Gatehaven Page 12

  “Very well.” Ian paused before continuing. “Perhaps we should each tell the other all the events that have transpired since last we met. Does that topic suit you, lass?”

  “It does. In fact, I would enjoy discussing recent events very much.”

  As Ian told about meeting the Frenchman and staying in his home until the vicar returned, Shannon thought about all that had happened since she arrived at Gatehaven. She knew she would love the earl until her dying day and didn’t want to hear Ian or anyone say a word against him. Yet in her heart, she wondered. Did he truly love her as much as his love note suggested that he did?

  At last Ian said, “The earl and Ladies Catherine and Victoria will be leaving for London in the morning at daybreak. They are not expected to return for days.”

  “How could you possible know something like that? If it were true, the earl would have told me.”

  “It is true. Believe me. Monsieur Gabeau told me, and he knows things.”

  “How would he know the earl’s plans?”

  “The Frenchman and the earl are good friends—perhaps partners in some endeavor.”

  “Then this is hearsay?” Shannon stood. “Ian, I do not believe that you would ever lie to me. It is not in you. At the same time, you have no proof that what the Frenchman told you is true. My father always said that to repeat a lie is almost as bad as creating one.” She sniffed deliberately and with an indignant air. “So, I will leave you now.”

  “I will walk you to your door.”

  “No.” She whirled around. “There is no need.”

  “There most certainly is a need if I say there is a need,” Ian said. “I will accompany you to your door, or I will pick you up and carry you there. It is your choice. Which will it be?”

  “Neither. I will walk on my own two feet—alone.”

  “Then I will walk on my own two feet as w n ell—one step behind you.”

  When Shannon awoke the next morning, she saw that another note was pushed under the door during the night. Eager to read it, she got out of bed and reached down to retrieve it.

  My dear Miss Aimee,

  I had hoped that we might see each other today or soon. That is not to be. At first light, I will travel to London with Ladies Catherine and Victoria on urgent business. I love you so and long to kiss your sweet lips once more. I will contact you as soon as I return.

  Your Servant,

  Edward, The Earl of Northon.

  Ian was right.

  Shannon dropped the letter. It floated softly to the floor. The earl left Gatehaven without telling her in advance, just as Ian predicted. Yet he found time to inform that Frenchman of his plans.

  Miss Foster cleared her throat. Until that instant, Shannon hadn’t known she was standing in the doorway between her room and the connecting room.

  “Dress quickly, Miss Aimee,” Miss Foster said. “The earl and his family are away from Gatehaven at the moment, and we will be breaking the fast downstairs in the small dining room.” Miss Foster turned sharply and went back to her own room.

  So. Shannon bit her lower lip. Miss Foster also knew that the earl was leaving for London before Shannon did. Perhaps the entire household knew—if not everybody living in the nearby village of Fairs. She still loved Edward, but it was becoming harder and harder to trust him.

  Ian sat at a table in the smallest of the Frenchman’s dining rooms, breaking the fast.

  Was Shannon still upset with him?

  By now, she would know that the earl had indeed left for London. Would the earl’s abrupt actions insure a reconciliation with Shannon? He doubted it would make a difference—at least not right away. But she would come around—eventually. She always did.

  Ian looked up when Etienne Gabeau came in. He forced a smile. “Good morning, Monsieur. I hope you slept well.”

  He did not return Ian’s smile. “My ability to fall asleep was retarded when you chose to go out last night without telling me in advance.” The Frenchman took a plate from the stack and began filling it with food. “I heard your feet on the stairway long after midnight, Mr. Colquhoun. Wherever did you go—if I might ask?”

  “I was unable to sleep as well, sir. So I went out for a walk. A stroll in the night air is very invigorating—do you not think?”

  Gabeau held his plate in one hand and his cane in the other. “If you enjoy a good stroll in the open air so much, perhaps you would agree to give me a hand today.”

  “But of course. What would you have me do?’

  Leon hooked his cane over the back on the chair at the head of the table and sat down. “My driver has been under the weather and unable to perform his normal duties. I promised the vicar that I would make sure his dog was fed each day until he returns. Would you be willing to go to his cottage and feed the beast? The dog is called Buster, and is a very pesky animal, in my opinion. Buster is kept in a pen behind the cottage. Cook will tell you where the animal’s feed is kept and fill in all the other details.”

  “I have a fondness for dogs, sir. And I would be only too happy to see to Buster’s needs.” n

  Shannon only pretended to eat her porridge and dark bread. Instead she surveyed the dining room with its wooden walls painted white and its rectangular oak table. It was the first time she’d been allowed on the first floor since the day she arrived, and she traced her steps from the time she left her room on the second floor until she went in to break the fast. She intended to retain a picture in her mind of her surroundings in case that information was needed at a future date. She didn’t want to get lost as those other young women had and not be able to find her way back to her bedroom.

  “The earl and his family left for London rather unexpectedly,” Miss Foster explained. “I only learned of their journey the morning after I arrived here.”

  Shannon nodded, hoping Miss Foster thought she’d heard the news ahead of time as well. It was a weak attempt to pretend she was a member of the inner circle when she wasn’t. But it was the only thing she could think to do under the circumstances.

  “There wasn’t time for the Ladies Catherine and Victoria to cancel prior commitments,” Miss Foster went on. “An all-day meeting of the Spiritualist Society is scheduled in three days—here at Gatehaven. I must host it now, and it is quite a responsibility. You are welcome to attend our meeting or go your own way.”

  Shannon had no wish to attend all-day meetings sponsored by the Spiritualist Society—whatever that was. But Miss Foster had been kind to her. It might hurt her chaperone’s feelings if she refused to attend.

  “How many people will be attending the meeting?” Shannon asked.

  “I could not say—perhaps as many as twenty or twenty-five. I daresay carriages will be arriving all morning on the day of the first meeting. I hope the main parlor will hold them all. Will you be sitting in with us, Miss Aimee?”

  “Yes, thank you. I believe I will.”

  Shannon smiled internally. Maybe it was a meeting of all crystal ball owners in the area.

  “I tend to move around in my chair when I sit too long,” Shannon continued. “If that should happen, I might have to get up and go outside.”

  “Go and come as you please. I will not be available to serve as your chaperone until the meetings end.”

  As soon as Ian walked up to the dog’s cage, the animal growled.

  Ian frowned. “Steady, boy.”

  The dog’s watering trough was dry—as if it hadn’t held water in days. The feeding bowl was empty, too. Buster looked gaunt. From the evidence at hand, the animal hadn’t been fed or watered in a long time.

  “The Frenchman should be whipped for allowing this to happen,” he muttered.

  Ian put down the bucket of water. He set the bowl of food on top of it, and unlocking the animal’s cage, he went inside. The gate slammed shut behind him. “I will have you eating and drinking like a Scotsman at a wedding feast in minutes.”

  The brown and white dog lapped up every bit of the water. Ian poured more int
o the trough while Buster wolfed down milk and bits of meat in his bowl.

  Buster wouldn’t be called attractive in some circles and didn’t appear to be any special breed. But to a dog lover like Ian, the physical appearance of an animal didn’t matter. He had a notion that it didn’t matter to the vicar either.

  It would matter to someone like Etienne Gabeau.

  When Buster had his fill, he wagged his tail. Then he went over and licked Ian’s hand.

  “Good boy. Would you like to get out of that cage for a while and go for a walk? I have the time, if you do.”

  Ian opened the cage. The dog shot out like a flash of lightning.

  “Come back here, Buster,” Ian shouted. “You follow my rules. Or you go back in the cage.”

  The dog kept running. But instead of running away, he circled the vicar’s garden as if it was something he was in the habit of doing.

  “You want to play, do ya now?”

  The dog sped by right in front of Ian and made another turn on the grounds.

  “Very well, then. Run if you must. We can put off our walk for a bit.” Ian noticed a stone bench under a tree. “In the meantime, I’ll sit on this bench until you are ready.”

  As the dog slowed from a run to a fast walk, Ian thought about Peter. He should have returned from the home of that other earl by now. Then he thought about Shannon. All his thoughts began and ended with her.

  With the earl away from Gatehaven for a few days, Shannon would be safe—for now.

  At last, Buster ran up to Ian and put his paws on Ian’s knees.

  “Ready to go for a walk now, boy?”

  The dog wagged his tail vigorously.

  “You are?” Ian stood. “Then I guess it’s time to go.”

  They hiked down a dusty road that Ian had never seen previously. As he walked along, Ian saw a wooded area that skirted green fields and meadows. He assumed the land belonged to the earl, but perhaps at least part of it belonged to the Frenchman.

  At the edge of the woods near a pond he noticed a small cabin. It was located between the earl’s mansion and the vicar’s cottage. He couldn’t see it clearly from that distance, but the dwelling seemed to be pulling him forward—inviting him to come closer and take a look.

  The cabin in the woods was small but welcoming. His sister, Kate, would call it charming. Flowers he couldn’t identify in a variety of colors lined a wooden fence. The walls of the house were made of native stone, and the thatched roof reminded him of his little sisters and their gold colored hair.

  The dog barked. Then he charged forward playfully—straight for the cabin.

  “So, Buster. You’ve been here before, have you?”

  Ian stepped back—out of sight. He wasn’t in the mood to meet strangers. And why did he have the feeling he was being followed?

  Behind a cluster of trees he watched as the dog sat on the stoop and barked again. But nobody came to the door. Apparently, the people who lived there were not at home.

  For a moment, Ian thought he saw a young woman standing at one of the windows. Then she was gone.

  “Come on, boy. It’s time to start back. But we will go walking again— very soon. I promise.”

  Shannon had always liked hiking in the woods. Maybe next time he would invite her to go along with them. With the earl in London, she might accept.

  Peter opened his eyes again and shut them. The pain together with the light blinded him. He groaned. His mouth felt dry, and he was thirsty. He tried to speak. No words came.

  “Come here, Uncle. The young man’s eyes opened.”

  The woman still sounded like Kate. It must be her. But who was the uncle? Peter didn’t know where he was or how he got there, but it was comforting to hear Kate’s voice.

  He swallowed. “Kate.”

  “I be not Kate, sir,” the woman said. “I am called Millie. We wish to help ya. But my uncle must go to work soon. Let us feed you before ya go to sleep again.”

  Peter nodded. “How long have I been here?”

  “Two nights—one day—so far. You have cuts on your head and shoulder,” she said, “and bruises all over.”

  He wondered how she knew that.

  “I am going to be lifting your head now,” she said, “and givin’ ya some water.”

  He opened his eyes. The pain shut them again.

  “Be still and open your mouth, sir. I want to give you some water. And do not forget to swallow.”

  He smiled despite the pain. n

  The Frenchman kept Ian busy filling in for McGregor until the servant returned.

  Three days later, his driver and butler finally returned to his job.

  Ian planned to visit Shannon at Gatehaven. He’d sent her a letter telling her of his plans, and Monsieur Gabeau had said he would deliver the letter. But Ian had no idea whether or not she actually got it.

  After he’d returned Buster to his pen that morning, Ian journeyed on to Gatehaven. Perhaps the earl’s cook would prepare a picnic lunch for two. He’d never known Shannon to refuse the chance to go on a picnic.

  Ian went in the back door of the kitchen and found the cooking staff at work in earnest. They hardly noticed when he came in. He looked around but didn’t see Millie anywhere.

  “Where is Miss Millie,” he asked.

  The main cook turned to him and frowned. “Millie does not work here anymore.”

  “If I might ask, why not?’

  “We think she helped Miss Aimee move her things to the second floor without permission. I did not see her do it, mind you. But Maude thinks it was Millie what helped the girl escape—Millie and that fat uncle of hers.”

  “Monsieur Gabeau’s driver?”

  “The same.”

  Ian nodded. “The earl told the Monsieur that I was to have any available food I want from his kitchen as long as I am here. Today, I plan to explore the countryside while I have the chance. The vicar could return any day now.”

  “Tell me what you want, sir, and be quick about it. I must prepare a noon meal for over twenty-five people today. And I have much to do.”

  “I would like you to prepare a very large picnic lunch for me. I am hungry now and expect to be even more so by the time the sun is highest in the sky.”

  “Very well.” She pointed to a straight-backed chair in the corner by the door. “Sit over there, please, out of our way. I will have someone bring your lunch to you when I have it ready.”

  Shannon sat in a chair in the parlor, listening as the Spiritualist Society conducted their meeting. The members were made up of people of all ages, and they wore black, both men and women. A tall man talked about a frightening group of men called the Knights Templar.

  Their gestures and speech patterns together with what they actually said was so bizarre Shannon barely listened. Still, she expected to be taken on a tour of the red gate or perhaps a cemetery at any moment. The earl said the quality didn’t engage in gossip, illusions, or myths—perhaps because they were a part of the entire wretched mess.

  Some of the women wore black lace head coverings as well as black clothing. But Shannon’s head was bare. Her green muslin day dress and brown leather shoes looked as out of place as she felt.

  “Miss Aimee is visiting here from Scotland,” Miss Foster finally said.

  Shannon had turned her pearl ring so many times the skin underneath it looked red. Everybody studied her even more. Nobody said anything.

  She hadn’t uttered a sound since the meeting began, but she felt her eyes widen. Her heart had skipped so many beats she lost count. She’d tried to make a mental list of all the new words she’d heard so far. But divination was the only one that stuck in her mind.

  She’d heard that word previously. She couldn’t recall when or where.

  Miss Foster got up and stood in front of her chair. “We will go into the main dining room now.” She smiled. “Tables were prepared. Feel free to sit at the grand table or wherever you like. Our noon meal will be served, and then we will welcome th
e spirits.”

  Everybody clapped. Shannon pretended to, and then she tensed. Welcome the spirits? What did that mean?

  Shannon hadn’t eaten a bite of her first meal of the day. She didn’t feel like eating her noon meal either.

  The second part of the meeting began as soon as the society members finished eating. They squeezed close together around the huge dining table and made strange noises that sounded almost like a prayer, but wasn’t. They were saying something else entirely. Some looked dazed as if they had entered a world that Shannon was not a part of.

  Miss Foster sat at the head of the table in a chair that the earl probably sat in on other occasions. She looked different somehow—like someone Shannon had never met. Even the muscles in her face had changed and in a very disturbing way.

  “I will now attempt to reach Clem, my master,” she said in a manly voice.

  Shannon had heard enough. She got up from her chair.

  Normally, she would have given her excuses before heading outside. In this case, nobody would have noticed if she stood on her head. She crept quietly to the door and went out.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AS SOON AS her feet touched the stone path that surrounded the mansion, Shannon noticed Ian. He stood over by the fence but moved toward her as soon as their gazes connected. She was so glad to see him; she raced toward him. When she reached him, he embraced her within the circle of his arms.

  “What is wrong, lass? You are trembling.”

  “I have much to tell you, but not here. Just hold me.”

  “Have you eaten?” He held up a straw basket so she could see it. “I have brought us a lunch.”

  “You eat, Ian. I cannot right now.”

  “Then I will not eat until later.” He took her arm. “Where would all the visitors be now?”

  “In the main dining room.”

  “Then we shall go into the earl’s library. I doubt the visitors would go in there unless they were invited.” He smiled. “Come. Monsieur Gabeau told me exactly how to find the library. It will be quiet there.”