The Odious Duke Read online

  She knew also there would not now be time to fetch the Duke and return to the Mill to catch Jasper Royd and her cousin Giles red-handed.

  It would not take them long to empty the Bullion boxes.

  Verena had witnessed how swiftly the “Evil Genius” and Hickson had managed it. In twenty minutes they would be clear of the old Mill, the boxes would be dumped into the water and they would go back to The Castle with a trite excuse for having left so precipitately.

  No, she decided, she would look for herself and see if once again they had hidden the stolen Bullion in the curricle.

  She could inform the Duke of that later, but how foolish she would look if Jasper Royd had made other plans.

  It was in the curricle he had hidden the gold the first time she had seen him at work, but now he might have evolved some quite different scheme. Who could foresee how his mind worked?

  She was riding nearer and nearer to the old Mill. She saw that the bridge had been built as part of a lock, which had regulated the flow of water through the mill. Now the water was flowing through unrestricted.

  Verena drew Assaye to a stop. She had an idea!

  She would send Assaye back to The Castle and the Duke would, on being informed that the horse had come back riderless, come and search for her.

  He would remember, surely he would remember, that he only had to tell Assaye to find her for the horse to seek her out as he had done ever since he was a foal.

  If when the Duke arrived, Jasper Royd and her cousin Giles had left and there was no evidence of what they had been about, she could always say that she had had a fall, that Assaye had put his hoof in a rabbit hole and then galloped home without her.

  The Duke might very well not believe such a story, but he would not challenge her in public and when they were alone she could tell him what she suspected.

  Verena slipped from Assaye’s back, patting him and said in his ear,

  “Go home, Assaye. Go home at once! Go home!”

  Assaye put his muzzle against her cheek and obediently went on his way, the stirrups flapping at his side. Verena waited until she was quite certain he was going towards The Castle and then, moving very softly in case her footsteps were heard, she crossed the bridge.

  She saw a clump of bushes by the Mill and thought that she could hide in them after she had listened to what was taking place inside.

  Jasper Royd’s curricle was standing outside an open door, the horses tied to a post. Verena had hoped to find a window she could look through without being seen, but found only a blank wall.

  She drew near to the open doorway and she could hear the murmur of voices. Then, as she crept a little closer she heard Giles say,

  “Not a very big haul!”

  “About five thousand pounds, I think,” the “Evil Genius” replied. “But worth having. It would have been a pity to pass it up.”

  “Yes, indeed, although tomorrow’s load for Dover will be double or treble this.”

  “All the same I am grateful to the Bank of Canterbury,” Jasper Royd answered. “I am not as wide-mouthed as you are, Giles. I am thankful for small mercies!”

  “So am I!” Giles agreed rather over-eagerly, Verena thought, as if he would ingratiate himself. “I was apologising to you for the spoils not being larger.”

  “You need not apologise,” the “Evil Genius” said “You deal very competently with that obliging gabster in the Bank. At the same time if he endangers our security in any way, you will have to dispose of him!”

  “Hickson can see to that,” Giles replied quickly, as if he had no wish to take such action personally.

  As they were talking, there was a clink of coins and Verena knew that they were putting the sovereigns into the bags as she had seen the “Evil Genius” do before.

  She moved a little further into the doorway.

  As she did so, she trod on a pebble and it made a very slight sound. She held her breath, fearful that it might have been heard.

  She thought that there was a pause in their conversation.

  Then the “Evil Genius” continued,

  “No one is in any way more efficient than Hickson at disposing of undesirables!”

  “Was he perturbed at what happened on Hampstead Heath?” Giles asked.

  “Not in the slightest bit. Hickson is very resourceful. So resourceful, my dear Giles, that we never need worry ourselves however difficult a situation might appear or whatever we may have to –”

  Verena gave a sudden scream.

  Round the corner of the door that she had been leaning against and listening to what was being said, a hand came out and caught her by the neck.

  It was just so sudden and so unexpected that she could not struggle, she could not even turn to run away before the fingers, hard and biting cruelly into her soft skin, dragged her inside the Mill.

  “Well, well, what a surprise!” the “Evil Genius” remarked. “If it is not your future wife, Giles, sweet ingenuous little Verena, spying on us!”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Verena was for the moment unable to speak because of the pressure of Jasper Royd’s fingers on her throat.

  Then, as he released her, Giles, jumping up from where he had been crouching behind a Bullion box, exclaimed,

  “Verena! What on earth are you doing here? Why did you follow us?”

  The “Evil Genius” relaxed his grip and Verena, her hands going to her bruised neck, managed to reply,

  “I thought – you would – w-wish me to be – with – you!”

  “You thought nothing of the sort!” Jasper Royd yelled. “Tell me the truth, you were spying on us, were you not?”

  Verena looked into his face and knew that somehow she must try to extricate herself from the danger she was in.

  “No – of course – not,” she stammered.

  Her words ended in a cry as he slapped her hard across the cheeks.

  “You are lying!” he thundered accusingly. “It was you who warned Theron of the attack on Hampstead Heath. I was suspicious at the time, now I am sure! You know far too much, Miss Winchcombe, and there is only one thing to be done about you!”

  There was so much menace in his tone that Verena instinctively braced herself. She was a soldier’s daughter! She would not show herself a coward in front of a scoundrel like him.

  “What do you mean, Jasper?” Giles asked before she could speak.

  “I mean,” Jasper Royd replied, “that your cousin is going to be most regrettably drowned. For your information, Miss Winchcombe, we will be holding your head under the water until you are dead and then throw your body into the river. There will be no question of foul play!”

  Verena drew in a deep breath.

  She knew that Jasper Royd meant exactly what he had said and that he had every intention of translating his threats into action. No amount of pleading from her or anyone else would alter his determination.

  She had endangered his security and therefore she must die unless the Duke could reach her in time.

  “But Jasper, you cannot do that!” Giles exclaimed. “Verena has not yet signed a will in my favour!”

  Verena looked at him scornfully.

  “Do you suppose, Giles,” she asked, “that I did not realise you were asking me to sign ‒ my own death warrant?”

  “You blasted fool! You clumsy idiot!” Jasper Royd stormed. “I told you to be really careful in what you said. Can no one carry out my orders competently?”

  “I want to own the Winchcombe Estate!” Giles responded sullenly, looking, Verena thought, just like a small boy who has been denied some special treat that he has set his heart on.

  “Then want must be your master!” the “Evil Genius” snapped.

  His hand went out to take Verena’s arm as he spoke and she forced herself not to wince away from him. She would at least die proudly, not cringing, not crying or pleading with a man so despicable and so utterly barbarous.

  Suddenly the “Evil Genius” gave an exclamation,r />
  “I have a better idea! One that in fact is even safer than destroying this inquisitive chit by drowning. You will marry her, Giles! You have the Special Licence, I suppose?”

  “Yes, I obtained it as you told me to do,” he answered, drawing it from his inner pocket as he spoke.

  “At least one of my orders has been carried out,” the “Evil Genius” snarled. “Very well we will repair at once to the Church in the village. I know the old Vicar and so I will tell him some yarn about your being a runaway couple.”

  “I will not marry Giles,” Verena asserted firmly.

  “You will marry him,” the “Evil Genius” contradicted her at once, “and remember that even though you live, a wife cannot give evidence against her husband. I have thought of that, you interfering jade, because there is no detail that escapes my mind!”

  “That I can easily believe!” she retorted, “a small detail like murder ‒ for instance!”

  She glanced at him contemptuously and half-expected him to hit her again. But he merely grinned at her evilly and she thought that in some horrible way he even admired her courage.

  “You will marry him,” he repeated silkily, “but it will not be for too long, don’t let the thought of that perturb you!”

  He turned to Giles, who was still standing by the Bullion boxes, a sack of sovereigns in his hand.

  “Giles, you will drive from the Church to the The King’s Head. It is about a mile down the road towards Dover. You will find Hickson there and, as you are so squeamish, I know that he will oblige in getting rid of your wife!”

  “But how will he manage that?” Giles asked without apparently any regret or even surprise at the thought.

  “A carriage accident would, I imagine, be the most plausible,” the “Evil Genius” replied. “But I will leave you and Hickson to work out the details.”

  His lips curled as if he thought the idea was positively pleasurable.

  “But don’t let’s waste any time,” he continued, “in case the alluring Madame Muzisescu should fail to hold my cousin’s interest. Let’s throw the empty boxes into the river now. You will see that Hickson, who, like myself, thinks of every detail, has left some bricks handy to weigh them down with.”

  Turning his head towards Verena, Jasper Royd said,

  “Do you wish me to tie you up? Or will you give me your word, which I have a feeling you will keep, not to run away? You would not run far in any case.”

  “You have ‒ my word,” Verena answered quietly.

  She felt as she watched the two men put the bricks into the Bullion boxes and throw them through the aperture at the end of the Mill, which opened onto the river, that she must be living in some strange nightmare that she could not awake from.

  Her cheek was burning from the violence of the “Evil Genius’s” hand where he had struck her, but otherwise she felt curiously detached almost as if she was watching everything happening in a playhouse.

  It could not really be true that she was to die or that she was to be married to a man she loathed and despised even more than she hated the “Evil Genius”.

  It was like sinking into the depths of a foul degradation to recall that she had ever imagined for one moment that she could marry Giles or that he genuinely loved her.

  He had only one idea and that was to obtain possession of the house and estate that had belonged to the Winchcombes for generations.

  Her grandfather had been so right. Giles was not a Winchcombe, he was a Smythe! And just as he had no real right to the name, none of the characteristics, the bravery or the honour of the Winchcombes had been transmitted to him.

  It only took only a few minutes for Jasper Royd and the Captain to dispose of the Bullion boxes, to pick up the sacks of coins, to carry them outside and stow them in the secret hiding place in the curricle.

  The “Evil Genius” returned to say with a mocking smile,

  “Would your Ladyship condescend to honour my curricle? Pray seat yourself between us. We must not take any chances on your attempting to escape.”

  Holding her chin high, Verena then did what was asked of her even though, squeezed between the two men, she felt disgusted by their close proximity.

  “Where is your horse?” Jasper Royd asked her as they crossed the bridge over the river.

  Verena looked back in what she hoped was a convincing manner.

  “I left him by those bushes,” she answered.

  The “Evil Genius” seemed satisfied with the explanation but she was suddenly tense with fear lest her cousin should remember the tricks that she had taught Assaye. He must have known about them in the past.

  But to her relief Giles’s thoughts were concerned with the present. For after a moment he asked her in a low tone,

  “Why did you have to interfere?”

  “I don’t wish to speak to you,” she replied. “I am ashamed, Giles, so ashamed that I ever believed you to be ‒ a trustworthy and decent man.”

  “It is hard to be either without any money and you know how open-handed your parsimonious grandfather was to me!”

  “Don’t dare to speak ‒ of him,” Verena exclaimed angrily. “I am only thankful that he is not alive to learn of your behaviour and be aware that any relative of his, however distant ‒ should be a criminal!”

  The “Evil Genius” laughed.

  “High-flown words, Miss Winchcombe! Doubtless your husband will wish to punish you for them before he becomes so regrettably and so unexpectedly a widower!”

  “It is you who have led Giles astray,” Verena cried. “Do not put any more of your loathsome ideas into his head.”

  “So you have realised that he is weak and very amenable?” the “Evil Genius” asked.

  “Really, Jasper,” Giles interposed, “there is no need to be unpleasant about me.”

  “Oh no, of course not!” the “Evil Genius” said with a sneer in his tone. “You are a very fine figure of a man, a credit to your Regiment, a sporting chap no one would credit for a moment with having the brains to rob a bank!”

  “You pick your servants ‒ well,” Verena commented bitterly.

  “Of course, I do,” the “Evil Genius” retorted. “As you have already recognised, I have a head for detail and can command my forces as well as any General in the field.”

  As he spoke, he drove the curricle out through the gates of the drive and Verena saw that directly opposite them there was a small greystone Norman Church.

  It stood a little apart from the village which lay further up the road. There was a lych-gate leading to a churchyard full of ancient tombstones and a door into the Church was open.

  She saw the “Evil Genius” taking everything in with a quick glance of his dark eyes.

  “It appears as if the Vicar may be here,” he said, “if not, I will fetch him from the Vicarage. All you have to do now, Giles, is to produce the Special Licence. I will do the talking.”

  He paused and looked at Verena.

  “One word from you,” he said menacingly, “just one word that you are being forced against your will to marry Giles and the Vicar will have to die! Do you want that on your conscience?”

  There was something in the way he spoke, it was so terrifying that Verena’s eyes fell before his.

  “Remember what I have said for I don’t speak idly.”

  As he spoke, the “Evil Genius” stepped out of the curricle.

  “What about the horses?” Giles asked.

  “They will stand,” the “Evil Genius” replied. “But let’s be sure that the moment you are wed, you can post for The King’s Head.”

  He beckoned as he spoke to a small boy kicking a stone along the road and saying,

  “Here, youngster, I’ll give you a penny to hold my horses.”

  The boy ran eagerly to the horses’ heads.

  “I’ll ’old ’em for you sir.”

  Jasper Royd walked away toward the Church. Verena moved across into his seat so as to be further away from her cousin.
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  “I am sorry about this, Verena,” he said in a blustering tone that she knew was partly embarrassment.

  “I do not wish to hear any of your apologies,” Verena answered. “You disgust me!”

  He shrugged his shoulders petulantly, but she knew at the same time that he was agitated and apprehensive.

  He kept glancing towards the Church door, looking up at the clock on the tower and drumming with his fingers on the side of the curricle.

  After a few moments Verena could not help saying,

  “You do realise you will be caught in the end, do you not? And even though you are a soldier, they will hang you, Giles! Hang you at Tyburn for all to see!”

  “Be quiet,” he snapped furiously, “or I will box your ears! What the devil can Jasper be doing?”

  Even as he spoke, the “Evil Genius” then appeared in the porch and beckoned to them. Verena tried to be slow in stepping from the curricle.

  She still hoped that by some miracle the Duke would come to her rescue.

  Even as she thought of it, she knew how impossible it would be for the Duke to find her in time.

  Even if he was told that Assaye had returned to The Castle riderless, he might not at first then understand what it implied. And next, if he did understand, Assaye would lead them straight to the old Mill!

  How could the horse then lead them on to the Church? It would be taxing him far too high to play ‘hide-and-seek’ in a place he had never been to before.

  But still she hoped and beneath her breath prayed for deliverance.

  “Come on, hurry up!” Giles urged her impatiently.

  “My skirt is entangled in my heel,” Verena answered him, stooping down and pretending to release the velvet hem of her habit.

  “Never mind,” Giles said impatiently and, clutching her by the arm he dragged her up the Church path.

  She knew that he was in a state of agitation. She could tell it by the tremor of his voice, by the roughness of his grasp and by the way he was trying to pull her into a run.

  They reached the porch.

  “The Vicar is in his house,” Jasper Royd said. “The Verger has gone to fetch him. Give me the Marriage Licence. I will talk with him when he comes back and explain exactly what is required.”