Terrified as she was, she still spared a moment to read him. He was winded and his ankle hurt, but it wasn’t serious. It wouldn’t stop him coming after her. She stifled a whimper of terror and looked around for a place to hide. He would expect her to get as far from the bluff as
possible. So she would do the unexpected. Crouched over, she carefully inched her way toward the bluff.
Peering over the edge, she scanned the rock face for a ledge, anything that could give her shelter. The mist thinned, and she saw a ledge no bigger than a toehold, about ten feet down.
He was beginning to stir. She could sense it all through her body. On that desperate thought, she slipped over the edge of the bluff and held on for dear life. Then, quietly, cautiously, she felt for a toehold. When she found it, she searched with her dangling foot for another. When both feet were secure, she groped for something to hang on to, then inch by slow inch, she began to lower herself to the ledge.
“Jessica?”
She flattened herself against the rock face, scraping her knees, but she hardly noticed. Her breath was suspended in her lungs as she waited for him to appear above her.
“I know you’re hiding close by. You can’t escape me.”
She heard him move away from her, then she heard nothing. Heart hammering, groping for crevices, she slowly continued her descent.
Under her foot, a rock suddenly gave way and went slithering down the slope, taking other rocks with it. She strangled her scream, but the sound of the rocks falling reverberated in the silence like a thousand echoes. Arms straining, every muscle tensed, she desperately sought for another hold. She found it just as Rupert’s head appeared above her.
He was kneeling on one leg on the turf, close to the edge. Tendrils of mist clung to his shoulders. The breeze ruffled his blond hair and curled it into wisps. When he saw her, he flattened himself on the ground and reached out with both arms. He was going to dislodge her hands and send her hurtling into space.
As those hands came closer, nausea overcame her and her head swam. It wasn’t courage that made her give up
her handholds, but panic. Clinging to the rock face with only her nails, inexorably, she began to slip. She cried out when her feet came to rest on the strip of ledge she’d spied earlier. Not knowing if it could bear her weight, she frantically groped for crevices, projections—anything she could dig her fingers into to bear some of her weight.
“Jessica.”
She looked up.
“Why are you doing this?” He shook his head sorrowfully then he was gone.
She knew he’d be back. It was only a matter of time before he’d be back. She had to put more distance between them. She released one of her handholds to search for another, and the ledge beneath her feet began to give way under the burden of her weight. It was no use. She couldn’t go down, and she couldn’t go up. She was trapped.
She heard him approach the edge of the bluff and she looked up. He loomed above her, poised to catapult a great boulder that he held above his head. She cowered against the cliff, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away.
“I admire your pluck,” he said. “I really do. And strange as it may sound, I bear you no ill will.”
“You’re mad,” she cried.
“No. I’m desperate.”
“Then you’re evil through and through.”
Her words seemed to shake him, but only momentarily. His whole body tensed as he braced himself to make the throw. It never came. She heard a thundering as if a regiment of cavalry was on the move. Then she heard the rush of feet, and men shouting. Rupert was wrenched back from the edge of the precipice. It seemed like forever before another man appeared above her.
Lucas, grim and white-faced, stared down at her.
He flattened himself on the turf and wriggled forward, both hands extended. “Easy now,” he said. “Let’s do this one step at a time. Give me your right hand, Jess.”
Now that he was here, her nerve completely deserted her. Tears welled up. “I don’t think I can.”
“Now!” he commanded, and she gave him her hand.
It was over in a matter of minutes. She was hauled up and set down on the turf. Adrian and Perry were there with drawn pistols. Rupert was grinning sheepishly.
Jessica hardly spared Rupert a glance. She was watching Lucas. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, and beg his forgiveness for locking him in the crypt. The look in his eyes held her back.
“Put up your pistols,” he told Adrian and Perry.
He came to stand an arm’s length from Rupert.
Rupert said, “I suggest that we repair to the house and settle this in a civilized manner.”
Lucas sent him to his knees with a blow to the stomach, then he hauled him up by the collar. “By all means,” he snarled, “let us repair to the house. But don’t expect me to be civilized.” Then he sent Rupert sprawling. “Move!” he roared. “Adrian, watch him.”
Then he came to Jessica and swept her up in his arms. She buried her face against his chest and let the tears come.
CHAPTER
26
T
he first thing Lucas did on entering Haig house was to send one servant to fetch the constable, and another to have Rupert’s carriage brought round to take Jessica home. She would have none of it, and after a short argument, he entered the library and set her on a sofa, then removed his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders. But his eyes did not meet hers.
Once Rupert was in his own sanctum, a change came over him. Though he had not been cowed on the way up, he’d been silent and thoughtful. Now, he took charge of things, assuming the role of host, asking Perry to hand round the brandy decanter. With the exception of Rupert, everyone declined.
He sat at his desk, cradling his glass in both hands. Lucas stood by the empty grate, one arm supported by the solid oak mantel. Adrian stood with his back to one of the small windows. Jessica and Perry sat on the sofa on one side of the fireplace. No one said anything. All eyes were on Rupert.
He said, “I could deny everything, and there is nothing any of you could say in a court of law that would convict me of murder. But I don’t want this to go to a court of law, so I’m going to tell you everything.”
Lucas said harshly, “You tried to murder Jessica and we here are all witnesses. So don’t think you’re going to get away with this.”
“All I’m saying,” replied Rupert, “is that I don’t think this will go to a court of law, leastways, I hope not.”
Jessica’s eyes flew to Lucas, then to Adrian. Their faces were grim, but neither of them contradicted Rupert. This wasn’t going to go to a court of law. She couldn’t believe that they would let Rupert get off scot-free. Once they knew what he’d done, they would change their minds.
She shivered, and smiled at Perry when he patted her hand, but it was a teary smile. He was the only one there who seemed to understand what she was feeling. But there was more to her despondency than that. She could have borne her aches and pains and her blinding headache if Lucas would only look at her. Not once since he’d pulled her from the cliff face had he given her more than a passing glance.
Rupert was speaking again. “You might say,” he said, looking at Lucas, “that we wouldn’t be here now if you had done your duty three years ago. We had a pact, Lucas. You drew the short straw, then you reneged on your promise. When you asked us to meet you at the Black Swan that night, it never occurred to me that you would go back on your word. I was furious, and when I passed Hayward on the way out, I decided to take matters into my own hands. One of us had to remember what we owed our fallen comrade.”
Lucas said, “Our pact had nothing to do with murder, nor would Philip have asked it of us. He wasn’t like that. Our vow was to look after the ones who were left if anything should happen to us in battle. It was a mistake to
draw straws, a mistake I soon came to regret. Murder is the act of an outlaw.”
“It wasn’t murder,” said Rupert curtly. “It was an execution. We all know what manner of man Hayward was. We all know what he did to Philip’s wife. He deserved to die.”
“That isn’t the point. We were all in this together, and we all agreed to call it off. You broke faith with us, Rupert.”
Adrian said, “You shot Hayward in the back.”
Rupert turned his head to look at Adrian and said indifferently, “To throw the authorities off the scent, in case they became suspicious. No one would believe that I would stoop to such a thing. But I repeat, it was an execution, and I’m not sorry I did it. Someone had to.”
Jessica felt herself recoil in horror. She knew now more than ever that her father was anything but a good man. Perhaps he had deserved to die for what he had done to Jane Bragge. But by his admission, Rupert had stooped to the same level as her father, if not lower. What was so chilling was that he could not see it. And it did something to her, to hear them talking so coldly about her father. He was her father, and she had loved him in spite of everything.
Lucas said quietly, “And Rodney Stone? I suppose that was his grave we found in the crypt?”
“We?” asked Rupert.
“Adrian and I. It was Adrian who heard me shouting and opened the crypt door.”
Rupert gave a low laugh. “My, how the fates have conspired against me! If you had been alone in that crypt with the door shut, it would have taken you hours to find a way out. The door is not an exit. There’s another way out that leads to the river. My grandfather modified the crypt when he dabbled in smuggling, oh, in a very small way, you understand. Only for himself and a few
friends.” He clicked his tongue. “Jessica, you did not tell me that Adrian was here, too.”
“I saw you,” said Adrian, looking at Jessica, “and called your name, but you didn’t respond.”
She shrank into Lucas’s coat. “I … I was in a panic.”
Lucas went on as though this aside had not taken place. “The earth in one corner of the crypt had been freshly turned over. Is that where you buried Rodney Stone?”
Rupert inclined his head. “I buried him there when Jessica was convalescing from her fall.”
The implication that he had murdered him there too was not lost on anyone, and there was a complete and abrupt silence before Lucas went on. “Explain how Rodney Stone fits into this, Rupert.”
Rupert took a healthy swallow from his glass and said, “You have to understand first of all that Jessica was a great trial to me. You see, she can read my mind, and I mean that quite literally. I don’t have time to go into all the details. Jessica can explain it to you later, after … well, she’ll explain everything later.”
Perry broke in at this point. “Dash it all, Jess, do you mean to say that it was all true, when we were children and everything, that you really are a bit of a witch?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she said miserably, not daring to look at anyone. “My intuition is sharper than most people’s. And there was only one mind I could ever see into, and then, only rarely. But I never knew whose mind it was.” She darted a lightning glance at Lucas. Nothing showed in his face, neither aversion nor understanding.
A memory came to her vividly—Lucas telling her, quite savagely, when she was a young girl that if she continued to play her games, all her friends would spurn her. Normal people did not wish to associate with witches. After that, she’d been too ashamed to let anyone know that she was different.
Adrian said, “I seem to remember hearing something to that effect, oh, years ago. Lucas, didn’t you—”
“Yes,” said Lucas, “I did, but I thought Jessica was playacting.”
“I wasn’t playacting.”
“So it would seem. Does this mean that you remember everything before you ran away from Hawkshill?”
“I fell in the priory when I was running away from … that is, I banged my head on a rock, and when I came to myself, I began to remember things. I’m not sure yet if my memory has completely returned.”
“I see. Rupert, you were telling us about Rodney Stone.”
So much for the miracle of recovering her memory. She felt like a naughty child who had been reproved with a slap on the wrist. Once again, Perry reached out and patted her hand and she felt a little better.
“If,” said Rupert, “Jessica had not possessed this cursed talent, she would have been quite safe. I admire her. I like her. I always have. I mean that quite sincerely.”
Lucas repeated evenly, “Tell us about Rodney Stone.”
“I met him in London, and later, when I saw I would never be free of Jessica, I hired him to abduct her. I was afraid to act for myself, in case she would read me. But it all went wrong. Jessica … I don’t know. She sensed something.”
“Stone was to abduct her,” said Lucas. “Then what?”
Rupert said nothing, but looked down at the glass he was aimlessly shifting from hand to hand.
Lucas said suddenly, “My God, I don’t believe this!”
It was a long time before anyone spoke, then Adrian said, “But why was it necessary to abduct her? Why not simply kill her in the house or in the grounds?”
“Because,” said Rupert, “it was too risky! Because there were too many people wandering around and I could not leave my guests for long. What difference does it make now?”
He looked at Jessica and she knew why. She was reading his mind, seeing clearly how the whole thing was plotted. “There were two carriages,” she said. “You questioned the wrong driver, Lucas. Stone would have stunned me when I entered the first carriage, then he would have driven me to the crypt and locked me in for Rupert to deal with later. That carriage would have driven away and Stone would have walked back to Haig House. He would have mingled with the guests and left in the carriage that had brought him to the ball. The driver you questioned was above suspicion and would have given Stone an alibi, as, in fact, he did.” She looked down at her hands. “I will say this. Rodney Stone did not know that he was to be an accomplice to murder. He thought Rupert wanted me for … for …”
Lucas spoke as though the words were strangling him. “You would have murdered her and buried her body in the crypt. She would have disappeared again, and I would never have known what had happened to her.”
Another long silence ensued, then Lucas said, “Tell us about the carriage that was to be used in Jessica’s abduction.”