Fenella J. Miller (7 page)

Mr Anderson could leave for Upton Manor and collect Ann. Cassie was becoming increasingly unhappy impersonating her friend, every time Amanda called her Miss Roberts she flinched; she wished she could explain to the child who she really was. But until Ann was safely away from Upton she had to hold her peace.

When she called for Amanda, her nanny opened the door. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Roberts, but Miss Amanda is a trifle poorly this morning and I’ve decided she’d be better staying in bed.’

‘I do hope it’s nothing serious, Nanny? Has she caught a chill from playing in the snow?’

‘No, Miss Roberts, I think it was eating too much of cook’s plum cake last night before supper, it has upset her stomach. A quiet day in bed will soon put her right again.’

‘Good, give her my love, and I shall see her as usual tomorrow.’

Cassie realized that she had a day to herself, no duties to perform, no lessons to take, and knew immediately what she wished to do with her unexpected free time. She would enquire about borrowing a horse, it was long time since she’d ridden, but she thought it was a skill one never forgot. She was walking though the entrance hall as her employer was about to leave the house.

‘Good morning Miss Roberts, I was about to send for you. I shall be leaving for Kent to collect

your friend as soon as I return from some important estate business. The sudden thaw has caused flooding in some of the cottages and they are in need of urgent repair. I wish to see for myself what needs doing.’

‘You are a conscientious landlord, Mr Anderson. I have a favour to ask, is there a quiet horse that I might borrow? Your daughter has a stomach upset, nothing serious I can assure you, but I am free of my duties today and rather thought I might try my hand at riding again.’

‘Yes, there is a mare that is used to pull the gig sometimes, but she also goes smoothly under sidesaddle. I shall ask Ned to saddle her up for you and be ready to accompany you when you come down.’

Cassie raced back upstairs unaware she showed an expanse of trim ankle that was most unseemly. She burst into her bedchamber where Molly was talking to the chambermaid.

‘Molly, I am to go riding, it is a good thing that I thought to bring a habit with me. Can you help me change, I do not wish to keep the horses waiting in this weather.’

She arrived at the stables to find a small chestnut mare standing placidly her reins looped over the arm of a smiling groom. ‘Good morning, Miss Roberts, the master says I am to accompany you wherever you wish to go. You’ll not come to any harm on Bess here, she is as quiet and gentle as a lamb.’

Cassie took the reins and turned to allow him to toss her up in to the saddle. She placed her knee around the pommel and rammed her other foot home in the stirrup iron. Then she carefully adjusted the skirts of her habit and was ready to go. As they clattered out on to the gravel circle in front of the house a young footman ran down the steps waving a letter.

‘Miss Roberts, this note has just arrived from the village, the boy said that it was urgent.’

Cassie frowned. Why should anyone be sending her a note, she knew no one living there? Then she smiled, she knew who it was from – Ann had arrived and finding her cottage occupied was contacting her for advice.

She urged her mare across to the footman and leant down to the take the note, it was folded and sealed with a blob of plain red wax. She dropped her reins, she twisting them round her knee, sure the animal would remain still whilst she perused her letter. She recognised the handwriting immediately.

My dear friend,

As you have no doubt guessed , I am now in the village and waiting to meet you. I’m staying at the inn, I have taken rooms there for the present, please come and see me as soon as you may, I have urgent news for you from Upton Manor.

 My very best wishes,

Ann

Cassie read the note again, there was something slightly odd about it, something she could not quite put her finger on, it seemed a trifle stilted. She smiled and folded it up – never mind that – she could ask Ann herself when they met. She leant down and gave the piece of paper back to the waiting footman.

‘Could you give that to Mr Anderson when he returns? It is very important that he reads it at once. Please tell him that I am going into the village, he will understand.’

The footman turned and hurried back inside, glad to get out of the cold wind; the temperature had risen by several degrees, but the biting east wind blowing straight from the North Sea was still whistling across the fields.

‘I’m only riding to the village, Ned, I really don’t think there’s any need for you to accompany me, whatever Mr Anderson said. I shall go through Home Wood, you may come with me as far as that in order to open the gate. All I have to do is complete the mile to the village along a straight path and that will take me no more than fifteen minutes. I am visiting a friend who’s staying at The Black Sheep, I do not wish anyone to be obliged to wait outside in the cold whilst I’m there.’

The young man looked uncertain, then nodded. ‘If you’re sure, miss, I shall come with you to the gate as you suggest. What time do you think you’ll be returning?’

‘I shall not be above an hour, so if you come back to open the gate at 11 o’clock, you should see me riding across the field.’

Cassie soon found her old expertise came back to her, indeed, the mare was a trifle sluggish for her taste, but ideal for a first venture. When they reached the exit from Home Woods, Ned dismounted and opened the gate for her.

‘The field’s a mite muddy, miss, so I should take it steady.’

‘I’ve no intention of galloping today; it is many years since I’ve been on board a horse, I know my limitations.’

She heard the gate clunk shut behind her and urged her mount into a smooth trot. The path she was following was only visible from the gate at first, then it dipped and ran through a small coppice, over a stream and continued for another few hundred yards until it came to the outskirts of the village.

The sun was out, although with no heat it was shining directly in to her eyes. Cassie was forced to screw them up in order to see ahead, whilst still watching the track for potholes and other imperfections. The last thing she wanted was a fall, Mr Anderson might refuse to lend her a mount next time she asked.

She didn’t see the figures lurking in the trees beside the path so when a horse suddenly appeared in front of her she barely had time to rein back. Bess through her head up in a panic and tried to back away, but a second roughly dressed man appeared and grabbed the bit. Before Cassie could open her mouth to protest her attacker jumped forward. The next thing she knew her foot had been snatched from the stirrup and she was tumbling sideways to the ground. Her head crashed heavily on a stone at the side of the track and everything went black.

 * * * *

Jonathan Anderson cantered back to Martlesham Hall his head full of the problems his tenants were facing, and ways in which he could help them. He had arranged for the cottagers whose homes were damaged to move in to the empty rooms behind the stables. It was not ideal, but they were warm and dry, and they could manage until the repairs were put in hand.

He vaulted from the saddle and tossed his reins to the waiting groom. He was about to turn away when he swung back, his face dark. ‘What the hell are you doing here, Ned? You were told to accompany Miss Roberts on her ride.’

Ned blanched. ‘Miss Roberts has only ridden into the village, sir, I accompanied her as far as the gate, and am to return to meet her thirty minutes from now.’

‘I gave you instructions and expect them to be followed to the letter, I employ you, not Miss Roberts, unless you wish to seek work elsewhere?’

The young man mumbled a response and hung his head, wishing he was anywhere but there.

Jonathan strode back to the house, he had some letters to write before he could leave, but decided he would wait until Cassie returned. As he tossed his riding coat, hat and gloves to the waiting footman the butler appeared, a silver salver in his hand, upon which was a note.

‘Miss Roberts asked expressly for you to read this note, sir, as soon as you returned. She also asked me to inform you that she has ridden down to the village.’

‘Thank you, Foster.’ He took a piece of paper and scanned its contents. Good God! This was excellent news, the missing Miss Roberts had arrived in Martlesham and was staying at The Black Sheep; this meant he wouldn’t have to travel to Kent after all. It also meant that the young woman who was masquerading as a governess could reveal her true self and he could reveal his true feelings. Smiling he turned to Foster.

‘I shall be going out again directly, hand me back my outer garments.’

Pushing the paper into his waistcoat pocket he shrugged back in to his riding coat and jamming his beaver on his head he ran back outside, taking the steps in one bound. Ten minutes later he was astride his horse, Bruno, and cantering through the wood, he didn’t bother to open the five barred gate, he jumped it.

He clattered into the inn and dismounting, tossed his reins to a waiting ostler. He strode into the inn, be met by the landlord.

 ‘Good morning, sir, this is an unexpected pleasure. Can I be of assistance?’

‘I have come to escort Miss Roberts home, she’s visiting a friend who’s staying on your premises.’

The man scratched his head. ‘I fear you’re mistaken, sir, we have no one staying with us at present, and I’ve not seen Miss Roberts at all today.’

Jonathan felt a cold dread to sweep over him. Something had happened to Cassie, she had left Home Wood just over thirty minutes ago, he had not passed her, had seen no sign of her, so where the hell was she?

He forced a smile to his face, no need to worry the innkeeper or start rumours flashing around the village. ‘I must’ve been mistaken, landlord, thank you for your time.’

He leapt down the steps and into the stable yard, snatching the reins from the ostler, he vaulted back into the saddle and pushed the stallion into a gallop, scattering unwary pedestrians in all directions.

He thundered down the High Street, his dramatic passage sending villagers scurrying for safety. So much for wishing to keep matters quiet, he thought ruefully as he jumped back on to the path. He reined in, looking carefully at the way ahead. There was only one place Cassie could have been waylaid, he decided, at the coppice.

 Pushing his horse back into a gallop he raced to the wood. He reined back so sharply the animal was forced back on his hind quarters and almost fell. He jumped down and pulling the reins over the animal’s head shouted, ‘Stay where you are, Bruno.’

He looked around for signs of a recent disturbance. As he had just galloped through, in both directions, it was hard at first tell how many other horses had been this way. Bruno’s large feet were easily recognized, and then he spotted the small and more dainty shape of the mare. He drooped to his knees and next to them were the definite imprint of men’s boots and of another horse. Then he saw something that made his blood run cold.

There was a large stone at the side of the path and as he knelt in the mud he could see quite clearly see the stain of blood, next to it was a dent that could only have been made by a falling body.

Cassie had been abducted, and on the evidence he had before him, she was sorely injured. His eyes narrowed in fury. Whoever had perpetrated this evil deed would not live to speak about it, not if he had his way.

Chapter Seven

Cassie regained consciousness to find herself inside a moving carriage. Her hands were tied behind her back but her feet were still free beneath her skirt. She had lost her hat and her hair was escaping from the bun she’d worn at the nape of her neck. She lay with eyes closed, trying to organise her thoughts. If only her head did not hurt so abominably

She recalled being accosted on the path to the village and then a rough man tipping her out of the saddle, after that a searing pain on her temple and then nothing. The vehicle she was travelling in was moving faster than was wise in the weather conditions. Every few minutes it lurched and bumped as it hit a rut or pothole in the road. She doubted if they were using the toll route, more likely a back lane where the coach wouldn’t be seen, which would account for their unstable progress.

 Of one thing she was certain, her incarceration had been the work of Sir John. Somehow he had persuaded Ann to write the letter that drew her out of the house and allowed his men to abduct her. She was about to attempt to sit up, demand to have to her hands released when something awful occurred to her.

She had supposed that Sir John was having her transported back to Upton Manor in order to force her to marry her cousin. Now she understood she was wrong, if she died he was her only surviving relative and would inherit her fortune.

Although it was her aunt who was her blood relative by law everything belonged to her husband. She had never believed he could stoop to murder. Was he so desperate for money that he would risk his own life to obtain it?

The way she had been treated, tied up and tossed on to the floor, made her believe she was not intended to survive the ordeal. These men were evil villains, taking her somewhere lonely where she could be dispatched and buried and no one the wiser.

Her head hurt, making it difficult to think, to plan how she might escape when the men were least expecting it. If she lay still they would think her still unconscious; her legs were free so when they tried to move her from the coach, that might be her opportunity. She would lash out, and if God was with her, she would be able to run and hide until help arrived.

Cassie had little knowledge of the area she had been living in these past weeks, but she was aware it was about an hour’s ride from Martlesham Hall to the bleak Suffolk coast, an area frequented mainly by smugglers and occasionally by intrepid fishermen. She knew that must be where they were heading, it was the obvious place to dispose of an unwanted female. They wouldn’t even have to kill her, merely throw her into the sea and the water would do the rest.