Carisbrooke Abbey (25 page)

‘Unfortunately it doesn’t. The passage continues for another ten feet or so, and then it is blocked.’

‘With what?’

‘Rocks, soil ... ‘ he said.

‘Has it always been blocked?’

‘Yes, ever since I can remember it.’ He became thoughtful. ‘Still, it could once have formed a way out, I suppose. It would have provided the priest with an escape route if the room had been discovered.’

‘Then I suggest we take a look. If the passage continues beyond the blockage then we might be able to find another exit.’

Marcus picked up his branched candlestick. Taking her hand, he led her out of the priest’s hole and together they followed the passage to its end. A pile of wood, soil and stone blocked the way.

Marcus handed her the candelabra. She held it steady whilst he began to move the wood, soil and stones to one side. To begin with he revealed nothing but more detritus. Then he gave a satisfied exclamation.

‘What is it?’ asked Hilary.

‘I think there might be a way through after all. I’m not sure, but I think there’s a door.’

He threw more stones aside, and before long a door had been revealed.

Hilary’s hopes soared. They would soon be free!

Marcus tried the handle and pushed. It moved a little ... then stopped.

‘There must be something behind it,’ he said.

Hilary’s spirits fell. To be so close to escape, and yet so far ....

But Marcus had not given up. He set his shoulder to the door and heaved. The door began to give.

‘The blockage is moving,’ he said. ‘Another few heaves and it should give way.’

He set his shoulder to the door again, and before very many minutes had passed he had managed to open it enough to step through.

Hilary felt a faint stirring of air.

‘We were right!’ She smiled. ‘It leads outside.’

She put her hand protectively around the candle flames, which were flickering with the sudden draught.

‘I’ll go first,’ said Marcus.

Reclaiming his candelabra he stepped through the door and went down the newly-revealed passageway. Hilary followed at his heels.

Only to find it ended in a wall of earth.

Marcus cursed.

He stood and thought. ‘It doesn’t make sense. There must be a way out. There’d be no point in having a passage here otherwise. And the fresh air must be coming from somewhere.’

He pressed the walls, but they were solid. Then he looked up.

‘Aha.’

Set in to the roof of the passage was a circle of wood.

He reached up and pushed it. It gave slightly. He pushed again, and then heaved it up and aside. Daylight flooded in.

Hilary felt a surge in her spirits. After so long trapped in the dark, it was wonderful to be free. She breathed in deeply, rejoicing in the fresh air and the feel of the wind on her cheek.

She turned to Marcus, and his smile answered her own.

He took her hand, his long fingers stroking her palm. The feel was companionable and comforting.

After allowing their eyes to adjust to the light, Marcus blew out the candles. Setting his candelabra aside he made a step with his hands.

‘Come,’ he said to Hilary. ‘I will help you up.’

She needed no second bidding. She was eager to be free of the dark, dank tunnel, and setting down her own candlestick she placed her foot in his clasped hands so that he could raise her up. Once her head and shoulders had emerged, she looked about her. The scene was a familiar one. All around her were ivy-clad stones.

‘We’re in the folly,’ she said.

The ruined temple had never seemed more welcoming.

She put her palms down flat on the earth and, with Marcus pushing from below, she  pulled herself out.

She straightened up and brushed the dirt from her pelisse, then resettled her bonnet, which had been knocked askew, and looked around her once again. She had actually emerged in the middle of the folly. Beyond it she could see the tangled shrubbery, and in the distance the abbey.

She stepped aside from the hole, giving Marcus room to follow her.

He caught at the sides  and pulled himself up, his great height allowing him to climb out without help.

As they stood once more in the daylight, above the ground, Hilary felt a rush of elation. They had escaped!

Marcus joined her in her exclamations of relief.

‘We’ll return to the abbey at once,’ he said. ‘We’ll go by way of the cottage. If Esmerelda has tired of playing, she might well have gone back there of her own accord.’

‘And if not?’ asked Hilary.

‘Then we must look for her. It is not safe to leave her on her own.’

Hilary nodded. Overjoyed though she was to be betrothed to Marcus, and to have escaped their terrifying predicament, she knew they would not be able to rest until Esmerelda had been found.

Marcus took her hand, and together they went through the grounds. They moved cautiously in case they came across Esmerelda on the way, but there was no sign of her. They came to the track leading to the cottage and looked down its length. The door of the cottage was closed.

‘That’s odd,’ said Marcus. He dropped Hilary’s hand. ‘Wait here,’ he said.

He approached the door warily.

Hilary was glad of his caution, for there was a noise coming from inside.

‘Esmerelda?’ called Marcus softly.

To Hilary’s surprise, it was not Esmerelda’s voice that answered him. It was Lund’s.

‘Your lordship?’ came Lund’s cracked tones.

‘Lund?’ asked Marcus in astonishment.

‘Heaven be praised!’ said Lund. ‘It’s Lady Esmerelda. She’s locked me in.’

Marcus drew back the bolt on the outside of the door and Lund emerged from the cottage, looking distressed.

‘How did this happen?’ asked Marcus.

‘I don’t rightly know,’ said Lund, shaking his head. ‘I came out to the cottage to take care of Lady Esmerelda whilst Mrs Lund brought the last of her things from the room behind the tapestry, but when I got here I found the door already open. I put my head round it, cautious like, and someone pushed me inside, then bolted the door behind me.’

‘Esmerelda must have found another way out.’

‘I don’t see how she can have done. I checked the cottage myself.’

‘Well, no matter. We have other, more important things to think about,’ said Marcus. ‘Such as finding Esmerelda. You begin searching the grounds, Lund. We have come from the folly, and she is not there, but she might have gone down to the river. The bridge has always been a favourite haunt of hers. Caesar is also missing. He might be with Esmerelda, so listen for his bark. Miss Wentworth and I will search the abbey. If we can find Mrs Lund, she can help us in our search, too.’

Lund departed, heading for the river.

Marcus took Hilary’s hand once more and they continued on their way to the abbey. In the fading light it seemed menacing. Its gaunt architecture promised no respite from their troubles.

Hilary shivered.

She had no idea what they were going to find when they went inside.

Hilary and Marcus stood for a minute outside the door. But they knew they could not delay.

‘Courage,’ said Marcus.

Hilary nodded.

They passed through the heavy oak door and into the hall.

‘I am going to search downstairs first,’ said Marcus. ‘If Esmerelda shut the secret door she might well be in the drawing-room waiting for us to emerge, so that is where I am going to begin.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ said Hilary.

‘No. I want you to remain here. She might not be in the drawing-room. She might be in the kitchens, or up in the attics, and I don’t want her to be able to slip out of the abbey without our being aware of it. If you remain in the hall, then she cannot leave without you seeing her. If you do, call me, but don’t try to stop her yourself, not even if she is making for the door. She is stronger than she looks, and she will not hesitate to harm you if you get in her way.’

Hilary did not protest. She had seen too much of Esmerelda’s madness to disagree.

‘I won’t be long,’ he said.

He disappeared in the direction of the drawing-room.

It was cold in the hall. The fire had burned down low. Hilary would have liked to hold her hands out to the glowing embers, but she did not want to turn her back on the hall. The cavernous space seemed threatening. In the fading light it was full of shadows. Any one of them could hide Esmerelda.

She set her back to the fireplace and stood looking outwards, so that she could not be taken by surprise.

Several times her eyes played tricks on her, telling her that there was someone in the dark recess under the galleried landing, hiding behind one of the suits of armour. But there was no one there.

She heard noises, too. A creaking sound, which turned out to be the drawing-room door as Marcus opened it, and a tapping, which was nothing more than the sound of his footsteps, greatly magnified, crossing the stone hall.

He returned after a few minutes to tell her that he could not find Esmerelda in any of the main rooms, and that he was going down to search the kitchens.

‘She has fond memories of them dating from her childhood,’ said Marcus. ‘She might well have gone there.’

His footsteps faded away again.

Hilary pulled her pelisse more closely around herself and tried to calm her nerves.

A few minutes later she heard a sound from above.

She looked up, fearing to see Esmerelda on the landing ... but instead, she saw Mr Ulverstone.

She was astonished. What was Mr Ulverstone doing there?

Whatever it was, she must warn him of his danger. If Esmerelda was upstairs ....

She moved towards the staircase and began to ascend.

At that moment he looked down and saw her, and a look of pure anger spread across his face.

‘How did you escape?’ he demanded, his brow thunderous.

His words were so unexpected that she did not immediately take them in. She had been expecting him to say, ‘What are you doing at the abbey?’ or, ‘Miss Wentworth, I did not expect you find you here.’ But instead he had said, How did you
escape
.

But how did he know that she had been trapped? Unless ... unless
he had been the one to trap her
.

But why would he do such a thing?

She had no time to think about it, for he started to walk along the landing, towards the stairs.

‘You seem to make a habit of escaping from perilous situations,’ he said.

At his words, Hilary’s thoughts flew back to another perilous situation, when she had been trapped on the roof, and the light of understanding dawned.

 ‘It was you who locked me out,’ she gasped.

‘Of course. Why else do you think I would ignore your shouts and waves when you tried to attract my attention as I crossed the stable yard? If it hadn’t been me, I would have sprung to your assistance.’

So he had seen her after all.

‘But why?’ she asked, beginning to retreat backwards down the stairs without taking her eyes from him.

She had suspected the Palmers of being involved because they had had a motive for removing her, but she could not think why Mr Ulverstone should want to do her harm.

‘Why? To prevent you getting too close to Marcus, of course. I’d seen him kissing you in the library, and I knew that he was falling in love with you, but a marriage between the two of you did not suit my plans.’

‘Plans?’ Hilary felt herself go cold and for a moment she stopped edging backwards. ‘What plans?’

‘To inherit. And to that end, Marcus had to die childless - not with a wife, and a child on the way. I’d already tried to prevent such a situation arising by asking you to marry me - even before I saw the two of you embracing in the library, I could tell that Marcus was attracted to you - but that hadn’t worked, so I had to used more drastic means. I was just wondering what to do when I saw you heading towards the attic and decided to follow you. When you climbed out on the roof it was too good an opportunity to miss. If I locked you out, I could be rid of you without anyone suspecting foul play. As the door is old and it sticks, your entrapment on the roof and subsequent death would have been regarded as an accident, for I would have unlocked the door the following morning to remove all suspicion of anything else. It’s just a pity Marcus found you. Otherwise I could have been rid of you permanently.’

‘Are you really so envious of his title that you would go to such lengths to make sure you remain his heir?’ asked Hilary, edging backwards once again down another stair.

‘His title?’ Mr Ulverstone laughed. ‘I don’t want his title. I never wanted his title. I want his money.’

And then a couple of memories flashed suddenly before Hilary’s mind’s eye, memories she had never before connected but which now seemed to have a terrible logic. Mr Ulverstone’s casual remark that fortunes could be won or lost on the turn of a card, and the names of
Howard and Gibbs
that had been scrawled on the back of the card he had given her. Howard and Gibbs. She remembered who they were now.

‘You were in the clutches of the moneylenders,’ she said out loud. ‘You’ve lost your fortune. You lost it on a game of cards.’

‘My, my, you are sharp. Yes. I lost everything at White’s. Two hundred thousand pounds on the turn of a card. I thought my hand was unbeatable, but I was wrong.’

‘So you had to raise money in order to pay your gambling debt, and now you can’t pay back the loan,’ said Hilary, seeing how it must have been.

‘You’re sharp,’ he said appraisingly, ‘but not sharp enough. You’re right when you say I had to raise a loan to pay the debt, but wrong to say I can’t pay it back. I can. Just as soon as I’ve disposed of Marcus.’

And Hilary saw it all. Mr Ulverstone was Marcus’s heir. And ... ‘You mean to kill him,’ she gasped.

‘I do.’ He stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at her. ‘Once he’s out of the way the money will be mine.’

‘But I still don’t understand how you came here,’ she said, perplexed. ‘You were going to London. I saw you leave the abbey.’

He sneered. ‘I took the Palmers home, but as for going to London, that was nothing but a tale. I spent the night at a nearby inn and returned to the abbey on horseback the following day, only to see Marcus’s coach leaving. I bribed one of the stable hands to tell me when he returned, then went back to the inn. As luck would have it, I saw him return myself, when his coach rolled past the inn. By riding across country I was able to reach the abbey before him.’