The Scarlet Gown Read online

  Armed with this information, and the footman’s assurance that she could not miss her way, Lucy set off. The gate was in fact wide enough for a horse and she guessed the path through the trees had originally been intended as a ride. However, the undergrowth now encroached upon it and the trees grew unchecked, their branches almost meeting overhead. She was glad of her shawl for the morning shade was cool. The trees ended where the ride joined an ancient track that curved away around the belt of woodland in one direction and in the other it stretched out before her, winding down across a picturesque stone bridge and cutting through the distant moors.

  She walked on and crossed what she guessed to be Hobart’s Bridge, pausing to look over the side at the fast-flowing little stream that tumbled over its rocky bed. Lucy followed the track, striding out briskly beneath the cloudless blue vault of sky. The path ran around a natural ridge in the moor, the land falling away to gorse bushes and the stream on one side while rugged slopes covered with rough grass and heather rose up on the other.

  As the path wound onwards the views of Adversane were left behind and the dramatic landscape of hills and steep-sided valleys unfolded before her. She stopped several times, taking in the view and thinking how much her father would have loved to paint such scenery. She had captured some of it in her own sketchbook, but everywhere she looked there was another vista. So many views, she knew she would not be able to sketch them all before the house party was over and her employment at Adversane was ended.

  She rounded a bend to find the ground ahead rising steeply and suddenly there was Druids Rock soaring above her. There could be no mistaking it, for it towered over the path at this point, dark and brooding, even in the sunshine. The old track ran to the south of the rock and continued down into the wooded valley below, which she guessed was the way to Ingleston, but Lucy chose a narrow path winding up through the heather. As she drew closer to Druids Rock she could see it was not one solid piece but a jumble of huge stones, pushed together as if by some giant hand. The southern face reared up like a cliff, but the northern side swept upwards in a gentle slope, easily ascended. Lucy did not hesitate. She walked up to the top of the ramp and stood there, revelling in the feel of the fresh breeze on her skin. It was like standing on top of the world.

  Behind her, the natural rise of the moors blocked her view of the track and only the chimneys of Adversane were visible. Looking south, with the sheer drop at her feet, the valley opened up and beyond the belt of trees directly below her she could see the town of Ingleston nestling between the hills. Leading from it was the white ribbon of road that she had ridden with Ralph yesterday.

  Lucy sat down on the edge of the rock, enjoying the peace and solitude. Below her, a few wagons and horses were moving silently along the road while the surrounding land below the moors looked green and well-tended, a network of tidy walls and neat farmsteads. Most of it, she knew, belonged to Adversane. Ralph. It was a good spot from which to see the extent of his domain, but she understood why he did not come here, if his wife had fallen from this very rock. Glancing down, she remembered Ruthie’s incautious words. Helene had come here in her evening dress. Had she really been so unhappy that she—?

  No. She would not speculate. That would be a despicable thing to do. She scrambled to her feet and left her high perch. She would go back to the house and ask Mrs Dean what exactly had happened. She regained the track and set off back the way she had come. She had not gone far when she heard the thunder of hooves. Looking around, she saw the dark figure of Adversane cantering towards her. Lucy stopped and waited while he brought his horse to a plunging halt beside her.

  ‘Was it you, on top of the rock?’

  He barked out the words, a thunderous scowl blackening his countenance.

  ‘Yes.’ She fought down the urge to shrink away or apologise. ‘It was such a lovely morning I wanted to explore.’

  ‘Explore! Don’t you know how dangerous those rocks can be?’

  She replied calmly, ‘I am sure in the wet they are extremely treacherous, but the ground is dry, and my shoes are not at all slippery.’ She twitched aside her skirts to show him the sturdy half-boots she was wearing.

  He glared down at her, and Lucy waited for the furious tirade that she felt sure he wanted to utter. After a moment’s taut silence she said quietly, ‘I am very sorry if I alarmed you.’

  She thought she might have imagined his growl as her apology robbed him of the excuse to harangue her. He jumped down and by tacit consent they began to walk, with Jupiter following behind them.

  ‘I saw someone on the rocks and thought it was you. I came up to make sure you were safe.’

  ‘That was very considerate, sir, when I know you do not normally use this track. Is that because of what happened to your wife here?’

  He threw a swift, hard glance at her.

  ‘Who told you? What have you heard about that?’

  ‘My maid said Lady Adversane fell to her death from the rock.’ She added quickly, ‘Please do not blame Ruthie. If she had not told me I should have asked Mrs Dean.’

  ‘I am surprised you were not told I’d killed her.’

  Lucy stopped in her tracks. He gave a harsh laugh.

  ‘Oh, not literally. I was at the house when she fell, but it was known she was not happy.’

  ‘You mean they think she killed herself.’ Lucy’s parents had often deplored her blunt speaking and she glanced a little uncertainly at Lord Adversane, but he did not appear shocked so she continued. ‘Would she have done such a thing?’

  ‘I do not think so, but—’

  Lucy put out her hand to him. ‘If she did take her own life, you must not blame yourself, sir.’

  He was looking down at her fingers where they rested on his sleeve. Gently, she withdrew them. It had been an impulsive gesture, but he was, after all, almost a stranger. They began to walk on again and despite a little awkwardness Lucy did not want to let the moment pass.

  ‘Will you tell me?’ she asked him. ‘Will you explain what happened the night she died?’ When he did not reply immediately she added, ‘I beg your pardon. I have no right to ask—’

  ‘But you want to know, don’t you? If I will not speak of it then you will find out from someone else.’

  She could not lie.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then it is best you hear it from me. Helene walked here a great deal. Her father, Sir James, is—calls himself—a druid. Have you heard of The Ancient Order of the Druids, Miss Halbrook? Not so ancient, in fact. They were founded about five-and-twenty years ago by a man named Hurle and they are an offshoot of an older order, which Hurle considered too profane. They have their own beliefs and rituals, many based on nature and astrology. And of course they believe there is a link with the ancient standing stones.’ His lip curled. ‘There are no such stones at Adversane, but we do have Druids Rock. The name of the place goes back generations. No one seems to know why it was called thus, but certainly there have been no druidic rituals here in my lifetime, or my father’s. When Preston learned that Druids Rock was on my land he was even more eager for me to become his son-in-law. Even before the marriage had taken place he began to come to Adversane regularly to visit the rock. As did Helene during that last spring and summer when we were living at Adversane. She even went there in the dark, ostensibly to watch the sunrise.’

  ‘Ostensibly? You did not believe it?’ Lucy closed her lips. That was not the sort of thing one asked a man about his wife.

  ‘I did not question her beliefs,’ he said shortly. ‘But I did insist that she never went there unaccompanied. She agreed always to take her maid with her, and I was content with that.’ A faint, derisive smile curled his lip. ‘The locals fear the place is haunted by fairies and hobgoblins, but I never heard that they injured anyone. If she wanted to get up before dawn to go there I would not forbid it.

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p; ‘That is what she is thought to have been doing on Midsummer’s Eve. It is thought to be the reason she was still wearing her evening gown.’

  ‘Why did you not come with her?’

  ‘I have no time for superstition, Miss Halbrook.’

  ‘But what about romance?’ Those dark brows rose and she blushed. ‘Some would think it romantic to watch the dawn together.’

  ‘That would be as nonsensical as my wife’s druidical beliefs.’ His hard look challenged Lucy to contradict him, and when she said nothing he continued. ‘She was not missed until just before breakfast time, when her maid realised she had not gone to bed. I organised search parties, but it did not take long to find her. Druids Rock was the first place we looked.’

  ‘How dreadful for you.’

  ‘Not only for me, but for everyone who was staying at Adversane.’

  ‘And yet, you have invited the same people to join you here again?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you have invited the players to come in, just as they did the night she—the night Helene died.’

  ‘The Midsummer’s Eve play is a tradition, Miss Halbrook. It goes back generations, far beyond the tragedy of my wife’s death. It is not logical that it should cease because of one tragic event.’

  ‘But surely—’

  He stopped her, saying impatiently, ‘Enough of this. We will talk of something else, if you please, or continue in silence.’

  * * *

  She chose silence, and Ralph found himself regretting it. She might infuriate him with her incessant questions but she was only voicing what others would think. It was as well that he had the answers ready. He acknowledged to himself that he had been misled by her appearance. In Mrs Killinghurst’s office, she had looked positively drab in the enveloping grey gown and quite demure. If he had known she would show such spirit he would never have employed her. A faint smile began inside him. He should be honest with himself. He did know, from that very first encounter in the alley.

  He had deliberately positioned himself at the door of Mrs Killinghurst’s office so that he could observe the candidate for this post and he had seen Miss Lucy Halbrook walking towards him. He had noted the slight hesitation as she found her way blocked, then the way her head had come up as she approached him, determined not to be intimidated.

  Yes, he knew from that first moment that she was not one to accept his demands without question. He should have told Mrs Killinghurst to send her away, to find someone more biddable. Even as the thought formed he realised that after Lucy Halbrook, anyone else would seem very dull indeed.

  * * *

  Lucy hardly noticed the continuing silence. Her mind was too full of what she had heard to make idle conversation. Lord Adversane was lost in his own thoughts and did not appear to object so she occupied herself with studying her surroundings, the rough grass and darker patches of heather, the view of the distant hills. Everything was new and interesting. Suddenly a swathe of white caught her eye, a shifting, snowy carpet nestling in a wide, flat depression a short distance from their path.

  ‘Oh, how pretty. What is it?’

  ‘Cotton grass.’ He strode across to the dip and picked a handful of the fluffy, nodding heads. ‘It grows on boggy ground. It can be used to stuff pillows, though it is not as good as goosedown.’

  ‘It looks very fine,’ she observed.

  ‘It is. Feel it.’

  The breath caught in her throat as he brushed the white heads against her cheek. The touch was gentle, as light as thistledown, but it sent a thrill running through her body. She became shockingly aware of the man standing beside her. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to connect herself to his rugged strength. It was an immense struggle to compose herself and respond calmly.

  ‘It, um, it is as soft as silk.’

  He held her eyes for a moment, a look she could not interpret in his own, then he turned away.

  ‘Unfortunately the strands are too short to be spun into thread.’

  A faint disappointment flickered through her as he cast aside the grasses and began to walk on.

  Did you expect him to present them to you like some lovesick swain?

  With a mental shrug, she fell into step beside him again, walking on in silence until they had crossed Hobart’s Bridge and were approaching the belt of trees that separated the moors from Adversane Hall.

  ‘Does that way lead to the Hall, too?’ she asked, pointing to the old track where it disappeared around the trees.

  ‘Yes. It leads to the main gates, but it will be quicker if we go through the old ride.’

  ‘Is that what it is called? I came out that way,’ said Lucy. ‘I suppose Lady Adversane rode through it when she went to Druids Rock.’

  ‘No, my wife was a nervous rider and preferred to walk. I never come this way.’

  She looked up at the overhanging branches.

  ‘And you have not had many guests since the accident, so consequently it is much overgrown.’

  ‘You are right. The only people to use it now are the servants, if they are walking to Ingleston.’

  ‘But it is such a delightful route, my lord. It seems such a shame that one cannot ride this way any more.’

  ‘It is a loss I can bear.’

  They had reached the gate leading into the grounds of the house. Ralph was about to open it, but Lucy was before him, lifting the latch and walking through, as if declaring her independence. He found himself smiling as he watched her. She was a strange mix, quiet and a little shy, yet not afraid to challenge him, and not at all cowed by his sharp retorts. He had not spoken to anyone of Helene’s death for so long that it had been a relief to talk of it, so much so that he had had to stop himself from confiding his suspicions. But he could not do that, he was playing far too dangerous a game to involve anyone else. If he was wrong then innocent names would be mired by suspicion. It was his plan and he would share it with no one. He alone would take the credit for it. Or the blame.

  Ralph guided Jupiter through the gate and closed it firmly behind him. Lucy was waiting for him. The wind had sprung up and she was busy trying to untangle her shawl.

  ‘Here, let me.’ He dropped Jupiter’s reins so that he could use both hands to take the shawl and drape it around her shoulders.

  ‘Thank you. There are rainclouds on the horizon. I am glad we are back in time to avoid a soaking.’

  She was laughing, completely unaware of how pretty she looked, her windswept curls rioting around her bare head and her skin glowing from the fresh air.

  Kiss her.

  She was knotting the ends of her shawl, oblivious of his hands hovering over her shoulders. He snatched his hands away as she turned her head to address him.

  ‘What say you, my lord, will it last? Shall we be confined indoors by the inclement weather?’

  She was peeping up at him through her lashes and he felt his blood stirring. It was unconsciously done, he would swear to it, but by God that look was damned inviting! With a silent oath he tore his eyes away from her. She was here for a purpose and he would not allow himself to be distracted.

  ‘There is rain on the way, certainly.’ He picked up Jupiter’s reins. ‘You can see the house from here, so there is no reason for me to come farther with you.’

  Without another word, he threw himself into the saddle and dug his heels into the horse’s flanks. Soon they were flying across the park, and he had to concentrate to keep the big hunter steady. As Jupiter settled into his stride Ralph found the unwelcome feelings were receding. It was the novelty of having a young woman in the house, that was all.

  Since Helene’s death he had thrown himself into his work on the estate and shunned female society. He saw now that it had been a mistake. If he had not been so reclusive he would not now find himself so desirous of Lu
cy Halbrook’s company, and he would not be so quickly aroused when they were together. After all, she was no beauty. It was her resemblance to Helene that had persuaded him to employ her, but the longer she was here the less he could see any similarity. Damnation, had he been mistaken? No, Adam had seen the likeness, he was certain of that.

  ‘She will have to do,’ he muttered as he bent low over Jupiter’s glossy black neck. ‘Only another couple of weeks and it will be finished. She will leave Adversane and I need never see her again. All I require of Lucy Halbrook until then is that she plays her part.’

  Chapter Six

  ‘Well, was there ever anyone so rude?’

  Lucy watched Ralph gallop off across the park. She had thought they were getting on well. They had talked quite freely during their walk, which had gone a long way to allowing her to put aside some of her own reserve, but now he had rebuffed her. Lucy tried to be angry, but honesty compelled her to admit that she was more wounded by his abrupt departure.

  ‘But why should he walk you back?’ she asked herself as she turned her steps towards the house. ‘If he was truly your fiancé it would be a different matter. You would have every excuse to feel aggrieved. As it is, he is paying you very well and that should be sufficient. Surely you do not want to spend more time with such a difficult man.’

  She thought back to what he had told her about his late wife. Ariadne thought them a devoted couple, but Lucy was sceptical. Ralph himself had admitted Helene was not happy and she had detected no sign of affection in his manner when he talked about his wife. She stopped and uttered her thoughts to the open air.

  ‘But if that is the case, why does he want me to look like Helene?’

  She fixed her eyes on the darkening sky, as if the black clouds might give her an answer. The only response was a fat raindrop that splashed on her nose. She hurried on, reaching the house just as the heavens opened.

  * * *

  The heavy rain continued for the rest of the day, making the sky so dark that when Lucy went down to the drawing room before dinner she found that Ariadne had ordered the candles to be lit.