To Walk in the Sun (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies - Book 1) (32 page)

“We will be there also, I am sure there are
places to hide,” Hopkins assured her.

Vincent let out a bitter laugh. “There is no
place to hide.”

“I don’t understand.” Hopkins turned to him,
a question in his eyes. Despite his assurance to Tess, Vincent knew
the man was terrified for his daughter. Vincent was impotent to
help Tess, whom he had known all of a week. He couldn’t imagine
Hopkins’ worry for his own daughter.

“Where am I to meet Percer?” Tess stepped
forward and asked.

Vincent looked up and took in her grey
frightened eyes. “At my wife’s grave.”

“The man is a rather morbid bastard, isn’t
he?” Hopkins walked to the sideboard and refilled his glass. “But
surely there is somewhere we can wait to save my daughter, kill him
and protect Miss Crawford.”

Vincent sighed and sank into his chair. There
was a possibility Hopkins and those he trusted on his staff could
hide somewhere in the cemetery, but what was
he
to do? Wait
here and hope Tess returned unharmed?
Not bloody likely.
He
glanced out the window once again. The sun had moved and his entire
patio was in the shade. It was too much to hope for but he rose and
walked outside to check the sky. Not a cloud in sight.

He ran his fingers through his hair and tried
to concentrate. There had to be some way he could be there, to
protect Tess if nothing else, without the crippling pain. He
studied the area, closed his eyes and viewed the landscape in his
mind. He opened them again and looked straight ahead. It was his
only option.

Vincent turned and went back inside. “Percer
demands that Tess meet him at my wife’s grave at four this
afternoon. The area is open so he will know if anyone accompanies
her.”

Tess sank down into a chair and grasped her
hands together.

“You are to walk from here, not take a
carriage, so he knows you are alone.”

He could see Tess swallow as her face paled
further.

“You and I both know it is near impossible to
get from here to the cemetery without being seen.”

“You will have to stay here, won’t you?” Her
eyes moistened. She blinked a few times to clear them.

“Why? I don’t understand,” Hopkins
interrupted. Vincent had almost forgotten the man was in the room
in his concern for Tess.

“I can’t go in the sun. Percer knows this,
which is why I am sure he picked the place he did. There are few
trees in the cemetery, and none near my wife’s grave.”

“Then how are we to rescue my daughter and
protect Miss Crawford?” the man demanded. “I will gladly go on my
own, but I don’t believe one of us is enough, not if we want to
protect them both.” He glanced at Tess and offered a sad, yet
apologetic small smile.

She nodded her head in understanding.

Of course Hopkins would see to his daughter
first, as would any father. “We will simply take a separate
route.”

* * *

Tess pulled her cloak tight and attempted to
button it. Her hands shook too much to accomplish the task and
Natalie had to take over for her. When she was finished she hugged
Tess to her.

“It will be alright. I know it in my heart,”
Natalie assured her friend.

Tess offered up a weak smile. She was not so
sure. Was this what walking to the gallows felt like? Though
Vincent tried to assure her that he would protect her, Tess could
not understand how that was possible. The man could not even be in
a room with the curtain open on a bright day. How could he protect
her in an open cemetery with the sun beating down on her?

“I’ll say a prayer, but I am sure this will
end as it is supposed to.” Claudia pulled her into her arms and
squeezed her tight before relinquishing Tess to Mrs. Wiggons.

“Now, you don’t be frightened.” She pressed a
small gun into Tess’ hands. “My husband gave this to me long ago. I
have kept it in working order and it is loaded.” She looked Tess
directly in the eye. “Do not be afraid to use it.”

Tess glanced down at the small pistol and her
stomach clenched. She hadn’t held a gun since that fateful night
she killed her uncle. Could she pull the trigger again? She wasn’t
so sure. She still hadn’t fully recovered from the last time she
took a man’s life.

As if reading her mind, Mrs. Wiggons
continued. “If not for yourself, then use it to save Sophia, if
necessary.”

Tess looked up at her and found a new
determination. Yes, she could kill Percer if it meant saving
Sophia, Hopkins or Vincent. She just wasn’t so sure she could use
it to save herself. This she would not share with her employer.
But, if she did have to shoot, this time she would
not
miss.

“We will be right here, waiting for you to
come back. The tea will be hot and Cook promised more of those
lemon cakes you love.”

Tess allowed them to escort her to the door.
One would think with Mrs. Wiggon’s words and tone she was simply
going into town to shop.

At the door she turned to look at the three
of them once again. Their brows were etched with worry, but they
smiled encouragement. With a weak smile she turned and began her
walk down the drive. Though Percer said he would meet her by the
tombstone, she didn’t trust that he wouldn’t try to stop her along
the way.

Her hand slipped into her pocket and she
lifted the gun. The weight felt good in her hand and offered her
courage. Tess stepped onto the road. Head up, she looked in all
directions. She could do this. Lives depended on her accomplishing
this task and she could never live with herself if something
horrible happened to Sophia because of her own fear.

* * *

Vincent ran from the back of the house and
into the trees. As soon as he was in the shade he collapsed against
a tree. Though he had kept his head down, sunlight had still
reached his eyes and sent searing pain through his head. He wiped
the sweat from his brow and steadied his breath. He could do this.
He
must
do this. He could not fail Tess, even if it killed
him in the process.

Hopkins eyed him with concern. Wesley stepped
forward and handed him a canteen. Vincent assumed it was water and
took a deep drink. He coughed as brandy scorched his throat.

He rested with his hands on his knees a few
more minutes, until his breathing was regular once more before he
looked up.

“Can you do this, Lord Atwood,” Wesley asked
as he studied Vincent.

“I
have
to do this.” He pushed away
from the tree and began his trek through the woods. The same tree
line that bordered his property was the same for the cemetery. He
could only hope nothing had been cut down in between or he wasn’t
sure he could make it to his destination.

* * *

Tess took a deep breath and willed her heart
to calm as she approached the bend in the lane. This was the only
blind spot on her walk and she could not see what awaited her up
ahead. Once again she tested the weight of the gun. Yes, she would
use it if necessary.

With slow, deliberate steps she rounded the
corner. A man walked toward her. She tightened her hold. She could
not make out his face due to the glare of the sun.

“Good afternoon, Miss Crawford,” Mr. Connor
called out.

Tess almost collapsed with relief. “Good day,
Mr. Connor,” she returned.

The man came up to her and paused. Now was
not a time for pleasantries among neighbors. She couldn’t be late
for her destination.

“It is a lovely day for a walk.” He smiled at
her.

“Yes, it is.”
Please move on, I can’t
chitchat right now
.

“I was going to ride over to the school, but
decided a stroll would do me good.”

On any other occasion Tess would have
inquired about the horses or why he was going to their school.
There was really nothing to see and he wasn’t working on the
building. The only connection this man had was that he currently
stabled their horses, and his infatuation with Mrs. Wiggons. That
must be his purpose.

“Mrs. Wiggons is not at the school. She is at
Lord Atwood’s estate.”

The man blushed and looked away. “Thank you
for that information.” He tipped his hat to her. “Have a pleasant
afternoon.”

He moved on and Tess sighed with relief. Had
he known what she was about, she was fairly certain he would
not
be wishing her a pleasant afternoon.

* * *

Vincent arrived at the back of the cemetery
and looked out at the sea of tombstones. Percer was no where in
sight. That didn’t mean he wasn’t hiding somewhere. But, Vincent
had arrived an hour early, so perhaps Percer was not here yet.

From this position he was too far to be of
any use to Tess. Even if he shot at Percer, he doubted his ability
to strike his target. No, he had to move closer.

Vincent looked over at the family crypt. It
was only a few yards from Veronica’s grave. Could he make it there
without being seen? Could he make it there without collapsing in
pain? He didn’t have a choice.

He glanced around. Hopkins emerged a few
yards away and ran to the back of another crypt. This also put him
close to Veronica’s grave. Wesley did the same to his right. This
left Vincent as the only one who still cowered in the woods. The
crypt lay two yards ahead and the earth between was blanketed in
sunlight.

Vincent took a deep breath and brought his
cloak over his head. It was now or never. With his head down,
trying to shield the light, he dashed from the trees to the side of
the family crypt. The task practically brought him to his knees. No
matter how much he tried to shield his eyes, it was impossible with
the angle of the sun from the direction he was running. Percer must
have counted on this.

Sweat broke out on his brow and Vincent sank
to the ground. He took deep breaths and willed the pain away. Once
again he took a drink from the canteen Wesley had forced into his
hands when they left the estate.

The cool shade on this side of the crypt
helped lessen his pain, but not enough that he didn’t want to
vomit. These headaches always made him ill.

After a few minutes he pulled himself from
the ground. All he had to do was round the corner and duck inside.
He knew the door had not been fixed and he counted on easy access
into the structure. Vincent took another deep drink, followed by a
deep breath and bolted to the front and inside the door. He
collapsed once again against the wall and slid to the floor.

I will not be sick
.

Vincent cradled his head in his hands and
breathed deep and exhaled slowly. He willed the pain way. The dark
dampness of the room calmed his heart and eventually the tension
eased. When he determined he was as recovered as possible, he
looked up and took in the room, shocked at the discovery.

Sophia sat against the sarcophagus, her eyes
wide, frightened and watching him. A gag was tied around her head.
He crawled forward and pulled the offensive item from her mouth. A
tear trickled down her cheek.

“Hush. We will save you,” he assured the poor
girl.

“Percer said he was going to seal me in here
once he had the map. He tied me up so I couldn’t escape.” More
tears followed her statement. Vincent wished he had a clean
handkerchief to wipe her face.

“Don’t worry, that is not going to happen.”
He leaned down and untied the rope from her ankles. He then
smoothed her skirts over her feet so Percer wouldn’t know she had
been freed, if he bothered to check. Next, he did the same with her
hands. “Keep your hands behind you and your feet covered.”

She nodded her head.

“I hate to do this, but I don’t want Percer
to know I am here.”

“I understand.” Relief and gratitude shone in
her eyes and Vincent pulled the gag up but did not put it back in
her mouth. He sat back on his heels and studied the poor girl.
Unless Percer looked closely, he would never know the girl was
free.

“If there is trouble, move out of the
way.”

She nodded her head to show she
understood.

Vincent moved to the opposite end of the
sarcophagus and ducked down out of sight. He angled his head around
the stone box and a direct view of Veronica’s grave the gate
beyond. Percer was still nowhere to be seen, but Tess had just
entered the cemetery. His heart nearly stopped at the sight of her.
He hoped Percer was true to his word, for once, and he would not
harm either lady. But he knew it was too good to be true. Tess was
only safe as long as she had the map pieces.

* * *

Tess looked around. The cemetery was empty
but for the stones and crypts along the back border. With careful
yet determined steps she made her way to Lady Atwood’s headstone.
Once again her hand weighed the gun in her pocket. It offered a
small comfort.

“Prompt as usual.”

Tess whipped around to find Percer
approaching from the front of the church. A gun leveled on her.
Tess grasped her own tighter.

He drew closer, studied her, then looked
around.

Had he always the look of a madman? No, the
Percer she recalled was always put to rights, his hair neatly
trimmed and combed and waistcoats of the latest fashion. The man
before her was disheveled, pale and his eyes shot in every
direction in fear.

“This way.” He motioned with the gun for her
to walk to the Atwood crypt. Why there? Did he know Vincent was
waiting within? What if Vincent hadn’t arrived yet?

Her steps were slow and steady. She tripped
on a root and stumbled to her knees.

Percer grabbed her elbow and yanked her up.
“Stop dawdling,” he ground out and pushed her forward.

Tess stumbled once again but did not fall.
With each step toward the opening of the crypt her heart pounded
harder. She didn’t want to go in there. It was safer, out here in
the open. What did he plan to do?