Sixteen

Elisabeth woke with a start and sat up quickly. She hadn’t thought she would sleep, but here was light showing through a gap in the curtains at her window. She jumped out of bed, afraid she’d missed her chance to leave the house, but when she pulled the curtains back, she saw that it was only just dawn. She could hear no noises in the house below. She dressed quickly in her old riding habit and picked up her case. If she could just get away without attracting anyone’s attention, she thought, they could do nothing. She went softly down to the hall and stood listening a moment. Still, no sounds. She crept to the kitchen, and seeing no one about, added a bit of bread and cheese to the things in her case.

Gently, Elisabeth unlocked the door into the back garden and went out, pulling it closed behind her. Growser was lying with his head on his paws, but he jumped up as soon as he saw her and strained at the chain clipped to his collar. He barked once before Elisabeth could reach him, but when she put her hand on his head and begged him to be quiet he complied, rather surprising her. She loosed him quickly and entwined her fingers in his collar. Together, they traversed the garden and came to the stables.

It was here that Elisabeth was most afraid of discovery. The grooms were often up very early, she knew, and it would take her a little time to get her horse saddled herself. She paused in the stableyard, listening again. She heard nothing but the movements of the horses in their stalls. They advanced to the stable door, and Elisabeth peered around it. She could see no one in the building. She pulled Growser into the room and shut the door. With some difficulty, she got her saddle down from its high hook and saddled her mare.

Checking the stableyard once more, Elisabeth directed her small party out. She mounted at the block and urged her horse to the yard gate. This was the time when she might be caught. They reached the exit; Elisabeth leaned down and opened the gate, and they were out. Growser capered about excitedly. Kicking her horse’s flanks, she got them all under way.

Growser was eager. He led them in a lope past the park and on to the north road. There were almost no pedestrians about at this early hour, and most vehicles were heavy delivery carts. Some of their drivers looked curiously at Elisabeth, but no one offered to accost her. They traveled rapidly at first, and very soon, they were nearing the outskirts of town. Buildings gradually gave way to open fields and farms, and Elisabeth relaxed somewhat.

They had ridden for about an hour and were well out of town when Growser stopped for the first time. He looked about him for a minute, then sat down by the side of the road and began to scratch his ear. Elisabeth pulled up and watched him. When he finished scratching but still showed no signs of moving on, she said, “Growser, you wretched dog, what are you doing? You aren’t giving up now, certainly?”

Growser cocked an ear and gazed up at her, his tongue lolling out amiably. He stretched out on the grass at the verge of the road and panted.

“Are you just tired, perhaps?” continued Elisabeth without much hope. She leaned back in the saddle and sighed. “How bird-witted I shall seem,” she said to herself, “arriving home from my adventure with nothing to show.” Two carriages passed as time went on; the driver of one looked at Elisabeth very insolently, she thought. At last, she addressed Growser again, feeling at once very annoyed and very silly. “All right, you tiresome animal, either go on or turn and go home. I shan’t wait here any longer.”

To her astonishment, Growser rose and began to trot along the road once more. She paused a moment, wondering at the wisdom of following him further, then shrugged and rode forward. “I may as well go on to the end now,” she murmured. “I can’t appear any more foolish than I shall if I go home now.”

Moving more slowly, they traveled a good distance; then, Growser stopped again. But before Elisabeth could scold him, he turned and headed down a small lane that intersected the main road. Elisabeth’s spirits rose; perhaps the dog did know where he was going after all. This road was tortuous and very long. The sun began to be hot on Elisabeth’s head. Ten o’clock came and passed. Elisabeth munched some of her bread and cheese guiltily, scolding herself for forgetting to bring anything for Growser. They’d been riding for nearly four hours, and she was tiring. Too, the lane was narrow and unkempt—the hedges nearly meeting in the middle in some places—and she was forced to bend and duck repeatedly. The exertion tired her even more, and the state of the lane made her a bit uneasy. What could be at the end of such a thoroughfare?

Her question was answered soon after. They came out of the lane into another highway, and Growser turned unerringly to the right. Elisabeth pulled a stray twig from her hair, shrugged, and followed. This road was well-kept and well-traveled, though it was not one of the main London roads. They passed several prosperous-looking farms and were greeted pleasantly by passersby. Elisabeth relaxed again.

By noon, however, she was tired out. She pulled up and called to Growser to stop. “I must rest a moment,” she told him. “I am too stiff and cramped to go on.” The dog halted with seeming reluctance, and when Elisabeth started to dismount, he jumped up at her, barking. His insistent leaps prevented her from climbing down; she was afraid he would cause her to fall. “Growser,” she commanded, “stand away, sit down.” But the dog showed no signs of obeying. Elisabeth sat back in her saddle, sighing. “This is not at all what I expected,” she said aloud. “Apparently, an adventure is nothing more than a tired back, a headache, and a good deal of annoyance.” Growser had moved away a little, and again she tried to get down. The dog hurried back and jumped at her once more.

She put a hand to her aching forehead. For a moment, all was quiet. “Very well,” she said looking up, “let us go on, then. But I tell you now, Growser, if we do not find Tony at the end of this journey, you’ll have to find a new home.” She kicked her horse, and they started forward.

Half an hour passed, and they began to follow a high stone wall which ran along the right side of the road. Even mounted, Elisabeth couldn’t see over it, and the top appeared to be spiked and strewn with broken glass. However, ivy also grew thickly across it, and the mortar between the stones was crumbling in places, rather defeating its ferocious purpose. It was a very long wall. Elisabeth stood in her stirrups and tried to see the end, but it curved out of sight far ahead. However, there was a large gate further on; she looked at Growser hopefully.

But the dog stopped almost immediately, a good distance from this opening. He turned to the wall at a place where it had begun to collapse and had been propped up with wooden beams inside. The top third of its height was gone here, and the remainder was more a pile of stones than a wall. This section extended for at least six feet, leaving a sizable gap. Growser looked at the opening, whined, peered over his shoulder at Elisabeth, and then, just as she was about to call him, jumped up and clambered over the wall, disappearing into the park beyond. “Growser!” called Elisabeth sharply. “Come back here.” She waited; there was no response. She pounded on her leg with a gloved fist. “Growser,” she shouted again. The dog did not return. Elisabeth looked at the wall, then at her horse, and finally at the empty road before her. “Splendid,” she said to herself. “Whatever am I to do now?”

Ten minutes later, after a hurried survey of the area, she hadn’t yet answered this question to her own satisfaction. The only way for her to follow Growser was either to try to climb over the wall in her cumbersome habit or to ride boldly up to the gate and inquire for her cousin. Neither seemed attractive to her at the moment. She was, in fact, wishing she had remained quietly at home while Derek Wincannon and his groom followed Growser across the countryside.

Providence did not intervene, and at last, she straightened her shoulders and started for the gate. Having ridden all this way, she had to carry through. When, or if, the gatekeeper disavowed all knowledge of Tony, she would turn and go home, leaving Growser to fend for himself as he had left her.

Elisabeth rode smartly up to the gate and looked about her. The intricate wrought-iron panels stood open, and she could see some rust here and there. The lodge was a little distance up the avenue, nearly hidden behind a dense screen of currant bushes and weeds. Like the drive, it was not well kept up; clearly, the park grounds had not enjoyed the attentions of a gardener for some years. “It looks rather like Willowmere,” said Elisabeth meditatively, “though not quite so dilapidated.” She rode over to the lodge and rapped on the door with her riding crop, steeling herself for an encounter with the gatekeeper.

There was no answer to her knock, nor to the second or the third. Elisabeth was forced to conclude that no one was home. She leaned down and hesitantly peered through the dirty window of the house. At first, she could see nothing, but when she had rubbed a clean spot on the glass, she realized that the room beyond was empty. The house was disused. “Well, that is anticlimactic,” she said, speaking aloud to herself again. “I wonder if Growser has led me to an abandoned estate. Perhaps he has only run off after a rabbit.” She guided her horse back to the middle of the avenue and sat still for a moment, then, with a shrug, she started up the drive.

It led her on a winding progress of at least a mile, through a heavily wooded park much overgrown with underbrush. The afternoon sun was disappearing under thick clouds, and it was dark under the trees; Elisabeth increased her pace a bit. Finally, she saw a house ahead, and the lights visible in some of the windows reassured her. “At least it isn’t abandoned,” she said, and urged her mare on. The drive curved about in front of the house and continued on behind. There was no block to be seen, so Elisabeth slid from her horse near the door. The stiffness of her muscles was even more obvious as she walked up to it.

She hesitated only a minute before knocking; she was, after all, committed now. This time, her first attempt brought an immediate answer. A young housemaid opened the door and looked at her with some astonishment. “Good evening,” said Elisabeth, with all the assurance she could muster. “I am here to see my cousin, Anthony Brinmore.” She was rather pleased with this statement. It expressed so much more confidence than she felt.

“Mr. Brinmore?” replied the maid. “Oh, yes, miss. Please to come in.”

“Y-you mean, he is here?” Elisabeth’s surprise overcame her poise.

The maid blinked. She looked at Elisabeth warily.

“I wasn’t certain I’d found the house,” added Elisabeth hastily, trying to recover her original tone. She stepped into the hall. “Will you tell him, please, that his cousin Elisabeth has arrived? And can someone see to my horse?”

The housemaid nodded silently and shut the door. She indicated that Elisabeth should enter a room off the front hall, and when she had seen her do so, disappeared.

Elisabeth walked into a small saloon papered and hung in dark green satin. There was no fire and no candles had been lighted, though the afternoon sun hardly penetrated through the heavily draped eastern windows, and the room was a little dark. But she sank down gratefully on the sofa in front of the fireplace, wearily rubbing the muscles of her neck and shoulders. She sat thus for at least ten minutes, surveying the old-fashioned furniture and murky pictures that dotted the walls. She was becoming impatient when she heard a noise from the doorway and turned to find a very odd-looking gentleman confronting her.

In her surprise, Elisabeth said nothing at first, and the man was also silent. It was not so much his appearance that was unusual. He was a slight person of medium height and about sixty years of age, she thought. But his dress was such as must catch the eye and amaze. He looked like an historical portrait. His full-skirted coat was of satin and liberally embroidered. There were cascades of lace at his wrists and throat, and he wore knee britches and white silk stockings ornamented with clocks. His shoes had three-inch red heels and ornate buckles that seemed to Elisabeth to be made of diamonds. She was still blinking at this vision when he pulled an enameled snuffbox from his coat pocket, flipped it open with one thumb, and said, “Good evening.”

“G-good, evening,” replied Elisabeth. “I…I am sorry to arrive at an inconvenient hour, but Tony gave us very little idea of how far he might be from London.”

The man raised his eyebrows. “Indeed. I am told you are Mr. Brinmore’s cousin, Elisabeth, ah, Brinmore?”

“Elisabeth Elham, sir.” She was beginning to resent his tone. “And I am told that my cousin is here? May I see him, please?”

“In a moment. Young Tony arrived here in rather odd circumstances, you see. I remain somewhat puzzled. Shall we sit down?” He motioned her back to the sofa and sat down beside her.

Elisabeth sat very straight and lifted her chin. “What do you mean, odd circumstances?” she asked. “And why can I not see Tony? Is he worse?”

“Worse?” answered her companion, looking at her closely.

Elisabeth was too tired for such sparring. “I believe you heard me. My cousin said in his note to me that he had been wounded but was recovering. I wish to see him immediately.”

The man held up a hand. “I understand your anxiety,” he replied. “But you must understand that Tony has been in some sort of danger, and I don’t wish to see him harmed in my house. I must be sure you are indeed his cousin.” His brown eyes remained hard. “Why do you arrive alone and without warning?” he continued, surveying her critically.

Elisabeth leaned back on the sofa with an angry sigh. “Because I’m a fool,” she said. “As is Tony. He neglected to give us his direction, and I followed his wretched dog here.” At the gentleman’s uncomprehending look, she explained the events of the last few days to him. By the time she’d finished, he was looking less forbidding.

He smiled slightly. “I must say, had I not become somewhat acquainted with Tony in the last several days, I would dismiss your story as nonsense. But having done so, it sounds remarkably likely. You and your cousin have much in common.”

“I sincerely hope not,” answered Elisabeth fervently.

This time, the man’s smile was warm. “Come,” he went on, “I will take you to Tony.” He rose and waited for her.

Elisabeth had nearly forgotten his strange costume as they talked, but now she was made aware of it again. Why, she wondered, did he dress in this outmoded way? No one had worn such clothes for thirty years, at least.

As they started up the stairs in the hall, the man spoke again. “I should introduce myself. You must think me abominably rude. I am Lucius Aldgate, and this is my house, Steen. Belatedly, I make you welcome.”

Elisabeth smiled. “Thank you,” she said, “that is reassuring. But I could not think anyone rude who took such care of Tony as I fancy you have. I’m very eager to hear what happened.”

Mr. Aldgate nodded. “We must give your cousin his part in the telling, however. He would never forgive me else.”

They had by now reached the second floor, and her host turned into a bedchamber on the left. A fire was burning there, and it looked very cozy. In a huge four-poster bed against the far wall lay Tony, his face a little white. His shoulder was bound up, and the nightshirt he wore was uncharacteristically ornate, but otherwise he appeared all right. He looked up when they entered. “Cousin Elisabeth,” he cried. “I hoped you would come.”

Elisabeth walked over to the bed and embraced him gently. Then, she stepped back. “Did you indeed?” she asked, smiling. “I might have come sooner had you put your direction in the note, you graceless scamp.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “Did I not? I can’t precisely recollect what I did say, but I must have told you where I was and how kind Mr. Aldgate had been.”

Elisabeth shook her head, her eyes twinkling. “You did not.”

“Tony was burnt to the socket when we found him,” put in their host. “I was amazed he could write at all.”

At this, Elisabeth’s expression sobered. “And where was he found?” she asked. “There is a great deal I want to know about what has happened.” She looked at both of them with raised eyebrows.

“Will you begin, Tony?” said Aldgate.

Nodding, the boy said, “Yes, I suppose I must. I believe now that it began when I met an animal trainer in London who promised he could teach Growser all manner of things.”

“Growser!” interrupted Elisabeth suddenly. “Has someone found him?”

Tony looked surprised; he shook his head sorrowfully. “No,” he said. “He’s been gone for days now. Mr. Aldgate’s servants have searched everywhere.”

“No, no. He came with me. He must be here somewhere.”

“What!” Tony sat up suddenly, then winced and sank back on the pillows. “What are you talking about?” he went on more quietly.

Elisabeth told the story of her journey once more. Tony was delighted and full of admiration for his dog. “I knew he was a prime ’un,” he said as she finished. “What other animal could have led you here in such a way? We must find him.”

“He must be somewhere in the park,” said Elisabeth, looking to Mr. Aldgate. “He jumped over the wall where it is broken down.”

Aldgate went to the bellpull and summoned his valet. “We’ll find him directly.”

Elisabeth sat down in a chair beside the bed. Her fatigue was catching up with her. “Now,” she said, “you may continue with your story.”

Tony nodded. “Well, as I said, the trainer, Gibbs, convinced me that he could teach Growser to hunt. I see now that he never meant to do any such thing, but he did teach him to sit on command.” Tony looked at them defensively, but Elisabeth only nodded, smiling slightly. “At any rate,” the boy continued, “we had some talks about it and finally agreed to meet at the house of a friend of Gibbs’s outside the city. He said he needed a large space for proper training. I went out there one afternoon, expecting to return early, but when I arrived Gibbs and his friend offered me a glass of ale to cut the dust of the journey. I drank it, and the next thing I knew I was in a dark room, trussed up like a chicken, and feeling sick and dizzy.”

“They drugged you!” exclaimed Elisabeth.

Tony nodded, and Mr. Aldgate said, “It seems so indeed.”

“This is outrageous. They must be caught and punished. To think we had that trainer in our hands and let him slip away.”

“Did you?” said Tony interestedly. “You were on my trail, then?”

“We and all our friends have been searching for you for days,” replied Elisabeth. “What did you think we would do?”

“I knew you’d try to find me,” answered Tony seriously. “Indeed, that was my first thought when I awoke in the darkness, and it kept up my hopes throughout the whole adventure.”

“Did you see your captors?” asked Elisabeth eagerly.

Tony shook his head. “Never. A maid brought me food and helped me eat, but she was always very frightened and obviously knew nothing of their plans. She would hardly talk to me and told me nothing of them, though I asked at every opportunity.”

“So we still don’t know why they kidnapped you;” said Elisabeth slowly, tapping the bedside table with one finger and staring meditatively across the room.

“Ransom?” suggested Mr. Aldgate.

She turned to him. “Perhaps. But I received no such request; I heard nothing, in fact.”

“Revenge?” added Aldgate more tentatively. “For some imagined wrong?”

Elisabeth shrugged and looked to Tony, torn between amusement and concern.

Tony snorted derisively. “A fellow would have to have quite an imagination to think I’d wronged him. I haven’t quarreled with anyone in London.”

Elisabeth shrugged again. “So it remains a mystery. But tell me how you came here, Tony. Did Mr. Aldgate rescue you?”

Tony looked outraged. “Of course he didn’t. I escaped.” He paused dramatically, waiting for Elisabeth’s reaction.

“Did you indeed?” she said appreciatively. “How did you manage it?”

Her cousin’s eyes sparkled. “Well, they kept me in an upstairs room, you know. But after a few days, they had the ropes removed. Didn’t think I could go anywhere.” He looked scornful. “So, I watched the yard below my window and learned the household’s schedule while I worked loose one of the bars.” He paused. “They were very old. Why do you suppose bars were put on upstairs windows?” Neither of his listeners appeared ready to answer this question, so he continued. “I could see Growser; they had him tied in the yard. And very unhappy he was about it. He howled the day long. Finally, I got one bar free, and that night, I skinned out and jumped for it. Twisted my ankle a bit, but not so that I couldn’t walk. I untied Growser, and we legged it for the road, but they had a man on watch at the gate. I didn’t expect that, hadn’t seen him before. He’s the one who shot me. But we kept running, and I stumbled onto Mr. Aldgate’s land where he found me the next day and kindly took me in. Growser had gone. Back to London, I guess.” Tony looked very proud at this idea.

Elisabeth turned to Mr. Aldgate, frowning. “The house where he was kept must be very close then,” she said.

“Oh, yes,” replied her host. “I believe we’ve found the house. It only remains for Tony to confirm it when he can get about again. But it’s quite deserted, of course. They left when Tony escaped.”

“But we can inquire…” began Elisabeth.

Mr. Aldgate inclined his head. “I have done so. The house was rented two months ago to a Mr. Smith from Bristol.”

“Oh.” She looked down. “There is no possibility of tracing them, I suppose.”

“I fear not.”

“Perhaps Growser could find them,” put in Tony. “He found me, after all.”

Elisabeth smiled at him. Mr. Aldgate rose. “I’ll inquire about Growser,” he said. “I hope he is found. And I’ll have a chamber prepared for you, Miss Elham. You will stay with us, I hope?” Elisabeth nodded. “And perhaps you would like to dine here with your cousin? I will give the orders.” He nodded to them and went out.

Left alone with her cousin for the first time, Elisabeth turned to him. “I’m truly glad to have found you again, you know, Tony,” she said. “Thank God you’re all right.”

“Thank Mr. Aldgate, rather,” answered Tony irreverently. “I don’t mind telling you I was run off my legs when he came upon me. He’s been truly good to me.”

Elisabeth nodded. “I’m grateful to him indeed. Why does he wear such strange clothing? Do you know?”

Tony frowned for a moment, then his brow cleared. “You know I’ve become so used to them, I forgot how odd they must look to you. But I don’t know why he wears them. Likes ’em, I suppose.” The topic didn’t seem to interest him much. “I wonder if they’ve found Growser yet.”

“If they’ve searched near the kitchens,” replied Elisabeth drily, “I wager they have.”

Tony laughed. “I daresay you’re right. It’s good to see you, Cousin Elisabeth. I’ve had no one to laugh with for ages.”

There was a light tap on the door, and a middle-aged woman entered. “Hello, miss,” she said, curtsying slightly. “I am Mrs. Deal, the housekeeper. I’ll show you to your chamber when you’re ready.”

Elisabeth rose. “Oh, thank you. I should love to wash and get tidy again. Tony, I’ll see you later.”

“Mind you hurry,” was her cousin’s only reply. “I’m devilish hungry.”