Gatehaven Page 11

  “Danger?”

  “Aye. Someone might want to harm her. Miss Aimee must be warned. If you refuse to tell me all you know, how can I possibly help her?”

  “I know nothing.” Millie glanced off toward the mansion. “If I did know something, I could lose me job, if I spoke me thoughts where others could hear.”

  “Whatever you tell me will be in strict confidence. I will not tell the cook or anyone else anything you tell me.” He smiled, hoping to gain her confidence. “Please tell me what you know. The longer you wait, the more danger Miss Aimee could be in.”

  Millie bit her bottom lip. “All right, I’ll tell ya what little I know. But it’s not much, mind ya.”

  “Anything you can tell will surely help.”

  He expected to hear her report. But she didn’t say anything. “Well,” he said and cleared his throat. “I’m waiting.”

  “Miss Aimee wanted to go up on the second floor. She said her room must be near her chaperone. She wanted me to show her the way to the servants’ stairway. Well, sure and I showed her, all right. Then I went back to the kitchen. I went to see Miss Aimee later to see how she faired. Her room was empty. All her boxes were gone. I do not know where her things be taken or who took them. And I know no more than that, sir.”

  “I believe you. Now will you show me how to find those stairs?”

  She nodded. “Follow me. I know another way to get to the back stairs, and we need not go through the kitchen to get there. Cook might ask questions if we go by way of the kitchen.”

  Ian followed Millie to another back entrance he hadn’t noticed previously. “I also want to thank you for your help.” Ian waited while Millie opened the door. “And your secret is safe with me, Miss Millie. But I do want to ask you one more question.” Ian followed her inside.

  “What question, sir?”

  “Is the door we just entered ever locked?”

  “Aye,” she said. “At night.”

  “And the key. Where is it kept?”

  She shook her head. “I dare not tell ya. I would be fired for sure if I did.”

  “Please, Millie.” He followed her inside and down a long hall. “It is very important that I go up those stairs tonight. Miss Aimee’s life might depend on it.”

  “The key can always be found under the straw mat in front of the door. If ya use it to go inside, you must promise to put the key back where ya found it.”

  They turned a corner, and Ian saw the stairway just ahead.

  “As I told Miss Aimee,” Millie said, “I never went up the stairs but once. But I heard that the stairs go up and up. Sure and I went in the main parlor for the first time the day Miss Aimee came. Maude said she had important doings that day. I took her place. But I’m not allowed to go in that part of the house anymore. Only Maude goes up those stairs to the second floor now.”

  “Why would she go upstairs?”

  “Maude carries food trays to the rooms on the second floor or gives them to the butler to deliver to the bedrooms up and up.”

  “Up and up? What does that mean?”

  “Maude told us of guest bedrooms on the top floor.”

  Ian followed Millie back down the long hall to the door they entered earlier, thinking about the risk he might be taking if he climbed the stairs to the second floor at night. If discovered, he would surely lose his position as the vicar’s assistant, and Millie could lose her job as well. He could be forced to return to Scotland.

  What help would he be to Shannon if he left Gatehaven forever?

  Nevertheless, he would return to the stairway later that evening—when it was dark.

  Peter Aimee guided his horse to a slow walk near a country estate owned by another earl—a nobleman who happened to be an old friend of his parents. He’d heard about the Earl of Willowbrook all his life, but he’d never actually met him.

  The journey had left his backside a bit numb. Other than that, he felt extremely fit, and he looked forward to meeting the earl for the first time.

  His parents had said that after the earl became a Christian, he befriended them when they needed help the most, and that the two families had remained friends through the years, exchanging letters back and forth. However, the earl wasn’t expecting a visit from Peter. To push his way to the front door of the mansion as if he belonged there seemed presumptuous for someone of Peter’s station in life—regardless of the friendly connection.

  From his location on a rise at the edge of the woods, he saw two men in green uniforms standing some distance away. He assumed they were footmen. He also saw someone tending the garden in front of the mansion. Perhaps the gardener would be willing to announce him to the earl’s caretaker.

  Maybe the Earl of Willowbrook would invite him inside—if so, well and good. If not, he would simply turn around and ride to the village of Fairs near the estate where his sister was staying. He hoped to find employment in Fairs so he could keep a watchful eye on Shannon and his friend, Ian Colquhoun.

  Peter hesitated a moment longer. Then he reined his horse toward the man working in the garden. With any luck, he could be talking to the earl within the hour. He wanted to hear all there was to learn about the Earl of Northon, and he hoped the Earl of Willowbrook could provide him with the information he needed. He also wanted to discuss what he’d heard about the Chapel at Rosslyn with someone he could trust. His parents had assured him that the Earl of Willowbrook was such a man.

  Less than an hour later, Peter sat in a huge parlor facing an elderly gentleman that he now knew to be the Earl of Willowbrook.

  “It is such a pleasure to meet the son of my dear friends.” The earl sent Peter a smile that would surely melt the snow off the top of the highest mountain in Switzerland. “At the moment, my son, Lord Wilburn, and daughter-in-law, Lady Juliet, are away on a short holiday with their two children. However, it is my hope that you can meet them before you return to Scotland.”

  “I would be honored to meet your family, my lord.”

  “I trust your parents and sister are well.”

  “Oh yes—very well indeed. In fact, I have a little brother now.”

  “Splendid.”

  “Andre was born a few months ago, and I think he looks just like Papa.”

  “I knew your father when he was about your age, Mr. Aimee, and you are so like him.” He picked up a cup from the silver tray on the table before them and took a sip of tea. “And your sister is with your parents in Scotland, I presume.”

  “No, my lord. In fact, she is one of the reasons I came today.”

  The earl leaned forward in his chair. “Is something bothering you, young man?”

  Peter felt it was wrong to tell stories about others unless he knew them to be true. At the same time, his sister could be in danger. If the earl knew something about the Earl of Northon that he was willing to share, Shannon might avoid a disaster.

  Peter cleared his throat, and then he told the earl all that had happened since the Earl of Northon first arrived in Luss, Scotland.

  “On my way to England, I heard some tales while visiting the Scottish village of Rosslyn,” Peter went on. “I would not mention it now except that the Earl of Northon insisted on visiting a rather peculiar chapel near Rosslyn. Perhaps you have heard of it. As I said, I heard many stories about the goings on there before I left Scotland. Can you tell me anything about the chapel or the strange tales connected with it?”

  The earl shook his head. “Until this moment, I had never heard of the chapel or the town of Rosslyn. However, Lord Wilburn visits London far more often than I do these days. He might know something. If he does, you can be sure that I will get back to you with that information as soon as I have it. And I am not in the least surprised that the Earl of Northon found the strange chapel intriguing. He has a reputation for disturbing and—and shall we say, unwise adventures. I should not be surprised at anything the young earl might say or do.”

  “You must know a great deal about the Earl of Northon, living here in
England as you do,” Peter said. “But I know nothing about the earl—nor do I trust him. Am I imagining problems that do not exist? Or should I worry about the situation my sister finds herself in?”

  “Your worries are not groundless,” the earl said. “To say the least, they are quite perceptive.”

  “Please, my lord, explain what you mean.”

  “Like you, I hate to be the teller of tales. But in this incidence, I think it is important.” The earl set his empty cup back on the tray. “My son, Lord Wilburn, is some years older than the Earl of Northon. Still, he knows him well. And my son has always said that Eddie has a taste for beautiful women—especially those from a lower station in life than his own.”

  “Eddie?”

  “The Earl of Northon was known as Eddie when he was a child. My son and I often refer to him by that name—even today.”

  I knew it. Wait until I tell Ian.

  “Some say that the young women brought to the earl’s estate are never seen again. But I have no proof of that. These stories could all be lies. But I am afraid that they could also be true.”

  Peter stood. “Thank you for your hospitality, my lord. But I must return to my sister at once.”

  “Of course, you must. But first, let us pray together. Your mother and father are great believers in the power of prayer—as am I. Is that also the case with you, Mr. Aimee?”

  “Yes, my lord, it is. And I would be honored to pray with you.”

  As soon as the prayer ended, Peter said good-bye to the earl and sent for his horse. If he rode hard, he could be at Gatehaven on the morrow.

  At dusk, Peter reined his horse into a dark forest. A few minutes later, he heard what sounded like hoofbeats. Startled, he glanced off to his left.

  He didn’t see anything and looked back. A low branch of a tree was right in front of him. He threw his hands in front of his face . . .

  Bam.

  Everything went black.

  Peter opened his eyes. Pain engulfed him. He tried to move—groan.

  “Oh look, Uncle,” a woman said. “The man be awake.”

  Peter felt sure that the soft, melodious voice he’d heard belonged to his beloved, Kate Colquhoun. His head ached and his shoulder burned like hot metal. Still, he lifted his head in hopes of seeing her face. Daylight faded, and his body spun around and around. Everything went black again.

  On her second morning after arriving at Gatehaven, Shannon found a sweet love note from the earl tucked under her door. Until she got the letter, Shannon hadn’t known that the earl knew she’d moved from the maid’s quarters to a new room on the second floor. Apparently, he knew. Miss Foster must have told him.

  The note convinced Shannon that the earl still loved her. However, she hadn’t actually seen him since the day she arrived at his estate.

  “Be diligent and understanding, my love,” the earl had explained in the letter. “I must prepare my mother and grandmother for our eventual marriage. Such a task takes time.”

  Time? How long would it take for him to sit down with two women and tell them his marriage plans—five minutes—perhaps less? How much preparation would such a meeting require?

  Shannon missed Ian and wanted to see him. But would he ever find her now that she’d moved to the second floor? Her chaperone had arranged to have all her meals served in her room, and she was encouraged to stay in her room as much as possible.

  “It wouldn’t be wise for you to stroll through the mansion alone,” Miss Foster had said, “especially at night. Young girls have been known to get lost in big houses such as this.”

  If Shannon hadn’t seen the robed nightwalkers with her own eyes as they marched down the dark hall outside her door, she might have ignored Miss Foster’s warnings. Under the circumstances, she listened and intended to obey the warnings as much as possible.

  Miss Foster wanted to read Shannon’s palm, and Shannon promised to allow it. She didn’t believe in crystal balls and palm reading, but if it pleased her chaperone to hold the palm of her hand and look at it, she could stand it for one night.

  Shannon went into Miss Foster’s room for the palm reading. She was not prepared for what she saw. The room was crammed with lighted candles. The fumes together with the intense heat made it difficult for Shannon to breathe. The sickeningly sweet odor reminded her of a million perfumes all mixed together.

  Miss Foster sat at a table peering at what looked like a crystal ball. A black shawl was draped over her head and shoulders.

  Was Miss Foster a gypsy—or slightly demented? Papa would say she was a witch. How had Miss Foster managed to so deceive her parents?

  “Sit down, my dear, and show me your palm. The right one will do nicely.”

  Shannon wanted to retreat to her room and lock the door. But to be honest, Miss Foster was far kinder to her than anyone else at Gatehaven— except for Millie, of course. What could it hurt to humor the woman—do as she asked?

  She opened the palm of her right hand and showed it to her chaperone. Miss Foster guided Shannon’s hand to the lighted candle nearest the crystal ball. Then she studied her palm as if she expected to find something hidden there.

  She would allow Miss Foster to read her palm, and then she would leave. But Miss Foster just kept peering at the palm of her hand as if she had entered another world—perhaps a very dark world at that.

  Shannon wanted this nonsense to end. Instead, she said, “Is there love in my future?”

  “Love, yes. But I also see danger.”

  “What kind of danger?”

  “You must watch your back or you will be sorry.”

  Enough. Shannon jerked back her hand. “I am sorry, Miss Foster, but I am feeling ill.” She rose from her chair. “I must return to my room at once.”

  “But I have yet to tell your future. And there is more to tell.”

  “Perhaps another time. I must go now.”

  Shannon ran through the dressing room and on to her own room and shut the door. She had left a candle burning by her bed. In the near darkness, she could see that the cloth had fallen or been removed from her headboard. The dragons appeared to be looking at her as if their wooden eyes were somehow alive.

  She had to get out of that room. It wasn’t merely that the room was dark and stuffy. She needed to breathe fresh air. Maybe she also needed to pray. Wasn’t that what her parents would do if they were in a situation like this?

  Despite the dangers she might find in the darkened hall, she opened the door and stepped out. Miss Foster had said that nobody was staying in the room across from hers and that it opened onto a balcony. If she crossed the hall to the vacant room and went out on the balcony, the fresh air might revive her spirits. She decided it was worth trying.

  Shannon entered the darkened room. Moonlight streamed in from a door that must have been left open. She assumed that the door led to the balcony and headed straight for it.

  The moon wasn’t as full as it had been on the previous night. Yet it gave off enough light to turn the ground below into a garden edged in gold. She still felt weak and lightheaded and reached out for the banister for support. Then she gripped it with both hands.

  She heard a sound. Shannon tensed. Was someone coming? She glanced back. But it was too dark to see anything.

  Someone grabbed her from behind, putting a hand over her mouth. She wanted to scream but couldn’t utter a sound.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SHANNON STRUGGLED to break free.

  “Calm yourself, lass. It is only me. Ian.”

  She stiffened. The hand over her mouth disappeared. “How dare you, Ian Colquhoun—creeping up on me in the dark.”

  “I had to make sure you did not scream.”

  She slowly turned and faced him. “I would bite your fingers this minute if your hand was still over my mouth.”

  He chuckled softly. “Glad it is not.”

  “My mother told me that once my father played a similar trick on her shortly before they married.”

&n
bsp; “Who can say but that one day we will wed as well.”

  “That shall never happen,” she insisted. “And you know it.”

  “Nevertheless, I would hate for my future wife to bite my fingers. The thought is most unpleasant—whoever she might be.”

  Shannon suddenly realized that having Ian nearby had removed all the fear and worry she’d felt earlier. “Now, Ian Colquhoun, what are you doing on the second floor in the middle of the night?”

  “Looking for you, of course.”

  “It would be dangerous for you, if you were found here.”

  “It cannot be helped.”

  Ian took Shannon’s hand and led her to a bench facing the night sky. “You might be in danger.”

  Shannon tensed. Miss Foster had said she was in danger, and she’d been thinking the same thing but didn’t want to admit it.

  “What danger?” she asked.

  “I have been pondering something I learned while we were in Rosslyn. Sit down and we will discuss it.”

  They sat side-by-side on a bench on the balcony. Their only light was the moon that seemed to reach out to them with its light. He pushed back a lock of her hair that had fallen across her forehead. Shannon felt warm all over.

  “I do not wish that you would worry,” Ian went on. “But the tales we heard in Rosslyn about witches and goblins and Black Masses might be truer than we thought.”

  “What a horrible conclusion.”

  Ian nodded. “And if the Earl of Northon has a hand in any of those evil things, you could be in danger.”

  Shannon stiffened. She would not allow Ian or anyone to speak against the man she loved—a man who had tucked a sweet love note under her door.

  She tossed back her hair. “Unless you have proof that the earl is a part of this nonsense, I will not stay here a moment longer and listen while you discredit him.”

  “I have no proof—only strong notions. I am merely giving an old friend a warning. And if you are as wise as I think you are, you will make yourself aware of the possible danger you might be in.”

  Shannon glared at him. “Either we discuss another topic this instant or I will get up from this bench and go back to my room.”