Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty-One
Isabel woke with a start. She lay awake, her senses at attention, straining her ears, but heard only silence, punctuated by the distant tick of the grandfather clock that stood at the head of the stairs.
She breathed out and turned over, but even as sleep began to claim her, the unmistakable sound of scuffling and whispered voices in the corridor outside her room caused her to sit bolt upright.
She swung her feet off the bed and as she lit the night candle on her dressing table, the door burst open.
Freddy, holding Fanny by the arm, entered the room.
Isabel straightened. ‘How dare you!’ she began, but her bravado faltered when she saw the fear on Fanny’s face and the wild look in Freddy’s eyes.
Her hand went to the bell pull only to be stayed by the sight of a pistol in Freddy’s hand and another tucked into his waistband.
‘Don’t move, Lady Somerton.’
‘What is the meaning of this?’ she demanded, trying to keep her voice calm and controlled.
Freddy thrust Fanny down on the daybed.
‘He’s killed Sebastian,’ Fanny wailed.
Killed Sebastian?
Isabel made a dive for the door, but Freddy caught her by the arm and pulled her in towards him. She felt the cold muzzle of a pistol against her throat.
‘That’s far enough, Isabel.’ He flung her towards the daybed. ‘Sit.’
Isabel complied. Beside her, Fanny snivelled. Her lip trembled and a fresh spill of tears coursed down her face.
‘No one was meant to get hurt.’
Isabel turned to her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘It was that stupid saddle. If Sebastian had never found it, none of this would have happened,’ Fanny sniffed.
Isabel caught her breath. ‘The saddle? Anthony’s saddle?’ She glanced up at Freddy. ‘Why? What did Sebastian find?’
Fanny’s voice rose to an almost hysterical pitch.
‘Anthony promised! He promised to make a generous settlement for Freddy and I, but then he laughed and said he’d never made such a promise and that he would turn us out onto the street.
Freddy was so angry. Freddy didn’t mean to kill him.
When he cut the girth, Anthony was just supposed to fall and hurt himself. ’
‘What do you mean he cut the girth?’ Isabel looked from Fanny to Freddy.
‘Yes I cut the girth,’ Freddy said. ‘He was about to throw us out on to the street, expose us as blackmailers and imposters so I needed to remind him I was not to be trifled with. We need to get out of here. Fanny, pack a bag.’
‘But I was supposed to marry Sebastian. I was going to be Lady Somerton,’ Fanny protested. ‘You always spoil everything.’
Freddy moved to the window and said with a grunt of satisfaction, ‘The stables are well alight. He’ll be dead by now, and his brother with him. Your precious Sebastian is probably charcoal by now, Isabel.’
‘No,’ she murmured in disbelief.
Nausea rose in her throat as a golden glow lit the dark sky, casting the room into moving shadows. Freddy grasped her by the arm and propelled her to the window.
‘Take a look, Lady Somerton. I left dear Sebastian and his comrades trussed up like pigs on market day.’
Isabel stared at the golden-red blaze rising above the tree line. Sebastian … dead? She took the thought and pushed it to the back of her mind. Later, she would rail against the unnecessary death, but now she had her own foe to face, and she needed to keep her wits about her.
She looked back at Freddy. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘Sadly, I think the first thing is to depart this place and find somewhere a little more conducive to my health,’ Freddy said.
‘Where?’ Isabel asked.
‘Oh, probably the continent,’ Freddy said thoughtfully. ‘But, make no mistake, Lady Somerton, you’re coming with us. Get dressed. I have the coach downstairs. Oh, and do make sure you bring your jewels, Isabel—all of them.’
Isabel looked into Freddy’s eyes. There would be no reprieve, no mercy.
He had killed once, twice, if what he said about Sebastian was true, and he would so again.
The thought of Sebastian dead numbed her.
He’d been in her life so short a time, and yet now she couldn’t even begin to comprehend a world without him.
Freddy watched as she stuffed the contents of her jewel box into a soft bag, which he took from her.
She pulled on the gown, cloak and bonnet Fanny proffered and, with Freddy’s pistol in her back, they made their way silently down the stairs.
Fanny dashed for her bedroom, returning with a bandbox that clinked with the metallic ring of a number of metal objects roughly thrown in together.
As she descended the stairs in the dark, Isabel nearly fell over Peter Thompson.
The boy had been tied by his hands to the banisters with a dirty piece of cloth twisted around his mouth as a gag.
She kneeled down beside him and boy turned a tearstained face to her as she undid the cloth around his mouth.
‘Has he hurt you?’ Isabel asked.
The boy shook his head. ‘No, but he’s killed his lordship. Shut him in the chaff room and then set fire to a pile of straw by the door. It’s all my fault, my lady. I should never have kept that saddle,’ he wailed.
‘Nonsense, Peter—’ Isabel began but, before she could say anything more, Freddy hauled her up by the arm.
‘What about the boy?’ Fanny asked.
Freddy shook his head. ‘He’s served his purpose. Lady Somerton is a far more valuable hostage.’
Pausing only to replace Peter’s gag, Freddy hustled the women out of the house. The carriage, with Jenkins on the driving box, stood waiting by the front door. Freddy pushed Isabel inside, and the coach began to move off before the door had shut.