Chapter 48 Ashcroft Manor
Ashcroft Manor
The world stopped. Elizabeth couldn't think straight past the ringing in her ears.
“I’m sorry,” the footman said, twisting his hat. “Lady Charlotte sent me—”
“Are you certain…?”
“I’m here to take you home if you would like to say a prayer over their graves.”
Their graves.
“Please tell me this is some foul joke,” she whispered.
No. The word shouted in her mind even as her body went cold. Her father, who had always been a tall, unbending presence, couldn’t be—
She had just seen them, not even a few months ago, and they had been healthy and whole. There had to be some mistake.
The coachman offered her a handkerchief, looking concerned for her welfare.
Exhaling sharply, she gathered a few things and stuffed them into a trunk.
“Shall we, then?” she asked brusquely, offering a half-hearted attempt at a smile.
She refused to believe it and clung to the idea that this was some horrible joke.
It had to be.
***
Caspian was lounging in the sitting room, enjoying his evening goblet of lamb’s blood, when Fiza hurried in with Finnigan. The two of them were supposed to be tailing Elizabeth, ensuring she didn’t come to harm.
Fiza wrung her hands pathetically. “M-Master ... Lady Elizabeth has left the city.”
Finnigan stood beside Fiza and nodded solemnly, all the evidence he needed that whatever the water demon had to say might be worth his time.
“Go on,” he said.
“A manservant arrived at her door looking grave, wearing House Harrison’s colours. Lady Elizabeth left in his carriage soon after.”
Finnigan added, “I stole a horse and followed them out of the city and as far as I could without drawing attention. They are bound for the road south.”
Caspian stood abruptly.
“Master,” Finnigan cut in. “I can see well enough that she will not thank you for coming. And, if Raziel is after you, this could be a trap.”
“Nonsense.”
“Raziel doing something stupid to the girl, whom he thinks is your weakness, is not unfathomable. He must know that if he draws you away from the portal, it will be defenceless. What other reason could anyone possibly have to go after the girl’s family? She is nothing.”
Dismissing the possibility and overlooking Finnigan’s insolence, Caspian snapped his attention to the water demon. “Get me Asmodeus.”
“But Master—”
“Now, or I will show you how ruthless I can really be.”
The water demon nodded and turned on her heel, striding quickly out of the room. Soon after, Asmodeus came bustling along and plopped himself onto the sofa.
Asmodeus shrugged. “First of all, you don’t know what the footman said to her. It could be nothing. They might have gone to such lengths to tell her that her cat got sick or something. We might be jumping to conclusions.”
At his murderous expression, Asmodeus sighed heavily. “It’s up to you, brother. If it’s something serious, she might appreciate the shoulder to cry on, but she might not appreciate the intrusion. Especially as she will definitely realize you’ve been having her followed.”
“Would you blame me? To make sure she is alright? To protect her if something bad happens?”
Asmodeus bowed his head. “It is not my position to question your orders or actions. I acknowledge your position in the household to be above mine.” The words struck the binding cord between them. Softly, and in a more serious tone, Asmodeus met his eyes and added, “I will follow wherever you go.”
The words were thick with things left unsaid. Asmodeus had always stood by his side after Caspian had offered to take him in when he lost all his powers. The sap.
He did not deserve such loyalty.
***
Elizabeth sat in a carriage bound for Briarton.
The sun was shining brightly overhead, and they passed through rolling hills covered in wildflowers—a glorious morning that was utterly lost on her.
Her mood was somber, and she felt at odds passing through the pleasant countryside in the Harrison family carriage.
She remained mute for the entire journey south. If the manservant was alarmed at her lack of emotion, he did not show it. Elizabeth smiled woodenly and tried to be pleasant. It wasn’t that she wasn’t sad; it was that she was unable to process anything at all and felt numb.
She was still convinced she would arrive to find this had all been a big misunderstanding, and her mother would smile and tell her not to worry.
Suddenly, she recognized the road they were on, and her heart leapt into her throat.
She had walked these roads hundreds of times, on her own two feet and on horseback. Her heart sped up as they proceeded down the lane that led to the Ashcroft Manor.
“Stop the carriage.”
Roaring filled her ears, and she flung open the carriage door while it was still moving.
“I said STOP.”
The manservant warily slowed the carriage to a halt. She jumped out of the carriage, stumbling and falling onto all fours.
“Lady, we are nearly there—” The words were lost in the wind as she had already started sprinting towards the manor.
The window beside the door was smashed open.
Her heart sank.
The last feeble hope came crumbling down as she sprinted towards the manor, as if getting there a few seconds earlier would change the outcome.
Reaching the heavy oak doors, she hesitated, her knuckles resting just a hair’s breadth above the wood.
Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for what she was about to find and banged several times.
There was no answer. She knocked again. Where was the housekeeper?
To her surprise, the handle turned easily, and the door creaked open. It had been left unlocked.
The entrance hall was empty. All the servants had been cleared out, and it was with a great sense of trepidation that she took a few steps into the entrance hall.
It looked identical to when she had last seen it.
She sniffed. The hall smelled of a pungent cleaning solution.
Sniffing again, she noted that the sharp-smelling cleaning solution had been used all over the marble floor.
Why did they have to clean the floor?
Bile rose in her throat.
Tearing through the house, Elizabeth was desperate for some sign they’d escaped. Every room looked untouched—pristine.
Charlotte, she realized.
Charlotte had restored everything, trying to spare her the sight of—Don’t think about that.
Her father had to have left a clue somewhere, some inkling that this was all a misunderstanding. He had to have left her a note telling her exactly where she could find them—happy and well—a few cities over.
They had no enemies. It didn’t make sense that anyone would want to harm them.
She thought she saw something—a shadow lingering around a corner and sprinted towards it.
There! Hope flared in her chest. They were hiding, of course, they were hiding, waiting for her to—
“Mother!”
A hand grabbed her arm.
Gasping, she spun around. Panic gripped her, and her eyes flew wide.
Looking down, she saw the manservant had grabbed her arm. He had scared her half to death.
“Lady Elizabeth, my apologies. I did not want you to slip.” He gestured at the floor, where it looked slick. “There’s water on the floor.”
Elizabeth swallowed. “Ah, right. Thank you.”
The floor was slippery in spots, but they made their way around the corner. They must have just cleaned the floors before they arrived. She stepped across the polished marble, searching for the source of the shadows.
Spotting an intricate candelabra, she sighed, feeling foolish. The candelabra was oddly shaped and must have cast a strange shadow that looked almost like a person from where she had been standing. She was being paranoid.
She brought a hand to her chest and looked at the servant apologetically. “Sorry, my mistake. I was sure I saw a shadow move,” she said, looking down. “I was sure it was them. Just hiding. You know?”
The look she received was so pitiful it hurt her heart.
“Lady Elizabeth … I am to bring you to Harrison Manor after you’ve paid your respects,” the manservant said hesitantly.
She had to try to speak twice before any sound came out of her lips.
“How?” Her voice was choked, clipped.
He hesitated. It had to be bad if he hesitated. “Do you really want to know?”
“I think I have to.”
The manservant sighed. “Come with me.”
He led her to the gardens, to the far corner of her family’s fields—where her grandparents were buried. A tombstone was set in a fresh mound of dirt, darker than the rest of the soil. It read:
Here lie Lord William Ashcroft and his beloved wife, Lady Catlyn Ashcroft.
Lord, Husband, Father, Friend.
Respected and beloved.
Her eyes burned.
“How?”
The servant looked at her with so much kindness in his face, so much sympathy, that she hated him for it. “There were signs of a struggle. They were found in the living room, your father with his chest stabbed, and your mother with her throat cut.”
“Oh.” Her heart plummeted. That would have been difficult to fake.
Her last hope crumbled to dust.
“But why? Who? They had no enemies,” she asked, almost pleadingly.
“Several of your parents’ guards and servants were found slain in the manor and on the grounds. Any survivors who lived, are the ones who ran to get help. No one has been able to identify the intruders or give them a name. And any who saw them are—no longer with us to tell the tale.”
She pressed her lips together and stared at the graves of her parents.
It all felt surreal, like she was about to wake up at any moment and find out it had all been a bad dream.
“Please send word to Charlotte that I would like to stay longer. Thank you for bringing me here and for explaining. Your presence is no longer required.”
“Lady Elizabeth, Lady Charlotte said I was to stay with you. She was to arrive in Briarton sometime today to meet you and bring you back to Harrison Manor.”
“Then please go to Briarton and tell Lady Charlotte I will see her tomorrow.”
The manservant looked at her, his brows raised in displeasure, but hesitant to argue with a noble.