“I looked in on his lordship earlier this evening. He was sound asleep. There was no candle burning in here at that time. I brought one in with me, and used it to see my way out. Has anyone else been in here this evening?”
“Until we were engaged in extinguishing the fire, no sir. I should say, no member of the staff entered this room since his lordship called for you, Captain Edward. But by that time, his lordship was rather determined to find you on his own.”
“And the Banes?”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t say, sir-not just at this moment.”
I knew he would discreetly question the Banes’s servants. After a moment’s silence, I said, “I will speak plainly to you, Bogsley. I am concerned for his lordship’s safety.”
“Understandably so, sir.”
“I will do my best to resolve this matter as soon as possible. In the meantime-”
“You may rely on me, sir-indeed, on all of us.”
“For which I’m grateful. Please have a truckle-bed placed in my room until we can make other arrangements. I need not add that I would prefer we do not alarm his lordship with our concern.”
I thanked him again and fetched my nephew from the kitchen, where he was, as usual, being cosseted past redemption.
Charles, pleased that we would be sharing a room, nevertheless protested my plan to place him in my bed, while I slept on the truckle-bed.
“But Charles,” I said, “there are no bed-curtains on the truckle-bed, and as you can see, there is a great deal of moonlight tonight.”
He had no argument against this and thanked me politely before allowing me to tuck him in. “But keep the curtains open just a bit, if you please. Then I shall know you are here, keeping me safe.” So much, I thought, for hiding our concern.
I lay awake on the truckle-bed, listening to his breathing settle into the rhythms of sleep. My feet suddenly felt a little cold, and then I heard a voice whisper, “Well done, Master Quakeboots.”
I sat bolt upright. By the light of the moon I could make him out, a faint but definite image of my dead brother, sitting at the foot of my bed.
My heart pounding, I opened my mouth to let out a cry, but I was frozen with fright.
“Please don’t,” he said. “I frightened Charles so badly early this evening, I don’t think I can forgive myself if I do so again. I cannot tell you how awful it is, Edward, to become a specter of horror to those you love. It nearly puts me in sympathy with Aunt Sophia, parading about without her wig.”
I felt a giddy sensation, but stopped myself short of laughing aloud. “By God, it is you!” I whispered.
“Lord Shivershanks, at your service.” He gave his familiar little bow.
“Oh, Lucien, how I’ve missed you already! How shall we contrive to get along without you? Whatever possessed you to ride so carelessly?”
He gave me a look as cold as the winter night. “My dear Edward, do not be a sapskull! Would I have endangered my life-to say nothing of the future of that precious boy sleeping next to you? Carelessly toss away my days with him? When have you ever known me to take foolish chances since his arrival?”
“Exactly my thoughts, Lucien, truly-”
“Yes, I heard you say so not long before I-well, I haven’t completely departed now, have I?”
“How good it is to be able to speak to you again! But-is it terrible for you?”
“Not in the least-well, no, that isn’t true. There are things that one longs for, and can never have in this state, so one certainly feels a desire to-to get on with it, shall we say? As much as I am loath to leave you-and I promise you, I did my best to stay-now I feel something like a traveler who has harnessed his horses, placed his trunks on the coach, and climbed within-but sits in his own drive.”
“Not-not unsure of his destination!”
He laughed, and said, “Hardly gratifying that you have doubts! But you may be at ease on that score. I’m quite curious about the place, but my departure has been delayed. I gather I have some unfinished business here, and it isn’t difficult to see what it is. First, we must find my murderer, for that person is threatening my son’s life, now that I am-supposedly-out of the way.”
“Your murderer!” I said blankly.
“My dear Edward, have you not been attending?”
“The branch-”
“Was off the tree before it struck my head.”
“But I saw the place on the tree where the branch had broken off. It was not cut clean, as it would have been if cut off the tree with an ax.”
“I’m not saying my murderer was stupid. I’m only saying that the branch was already broken off the tree before it was applied-with some force-to my head.”
“Then how-”
“I’m not sure of all the particulars, but I’ll tell you what I do know. Examine Fine Lad, if you would, please-why are you looking so pale? You aren’t going to faint on me, are you?”
“The horse-I almost had him shot.”
He studied me for a moment, then said, “If I could have found a way to leave you without grief, Edward, I would have.”
I could not speak.
“I take it the poor creature has not been sent to his equine reward?”
“No, I decided that I needed to think of Charles, and not of killing horses or felling trees.”
“Dependable Edward. I could not have left Charles in better hands. Still, what impressive vengeance you planned on my behalf! I’m touched, truly. Now-let us channel that determination toward saving my son.”
“Yes. Tell me more about what happened to you-and your horse.”
“I was about to slow him, knowing we were coming up to that tree, when something slowed him for me- rather abruptly. Without the least warning, Fine Lad-who is quite sure-footed-stumbled hard near that tree. I flew from his back, landing flat on my face, the wind knocked out of me-disgraceful, but please note that I was still holding fast to the reins. I slowly raised myself to my hands and knees-a bit unsteadily-when suddenly a cloaked figure stepped out and knocked me senseless with that blasted branch. Hurt like the very devil-briefly.”
“A cloaked figure?”
“I’m afraid he was off to one side-the better to swing that branch, I suppose. All I saw were a pair of men’s boots-rather expensive Hessians, if I’m any judge-and the front of a large, black cloak. I was struck down before I saw a face, but I’d lay odds my attacker was wearing a mask.”
I considered this, and said, “Can you travel from the Abbey grounds?”
“I’m not sure. I can move within the Abbey, and at least as far as where you were standing tonight. I’m rather new at this,” he added apologetically.
“Were you in Charles’s room when the fire started?”
“No, although-it’s the strangest thing, Edward. I was merely looking in on him, watching him sleep, when I felt this urgent need to appear to him, even though I knew it would scare him-as if it were so vital to awaken him, I could not remain hidden.”
“It was vital,” I said. “Had he not come to me in the library, he might have perished in that bed.”
“And Henry Bane would have become the Earl of Rolingbroke.”
“Yes. But it was William whose coat smelled of smoke and showed signs of being singed.”
“Hmm. How disappointing. William has actually spoken kindly to me once or twice in the past few years. But then, he needed to borrow money.” He sighed. “He’s not immediately in line for the title, but I suppose if two Rolingbrokes could be disposed of, Henry might have a short tenure as well.”
“Who are you talking to?” a child’s voice asked.
I looked in some dismay at Charles, peering at me sleepily from the bed. I glanced toward Lucien, but he had disappeared.
“Myself, Charles.”
“That’s a loud one,” he said, yawning.
“I beg your pardon?” I said, and thought I heard a ghostly chuckle near my ear.
