The Duke's Dilemma (14 page)

She heard steps on the ceiling; she would
recognize Ralph anywhere. After putting the heavy basket over one arm she
lifted her skirts, and candle in the other hand, she hurried up the stairs. She
emerged into the scullery and left the vegetables on the table. Her hands were
thick with mud and she turned back to search for a pail of water to wash them,
but there was none; no one had been outside to fetch fresh-water.

She found a clean rag and did her best to
remove the soil from her hands. She could hear Ralph talking to Birdie and then
the bolts were being drawn back in the passageway that ran parallel to the
kitchen. He was going out and he hadn’t bothered to come in and bid her good
morning. After what had passed between them, they were more than good friends,
surely?

She rushed into the kitchen, skidding to a halt
in surprise. ‘Ralph, I thought I heard you going out.’

She watched his mouth quirk. Hastily she pushed
her hands behind her back. ‘There’s no water and we all have to do our bit
since we have so few staff here.’

‘I know, sweetheart. It’s not your hands I was
concerned about – you’ve a large smudge of dirt across your cheek.’

Mortified she clapped her hands to her face
adding to the mess. ‘Don’t you dare to laugh at me; if you were a gentleman you
wouldn’t stand there smirking but find me something to remove it.’ Her words
were sharp but her eyes were laughing.

He reached into his coat pocket and, removing a
clean white handkerchief, a; pointed to a chair. ‘Sit down, my dear, and I’ll
restore your countenance. At the moment you look like an urchin.’

Hester saw him tip a small quantity of hot
water, from the kettle warming on the range, on to the cloth. She noticed his
fingers were strong and brown, not like the white hands one associated with the
aristocracy. She settled comfortably on the upright kitchen chair and tilted
her face.

He squatted in front of her, then reached out
and, grasping her chin, briskly rubbed away the mud. His touch was impersonal;
he didn’t take the opportunity to stoke her face lovingly, there was no sign of
the warmth and passion they had shared the previous night. She felt herself
shrivel inside. Had her wanton
behaviour
given him a
disgust of her? Was she considered a girl with no morals, someone unsuitable?
She tried to twist her head from his hand, but his fingers tightened.

‘Sit still, you goose, you don’t want anyone
else to see you like this, do you?’

Even his voice was matter-of-fact, like an
exasperated parent, not a lover. This was too much. She hadn’t wanted to fall
in love with him, not wished ... her head flew back. She couldn’t help the gasp
of pain as her already tender skull cracked painfully against the wooden chair.
Tears filled her eyes that had nothing to do with distress.

‘What is it? You ninny, let me look.’

His sympathy was too much for her frayed
nerves. A surge of anger at him, at the loss of her beloved dog, at everything,
raged through her. ‘Remove your hands from my person, Waverley. Haven’t you
done me enough damage already? I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. Why
don’t you go and do something useful? Find my dog, for instance.’ Her icy glare
was returned in full measure. She saw him swallow and his lips thinned. He
straightened, glowering at her.

‘I beg your pardon, Miss Frobisher. I have no
wish to intrude.’

He was very angry. Should she apologize, tell
him it was her headache that had made her speak so? But she couldn’t find the
words and he turned his back leaving the matter unresolved.

The clatter of cutlery heralded the arrival of
Birdie, but when he greeted her companion his manner was friendly, his tone
light. Whilst they were conversing about the events of the night she slipped
away, across the passageway back upstairs to her bedroom where she found a
facecloth to complete what he had started.

She wasn’t going to go downstairs until he was
outside; she had no wish to see that look in his eyes a second time. She busied
herself tidying – as the girls were helping in the kitchen and the diary they
would have no free time to come upstairs.

 
She made
up the fire, cleaned out the ashes and dusted the room. Pleased with her
efforts she washed her hands again, brushed her skirts free of dust and was
done. She looked around; there was nothing more to do. She would sit on the
window seat and read her novel.

She stared out of the tiny casement and gasped.
Neddingfield
was
haunted – they
were
dealing with ghosts. Only the
supernatural could have enabled the snowmen to move themselves across the grass
and turn to face the woods. She had to speak to Ralph; it no longer mattered if
he was cross with her, she needed him, he was the only one who could protect
her from the evil that was closing in.

Chapter Fourteen

Ralph heard Hester leave and cursed himself for
mishandling the situation. He had

deliberately
adopted a more formal manner believing she wouldn’t want to be reminded of what
had almost taken place the night before. Being forced to live in such close
proximity was going to become a test of his inner strength. His lips curved as
he remembered her softness, the way her eyes looked in to his with such
sincerity….

‘Your grace, what do you think?’

He had heard nothing Miss Bird had said in the
past few minutes; he had been woolgathering. He nodded sagely and said
something ambiguous hoping his answer would satisfy whatever question she had
asked previously.

‘I shall leave you to continue your excellent
management of the house, Miss Bird. I must go outside and search for the
missing dog.’ Robin was waiting for him looking even more disconsolate than he
had yesterday.

‘Your grace, I think we should leave this
place, not stay until we’ve all been picked off one by one. Neddingfield is
haunted.’

‘Nonsense. Someone is trying to convince us the
place has ghosts, it’s up to you and I to disprove it. Good God! You’ve faced
far worse. Don’t waver now, Robin, I need you by my side.’

‘I’m not leaving you, I didn’t say I’d do that;
what I’m saying, your grace, is that we should all go before it’s too late.
Polly was here a moment ago telling Tom those snowmen you built have walked
across the park. I tell you that’s not the work of humans. I never met walking
snowmen, not even in Spain.’

 
‘God’s
teeth! What next? Are you coming with me or are you going to hide in here?’

Robin scowled, but tied his muffler tighter.
The sky was heavy, no sign of the sun today.

‘I think we’re in for more snow any minute,
Robin. Even if we wanted to leave, by the time we’re ready there’ll be a
blizzard blowing.’

He checked his pistol was in his pocket then he
led his reluctant valet outside to investigate. Sure enough the snowmen were no
longer in front of the study window but had moved fifty yards nearer to the
wood and were facing in the opposite direction. There were no footprints in the
snow and the smoothness behind each could be interpreted as the pathway they’d
made as they shuffled forward of their own volition. In spite of his
reassurances to Robin the hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

He walked up to the first snowmen and pushed
it; it shot forward several inches as if on wheels. ‘Good God! So that’s how
they did it. Here, Robin, help me tip this object upside down.’

As he’d expected the base was sheet ice, so his
theory was correct. ‘Ingenious, but no ghosts involved. Somebody sliced this
snowman from its base and then tipped water over and waited until it froze. It
would have been easy to slide them along the grass and leave them as they are
now. They couldn’t have done it if the snowmen hadn’t been solid; remember, the
past twenty-four hours it hasn’t risen above freezing.’

He watched Robin walk over to the other snowmen
and found they had all been treated in the same way. The tension drained from
his man – finally all thoughts of ghosts had been dispelled. ‘Whoever is
orchestrating these events has been helped by the unseasonable weather. No
doubt if there had been no snow we would have been treated to floating

apparitions
and clanking chains.’

‘I’m sorry, your grace, but until this moment I
was almost sure there were ghosts here. But

if
this is man-made, then so were the rest of the events. Which means that dog
must be somewhere.’

*

‘Birdie, do you know where the duke is? I need
to speak to him most urgently. Do you know the snowmen have moved?’

Meg, who had been setting out the requirements
for luncheon, dropped the cutlery she was holding with a clatter on the floor.
‘Oh, Miss Frobisher, Polly and I saw them last night. We quite made up our
minds to leave today, but once it’s light and we’re all down here together,
things don’t seem quite so scary.’

‘What nonsense is this? The snowmen moving? I
rather think not. Just forget about it and get on with your work, my girl.’

Meg curtsied and knelt to pick up the spilt
knives and forks. ‘Yes, madam. I’m sorry, I’m sure.’

Hester was about to continue the conversation
when her companion shook her head. ‘Why don’t you put on your outdoor garments
and go and see how the horses are doing? They haven’t been exercised for two
days so no doubt they’ll all be in need of company and distraction.’

‘I’ll do that, Birdie. Where’s Polly? I’ve not
seen her this morning.’

‘She’s gone with Smith to show him how to milk
a cow; no doubt they’ll be back here in due course.’

It took barely ten minutes to change into her
stoutest boots, put on her pelisse, warm cloak and bonnet. She paused, glancing
into the small mantel mirror to check her appearance. In spite of her lack of
sleep her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks becomingly pink. Being in love
obviously suited her.

It was strange how these things happened, but
she supposed that she and Ralph had spent more time together in the past few
days than many couples did in six months. Her dear friend, Charlotte had only
spoken alone to her prospective husband on three occasions before he made her
an offer. They had both known they would suit from the first moment, Charlotte had told her
firmly. She frowned. What a shame their initial delight in each other’s company
had so quickly faded. If they had known each other longer, would they still
have married?

She scowled. She had no intention of giving up
her freedom; the fact that she found herself inexplicably in love with Ralph
didn’t mean they had to become man and wife. No, even if he did propose again
and she accepted, she would insist on a long engagement. He could come and
spend time with her at
Draycot
Manor and she would
attend soirees and musical evenings in London
with him during the season. Maybe such pastimes could be pleasant if escorted
by someone like him.

Outside a few flakes of fresh snow dampened her
upturned face; they were already knee deep in the wretched stuff, the last
thing they wanted was any more. She comforted herself with the thought that if
they were unable to move then the same should apply to those who wished them
harm. Birdie was right; it was ridiculous to think the Hall should inexplicably
be inhabited by a host of ghosts at exactly the same time as her aunt
disappeared and Ralph inherited an unlooked-for dukedom.

In spite of the shortage of manpower the
cobbled pathways were swept clear and her journey round to the stable block was
accomplished without mishap. She paused as she passed the dairy; Polly’s
explaining how you churned the cream into butter.

How fortuitous the girl had turned out skilled
in so many tasks. Hester felt ashamed of herself, she was several years the
girl’s senior but she had spent her life in idle luxury. Without Birdie and
Polly none of them would have eaten and the cows would have gone
unmilked
.

As she reached the stable doors she saw Ralph
and his valet approaching. She was about to call out a greeting when a familiar
shape hurtled from the woods and the words froze in her throat.

‘Jet! Jet, where have you been, you bad dog?
We’ve been so worried about you.’ The animal’s thick coat was snow encrusted
but otherwise he appeared unharmed. He threw himself at her and reeling
backwards, unable to keep her balance on the slippery stones, she tumbled
sideways into a snow drift with her dog on top of her.

Thinking this was some new kind of game,
instead of allowing her to stand, the wolfhound put his paws on her chest,
pinning her to the ground and covered her face with wet licks.

‘Get off! Stop this nonsense.’ Ralph’s voice
snapped like a whip and the dog obeyed instantly. Hester lay dazed, unable to
move, three quarters of her person smothered in snow. ‘Up you come, my love.’

She found herself yanked unceremoniously to her
feet; before she could protest he started to bang her clothes with such
vigour
she almost tumbled anew.

‘Stop it, Ralph. I’m quite capable of removing
the snow for myself.’

He grinned up at her from where he was crouching
at her feet vigorously shaking snow from the folds of her cloak. ‘There, I’ve
done now. Where did the animal come from? He shot past us so fast I didn’t have
time to look.’

‘He came from the path that leads into the
woods, but how he ended up there I’ve no idea.’

‘Neither have I. Go inside, darling, I’ll deal
with this.’ He grinned down at her and a delightful warmth spread through her
insides. ‘Robin, find Tom and bring him indoors with you. We’ll need lanterns
if you can find them.’ She hesitated, not wishing to leave his side.

‘Sweetheart, although I’ve removed the worst as
the snow melts you’ll become chilled.’ His expression was serious as he
continued. ‘There’s a lot more coming and we can’t send for help. Whatever’s
going to happen here we shall have to deal with it ourselves.’

 
Putting
his arm around her waist he hurried her along the path making it impossible for
her to speak, as she needed all her concentration to maintain her balance.
Ralph threw open the back door and they both stepped in just as the snow began,
obliterating the pathway in seconds.

‘Here, let me help you take off your cloak and
bonnet.’

She’d been about to tell him she was quite
capable of doing it herself but saved her
 
breath. She fingered her pelisse; apart from the cuffs and hem it was
dry.

‘It’s so cold that I think I’ll keep this on.
Ralph, tell me how you think Jet came to be in the woods when the last time I
saw him he was in the hall?’

‘You said that you heard him barking after he
vanished?’

‘Of course! I said he sounded as though he was
inside the walls. He must have found a secret passage, though how he managed to
open something like that on his own …’ Her voice faded as she realized the only
way her dog could have entered a secret passage was if someone had left it
open.

‘I told you, sweetheart, whilst there’s breath
in my body no one shall harm you. This does mean someone tried to get in last
night. Your dog’s a bloody marvel! Without his intervention you could have been
taken.’

Not sure if she was more shocked by the
suggestion that she could have been abducted or by his language. ‘Ralph! Such
profanity is not something I’m not used to hearing.’

He reached out and grasped her arm, pulling her
towards him. ‘I’m a rough soldier, my love, You’ll have to get used to hearing
the odd curse or blasphemy.’ He continued to draw her inextricably nearer. They
were standing in full view of everyone. Flustered, she settled back on her
heels, throwing her weight back. His mouth curved; instead of exerting more
pressure, he did the reverse. Taking a stride forward, thus unbalancing her,
she found herself falling towards the floor. He was able to capture her before
she reached it.

 
‘Let me
go, Ralph, I’ve no wish to be manhandled in this way.’

To her astonishment he released his grip and
let her drop the remaining few inches with a thud. Incensed she glared up at
him standing astride her prostrate form, thick golden hair in disarray, like a
pirate in a storybook.

Neither of them heard Miss Bird emerging from
the kitchen to see what all the fuss was. ‘My dear girl, you have a nasty
propensity lately for tumbling to the floor. Kindly stand aside, your grace,
and allow me to assist Miss Frobisher to her feet.’

He stepped to one side; his lips pressed
together trying not to laugh. Hester was in no mind to do so.

‘Thank you, Birdie, I should be grateful for
your assistance as none has been forthcoming elsewhere.’ She sent a dagger look
in his direction but he winked at her roguishly then turned away to greet Robin
and Tom as they are you clattered through the door.

Their appearance gave her the impetus to bounce
upright bristling with annoyance. Adopting her most formal tone she addressed
the back of his shaking shoulders ‘And another thing, Lord Colebrook, kindly
desist from larding your conversation with unnecessary and unwanted
endearments. It’s neither appropriate nor helpful.’

Not waiting to hear his response, Birdie’s
scandalized stare was enough to tell her she should have kept the comments to
herself. She skipped nimbly into the kitchen, placing herself firmly on the far
side of the table, waiting to see if he followed her in.