Edge Of Darkness (The 2nd Freak House Trilogy Book 3) Page 5

  He shrugged.

  "Do you have family somewhere? Friends?"

  He shook his head.

  "See!" Sylvia cried. "You have nowhere else. We are your family. You must stay here!"

  He did a very unexpected thing then. He bent down and kissed the top of Sylvia's head and clasped her face gently in both his hands. She began to cry.

  I took her hand in my own. "If you find yourself in London, then go to the orphan school in Clerkenwell," I said to Bollard. "Tell them I… Give them a note from me. Is there ink and paper nearby?"

  Mrs. Moore went to fetch the implements and I wrote a note vouching for Bollard. I blew on the paper to dry the ink and handed it to him.

  "Give this to Mrs. Peeble," I said. "They're always in need of able-bodied male servants to show the boys the art of butlering."

  Sylvia spluttered a little laugh at my quoting of her. Then she burst into tears again. I drew her to my breast and together we watched Bollard leave. A few minutes later, we saw him sitting beside the stable lad, driving the cart as it rolled off down the drive. He glanced back and lifted a hand to wave at us. Then his gaze drifted to the windows above. He quickly lowered his hand and turned away, but not before I saw the hopelessness in his eyes.

  CHAPTER 4

  Sylvia couldn't settle to any task. She tried sketching and playing the piano, but didn't feel "inspired" to continue. She managed to prick herself with a needle and stitch her embroidery to her skirt. Her restlessness grew worse in the afternoon when Maud, and not Tommy, brought in the tea.

  "Mr. Langley needs him," Maud said as she poured. "Haven't seen hide nor hair of Tommy since Mr. Bollard left. That'll be that then, I s'pose"

  "What do you mean?" Sylvia asked, accepting her cup.

  "I mean Mr. Langley will keep Tommy to himself now, like he did Mr. Bollard. We'll need another footman to replace him."

  "Tommy is not being replaced," Sylvia huffed. "Bollard will return. You'll see."

  We sipped in thoughtful silence until Maud left, then Sylvia turned to me, a deep frown scoring her forehead. "Oh, Charity, do you think he's gone forever?"

  "I don't know."

  "Will you talk to Uncle August?"

  "Me? Why me? Why not Samuel?"

  She pulled a face. "Ordinarily I would ask Samuel, but he seems as upset about the destruction of that god-awful contraption as Uncle does. I don't think he wants Bollard back." She sighed. "How I wish Jack and Hannah were here. They'd sort it out."

  I set my teacup down in the saucer with a loud clank. "Do not, under any circumstances, write about this in your letters to them. We don't want them feeling guilty for enjoying their honeymoon."

  She nodded, somewhat reluctantly. "I suppose I must prove that I can battle on without Jack's help."

  "That's very brave of you, Sylvia."

  "I do hope Bollard is all right. Do you think he's still in Harborough?"

  I shrugged. "We could drive into the village tomorrow and see, if you like."

  "An excellent idea!"

  That seemed to placate her for a while, but she was still troubled, so I suggested we go for a walk. The sun was out and the roses were in bloom. It was better than brooding inside.

  We traversed the terraced lawn arm in arm, our faces lifted to the sunshine. There was only so much admiring of roses and hedges that we could do, however. When she suggested visiting the lake, I readily agreed.

  "As long as we avoid the ruins," I said. "I don't feel like conversing with Mr. Myer right now."

  "Me either. The lake it is."

  The lawn stretched down to the lake like a velvety green carpet. Sunlight sparkled off the water and not a breath of wind disturbed its surface. The abbey's broken walls stood to our left and I hazarded a glance in that direction to see what Myer was doing. To my surprise, I saw him conversing with Douglas Malborough.

  "What's he doing there?" I asked, slowing.

  Sylvia put a hand to her brow to block out the sun. "I thought he was in the attic with his father."

  "They seem to be deep in conversation." It was difficult to tell the nature of it since both had their backs to us.

  "Charity," Sylvia hedged, "I know we said we would avoid the ruins and Myer, but would you like to—"

  "Yes. Let's get closer."

  We didn't intentionally sneak up on them. It wasn't our fault that our footfalls were muffled by the grass, and the gentlemen were too intent on their conversation to notice us. Indeed, they seemed like great friends, their heads bent together and Myer's hand resting on Malborough's shoulder. We managed to draw within a few feet of them before Myer swung round.

  "Miss Langley! Miss Evans!" Panic flittered through his eyes before his usual supercilious air settled on his features. "We didn't see you there."

  "You ought not to sneak up on fellows," Lord Malborough said through a tight smile. "We cannot be held responsible for what you'll overhear."

  "We were just heading out for a walk," Sylvia said, drawing me away. "We saw you down here and thought we would come and see if you've made any progress with your investigations of the ruins, Mr. Myer."

  "Not as yet," he said.

  Malborough glanced around, as if seeing the ruins for the first time. "What is it you're doing here? Something archaeological?"

  I thought the question odd considering the two men had been chatting for some minutes before we joined them. If they weren't discussing the ruins or Myer's investigation of them, what had they been discussing?

  "Not quite," Myer said. "Your father is the archaeologist, not me."

  "Father?" Malborough gave him an incredulous look. "Not anymore. He hasn't dug anything up since I was born."

  Sylvia and I exchanged curious glances, but Myer merely stared at Malborough for a long time. "I must be mistaken," he finally said.

  He then launched into his theory about the ruins being a paranormal hotspot. Sylvia and I backed away and continued our walk around the lake. By the time we reached the ruins again, Malborough had left and Myer was on his hands and knees, digging at the base of one of the abbey walls.

  "Do you think Lord Malborough was interested in all that paranormal nonsense?" Sylvia asked as we headed back to the house. The sun was beginning to sink low and it would soon be time to dress for dinner.

  "What makes you think it's all nonsense?" I asked. "What if Myer is onto something?"

  "Surely we would have seen evidence of the paranormal down there in all these years, but we haven't. The only demons and spirits that have manifested here have been summoned through other means."

  I wasn't convinced. Myer seemed certain that the ruins were important, and if anyone knew the paranormal, it was Myer. As master of the Society for Supernatural Activity, he was abreast of every disturbance to our realm, past and present.

  "It seems Lord Frakingham no longer has an interest in archaeology," Sylvia said. "I wonder why he ceased."

  "Lack of funds," I suggested. "Or perhaps his interest only extended to these ruins, and now that he no longer lives here his interest has waned."

  "I suppose." We walked in silence for a few minutes, until she spoke again. "Charity, have you noticed how Lord Malborough constantly refers to the time his family owned this place?"

  "I could hardly not notice."

  "Quite," she said on a sigh.

  "It seems he feels the loss of his inheritance keenly."

  "One can hardly blame him."

  One could, but I didn't say so. "Did you notice the way he inspected the silverware at dinner last night?" I asked.

  "No!" She stopped and rounded on me. "Did he?"

  I suddenly wished I hadn't mentioned it, so I merely shrugged. "Perhaps I was mistaken."

  "Perhaps," she said, walking again. "I shall watch him closely tonight."

  And suggest to Mrs. Moore that she count it afterward, no doubt.

  ***

  The seating arrangements at dinner were the same as the previous night, however Langley didn't join us.<
br />
  "He's too tired this evening," Sylvia said without meeting anyone's gaze. "He hopes you can forgive him, my lord."

  "Of course," Lord Frakingham said cheerfully. "It seems you young people have to put up with dull old me."

  "You are neither dull nor old," Sylvia said with a sweet smile.

  He smiled back with genuine pleasure. "I do hope Mr. Langley feels better in the morning."

  Sylvia opened her mouth to respond, but Malborough got in first. "What a fracas this morning! It made the very walls tremble in fear."

  Sylvia winced. "I do apologize. I hope you weren't too disturbed."

  "Not at all," Frakingham assured her.

  "Oh, we weren't disturbed," Malborough agreed. "But am I to understand your uncle's assistant destroyed his invention?"

  "Yes," she said with a silent appeal to me to help her end the conversation.

  "It's of no consequence," I added. "I'm sure Mr. Langley will start his endeavors again."

  Samuel's spoon paused halfway to his mouth. The soup dripped back into the bowl as he blinked owlishly at me. I swallowed and glanced down at my own soup.

  "No consequence!" Malborough cried. To me it felt as if Samuel were speaking his incredulity through him. "Surely the setback is great indeed, or he would not have been so upset."

  "It's not for us to say," his father said with a glare at his son.

  "Of course not." Suitably chastised, Malborough finished his soup, but began again once Tommy collected the bowls. "I do hope the destruction of his life's work doesn't cause Mr. Langley too many problems."

  "It's not his life's work," Sylvia said. "It's his latest hobby."

  "Hobby?" Malborough went still. "What do you mean, hobby?"

  "She means the device was not going to bring any financial reward," Samuel told him.

  "It wasn't?" It seemed it was news to Malborough as much as to me.

  Samuel shook his head. "Langley was only going to create one device and store it here under lock and key to ensure no one else touched it. He didn't want to sell it or hire it out for anyone else's use, although he was determined to publish the details." He shook his head again as if he disagreed with Langley's intention to do so.

  "Then what's the point of it?" Malborough declared.

  "He had a purpose in mind."

  "But not to gain financial reward through its use?"

  "No."

  "My uncle would never use such a thing to trick people for money, my lord," Sylvia said. "You have him quite wrong."

  Malborough ignored her indignant protest and shot Samuel a questioning look.

  "Not everything is about money," Samuel said with a sneer.

  Malborough matched his sneer with one of his own. "It is when you have none."

  "Douglas," Frakingham warned. "That's enough."

  Malborough quieted.

  "The thing is," Sylvia said quickly with a nervous glance at Malborough, "Uncle's scientific endeavors are a labor of love now. He follows his passions and cares nothing for financial gain."

  Malborough and Frakingham exchanged a glance, and I was certain the elder gave his head a slight shake. "Forgive my curiosity," Malborough said. His father's lips tightened and he snatched up his wine glass. "If science is merely a hobby for Langley now, how does he afford to run the estate?"

  "The estate is self-sustaining," Samuel told him.

  Malborough exchanged another glance with his father, but this time it was filled with a simmering anger. "Is it?" he ground out.

  Frakingham finished his wine, but Tommy was too busy serving the main course to refill the glass immediately.

  "It became so in eight short years?" Malborough watched as Tommy spooned honeyed carrots onto Sylvia's plate. "Remarkable."

  "Jack is a very good manager," Sylvia said with pride. "He turned this place around."

  I didn't think it was as simple as that. No doubt Langley was flush with funds and was able to plow money into the estate soon after purchasing it, and improved the land, equipment and buildings. I was surprised to learn that he didn't make any money from his scientific endeavors anymore, however. It put an entirely new perspective on the intention behind his mind-reading device. It would seem that Samuel had spoken the truth when he said Langley wouldn't allow anyone else to use it. He neither planned to sell it nor hire it out.

  I glanced at Samuel, only to catch him watching me beneath lowered lashes. I quickly looked away, only to see Malborough doing the same to Sylvia. It was difficult to tell if he was admiring her or not, but he seemed uncommonly interested in her, when the night before he'd been rather repugnant. His reaction to the estate's financial situation seemed to have cooled too, thank goodness, although I wouldn't want to be in Frakingham's shoes later when his son confronted him over losing the property. I wondered how many conversations they'd had on the topic over the years. It certainly seemed to be a sore point between them.

  Tommy finished serving without a repeat of his behavior from the previous night when he spilled wine down Malborough's shirt. It was a close call for a moment, however, as he too noticed Malborough's intent observation of Sylvia. He kept his narrowed gaze on his lordship.

  "Tell me about your cousin, Miss Langley," Malborough suddenly asked. "I've heard him mentioned frequently since my arrival."

  "Jack?" She shrugged. "There's nothing to tell. He recently married and is enjoying his honeymoon on the continent. His wife is lovely."

  "What a shame I couldn't meet him." He leaned closer and his shoulder brushed hers. She leaned away. "I find it interesting that he has put so much effort into this place when there's no guarantee Langley will leave it to him."

  His obtrusively personal statement had everyone staring at him, speechless. It was one thing to speculate about one's heirs and financial situation behind their back, but quite another to do it in front of his family while a guest in his house.

  It was Frakingham who broke the silence first. "Delicious meal," he said, admiring the sliver of beef on the end of his fork. "Forget French cooks, yours is quite superb, Miss Langley. You must commend him for me."

  "Her," I corrected when Sylvia failed to. She was too intent on Malborough, who once more was leaning too close to her. "The cook is a woman."

  Frakingham stuffed the beef into his mouth and murmured his approval.

  "What are you talking about?" Samuel said to Malborough. I groaned inwardly. It would seem Frakingham's diversionary tactic had failed.

  Malborough shrugged, as if he didn't care. I suspected otherwise, but I couldn't determine what he was getting at exactly. "I heard he's not really Langley's nephew. But I'm sure that's not the case." He waved his fork around. "Rumors and all that."

  Sylvia turned in her chair to face him fully and pinned him with an icy glare. "I don't know who has been spreading rumors, but I can assure you Jack is very much a part of this family. He may not have come to live with us until he was in his teens, but that was simply an unfortunate mix up. He is my uncle's nephew and my cousin, and you, my lord, ought not to believe everything you hear."

  I wanted to applaud her, and I suspect Tommy did too, if his small smile was an indication.

  If Malborough suspected it was all a lie then he showed no sign. He simply held up his hands and apologized for believing the rumors. Samuel, Sylvia, Tommy and I knew that Jack had been an orphan for most of his life. He had gone to live with Langley only when the gentleman found him cohabiting with a group of orphan children that included Tommy and myself. No one, not even Jack himself, had believed that Langley was truly his uncle, but faced with the choice of living in a mansion or living in a dilapidated wreck, it had been no choice at all. To the outside world, Jack was August Langley's nephew.

  Whether Langley would honor Jack as such in his will, by making him his heir, remained to be seen. In that respect, Lord Malborough had raised a very good point. I wondered if Sylvia had ever thought about it, and if so, whether she felt Jack had cheated her of her inheritance. She seemed
fond of him, so I suspected she didn't. There was no malice between them.

  Dinner ended much as it had the previous evening, with Sylvia and me retreating to one of the drawing rooms and the gentlemen dispersing instead of succumbing to the traditional masculine pleasures of brandy and cigars in the smoking room. Unlike the previous night, Samuel didn't join us. I wasn't upset by his absence. Indeed, I was glad to avoid him. The only reason I kept glancing at the doorway at the slightest creak was to see if Tommy would wander past. I wanted to ask him how Mr. Langley faired. After several minutes, I realized I could ask Sylvia instead.

  "How is your uncle?"

  "I don't know. I haven't seen him."

  "But you said you had! At dinner you told us that he sent his apologies but was too tired to join us."

  A wicked gleam brightened her eyes. "It was a small lie. When I saw he wasn't going to join us, I made it up. It seemed like the polite thing to do. Uncle's manners are a little lacking on occasion, and I didn't want to offend Lord Frakingham."

  I patted her hand. "It was the right thing to do. Only, perhaps you ought to see if he's all right. He has, after all, just banished his companion, assistant, valet and friend. It's quite a lot to lose in the space of a day."

  "Not to mention his invention." She rested her gloved hand on top of mine. "You're right. Let's go and see him now."

  She got up. I remained seated. "You don't need me."

  "Of course I do. I'm not facing him alone! He could be quite mad with worry and regret by now."

  "Hence my aversion to seeing him."

  She rolled her eyes. "That was a joke." She grabbed my hand and hauled me up. "He hasn't shouted at anyone or thrown anything in hours."

  I found myself being pulled along toward the door like a wagon. "Then why do you need me?"

  "Your presence will prove how worried we are. He knows you wouldn't come and see him unless you were deeply concerned for his state of mind."

  I wasn't convinced by her argument, but was powerless to do anything about it unless I wanted to create a scene. Which I did not.

  We headed up the stairs and knocked on Langley's laboratory door. There was no answer.