A Stranger at Castonbury

chapterr Eighteen

Jamie didn’t like the feeling of disquiet that came over him as he looked up at Alicia’s house. He wasn’t sure what had urged him to come here, but when Lily told him that Catalina had gone into town again something had told him he had to follow her.

And now he was glad he had. The guard he had set on the house that day had vanished. Everything seemed just as quiet and peaceful as ever on the street, yet he knew so well how deceiving appearances could be.

On the way out of Castonbury he had seen William Everett and asked the man to meet him there at Alicia’s house. He hadn’t arrived yet, but Jamie took his pistol and dagger and climbed down from the curricle. He silently went up the front steps and found the door ajar.

Every muscle in his body tensed and went on alert. He nudged the door open with his boot and slipped inside.

He listened closely for any hint of noise, any slight rustle of movement, but there was nothing. The house was eerily silent.

‘Catalina? Alicia?’ he called. His voice echoed through the empty hall. He went through to the sitting room and heard the grind of broken glass under his boot.

In one frantic moment he saw the shattered window, the overturned furniture. Catalina’s shawl on the floor. In the centre of the settee a dagger hilt was standing straight up. Jamie stumbled forward to find a note pinned under the blade.





If you want your whores back, Hatherton, go and get them at the old sheepherder’s cottage in the woods....





‘Lord Hatherton? Are you there? What has...’ Everett appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath as if he had run after Jamie. ‘What has happened here?’

Jamie silently showed him the note, and Everett’s sun-browned face turned pale. ‘He has taken them, this man Webster?’

‘To the hut at the edge of the woods,’ Jamie said tightly. If that bastard Webster had been writing a melodramatic play he could not have chosen better than to take Catalina to the place where they had made love. Where they had finally found each other again. Now it was her prison.

But he would have her out of there soon enough. And then he would kill Webster.

He turned around silently and headed out of the shambles of the sitting room.

‘I am coming with you, my lord,’ Everett said, hurrying after him.

‘It is me Webster is after,’ Jamie said. ‘I can’t ask anyone else to go into danger.’

‘You aren’t asking me, my lord—I’m telling you,’ Everett said stubbornly. ‘I have to help her.’

Jamie turned to see the same burning fear and resolve he himself felt reflected in the estate manager’s eyes. ‘You care about Alicia.’

‘I love her. And even if she won’t have me, I have to help her now. To do anything I can for her.’

‘So be it,’ Jamie said with a nod. ‘I am glad to have you with me, then. You are armed?’

Everett showed him the pistol he had tucked inside his coat. They hurried back to the carriage and Jamie urged the horse as fast as it could go back on the road out of town. They drove in grim silence, the evening gathering quickly in on them.

Until suddenly a pale figure darted out from the thick stand of trees by the side of the lane. It was a woman in a light blue dress, and she waved her arms frantically as she screamed his name.

‘Lord Hatherton!’ she cried. ‘Oh, thank heaven you are here.’

‘Alicia,’ Everett shouted. He leapt down from the carriage even before Jamie could draw to a full stop and ran to catch her in his arms. She clung to his neck, sobbing. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘No, no, but—oh, Lord Hatherton, you must go after Catalina,’ Alicia said. ‘She distracted Webster so I could run away, but now she is trapped there.’

‘In the cottage?’ Jamie demanded.

‘Yes,’ Alicia choked out. ‘I don’t know if she is alone, or...’

Jamie didn’t stop to hear any more. He knew he could move quicker now on foot than in the carriage, and he ran towards the pathway. He didn’t even feel his injured leg any longer. He only knew he had to get to Catalina.

‘Wait for me, my lord,’ Everett called.

‘No,’ Jamie shouted back. ‘You see to Alicia. Go to Castonbury for help.’

And he kept running until he glimpsed the cottage just ahead in the clearing. But he saw to his horror that it was in flames....

* * *

Catalina must have fallen asleep, she realised as she suddenly jerked awake. For an instant she felt dizzy and disoriented, as if caught in the sticky web of some dark nightmare. Her throat felt dry and raw, and something sharp and pungent was seeping into her nostrils.

Her eyes flew open, and she saw that the candle had toppled into a pile of blankets and flames were dancing up the wall. Smoke curled around her feet.

She leapt up and ran to the door, frantically trying to pull it open. It was still barred.

‘Let me out!’ she screamed, pounding on the door. She coughed on the smoke and pressed her arm over her face. ‘Dejar yo fuera, let me out!’

Was this the end, then? Had she survived everything in Spain only to die here? So many things flashed through her mind, Lydia and Mr Hale, Lily and Giles’s wedding. The cool green fields and pale walls of Castonbury. Jamie and how very much she loved him. Were they all gone from her now?

‘No,’ she cried. No, she would not give up her life so easily. She had so much to live for. She had found Jamie again. She threw her whole body against the door. Pain shot down her side, but she ignored it and threw herself forward again and again until she sobbed in exhaustion.

Suddenly the door was flung open and she stumbled. She would have fallen if a pair of strong arms hadn’t closed around her and lifted her up.

‘Catalina!’ Jamie shouted. ‘My darling, are you hurt?’

She clung to him as she shook her head. ‘I’m not hurt,’ she managed to choke out just as she heard timbers snapping in the roof.

Jamie spun around and ran with his love in his arms to the edge of the clearing. The night was terribly lit up with smoke and flames. He lowered her carefully to the grass and kissed her hard over and over. His gaze scanned over her as if to assure himself she was truly unhurt.

‘Where is Alicia?’ she asked.

‘She is safe,’ Jamie said. ‘We found her running down the road. She and Everett have gone to fetch more help at Castonbury.’

‘Oh, Jamie,’ Catalina whispered, suddenly realising the enormity of what had almost happened. They had nearly been parted again, for ever this time. She couldn’t quit shaking. ‘I thought I might never see you again.’

Jamie held her close and kissed her forehead, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, over and over. ‘I’ll always come for you, my love. Always, no matter what. I promise you that.’

He kissed her once more and helped her to her feet. When her knees nearly buckled, he caught her around the waist and held her steady.

‘Come,’ he said. ‘I should take you home now and send for the doctor.’

‘No, I don’t need a doctor,’ Catalina protested, but she let him lead her into the stand of woods that led to the road.

But they did not get very far. A man suddenly stumbled out from behind a tree in the darkness. His coat was torn and his red hair tangled, yet Catalina could see the mad glitter of his eyes. It was Webster. And he held a pistol levelled on them.

Catalina’s mouth went dry, and her heart pounded with a fresh rush of panic. She spun around hard, pulling Jamie with her, but the footman was behind them with another gun in his hand. His face was white and his breath was laboured as if his panic was even greater than hers. The gun wavered in his hand yet he held on to it.

‘So you got my message, Hatherton,’ Webster said with a terrible triumph in his voice. ‘I knew if I just waited in the right place you would come to me. This is meant to be.’

Jamie’s hand moved towards his coat, as if he hid weapons there.

‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Hatherton,’ Webster said. ‘Not with my friend’s gun aimed right at Mrs Moreno’s pretty head. I’m sure you wouldn’t want anything to happen to her, as it did in Spain.’

Jamie’s arm tightened around Catalina. ‘What is your game, Webster?’ he said brusquely.

‘I have no game here,’ Webster said, his voice escalating. ‘You are the one who ruined my life by being alive, by exposing the plot I so carefully constructed around Miss Walters and her brat. You always did have a knack for using your unearned privileges to ruin other people. But now it looks like I have the upper hand at last.’

Catalina glanced frantically between Webster and his footman accomplice. The man didn’t seem to share Webster’s wild confidence. The hand holding his gun trembled, which made the firearm wobble around in a terrifying way. What if it went off?

She was sure if she could catch him off guard she could knock him to the ground, leaving Jamie free to deal with Webster. But as she took a step towards him, the gun suddenly swung up and pointed at her face.

‘Don’t—don’t come near me!’ the footman screamed.

‘Catalina,’ she heard Jamie shout. He dragged her down just as a deafening explosion went off. The flames behind them crackled higher, and Jamie threw her to the ground, his own body over hers.

‘Jamie! Are you shot?’ She ran her hands desperately over his back and shoulders, searching for any wounds. She felt his breath on her skin, steady and warm.

‘It’s not me,’ he said roughly as he pushed himself up over her. ‘For God’s sake, woman, what were you thinking, moving towards him like that? He could have killed you!’

‘I thought I could distract him.’ Catalina peered over Jamie’s shoulder to see that it was the footman who had been shot. A pool of dark red blood spread over his chest as he toppled to the ground.

Webster still held the smoking pistol levelled in his hand. He shook his head with a horrible calm. ‘That was regrettable, wasn’t it? He was a useful ally for a time, but he was obviously losing his nerve.’

He tossed away the empty pistol and drew out a dagger. As he took a step towards them, Jamie jumped to his feet and pulled Catalina up with him. He gave her a hard push and told her, ‘Run, Catalina, now!’

She did as he told her—she ran. But she didn’t go far. She could never leave Jamie. She snatched up the footman’s gun from where it had fallen on the ground and dashed to the edge of the clearing, where she took what shelter she could behind a tree and tried to get a clear shot at Webster.

He and Jamie circled each other warily, their intent stares never wavering from each other. The glare from the fire glinted off the knives in their hands as Catalina’s heart pounded with fear.

Suddenly, Webster lunged forward with his blade raised to strike. He let out a crazed, furious shout, but Jamie just slid agilely to the side. Jamie parried with his own dagger and drove Webster back.

And he kept driving him back, until he landed a strike on Webster’s arm, raising a line of blood on his sleeve. With a cry, he lashed out hard with his foot to kick Jamie on his bad leg and sent him falling to the ground with a sickening thud.

Catalina cried out, but Jamie seized Webster’s wounded arm as he went down and dragged him along. They grappled heavily in the damp dirt, and Catalina couldn’t see clearly what was happening. She heard grunts and dull thuds, barely audible over the crackle of the flames.

Webster’s arm arced back to deliver a killing blow. Seeing the tip of the blade come to within an inch of Jamie’s face, she screamed. But the sound strangled in her throat as Jamie twisted his assailant’s arm sharply and pushed him off.

It was a horribly confusing scene in the firelight, a tangle of limbs and strikes and shouts. She couldn’t see who was where, or get any kind of clear shot.

She fell to her knees with a frustrated sob just as Jamie’s dagger thrust upwards and landed deep in Webster’s chest. He fell face-first as Jamie rolled away, and then he was very still.

Jamie lurched to his feet to stare down at his fallen enemy, the man who had given them so much trouble. He carefully turned Webster over with his boot, and Catalina could see that he was truly dead. His eyes stared up at the night sky, glassy and sightless in the red light.

Jamie’s face was completely blank, no triumph or fear written there. Catalina dropped the heavy gun she held and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck. She buried her face in his shoulder and held on to him as close as she could. He was alive! They were alive, and together at last. It hardly seemed possible after all that had happened.

But then she felt something warm and sticky on her skin, and swayed with a rush of dizziness. She suddenly remembered the blow to her head which she had forgot in the fight; it came back to her with a wave of cold nausea.

‘Catalina!’ she heard Jamie shout about the snap of the flames. Then she fell down into blackness.