Serena (17 page)

“I do, yes, I do. I believe in it and have been waiting for it since from the time I left school,” she answered as honestly as she could.

“And what of your history with Warren? What was that? Was that true love?”

“Ah, no, of course not. I was young and I fancied myself
in love
, but it wasn’t long before I realized it was no more than a schoolgirl’s crush. He liked me a great deal, but he needed to marry the richest girl in the county. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to propose to the poor little thing, but it was too late. When he turned with an eye to me, well, you see, I had already recovered from the malady.”

His eyes were twinkling. “Had you? I am glad of it.”

The mature woman in the mobcap and pretty apron appeared again and asked if she could fetch them anything else, and Serena said, “Oh yes, I would like that bit of chocolate cake …”

His lordship sat back and laughed. “Where do you put it all?”

She smiled and sipped her coffee.

Oh, but he was everything she could want in a man. Could she win his heart? Could she?

~ Fourteen ~

LORD DANIEL PENDLETON and his nephew had left the inn that same afternoon and taken up residence as Lewis had begged them to do in his charming Tucker Manor.

Restless, Freddy had taken a turn about the grounds with Lewis chattering at him. Lewis was only a few years older, and as they had the same interests it wasn’t long before they became very good friends. The two had returned to the house, still going on about a variety of subjects, when his lordship heard Lewis tell Freddy that Oxford was the best of places and that he had some very great times while a student there.

Freddy agreed with youthful exuberance, and his lordship listened as the two began comparing adventures.

Well pleased to see the two young men with their heads together and laughing, he retired to the library and took up a book he had been meaning to read. As he sat back and warmed himself by the fire, the library door burst open and a road-weary Sir Jasper entered with a grunt.

He smiled at his lordship and said, “Ah, Lewis finally dragged you here. Good. Where is he?”

“They walked in, and then Lewis remembered that he hadn’t given Freddy a tour of the stables … out they went.” His lordship grinned.

“Good, good.” He turned to the butler and said, “Be a good man and see if you can put together a tray of cheese and bread and anything else you can find. I am half starving and shan’t make it to dinner.”

“Very good, sir,” the retainer said and withdrew.

Sir Jasper rubbed his hands as he moved to stand by the fire and remarked, “Chilled to the bone. Probably should have taken my coach but thought it would be quicker to ride and change horses at Hathborne.”

“You look fagged to death,” his lordship remarked, frowning.

“Aye.” He drew a chair closer to the fire and plopped heavily into its massive cushion. “Lewis’ bride, a good sort. I liked her from the start. Like the way she furnished the place, chose suitable chairs, comfortable,” he said and sighed again.

His lordship got up, went to the sideboard, poured a brandy, and brought it to him. “Here, take this, ol’ man.”

Jasper did indeed take up the snifter, swirl, and sip before sighing again and saying, “Well, Danny, ’tis done. All we can do now is keep a sharp eye.”

His lordship eyed him. “Do you mean to explain what that means?”

“All I can tell you is that the Crown means to have this settled one way or another. The Treasury Department is bent on finding the leak in their armor, and they don’t care whose head is sacrificed in the process. It is and will be an ugly business. I am glad I am not connected to the branch of government that is conducting this affair.”

“Did you find out what precisely they mean to do?”

“No, I am not privy to that, only to the information that heads are about to roll. I did, however, arrange the little matter we discussed. That is taken care of,” he added in a low voice.

A servant appeared with a tray laden with food, and he set it on the coffee table before bowing himself out.

Jasper thanked him and tore off a piece of bread and munched for a moment. The quiet of the scene then exploded as Freddy, followed by Lewis, entered, saw the arrangement of cheese and bread, and exclaimed, “Food!” He turned to his new friend and said, “Lewis, what a wonderfully efficient staff you have here at the grange.” After patting first his uncle and then Sir Jasper on their backs, he dove in, found a tart, and stuffed it into his mouth.

Sir Jasper pulled a face at him and said, “Young barbarian. I had an eye on that particular tart.”

Freddy grinned. “Did you …?” He extended what was left towards Sir Jasper unselfishly and said, “Here, then, sir, do take it.”

“Certainly not, you absurd boy,” Sir Jasper answered on a chuckle.

His lordship burst out laughing and poured himself another glass of wine before taking a seat and a piece of bread.

Sir Jasper saw his brother in the doorway drop a kiss on his young bride’s lips and pat her rump as he entered the library. “Gentlemen, my wife tells me that we shall observe early country hours for dinner tonight.”

“Excellent, scamp,” remarked his brother as Lewis went directly to him and put an affectionate hand on his shoulder.

“You look road weary, Jasper … why not go up and take a nap before dinner?” Lewis said.

“I am not quite that old, youngster.” Jasper laughed. “Tell me about your day. What have you and Freddy been up to?”

Freddy answered, with a great deal of excitement making him move about, “Zounds, but, you will never credit it. Before we went to the stables we took a walk near the woods bordering the property and came upon the Forest ponies. Clever little beasts. Small, but strong in the works, full of sport. Prime, I say, simply prime.”

His uncle frowned. “I would prefer it for now, Freddy, if you would stay away from the woods.”

“Forest ponies—prime?” Sir Jasper laughed. “Deuced ugly, if you ask me.” He turned to his younger brother. “Lewis, never say you mean to breed a New Forest mare to that splendid American of yours?”

Lewis laughed. “Now, now, Jasper, don’t look down your hawk nose at our ponies. Splendid horses, and they make famous good hunters here in the New Forest. They know enough to stay away from the bogs for one thing and can manage through the trees with great agility.”

“Bah! There isn’t a one I would care to take to hunt the Quorn,” Sir Jasper said with a shake of his head.

“Well, but you are wrong. They have heart and make excellent jumpers. I was in a sight of trouble as Caldwell and I got separated from the huntsman and the pack once last season. There the two of us were with four or five hounds that ran a false scent. The ground on the north end is boggy—you can’t make it out until it is too late. Well, thought it was only mud you know and took my little Blackie, a Forest Pony, right into it against his will. He tried awfully not to go forward, but I made him. Slurped us right up to his knees. I stood in my stirrups to take my weight off, and damn if Blackie didn’t pull himself right out with his fores. Something to see. Got those fores on solid ground, and strong little prime he was … heard that slop suck at him, but out he got. I stayed off his back, and he was able to pull us both to safety. Caldwell came up behind to see it and immediately gave me an order for one of my new foals. What do you say to that?”

Sir Jasper mumbled unintelligibly for a moment, but his lordship laughed and raised his glass of wine in a salute. “Here then, to the new breed you have created.” He turned to his nephew and said, “So I take it that you both had a splendid but otherwise uneventful day?”

“Aye,” Freddy said grinning. “I did stop by at Moorely, but Serena wasn’t at home.”

“I see,” was all his lordship said.

“No, it is a wonder that her uncle allows her to careen over the countryside unattended, when there are who knows what lurking about,” Sir Jasper remarked.

“Careening about the countryside?” His lordship leaned forward. “What can you mean?”

“Well, Freddy said she wasn’t home … and I did see her not thirty minutes ago, on Bolder Road. I simply assumed she was on her way to the rectory.”

“To the rectory?” His lordship now stood up. “Whatever for?”

Sir Jasper frowned. “Now how should I know that?”

“Perhaps she was visiting Eustace?” Lewis suggested. “Though don’t know why she should want to. Prosy fellow.”

“No, no.” His lordship paced a moment. “She wouldn’t visit Eustace. We bumped into him in town earlier today, and he said something about having business to discharge.”

“Well, what then was she doing?” Freddy asked.

“I tell you what,” Sir Jasper said. “Her uncle needs to draw in the reins … at least for now.”

“Ha!” Freddy laughed at this. “I’d like to see you try that. Not biddable, you know.”

“Is she not?” returned his uncle, quietly, a soft smile lingering about his lips. “Is she not?”

~ Fifteen ~

JOE REED WORE knit dark gloves with exposed fingertips, and he used his nails to play with his grizzled beard. He looked down at the old woolen gloves cut off at the knuckles and sighed heavily. His nails were dirty and jagged, much like the man he had become. He had chosen this way of life because he had not been able to find another way to survive. He couldn’t read, he couldn’t hold any but the most menial of jobs, and those didn’t make him enough blunt to even eat properly. Thus, he had turned to a life of crime. It wasn’t easier than the farming he had at first attempted to take on, but it paid better and more often.

Lulworth Tavern afforded him a dark corner, and he sat back and studied the small man seated across the square table from him. He glanced at the dimly lit galley, leaned forward, and said in a low, angry voice, “Oi tell ye this fancy cove giving us orders means to bob us a trick in the end. Oi want to know why we ain’t dividing up the rig now. Oi ask ye,
why
? Oi don’t loike it. Oi think he needs watching, what say ye?”

“Aye, agreed,” his small companion grunted.

Joe Reed nodded his head. “And the finified young lord whot saw me after Oi did in Tall Tee … he needs some attention, don’t he?”

“Aye.” The small man was a man of few words, rarely speaking unless matters called for it.

“Right then, Oi haven’t been able to get to him yet, and Oi mean to tell our flash covey that we wants our share or else … whot say ye?”

“Oi don’t know. Queer that sounds to me. Ye don’t want to take a chance taking another shot at gentry. Trouble leads that way, and the flash covey, well, ye best be careful telling him anything, or ye’ll find yerself in a shallow grave.”

“Whot then?”

“Joe, ye ain’t thinking. We gots to find where he has
it hidden
, that’s whot we gots to do. Then … we make our move.”

“Aye, we’ll have to work on it,” Joe answered thoughtfully. “Ye be right. Oi always loike running things by ye. Got a good head on yer shoulders, and Oi tell ye whot, I was happy to do Tall Tee in, the way he was always slapping ye around.”

The small man grunted, “Thankee … Oi hated him, Oi did. And that young flash covey, well, he
could
be trouble, but this time, if ye toikes a shot, well then, toike a shot and make it work.”

“Gots to find him first. He left the inn … ye know.”

“Aye, but he is forever visiting that Moorely mort. Saw them together Oi did. Wait till then … mayhap pop them both off at the same time, free and clear.”

“Aye, that’ll do. That’ll do.”

* * *

Serena had returned from town and had not been home more than ten minutes when she made up her mind. She rushed into the library where her uncle was enjoying a fire and a good book, planted a kiss upon his cheek, and told him she had one or two more things to do outdoors.

He waved her off, telling her that he expected his good friend to be dropping by as was his habit late in the day.

Pleased that he would have company, she hurried upstairs and donned her riding clothes. A few moments after that found her at the barn saddling up her mare and telling her groom he could not accompany her as she was only taking a quick ride to the rectory.

Reverend Eustace’s parish of Bolder was comprised of a small farmer’s village, no more than five farms, one handsome house, perhaps a smattering of no more than a dozen smaller ones occupied by the lesser gentry, and a number of picturesque cottages.

The rectory itself, which bordered the Piney Woods of the New Forest, was not richly appointed, with only a small garden front and back. Although it was a modest parish, it was most certainly a respectable establishment and charmingly designed.

Serena had always enjoyed her visits to the rectory when the Reverend Thomas FitzWilliams had been there. He had been a dear friend of her uncle’s, and although he had moved on to a larger parish in the north country, he and her uncle maintained a lively exchange of mail.

She arrived at the arched doorway where the housekeeper, Mrs. Plumstock, who had stayed on with Eustace, opened the door, and smiled. “Lord love you, child, where have you been all these weeks? I have missed your visits sorely.” She ushered Serena within. “Come in … sit. The reverend is not home yet, and you and I can sit with a hot cup of tea and have a lovely chat.” She led her towards the kitchen.

“That would be lovely, Mrs. Plumstock, as it is you I have come to see,” Serena told her as she followed her. “In fact, I just saw the reverend in town and knew he would not yet have returned from his errands.”

“Ah,” said Mrs. Plumstock. “Right then … sit yourself down.”

Serena had always loved this cozy kitchen. Potted herbs adorned the windowsill, and copper pans hung near the large brick fireplace. Dark oak beams lined the ceiling and baskets hung in various shapes and sizes.

In the center of the lovely room was a dark oak round table, and Serena pulled up a wooden chair and sat as Mrs. Plumstock poured her a cup of tea and pushed freshly baked pastry at her.

She sipped as Mrs. Plumstock asked, “Now then, how is your uncle? I heard he took sick.”

She laughed. “He is up and about but as crotchety as ever, thank goodness. In fact, he tells me that tomorrow he means to drive me over to Mr. and Mrs. Lewis Tucker’s for luncheon. He wants to take a look at an American horse Lewis Tucker imported for breeding.”

“Aye, I heard tell that ’tis a magnificent animal, strong in the works.” Mrs. Plumstock nodded with approval. She reached for a biscuit and took a sizeable bite as she leaned onto the table. “Well now, isn’t this nice … having you here again for a cozy chat. I must tell you, I miss the Reverend Thomas a great deal. Things are not quite the same …”

“Indeed, we miss him as well. Such wondrous stories he had a store of. Do you remember the one about William II, you know, King Rufus?”

“Bloodthirsty devil that he was,” grumbled Mrs. Plumstock. “Red-bearded, wild-tempered …”

“And put to death in our own New Forest,” Serena said purposely.

“Ah, tch tch, now, that was only a story. It is written that he was killed while hunting in the New Forest and that it was no more than an accident,” Mrs. Plumstock said, putting down her cup of tea. “We don’t want to be calling our ancestors murderers, now, do we?”

Serena laughed. “No, we don’t, but the Reverend Thomas said that the story was all about an underground tunnel that led to the churchyard … by one of the tombstones. No one really knew which tombstone. I remember that he said two men hid beneath its hideaway trapdoor and waited for their chance to pop off a shot at Rufus the Miserable. They weren’t caught because they simply vanished. Remember the story? He said that the king’s men looked all over the New Forest but of course never thought to look underground.” Serena couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice.

“Pop off a shot, indeed.” Mrs. Plumstock laughed. “What kind of talk is that for a gentry maid? Lord love you, child, they didn’t even have guns when Rufus roamed …” Mrs. Plumstock said. “The story was that he was stabbed, with his own hunting knife, and then it was put about that he must have fallen somehow on the blade.”

“But we know better, don’t we?” Serena said, very serious now.

“Maybe we do, and maybe we don’t,” was all Mrs. Plumstock said, frowning.

“This is important. Mrs. Plumstock. I am a grown woman, and there is no danger that I mean to find a tunnel and perhaps get hurt. I once heard Reverend Thomas tell my uncle that he found the hidden passage. They saw me standing there listening and immediately changed the subject, but I know he found it.”

“Faith, why is it so important, my lovely?”

“Because I have always believed it was in the Tregaron Crypt,” Serena said, watching for a reaction. She was well pleased when Mrs. Plumstock gasped.

“Bless you, child. ’Tis what I have always believed as well.”

“Why? What made you think so?”

“Saw Reverend Thomas puttering around there. One night he was late for dinner, and I went out to fetch him. Heard him puttering in the churchyard, and he was in the crypt. I called to him, and he came out grinning like a boy. I knew. I just knew he found it.”

“Did he tell you anything about it?”

“In a manner of speaking he did. He winked at me and said, ‘some legends are true’.”

“I knew it,” Serena said with some excitement.

“Never you mind. Forget all this nonsense of tunnels and crypts. No good can come of it,” Mrs. Plumstock warned. “’Tis just what I told Reverend Eustace when he asked about the Rufus legend, but did he mind me? No, he did not.”

“What do you mean?” Serena felt a wave of shock scurry through her blood.
No … impossible
, she told herself.

“Well, he was fiddling in the garden, and I went out to tell him dinner was getting cold. Didn’t find him in the garden, and I noticed a movement in the churchyard. Found him—I was just walking past the crypt when he startled me. I shrieked to high heaven and told him he near scared me to death he did.”

“So he was interested in the legend of Rufus?”

“I don’t know how interested. He has never mentioned it since that night.”

Serena felt sick. “I see. So it is possible he doesn’t even know if the tunnel really exists?”

“Oh, as to that, he does. I did say that I was sure Reverend Thomas had found it … in the Tregaron Crypt.”

Serena took the last sip of her tea, her mind racing. She got up a few moments after that, dropped a kiss on Mrs. Plumstock’s forehead, pulled on her riding cloak, and started for the door. “I must run, for it will be dusk soon, and Uncle has very strict rules about my being out alone.”

She rushed home, her mind abuzz with the confirmation of her suspicions. Whoever had been behind the robbery of the gold meant for Wellington had known about the underground tunnel. She had no doubt whatsoever that the gold was hidden there … but how, just how, had he managed to get it there unnoticed by either the reverend or Mrs. Plumstock?

At night? Mrs. Plumstock didn’t live at the rectory but at her husband’s little farmhouse just down the road. Perhaps he had managed it while Eustace was asleep, but how had he carried such a heavy load? In smaller bundles, no doubt, large enough to hold a sufficient amount but not too heavy to drag?

This really needed further investigation. Her first reaction was to send a note around to his lordship, but she stopped herself.

She was very certain he would try and protect her by leaving her out of any investigation he might put forward. No. She couldn’t draw him in just yet. She didn’t want to investigate the crypt alone either.

Freddy.

Of course, she would ask Freddy, and then if her suspicions were confirmed, they would immediately put the matter into Daniel’s hands. Daniel? Where had that come from? She mustn’t think of him like that. She had to find a way to keep herself aloof and apart, but how could she, when all she wanted was to whisper his name and feel his arms around her?