Chapter 31
Mira seemed nervous when she and Penelope went for their daily walk a few days later. Penelope thought Mira had made great strides in overcoming her self-consciousness. She interacted with the servants in a friendly, open way that was reciprocated. She initiated conversations and stayed in the parlour talking with the Balfours long after she had normally retired for the evening.
Penelope thought it only natural. She didn’t think much about her scar in the company of friends and family. She wasn’t self-conscious at all. Mira was becoming comfortable around Penelope’s family. It must be the same for her.
“Mira, is there anything I can do for you? You seem a little out of sorts today,” Penelope said, her hand gently on Mira’s arm.
Mira shook her head and looked down at the ground. “No, it’s nothing, I’m sure.”
Penelope stopped walking. “It doesn’t seem like nothing. You can trust me, Mira. No matter what it is I’ll help you, or I’ll just be here to listen. Whatever you need.
“Let’s sit,” Penelope said, pointing to a tree a short walk away.
Mira adjusted herself on the ground until she was facing Penelope. She took her hands into Penelope’s hands. From the stricken look on Mira’s face, Penelope knew whatever Mira had to say was serious.
“Since I was a little girl until the day my father died, I feared him. He wanted me to be perfect, and when I did something he thought was wrong, he would boil water in a big pot, put on his thick gloves, grab me by the wrists, and hold my hands in the water until he thought I suffered enough.
“I never knew what I did wrong. He wouldn’t tell me. He said I should know without him having to tell me. The irony was, the more punishment I got for being imperfect, the more imperfect I became. My hands are an angry, discoloured mess. I thank God they still work.
“That isn’t really what I wanted you to know. But for you to understand what I need to tell you, you need to understand something first.
“I knew when my father was coming for me. It would pop into my mind and clench tight on my brain so there was no mistaking it. And it was always, always true. Every time, it was true.
“Something has popped into my mind. Something terrible. But I don’t see enough of it to explain it all. There is to be a fire. A house fire. I can’t picture where in the house or the time of day. I should see daylight or darkness, but I cannot.”
Mira squeezed Penelope’s hands. “I wish I had more, but I don’t.” She shrugged.
“Can you see the area of the house to describe it?” Penelope asked.
Mira shook her head, “No, but I haven’t been in every room of the house. It could be anywhere.”
“The whole house or a part of it?”
Mira looked into Penelope’s eyes. “A part of it.”
“Does that part of the house burn to the ground? Are people stuck inside?”
Mira closed her eyes for a moment, probably trying to picture the scene again. Penelope waited silently, trying to keep from breaking her concentration.
“Not to the ground. It’s hectic inside. Many people running around trying to put the fire out. It takes them a while, but they manage to do it. But something is very wrong,” she said quietly. Then she lifted her head. “I don’t know anymore.”
“Wrong? Is the roof going to cave in?”
Mira squeezed her hands again. “There is nothing more, Penelope. I’m sorry.”
“Just one more question, Mira. When does this happen? This week? This month?”
“Soon.”
*****
Penelope entered the house and went straight into Edward’s office. She told him Mira’s vision, and he called Mira into his office to hear it for himself. She spoke with a conviction in her voice he had never heard from her.
The three of them walked every room in the house, looking for a room that looked familiar to Mira. None did. Back in his office, he called in every footman he had to take all but one candle out of every room and to make sure there was a screen in front of every fireplace.
Maybe, he eliminated the cause of a fire so the vision wouldn’t come true. Maybe not. He ordered buckets of water to be placed in every room to douse flames should they start. And he had a footman check every room in a continuous loop through the day and night.
Edward was comfortable he had done just about everything he could to keep his house and the people under its roof intact.
*****
Henry knew the cook was putting something in his food. He didn’t care. He couldn’t stop it, anyway. The problem was, whatever it was, was keeping him awake.
It was becoming a regular pattern for him. First, give up trying to sleep in the middle of the night. Second, go to the parlour, light a fire in the fireplace, place lit candelabra on the end table and read.
His guards gave him space. One stood near the door, the other about six feet away. He could read in peace and then, in a couple of hours, he could go back to bed and sleep.
One night, he looked down at his book turning the pages at intervals but thinking of a plan to escape. It was brilliant because it was simple.
For three nights, he went to the parlour and pretended to read but moved his eyes in every direction of the room. On the fourth night, he struck.
Earlier in the day, Henry had left his book near the windows adorned with heavy drapes. After lighting his candelabra, Henry walked casually to where the book was sitting on the table next to the window and bent over to pick it up.
Instead, he moved the candelabra behind the curtain, holding it to the fabric until a wide swath of the curtain was on fire. His guards were on him by then, but they had the dilemma of holding onto Henry or dousing the fire.
Given every door and window was locked, so Henry couldn’t go anywhere, they decided to douse the fire and wake the house. Henry slowly backed out of the room and into the shadows of the foyer.
When Minton ran into the parlour, one of the guards yelled at him to open the front door and get everyone out of the house. Minton did as asked.
And that is how Henry escaped the dower house.
The main house was alerted to the fire, and every footman and stable boy was sent down to help. Edward dressed and prepared to leave, but not before putting a guard on Cecilia and Penelope’s door. No one had to tell him Henry escaped.
By eight in the morning, the fire was out. The parlour was a charred and smelly mess, and Edward was questioning the guards. He couldn’t really fault them for what happened. Everyone in the house did the right thing. Everyone except Henry.
Edward gathered the guards, the footmen, the inside and outside male servants except for Thomas and Minton and every villager who wanted to join for a mission to catch Henry. He couldn’t have gone far without a horse – Edward was sure none were missing. And Henry wasn’t one to outwit that many people.
On horses, circling the house, the men inched away from the structure to the open fields looking for footprints.
Once the footprints were found, they all followed the trail. Henry had made a sorry attempt to confuse someone who might be following him by going around in wide circles a couple of times before moving on towards the main house.
Edward assigned men to the perimeter of the house and others to certain rooms inside the house. There were plenty of men. A man could search every room of the house and a man could be stationed on the outside perimeter of the house with a man on horseback every ten feet.
Edward spoke in a low voice. “You all have your room assignments. Slowly and quietly, go to the room assigned and search it. Then, stay there in the open door and wait. If you hear a call for help, go.”
He took the stairs two at a time and ran to Cecilia’s room. He gently knocked and went into it, finding Cecilia sitting up in bed, having just woken.
Edward bent until his mouth was close to her ear and whispered, “Henry is in the house –”
Cecilia gasped as Edward pulled her out of bed.
“ – so put on something over your night-rail, and come with me. Grab your gown to put on later if you must.”
He took her hand and hurried her along down the stairs. “Take her to the guarded cottage then come back.”
Cecilia went to protest, but Edward’s back was already to her, and his man was taking her arm in his.
This time at the top of the stairs, Edward went to Penelope’s bedroom. He entered without knocking. Her empty bed was dishevelled with her bedding pulled over the side and some of it on the floor.
Edward panicked. “Penelope,” he shouted. He listened. Her bedroom was still, and Edward stood in the middle dizzy with fear.
He tore away from the grip of his terrifying thoughts and called down for help. He thoroughly checked the room, looking at the ground below her window, checking under her bed, and climbing into her wardrobe. She was gone.
He heard the footsteps behind him. Backing out of the wardrobe, he said, “She’s gone.”
*****
He looked from one man to the next. “Has the entire house been searched? Kitchen? Storeroom? Basement?”
Edward tried to remember the places they would play when they were younger. He dropped to his knees.
“Help me move this rug away from the floor.”
The trap door, built in the original house close to one hundred years ago as an escape if the Scots should attack, lay silently at Edward’s knees.
He pulled it up and looked below. There was no light coming from inside, but there were no cobwebs either.
He stood. “We need ten torches and fifty men. We are going into the tunnels, and we’ll check every one of them. I’ll station a man at every tunnel exit.
Ten minutes later, the men were ready. He pointed to Penelope’s bedroom. “Two into the tunnel with one torch. One at the entrance in case someone comes out.” He marched the men through four more bedrooms, each with a trap door, and gave identical orders.
Edward took the remaining men downstairs and showed them the trap doors in the parlour, the office, and the larder.
“The rest of you, come with me.” Edward ran to a wooded area and stopped at a stone wall. He walked next to the wall, kicking it every couple of steps. One kick hit a soft clump of branches.
“Come help me,” he said, as he got on his knees and tore at the branches.
Soon, they were staring at a hole in the stone wall that became a tunnel.
“Two, stay here and guard this opening. The rest of you come with me.”
Edward sprinted to the river and stopped, his head swivelling to the right and left, trying to get his bearings. How many years ago had he seen this exit? How many times? Once? Twice?
He started walking close to the river, watching for something, anything unusual to his right-hand side. He turned and looked upriver again.
“Does anyone know where the house is from here?”
One of the men, confident in his speech said, “It’s there,” pointing far north of where Edward thought it was.
He adjusted his steps then turned. At a slower pace than before, he watched for something, anything that looked out of place.
“My Lord?” one of his men called.
Edward ran over and looked. Underneath some leaves and a little soil was a round flat disk made of wood.
“Clean it off and lift it,” Edward said.
It was the opening. “Two of you, stay here.”
Edward sprinted again. He went to the stables, not expecting much since the stable master told him no horses were missing. Could they be in the tunnel waiting for a chance to steal a horse or two?
At the very back of the last stall, Edward brushed aside the hay and opened the trap door. What he saw made his heart sink.
“No cobwebs. They came through here. Get Joey.”
“My Lord?”
“Yes, Joey. You did a count of the horses when we found Lady Penelope missing this morning?”
“Yes, My Lord. All the horses were here.”
“What about carriages or carts, are they all here?”
“Yes, My Lord,” Joey said. “The empty delivery cart was gone, but Boney, the delivery man, gets up early to be on his way.”
Edward turned and put his fingers to his mouth, giving out a loud, shrill whistle. He turned back to Joey.
“Can you describe the delivery man, Boney?”
“He’s really old. He has a lot of white hair, and he’s skinny.”
Edward turned. “Did you all hear that?”
The men nodded. “What about the cart, Joey. Can you describe it?”
“Yes, My Lord. It has two wheels close to the ground and sides about this high.” Joey gestured to indicate the sides were about eighteen inches high.
“And the horse?”
“Nicer than you’d expect, My Lord. Dappled, but young and strong. I think that horse serves old Boney well.”
“Thank you, Joey. Saddle every horse we have.” He turned to his men. “Some of you help him.”
He looked down. “Gerald,” he yelled.
“Yes, My Lord.”
“We need to track that wagon. We’ll follow you.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
Edward went back to the front door while waiting for the mounts.
Frank Abbott, Edward’s steward at Edgewood, had been pacing by the front door ever since Edward left to block off the passage exits. He and the staff were silent. There was really nothing to say.
Then Edward sprinted up to them.
“It looks as though he came through the stables tunnel and stole a delivery cart. As soon as the mounts are ready, we’re on our way to find him. In case we’re wrong, I want everyone in place where they are until I get back. That includes the men at the exits.
“Once the tunnels have been searched, have those men go to the dower house. Have them do whatever Minton requires. Any questions, Frank?”
“Is it safe for people to come and go from the village?”
Edward stood still, breathing deep, thinking how he would answer. He thought Henry was a distance away by now, and Henry only wanted Penelope. But would Henry use a villager as a hostage?
“Only in groups of three or more, understand?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
Edward was being called back to the stables. The horses must be ready.
“Thank you, Frank,” he said, then left.
*****
The cartwheels were easy to track. The ruts in the road would slow down their progress. At the rate the horses were going, Edward hoped to catch up with them within an hour.
The horses turned the bend and stopped short.
“Halt,” Edward called.
The men dismounted and stared at the scene. Henry hadn’t even bothered dragging Boney’s body to the side of the road. He left the cart there too.
Edward called two of his men forward.
“Move this cart, and bring this man back to be buried. Have a couple of stable boys do it so you can catch up with us.
“Now we’re tracking one horse. Everyone take a look, and let’s go.”
“My Lord?” one of his trackers came to Edward.
He turned, “Yes?”
“I think he’s headed for the hunting lodge.”
Edward’s eyes went wide. “That’s it.”
Edward turned, “I want two trackers to stay here and track this horse to make sure we’re not on a fool’s errand. If you find something, one of you come to us. The other stay put.
“If you don’t find anything, meet us at the lodge.”
Edward mounted his horse and began to gallop down the road to the hunting lodge. All but two followed.
*****