The Importance of Love Read online

  “Why are you doing this?” she howled at him beginning to cry.

  She felt sick and her mind would not function.

  All she knew that it was Frank Connolly who had taken her and now she was his prisoner. She could not even remember where she had been or what had happened after everything had gone black.

  “You know why. You are mine! Mine, you hear? And you can forget about this ridiculous wedding to this Viscount,” he spat. “We are going to Ireland and we shall be married the moment we reach Kilsharry!”

  “But I am marrying David! You cannot make me marry you. He will come looking for me.”

  “He does not even know you have gone,” he sneered. “And by the time he does, I will have taken care of him.”

  A cold hand of fear gripped at Luella’s heart.

  “What do you mean?”

  Frank Connolly turned his back on her and put his hand inside his jacket. His fingers sought out the hard barrel of the gun and he smiled with satisfaction.

  “David will be out looking for me. There is not an inch of this country that his men don’t know – they will find me and you will be thrown into jail,” shrieked Luella, her voice rising in sheer panic.

  She realised that Frank Connolly was not in his right mind and now she was terrified of what he was going to do next.

  “Shut up!” he retorted sharply. “That man is no match for me.”

  “He will see you put away for a very long time. Of that, you can be certain.”

  Frank Connolly turned and laughed in her face – a cruel, hard laugh.

  “Not if I get to him first. I shall make certain he does not live to put me into prison.”

  He took out his pistol and waved it in Luella’s face.

  “You – cannot,” she whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

  Without saying another word, he took out the bottle of chloroform and wetted a lint pad with it.

  “Do I have to use this again?” he roared.

  Luella shook her head sadly and became compliant.

  He left the room and locked the padlock firmly behind him.

  The room was dark and windowless and as soon as the door closed, she was plunged into semi-darkness. A thin ray of light penetrated underneath the foot of the door and illuminated the filth on the floor.

  Luella hung her head and wept silently. She did not wish to give him the satisfaction of breaking down.

  “Oh, David. Help me! Help me!” she repeated over and over again, as if by repetition her message would somehow get through to him.

  Frank Connolly sat in the driver’s seat of the Daimler and silently loaded the pistol. The engine was ticking over and he knew what he now had to do.

  ‘If that clever Viscount thinks he has got one over on me, then he is a fool!’ he said through gritted teeth.

  Tucking the pistol back into his jacket, he let out the clutch and the motor car moved forward.

  ‘I shall put an end to this ‘Wedding of the Year’ once and for all,’ he growled, as the Daimler made its way slowly to the main road.

  *

  At Torr House, the Viscount was sitting in the dining room awaiting Luella’s arrival so that they could start luncheon.

  ‘Where is that girl?’ he muttered, as Cork brought in the plates.

  “Cork, have you seen Miss Ridgeway?”

  “No, my Lord. Shall I ask Thomas and Johnny? They are back in the garden again after their break.” “If you would, Cork.”

  But Cork returned some fifteen minutes later saying that no one had seen Miss Ridgeway since before their midday break.

  “That is very strange. Perhaps that was her I saw in the car with Bennett.”

  “That is impossible, my Lord.”

  “Why do you say that, Cork?”

  “Because Bennett is in the kitchen with Mrs. Cork, my Lord.”

  A shot of fear ran through the Viscount’s body. Without a word, he leapt up from his seat and ran out of the dining room towards the back stairs.

  His heart was beating wildly as he rushed into the kitchen to see a surprised Bennett and Mrs. Cork jump to their feet as he entered.

  “Bennett. What are you doing here?” he cried. “I thought I saw you go out in the car not an hour ago?”

  “No, my Lord. I brought the Daimler back here, as I was getting low on petrol. I was going to fill her up after lunch.”

  “So who was that I saw driving like a bat out of hell towards the front gates earlier then?”

  Mrs. Cork and Bennett looked at each other in bewilderment and a terrible sick feeling came over the Viscount.

  “Mrs. Cork, have you seen anyone unfamiliar around the house today?”

  “No, my Lord.”

  The Viscount ran outside to where Thomas and Johnny were talking to the builders.

  “I say,” he shouted to them. “Has anyone seen anyone strange around the place today?”

  They all shook their heads and mumbled ‘no’ apart from one.

  “Well, when I was on the roof, I did see someone hangin’ around the walled garden, my Lord. But I thought ’e was a surveyor,” piped up an old man in a flat cap known as Old Ben . “At least, that’s what I took ’im to be.”

  The Viscount moved towards the man with his heart hammering hard.

  “This man, what did he look like?”

  “About forty years old with a red face, my Lord. Dressed smart, he was.”

  Even though the Viscount had never seen Frank Connolly, he knew enough from how Luella had described him to know instinctively it was him.

  And who else could it be?

  “Connolly – ” muttered the Viscount, as the awful truth hit him.

  “Right, everyone. I have strong reason to believe that Miss Ridgeway has been kidnapped and my Daimler stolen.

  “Bennett, send one of the gardeners to the Police Station in Bideford at once and raise the alarm. Tell them a Mr. Frank Connolly has abducted Miss Ridgeway and give them Old Ben’s description. Everyone else, get out every last horse, carriage and cart in the place and we must go and search for her.”

  “They won’t have gone far, my Lord. There was barely enough petrol to get to the next town and back,” added Bennett.

  Fifteen minutes later, the Viscount was in the gunroom handing out a variety of pistols and shotguns. He had no idea where to begin their hunt, but was relying on the local knowledge of the men around him.

  Everyone had downed tools to join in the search.

  As the Viscount mounted the horse that had been made ready for him, one of the builders came to him and drew his attention to a series of tyre tracks.

  “Look, my Lord,” he called. “I’ve already followed them from the track alongside the gardens where Old Ben says he saw someone lurking and they go all the way out to the drive.”

  “Then, we shall follow them and they will lead us to Luella,” cried the Viscount, signalling to everyone to proceed forwards.

  As he rode at the head of the procession of men, he called to his love, wherever she might be. ‘Luella. I am coming,’ he prayed, frantic with worry. ‘I will find you. I promise you.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  Frank Connolly was like a man possessed as he drove the Daimler back along the road towards Bideford. Over and over again he chanted to himself.

  ‘He will not have her! This wedding will never take place!’ until he was almost delirious with rage.

  As the River Torridge came into view, the car spluttered a little as if it might stall, so he pressed down the accelerator hard and it ran smoothly once more.

  Approaching the turn for Torr House, Frank Connolly brought the motorcar to a halt for a moment.

  It was then that he saw on the other side of the bank the procession of carts, carriages and horses headed by the Viscount.

  ‘They are out searching for Luella already,’ he thought with a mounting sense of frustration.

  Taking on one man, face-to-face, was one thing, but this convoy of angry-looking men?
Not even Frank Connolly was fool enough to believe that he could engage them all and not be overpowered.

  With a snort he reversed the car around the corner and headed back the way he had come.

  ‘I shall have to take Luella to Ireland without killing the Viscount,’ he hissed to himself. ‘Let them scour the country like fools. They shall not find where I have hidden her and we will make our escape.’

  With a roar of the engine the Daimler sped back up the road towards the hut.

  Luella had long since cried herself to exhaustion that tears no longer came and had resigned herself to hoping and praying that the Viscount would somehow find her.

  ‘Surely someone will know of this place?’ she whispered to herself. ‘I would imagine that this hut was used by farm workers or maybe shepherds in days gone by to shelter during bad weather.’

  The ropes that bound her wrists and ankles were rough and chafed her. Although she could not see, she was certain they had rubbed her flesh raw.

  ‘And to think this morning I had not a care in the world and believed Frank Connolly was no longer a threat!’

  The thin shaft of light under the door was beginning to move. Luella had no idea what time it might be, but she was becoming hungry and thirsty.

  ‘Oh, David, rescue me, help me. I need you desperately,’ she prayed over and over again. It was yet another hot day and the temperature was beginning to rise.

  ‘He will never get away with this,’ she told herself in order to keep her spirits up. ‘Does he really believe that he can come to a part of the country that he does not know and outwit David’s staff who have lived here all their lives? Of course, they will know of this place and will think of it eventually – ’

  And when she heard the sound of a motor vehicle pulling up outside the hut, she hoped against hope that it would not be Frank Connolly returning.

  ‘He could not have driven to Torr House and killed David in such a short time,’ she agonised. And even though she was terrified, that slim ray of hope made her feel a little better.

  She then heard a fearful crashing around outside the hut and then there came the sound of the padlock being undone.

  The next thing she saw was Frank Connolly’s angry face as he pushed the door open with great force.

  “There has been a change of plan,” he bellowed.

  Luella noticed that he appeared agitated. It was, she thought, as if he did not really know what to do next.

  He came up behind her and undid the ropes that bound her to the chair.

  “Are you letting me go free?” she asked hopefully.

  “Don’t be stupid,” he yelled, the colour mounting once more in his chubby face. “That damned Viscount is heading up a search party for you and I almost drove straight into their path. No, we are going to drive to Liverpool and catch the ferry.”

  “Liverpool! But the Daimler – ”

  “Shut up and do as I say, unless you want me to hurt you or use the chloroform again.”

  His eyes were wild and his mouth curled into an ugly snarl as he dragged her to her feet. But Luella’s bonds made her stumble and only served to increase his rage.

  “Move,” he shouted.

  “But I cannot walk – my feet are bound.”

  Muttering under his breath, he produced a knife from his jacket and swiftly sliced through the ropes.

  Luella longed to rub her sore ankles, but he was too busy dragging her out of the hut and towards the motor car.

  “Get in and do not try and escape!” he screamed. “You will only come to greater harm if you do not comply with my wishes. Is that understood?”

  He pulled out the gun from his jacket and pointed it at her head. Luella froze when she saw it. “Get into the motor car and hurry!”

  Luella was determined that she would not cry and tipped her head back a little to prevent the tears from flowing.

  ‘I must be brave and do as he says,’ she thought. ‘There may be an opportunity once we are on the road to draw attention to my plight or to escape. I may have my hands bound, but my feet are free.’

  Frank Connolly went round to the front of the Daimler and cranked the handle. It started first time much to his satisfaction.

  He ceased shouting at Luella and put the gun back into his jacket pocket.

  They drove back along the track and were soon on the main road. But Frank Connolly had a poor sense of direction and soon, after taking a wrong turn at a crossroads, he was hopelessly lost.

  “Where are we?” he shouted at Luella.

  “I don’t know,” she began. “I – ”

  “Oh, curse this! Direct me! You must know the way into Bideford.”

  “But I am not familiar with the roads,” she insisted. “I know my way no better than you!”

  “Stop talking nonsense and show me the way. If you are trying to obstruct our progress, you will be very sorry.”

  He fingered the gun in his pocket and Luella became very afraid of what he might do.

  “T-try this way,” she indicated a turning she thought looked familiar. But they had not gone a hundred yards when the Daimler suddenly started to splutter. It jerked and coughed before stopping completely.

  “Damn! What is wrong with this infernal machine?” he shouted, his nerves now getting the better of him.

  “I believe we are out of petrol,” suggested Luella, who had heard Bennett describe how he had once become stranded in his previous job.

  “Where can we find some?”

  “I don’t know. Bennett always takes care of that sort of thing.”

  With a furious expression he stomped back towards the passenger seat and dragged Luella out of the car.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Shut up! I am going to try to start it one last time.”

  Tying a length of rope to the bonds around her hands, he then looped it around his waist while he cranked the handle, but it was no use.

  “Blasted thing! Curse it! I should have known not to trust something mechanical. I should have stolen a horse and cart – at least a horse will always go, if you give him a good-enough thrashing.”

  He was now utterly furious, kicking the car and using the kind of language Luella did not care to overhear.

  After one last abortive attempt at starting the Daimler, the crank handle snapped in his hand. With disgust, he threw the broken metal to the ground and stamped on it.

  “We will walk,” he yelled hysterically.

  “Where to? We are nowhere near any transport.”

  But Frank Connolly was not listening. He was already walking on ahead with the rope still around his waist and Luella stumbling behind him.

  “This is utter folly,” she pleaded, hoping to delay him. “Stop! I beg you.”

  “Be quiet, woman.”

  “What do you think you will achieve by dragging me across the country?”

  “Shut up! Shut up!” he bellowed turning around to face her.

  He jerked the rope and she fell to the ground. Her arms ached from the motion of being led along and it took all of her strength not to cry.

  “Get up. We will walk to the train station at Bideford and get on the train. Or I will hire a carriage and horses.”

  “You would parade me through the streets of Bideford like this?” she howled, holding up her bound hands. “Do you really think you will get away with it? Everyone knows me – they will set upon you and you will be lynched.”

  “Then you will have to come quietly,” he snarled pulling out his pistol again. “Now shut up and walk. When the time comes, I will untie you.”

  Luella followed on behind him, praying with all her might that someone would see them. But the road was deserted and not a single horse or cart came along.

  Eventually they reached the river. He noted with a satisfied grunt that the tide was out, so he dragged her down the steep bank to the shingle-lined shore.

  “We shall be out of sight of the road this way. Now come along and do not think of giving me
any trouble.”

  By now tears were slowly coursing down Luella’s face. The sun was still warm and she was hot and thirsty. The cool water that lapped against the shingle seemed to mock her and made her even more desperate for a drink.

  “Water! I must have water,” she called stumbling on some pebbles.

  Frank Connolly looked irritated by her request, but then he nodded.

  “I don’t want to have to carry you if you faint. Be quick.”

  He allowed Luella to walk to the water’s edge and kneel down.

  Putting her face into the cool water, she lapped up as much as she could before he jerked her to her feet again.

  “Now get a move on. If I tie you up by the bridge, I can go and find a carriage.”

  “Are you mad?” asked Luella. “What if the tide comes in while I am tethered here?”

  “Then at least the Viscount will not have the satisfaction of marrying you,” he snapped and threw his head back with a terrifying cruel laugh. Fear clutched at Luella’s heart as they stumbled along the shore together.

  ‘David! David. Help! Help.’

  The bridge was now only a few hundred yards away and she could see he was looking for a post or one of the metal rings used by boatmen to tether their craft, so that he could strap her to it.

  Suddenly, from above their heads on the bridge there came a piercing shout.

  “My Lord! My Lord!”

  Luella looked up to see Thomas’s face staring down at her.

  “It’s ’er! It’s Miss Luella! She’s down on the shore.”

  Frank Connolly froze to the spot. He spun around and looked for somewhere to run or to hide – but there was nowhere.

  Then down the set of stone steps that led from the bridge came the Viscount and a whole column of men.

  “Luella!” he shouted, moving stealthily forwards with his eyes fixed firmly on Frank Connolly.

  “David! He’s got a gun!” she cried.

  “And I will not hesitate to use it!” yelled Frank Connolly, as he fumbled inside his coat.

  The Viscount halted in his steps as Frank Connolly drew out his pistol and, pulling Luella closer to him, he pointed it at her.

  “Take one step closer and I will kill her,” he hissed as his thumb flicked off the safety catch.