The Elsingham Portrait - By Elizabeth Chater Page 0,52
was crazed, and her mother and husband had come to take her back to London, that should serve almost as well. It would get rid of her. Elspeth realized that having Kathryn taken away out of all their lives was the thing she wanted most in the world. She neither liked nor trusted the newcomer, and the young man appeared to be no better than he should be—very flashy and bad-tempered he sounded, with his voice raised to his mother-in-law like a spoiled bairn. But then, thought Elspeth, with a surge of relief which quite surprised her by its intensity, I don’t have to live with any of them, and they will take that creature away from here!
She resolved to help them all she could. “I’m Elspeth Cameron of Bennet Farm,” she announced, approaching the arguing pair briskly. “Debbie has misinformed you. Your daughter’s not at our farm. She’s staying at the Reverend Archibald Percy’s vicarage, over near Elsinghurst. You’d best jump right back on the coach and get over there to collect her.”
Here her good luck received its first check. As she spoke, she observed with dismay that the London coach was drawing away from the George and Horse Inn.
“Hurry, then! You’ll miss the coach!”
The young man sneered. “In that event, I’m sure you can lend us your broomstick!”
Elspeth whitened and drew back as from something evil. The woman tried to smooth things over. “You’ll have to forgive a young husband, ma’am, half out of his senses with grief!” she began. But Elspeth was having no more to do with them. “¼Tis my belief you’re all witches and warlocks—you and that unholy creature you call daughter! I’m going to Father Percy this day, and tell him what a viper he has taken into his bosom!” She turned her back and hurried away to where she had stabled the cob.
Donner turned on Adrian Bart with a fury that shocked him. “I’ve let you come with me this far, little man, because I thought you’d be of some use to me in getting Nadine back to Ireland. I had that old bitch ready to help us and you wrecked all with your loose mouth. One more trick like that and I’ll see you die.”
Adrian tried to bluster, but his performance wasn’t very convincing. He was afraid of this terrible old woman; he knew she would stop at nothing to achieve her purpose. Finally he capitulated.
“All right! So it was a mistake to taunt the old woman. What do we do now?”
“We hire a cart and we get over to Elsinghurst Village and spread it about that you’re the husband reported dead in the Colonies. And we make very sure indeed that everyone believes Nadine is out of her mind with grief over the loss of you.” She curled her lip scornfully. “Look pretty, little man, and very much the fine buck that sets the ladies’ hearts to beating. If she denies us, or tries to run away again, we’ll restrain her for her own good—poor mad girleen.”
Adrian stared at her with loathing. “You devil!” he whispered.
Donner answered him with a harsh bark of laughter.” It’s well for you that I am, little man! When we have her safe at Brionny Keep, I’ll pay you your share of his fine lordship’s money.”
“And if she won’t come with us willingly?”
“Then we’ll compel her,” said Donner with a quiet viciousness that silenced further protest.
Sixteen
While Donner and Adrian were dickering for a cart to carry them to Elsinghurst Village, Elspeth was already driving back to Bennet Farm at a pace which alarmed the sober old cob. In fact, he rebelled part way home, and neither voice nor whip could move him out of the stubborn walk he affected from then on. So it was that Elspeth arrived at the farm in a tight-lipped fury, to encounter Richard Bennet at the barns. Had she not been so angry, she might have been more circumspect. To his mild enquiry as to what errand had taken her from home, she snapped.
“I’ve been to Crofton discovering the truth about your precious Mistress Radcliffe. It seems she’s no more a widow that I am, and her mother and husband are searching for her—” Elspeth faltered, alarmed at last by the expression on Richard Bennet’s face. Normally the gentlest of men, he was staring at her with angry incredulity.
“You went to Crofton to make mischief for the girl? Is that what you are telling me?”
“She’s no girl, Richard Bennet, as I