Drake's Lair (10 page)

Melly took a sudden chill not bred of the cold dampness, and put the poker back in its stand. She turned back for another look around her. There was the deuced contract, on the gateleg table beside the window. Now was as good a time as any to look it over. The sooner the bargain was finalized and she had the hundred pounds, the sooner she could leave Drake’s Lair and its secrets behind her. Besides, she was fading. She would need something to keep her awake until Zoe returned. She wasn’t about to undress in that house and climb into that bed again until all of her apartment doors were safely latched and bolted shut.

*

Drake found Zoe in the kitchen having a cup of Mrs. Laity’s tea at the long worktable. One look at the housemaid-cum-abigail’s face sent his hopes plummeting. She looked the picture of guilt, from her flaming cheeks and wide-flung gray eyes, to the trembling knees moving her black twill skirts at sight of him. The housekeeper, sitting cattycorner, struggled to her feet, and hauled the frightened girl up alongside.

“Zoe, I want a word with you,” Drake announced, his voice distorted with rage in check. Then in an aside to Mrs. Laity, he said, “Is the servants’ hall vacant?”

“Y-yes, m’lord. What’s she done now?”

“Thank you,” said Drake, nodding to the abigail to follow without a reply.

The servants’ hall was spacious, and quite grand by most estate standards. The candles had not yet been extinguished in the chandelier above the oval cherry wood table in the center of the room, and he motioned her to take a seat.

“Zoe, why are you down here in the servants’ wing and not attending your mistress?” he queried, standing over her arms akimbo. “It is late. Were my orders unclear?”

“No, m’lord,” she said, “I just brought down the last of the things what was in the way when the bed come up, a-and I was just having a cup o’ tea with Mrs. Laity, before I go back is all.”

“You brought down those things well over an hour ago, Zoe. I saw you myself.”

“Y-you…
saw
me, m’lord?”

“I did, on the staircase talking to Mr. Ellery. He gave you something. What was that?”

“‘Twas nothing, m’lord, he didn’t give me nothing!” she whimpered.

“I
saw
, Zoe,” he said, stooping over her. “There’s no use to pretend otherwise. You will either tell me what he gave you—what transpired between you—or you will leave my employ and this house at once—storm or no storm. Now, speak up!”

“He… he give me…”

“Yes?” he prompted impatiently. A whine replied, and he thundered, “Who pays your salary, eh? I know that Mr. Ellery has been in charge here in my absence, but I am come home now. This is my house, and, bigod, you will tell me what that little scene was all about on the stairs before, or lose your situation. Make your choice, but keep in mind that if I turn you out, you’ll not be likely to get another post, because you’ll have no recommendation from me. That will likely mean the workhouse if you’re lucky, transportation to America, or Botany Bay if you’re not. Well?”

“H-he give me half-a-crown, m’lord.”

“For what?”

“T-to tell him which was the mistress’s rooms… and keep away awhile.”

“I see,” said Drake. His posture deflated. Her words wounded him like knife blades. “Has Mr. Ellery ever given you money before?”

“No, m’lord—I swear it!”

“What are you going to do if he does so again?”

“T-t-tell you, m’lord?”

“That’s right, tell me,” he echoed. “You are never to leave your mistress alone again, either, at anyone’s bidding. Am I making myself plain?”

“Yes, m’lord,” she replied shamefaced. Tears glistened on her cheeks, and her mouth drooped, ready to break into a wail, by the look of it. But he was steeled against any such feminine ploys as that.

“You are never to take money from anyone in this house ever again, with the exception of your salary… from me,” he went on relentlessly. “And you are not to tell Mr. Ellery that we have had this conversation.”

“Yes… I mean
no
, m’lord.”

“I should dismiss you forthwith, you know that?”

“Y-yes, m’lord.”

“I am tempted…”

“Oh, please, m’lord!”

“All right, then, go to your mistress.”

“Yes, m’lord, but…”

“But what?” he snapped, exasperated. “Come, come, gel, these are not difficult requests, they are explicit orders. You haven’t an option. There are no ‘buts’.”

“But suppose, I mean, he did pay me…”

“Oh, I see,” he returned, giving a dramatic bow. “Well, then, it’s settled! He is your employer now, and in that case, you shall have to take his half-crown instead of the wages I pay you, and be off. Go on, then.”

“Noooo, m’lord,” she wailed. “I just meant—”

“I know what you meant,” he shouted, “and I shall overlook it if you go at once to your mistress! Zoe, I promised your mother I’d give you a good home here—‘twas a deathbed promise. Don’t make me break it.”

“Y-yes, m’lord, I mean no, m’lord… but… what about the half-a-crown?”

“What do you think?” he pronounced.

“Y-yes, m’lord, I’m sorry, m’lord,” she whimpered. Producing the coin, she put it into his outstretched palm reluctantly. He clamped his fingers shut on it like a poacher’s trap.

“Now then, this conversation is between us alone,” he said, jamming the coin into his waistcoat pocket. “You will not repeat it to Mr. Ellery, or Mrs. Laity, or anyone below stairs or above—least of all, your mistress. You are on probation here now. If you want to keep your situation, it will serve you well to remember that. You are dismissed.”

She jumped to her feet then, bobbing like a jackrabbit, and skittered past him out of the room.

He pressed his fingers to the corners of his smarting eyes and took a ragged breath. That ache in his loins had returned, fired by images that would not leave him. How that could be when he was in such a taking, was beyond him. Rage starred his vision, and spinning on his heels, he stormed out of the servants’ hall.

Eight

When Melly went down to breakfast with the signed contract, the earl was conspicuously absent. It was several minutes before James Ellery joined her. She had already selected a portion of eggs poached in cream and grilled sausages from the sideboard, and Smithers had poured her coffee, when the steward stomped into the room, his face dark with anger. His mustache was protruding, and his clamped-down lips were on the verge of trembling.

“Why, Mr. Ellery,” she breathed, “whatever is the matter?”

The steward pulled up short of the sideboard and gave a start. He was evidently so overset that he’d passed her by unnoticed. His posture shifted. He adjusted his white brocade waistcoat, straightened the lapels on his blue morning coat of superfine and forced a smile.

“I didn’t see you there, Miss… Lady Ahern,” he said. “It’s nothing. I’m all in a muddle this morning. My new manservant hasn’t arrived, and Drake has taken Griggs with him.”

“Taken him where?” she asked, fingering the contract on the table beside her. She had wanted to give it to the earl without delay.

“He’s gone off for a tour of the crofts,” he said, anger creeping back into his tone. “Deuced impetuous I daresay, haring off like that without a word to me. I had to hear it from Prowse, of all things.”

“Indeed,” she responded. “The storm is still blowing. Whatever possessed him do you think, is there an urgency somewhere?”
Whatever, indeed! He was a phantom, wasn’t he—appearing and disappearing like a wraith?
She was beginning to believe that he was one in earnest.

“Not to my knowledge,” he said, loading his plate with eggs. His mind seemed elsewhere, and he stopped just short of spooning eggs onto the carpet. “Ah!” he muttered, scraping some back into the silver tureen. “He hasn’t been himself since he returned I’m afraid. I do believe Spain has taken its toll. I expect he’s battle fatigued.”

“Well, not having known him before, I can hardly judge,” she said, toying with her eggs. “But I must say he impresses me as being a bit… eccentric.”

“You’ve noticed that, too, have you?”

“Ummhumm,” she said, around a mouthful of eggs. “How long will he be away?”

Ellery shrugged. “Several days—a sennight perhaps. He did take Griggs after all, and he never does that on an overnighter. I think he did it apurpose—just to irk me. He doesn’t want to share him, ergo my new valet, who is already behindhand. I actually had to dress myself this morning.”

“Well, you look quite properly put together,” she said demurely, though her coy delivery left a bad taste after it. If it weren’t for her agenda, she would have avoided James Ellery like the dysentery. She salved herself with the balm of necessity, however, and said in her most charming voice, “I am disappointed that he has chosen this moment to absent himself—“she fingered the contract he had been eyeing beside her plate “—I wanted to have this behind me, and now it seems I am put off.”

“Why don’t you let me keep that for you until Drake returns,” he offered, reaching for the parchment. “I’ll lock it away in the study. It will be quite safe.”

“Thank you, but no, Mr. Ellery,” she said, pulling it back as his fingers crawled over the edge of it. “I’ll hold onto it if you please. I signed it rather hastily after all. I’ll use the time to peruse it again… just to be sure.”

“As you wish,” he said succinctly, drawing his fingers back reluctantly.

What to do?
Should she press him about the herbs, or about the earl in general? Where to begin? He wasn’t pressed for time evidently, but curiosity overcame common sense.

“You’ve known the earl for a long time, haven’t you?” she inquired.

“Since we were schoolmates at Eton,” he replied with a nod.

“That long?”

“You might say we grew up together,” the steward explained.

“Then, I wish you would answer the question I posed to you both at dinner last evening,” she said boldly, her fork suspended. “Why is his lordship so adamant about the herbs?”

“As you yourself have observed, he is eccentric. I wouldn’t let it worry you.”

“But it does. For nearly a year now, no one here has objected to my gathering on Drake’s Lair land. Why, you yourself encouraged me to do so. The herbs are worth nothing to him. He means to destroy them. There has to be a reason behind his eccentricity. I simply wish to know why he is so opposed while the rest in residence are not.”

“Who can presume to get inside Drake’s head; certainly not I. It’s true I’ve known him a good many years, but there are places in that dark mind of his that even I won’t probe. You’ll have to speak with him directly about that, I’m afraid, my dear.”

“You sketch him out as something rather sinister and black-hearted, Mr. Ellery.”

“No, no, dear lady, hardly that. Drake is merely a solitary soul. What secrets he holds are his alone. Unless he chooses, no one shall be privy to them—not even God, I’ve often opined.”

Secrets again. And someone who wasn’t what he seemed. But what did he seem?
She had stumbled upon an enigma in the Earl of Shelldrake, and though warning bells were ringing a peal over her head, she wasn’t going to heed them.

“But, if the herbs were such an issue with his lordship, why, then, did no one warn me when I began gathering here? I should think
you
would have—”

“He wasn’t in residence then, was he?” Ellery said. “I was acting in his stead, and I found no fault in your gathering here.”

“Was that prudent, since you obviously knew his mind in the matter?”

“My dear, you needed the botanicals, and they were just going to waste out there.”

“Still, I should have been warned. Did you not think he would be returning?”

“You’re making much too much of this, my dear.”

“He means to destroy them—pull them up—burn them out as soon as the flaw is done. It is he, Mr. Ellery, who is making too much of this.”

“Then, little goose, you had better gather what you may before the gander returns, as it were. I certainly shan’t prevent you. That way if your little bargain doesn’t go through, at least you’ll have a start toward making your way. Not that I expect that it won’t, you understand… go through that is. I’m sure it will, knowing Drake, but are you really ready to put gathering behind you? You are a talented herbalist, my lady, of undisputable renown. Are you really ready to give all that up? What would the good doctor say—or the vicar, for that matter—not to mention the crofters, and the Tinkers? They all depend upon your talents.”

“If I had access to other gleanings, Mr. Ellery, of course I would pursue my occupation, because I truly love it, but under the circumstances—”

“Leave Drake to me,” the steward interrupted. “Gather while he’s gone, and I’ll persuade Jory Bell to hold off on the botanicals until he returns. Trust me, my dear, you can you know. I have only your best interests at heart.”

She didn’t answer. She finished her eggs and sipped her coffee thoughtfully. There was another matter on her mind, and now was the perfect time to broach the subject.

“I want to see the cottage,” she said guardedly.

“Whatever for?” he blurted over the rim of his coffee cup.

“That night… when his lordship rescued me, he said the fire was set deliberately. He said he saw someone running off as he rode up, and I thought I heard something just before it started myself.”

“What do you hope to find? There shan’t be footprints after this flaw.”

“I don’t know. I just want to see for myself… in the light of day. It is still my house, Mr. Ellery, what’s left of it… at least for a little while yet.”

“Yes, of course, but are you sure you want to do that? I’ve seen it. There is nothing left. It will only cause you unnecessary upsetment.”

“I’m sure,” she replied.

“Very well, I’ll drive you ‘round once the storm is over.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ellery,” she said. “I shall look forward to that… when the storm is over.”

*

The following day, the rain ceased, though blustery winds lingered, riffling the grass on the patchwork hills, and bending the backs of saplings along the lane until their branches touched the ground. Dark clouds raced by overhead, casting waves of shadow over the land, and the air smelled salty-fresh and clean.