whether she obeyed him or not, because he had the same expression in his eyes as her uncle, who also enjoyed inflicting pain on people. But she was quite sure Elkin would go much further than her uncle ever did, for Walter Lawrence was always concerned to maintain his public image as a gentleman, however badly he behaved in private.

“I’ll take you to them,” Elkin offered when she didn’t speak, “as long as you behave yourself.”

“Why can’t you bring them here?”

“Because they’re useful bargaining counters to me. It should be obvious even to you that only a fool gives away his advantages for nothing.” He jerked her forward so that she had to start walking again.

It was no use screaming or she’d have done so, for Elkin had chosen his spot well and there was no one close enough to hear. “I don’t understand,” she said, though she would guess he wanted money from her in return for her mother’s safe return.

“You don’t need to understand until we get there.” He shoved her again, making her stumble and smiling as pain in the arm he was still holding twisted behind her back made her gasp.

She didn’t try to reason with him any more, but stole the occasional glance sideways, trying to work out what he intended before he did it. She noticed that he was scanning the horizon every few paces, as if keeping a careful watch for something. She also managed to glance towards the house. Surely someone had noticed them leaving? But at this distance she couldn’t make things out very clearly.

Without warning Elkin threw her to the ground and she couldn’t help moaning as she scraped her arm on a stone.

He flung himself down beside her. “Keep still. I have excellent eyesight and we don’t want Merry to notice us as she picks some vegetables, do we?” As they lay there among the tussocks of wiry grass, he laughed softly and reached out to squeeze her breast. “Next time you lie down with me, it’ll be to serve my needs as a woman should.”

“I’m married to someone else!” She tried to pull away, but his hand was like iron clamped around her wrist.

“Keep still, I said!”

As she lay facing him in a parody of an embrace, he tweaked her nipple so hard it brought tears to her eyes.

“When I bed you,” he went on, speaking as lightly as if they were discussing the weather, “you will do as you’re told—unless you want that pretty little nipple slicing right off.”

She gasped in shock at this crude threat and fear skittered through her to sit in a quivering mass in her belly. He would do it, too. She knew that now, for he had abandoned all pretence of being a gentleman and was showing himself in his true colours—a beast, not a man.

This was why Mrs Elkin and her maid were so afraid of him? What had he done to them?

Matthew, she prayed. Oh, Matthew, please come and find me!

“Ah.” Elkin’s voice was soft and throaty now. “That frightens you, doesn’t it? Admit it!” He shook her hard.

She nodded, not knowing what to say to placate him, but heaven help her, desperate to do so.

“If you value that soft, pretty body of yours, you had better realise that I always mean exactly what I threaten. Stop trying to fight me and learn to please me. Ah. The wench has gone inside again.” He sat up to scan the horizon again then jerked her to her feet without warning, hurting her and forcing her to start walking again.

When she opened her mouth to ask where they were going, he shook her hard. “I told you to keep quiet, you stupid bitch. Can you not understand the King’s English?”

After that she could only stumble along beside him, horrified that she had so stupidly got herself into this trouble and terrified that no one was going to rescue her from it before Elkin carried out his threat to bed her. She was absolutely certain she couldn’t pretend docility if he tried, couldn’t let him touch her intimately without instinctively struggling.

And then what would he do?

What had happened to her mother? Had Elkin killed her when he took the wedding ring? And Bessie, poor Bessie? What had he done to her?

* * * *

Frank made good time on the road, pushing his horse to its limits to reach Newgarth. When he dismounted at the Hall, it stood where he left it, exhausted and trembling. “See to it!” he yelled at the stable lad, striding off towards the house without waiting for an answer.

It being past noon, he had hoped to find his master at home, but wasn’t in luck.

“The family’s gone to visit the Finchcombes at the Priory,” the housekeeper told him. “Very set up about getting the invitation, the master was, but the fellow as brought it told me his master was inviting everyone in the neighbourhood, to put on a show for their fine London visitors.” All the servants knew that some of the old county families would have little to do with the Lawrences, who were newly rich, and most of them secretly relished seeing their master fail to get what he wanted.

Frank stood there biting his lip. Should he leave this till his master came home? No, definitely not. “I’ve not broken my fast bar a slice of bread at dawn,” he said abruptly. “Can you get me something to eat while I change my clothes? I think I’d better ride over to the Priory and speak to Mr Lawrence. I’ve urgent news for him.”