Upon r
eaching the orchard, she ceased running a
nd leaned against the wall
to
catch
her breath. Her racing heart skipped a beat as she heard
voices. She edged to the archway which formed the entrance
and peaked around it. A
pink-faced
, out-of-breath
Felicity
was sitting o
n an old stone bench
, while a furious
James
paced
up and down in front of
her, hands
still
behind his back.
‘
So, madam,
’
he
began
,
‘
now that we are alone, we can be frank
with one ano
ther. I assume
that this nonsense about being unwell is all part of your devious plan?
’
Felicity flashed
him
a beguiling smile.
‘
Congratulations, sir.
You assume correctly.
’
‘
Hmm,
’
muse
d James, continuing his pacing.
‘
And
just
for my own benefit, madam, I will summarise, if I may, what I believe to be your plan.
‘
Oh, please do, sir.
That wil
l serve us both quite well.
’
James toss
ed her a scornful glare.
‘
Very well, then
.
My
understanding of
the situation is th
is:
now that I have apparently been caught seducing you -
against your will
of course
– you are no
w feigning an illness with
all the symptoms one normally associates with
being with
child. When it is discovered, at some point quite soon, that you actually
are
with child, everyone
will naturally assume that I am the father
, al
though,
’
he added in a conspiratorial tone,
‘
we
both know
that I am not
. So,
in order to avoid the most ou
trageous scandal
, I will be forced to marry you and raise the child as if it were my own.
’
Feli
city clapped her hands
in mocking applause.
‘
Goodness,
’
she exclaimed breathlessly,
‘
although I do say so myself, it does sound rather marvellous when you put
it like that.
’
James continu
ed
his pacing.
‘
Can one
assume then, madam, that, as your mother
is still speaking to me,
she
is unaware of your staged
seduction
?
’
Felicity
attempted
a tinkling laugh.
‘
S
he is aware that
something
occurred, sir
.
I
t
old her that, having tricked me into being alone with you,
you could no longer control your feelings
and be
came
a little
amorous
.
A fact which, given how
desperate she is for us to
make
a
match of it, did not displease her in the slightest.
’
‘
Hmm.
And I assume that when the doctors discover
you are actually with child, you will tell your mother that it was conceived during
that incident
?
’
‘
Of course. B
ut as she thinks me an innocent,
I shall
merely
explain that I had no idea what was happening to me.
’
‘
Well, I have to hand it to you, Miss Carmichael,
’
pronounced James, stopping his pacing directly in front of her,
‘
it does indeed appear to be
a first-class plan. I take it
that the true fath
er of the child is unaware
you have conceived?
’
‘
O
f course,
’
chirped Felicity.
‘
He has served his purpose famously and has, I can assure you, been very well
-rewarded for his efforts.
I believe the man to have received more from our little
arrangement
than he would earn in five years from his work on the farm.
’
James’s upper lip curled into a sneer.
‘
Your ge
nerosity
knows no bounds
.
’
Felicity regarded him beatifically.
‘
T
hank you, sir
. I
do think it
so
important tha
t the future
Duchess of Ormiston
is in possession of certain
admirable
q
ualities. Do you not agree
?
’
‘
Oh indeed I do
,’ hissed James
.
‘
But I should point out
that you are not in possession of a single one of the qualities which
I
consider to be admirable,
’
and with that
,
he turned on his heel and stormed out of the orchard.
Eleanor held her breath and pressed her body tig
ht to the wall as he strode by
her.
Her effort was wasted.
James Prestonville
appeared
completely absorbed in his thoughts and, by the murderous expression on his face, there was little doubt what those thoughts were.
EIGHTEEN
T
he hoot of an owl
awoke
Eleanor with a start.
Anxious that the bird sounded so close it might take it into its head to fly inside the room, she ran to the window and quietly closed it. As she did so, the owl swooped down, menacingly surveying its prey with haunting orange eyes. Eleanor watched it for sever
al minutes before sleep overtook her again. She was on the
verge of
returning to bed when she
heard a
sound in the corridor
,
exactly
the same sound she had
heard several nights before
:
Jam
es Prestonville
en
route
yet again
to his lover
’s
room.
Beset by a painful combination of
anger and jealousy
, a
ll
notions of sleep
d
eserted her as she
lay awake
,
tossing and turning,
attempting
to push al
l torturous thoughts of what might
be happening in the room at the end of the corridor, out of her mind.
In a flash
,
however,
every trace of thought completely deserted her as, with no warning at all, her bedchamber door burst open. Eleanor immediately jerked upright
, the
hairs on the back of her neck stand
ing
on end at the horrific sight before her. The
Wailing Whitlock Widow
,
in her gown of dirty white chiffon, drifted into
the room
, moaning and wailing, her dark hair hanging wildly over her face and shoulders
. Eleanor
watched the vision astounded; her mouth gaping open; her mind a complete blank. The spirit appeared oblivious to her audience, drifting agitatedly around the room, presumably continuing the eternal search for her husband. Failing yet again, she came to a standstill in front of the fireplace and, raising her arms upward, emitted a pitiful, high-pitched wail, which c
ut through Eleanor like a steel blade
.
Unable to bear it a second longer, she
screwed
her eyes shut and clamp
ed
both hands over her ears. Several seconds later, she
hesitantly opened her eyes to find the woman
gone and the door c
losed.
Terror turned to relief
as she sagged
against
t
he
pillows, her heart racing. She
had been scared to de
ath.
Death.
Milly’s
observation
, f
ollowing
t
he accident at the
soir
ée, crashed
into her mind.
Was that the intention? Was the ghost another ploy to kill her?
Was
somebody trying to scar
e her to death? Her mind
whirling,
she
reflected on the events of the last few weeks: the incident with the carriage following the Carmichaels’ ball; the near-miss with the arrow at the Stanningtons’ garden party; the
arrow
which had caused the fall from her horse; and the open trap doo
r and pickaxe at the Ilingsworths’
soirée
.
She sat bolt upright yet again as a stab of realization pierced her
.
How could she have bee
n so dim? Milly was
right: someone was out to kill her
and she could think of only one person who could hate her that much -
Felicity Carmichael.
Felicity
was aware that Eleanor had overheard two of her conversations with James: two conversations in which the girl had
clearly
outlined her ruthless plans to become the new Duchess of Ormiston
; two conversation
s
which, if
Eleanor chose to disclose the contents
, had the potential to
seriously hinder
Felicity’s callous ambitions. Obviously, having gone t
o such lengths
to achieve her ends, Fe
licity would allow nothing to
get in her way. Not even a little thing like murder.
Having reached her shocking conclusion, Eleanor
wondered what to do about it. She could,
of course,
admit to
James that she knew of Felicity’s scheming and
t
ogether
they
could make public the girl’s wicked plans. However, if Felicity really was with child, then their chances of being believed were m
inimal, particularly given
the staged sed
uction scene that
had been witnessed by two of the most notorious gossips and one of the most respect
ed gentlemen
in Society.
No, if they publiciz
ed Felicity’s scheme without any proof, then
it would be assumed
that James, having ruined the girl, was
simply
trying to
avoid marrying
her
.
Moreover, i
f she did
confess her murder theory to James
, he was in such bad humour that
he would most likely brand her as a neurotic female
and her theory as
utter
nonsense
. What she really needed
was
concrete evidence of Felicity’s scheming; something that would prove
the extent of the girl’s evil plans. An idea s
truck her
. S
uddenly s
he knew exactly how to do it and just who to help her.
T
he
area in front of the
Maguires’ house was, as usual, filled with a crowd of laughing, screaming children
- a scene that caused
E
leanor
to smile as she brushed away a
nother st
ab of envy at
the joy of
having a large family around.
‘
Goodness
, miss,
’
exclaimed
a wide-eyed Mrs Maguire, the moment Eleanor appeared. ‘
It
ain’t half a pleasure to see you
.
’
‘
And you too, Mrs Maguire,
’
smil
ed Eleanor.
‘
I was wondering
if I might have a word with Ed?
’
‘
He’s working at Mick
e
y Humphrey’s
farm, miss
.
Come in and have a dish of tea while I send one of the young one’s over to fetch him.
’
‘
Oh ther
e’s no need for that,
’
protested Eleanor.
‘
I can
ride over there
myself. But I certainly wouldn’t say
no to a dish of tea
before I go
.
’
The house, now completely free of rats, was cosy, clean and welcoming
,
full of laughter and the smell of fresh bread. Perhaps, mused Eleanor as she chatted with Mrs Maguire, it wouldn’t be so bad being married with a home of one’s own after all – a happy home filled with love and children: a home exactly like the Maguires’.
T
wo hours
and several cups of tea
later, Eleanor rode over to Mickey Humphrey’s farm. Ed
was
working alone in one of the field
s
.
As usual
he was
delighted to see her
, fussing
around
as she dismounted her
horse
and tethered it to the fence
.
‘
I’m glad I’ve caught you alone, Ed,
’
she began
.
‘
I have quite a …
sensitive
matter to discuss with you.
’
Ed looked taken aback.
‘
I ain’t done nothing wrong
,
have I, miss?
’
he
aske
d, running
a brown hand through his
blond hair.
‘
No, of course not.
Quite the contrary in fact. Mr Humphreys informs me you are doing a marvellous job here.
’
Ed flushed at the praise.
‘
I’m doing my best, miss.’
‘
Of that I have no doubt, Ed,
’
beam
ed Eleanor.
‘
But what I wa
nted
to speak to you about has nothing to do with your work.
I was h
oping that you could help me with something.
Tell me, Ed, do you know of a young lady by the name of Felicity Carmichael …
?
’
At the stable block e
arly th
e next morning, Eleanor had just mounted
the chestnut mare wh
en she spotted James, dressed in his
riding attire
,
striding across the courtyard towards her. She had been relieved that neither he nor Madeleine had been at breakfast.
It was
difficult to look at either of them without a series of shocking images flooding her mind regarding their furtive night-time activities. She only wondered why he bothered to feign such impatience with the woman during daylight hours.
‘
Lady Eleanor,
’
he said brusquely in greeting. His expression was grave and he
looked exhausted.
Hardly
surprising
,
concluded
Eleanor,
with a pang of resentment.
Not finding it within herself to
smile at him
, she
merely nodded in acknowledgement of his greeting and trotted straight by him.
She had just reached the bottom of the gravelled drive, though, when
her horse began to limp.
Drawing the beast to a halt, she
jumped
down from the saddle and secured the reins on the wrought iron gate.
Inspecting the animal’s right hind shoe
, she found, just as she had
suspected
, a
larg
e pebble
. She had removed many such
objects at home and could remove this one
, too – if she could borrow a knife from one of the grooms.
Leading the horse by the reins, Eleanor had
just reached the courtyard, when there was a
blood-curdling
scream.
She
dropped the
r
eins and flew to the stable block from whence the sound had come. Three of the grooms, who had been swilling
down
the ya
rd,
dropped their brushes and buckets and darted into the building before her
. The first
sight they saw as they entered
was James Prestonville with his back pressed
to the wall. The second
was a pitchfork, standing proud in the ground
-
inches from James’s booted feet.
Eleanor’s eyes grew wide
. This was yet another ‘accident’ and one
which
, from
the look on James’s face,
had given him
an almighty fright
.
‘
Lord
, sir,
’
exclaim
ed Jack, one of the grooms, breaking the astounded silence
.
‘
W
hat happened?
’
James swallowed
hard
.
‘
I have no idea
. No soone
r
had I
stepped out of Samson’s stall, when this pitchfo
rk fell from the hayloft
.
’
Jack
removed his cap and scratched his head
.
‘
Must’ve been rats, sir.
But you haven’t half been lucky
. Had a right near miss
,
you have.
’