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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

R olfe sat in the shadows of his bedchamber.

There was no candle and but a sluggish fire to light the room, with a sliver of moonlight that peered in through the damask curtain.

He sat slumped in a chair with his legs stretched out at length in front of him.

He was staring at the moon, contemplating Cassia when he first heard her scream.

He was out the door and rushing down the hallway in a second.

Another damned nightmare.

He could already hear her inside as he came to her door, begging the demons of her sleep to leave her be.

Rolfe threw open the door.

In the guttering candlelight, she was sat upright, her hands opened in front of her to wield off her invisible attacker.

“No ... please ...”

Rolfe strode across the room. He took Cassia firmly by her shoulders, and shook her. “Cassia, wake up. It’s a dream. You are safe now.”

He spotted her sketching papers and a pencil lying on the bedside table beside her. An idea came to him then and he took them up as she started to come out of her nightmare.

She looked at him with glazed eyes. “He was there. He killed my father.”

“No,” Rolfe said, pressing the papers and pencil toward her. “Don’t speak. Don’t say another word. Just draw. Draw what you saw in your dream.”

Cassia stared at him, still sleep-dazed. Then she took up the pencil and began moving it across the page. Soon her hand was flying over the sheet as if being directed by an unseen hand, scratching lines and curves in a desperate race to record the images that were locked in her mind.

Rolfe simply stood and waited.

When she finished, she set the pencil down and pushed the drawing toward him. Then she fell back on the bed, exhausted.

Rolfe lifted the parchment to peer at it in the candlelight.

“What is it?” she asked, now fully awake. She brushed back a lock of hair that fell into her eyes. “Is there anything there?”

Rolfe stared at the drawing. He did not speak, just studied the drawing, his eyes narrowed. Finally he looked at her. “Cassia, do you know anything about your father’s activities during the Civil Wars?”

“No, how could I possibly know that? I was in France with my mother, and I was a child, too young to understand what was going on. If my parents communicated, which I would rather doubt, I was never made aware of it. Why do you ask?”

Rolfe looked at the drawing. “What you have drawn here is not simply a picture, but a series of images. This seems to be your father’s walking stick.

There is a gloved hand holding a knife which I assume was the knife used to murder your father.

And,” he added, now showing her the last image she’d drawn, “there is a picture of a sprig of a hemlock plant.”

Cassia glanced at the drawing in the candlelight. “I do not understand. What is so extraordinary about a picture of a hemlock plant? I didn’t even know that was what that was; it is simply a design that is engraved on my father’s watch casing.”

Rolfe looked at her. “Where is this watch, Cassia?”

“It is at Seagrave House with his other belongings. Geoffrey had asked after it and I had planned to give it to him as a sort of consolation after having learned of the truth of my inheritance from Mr. Finchley. I thought it was the least I could do. That was before you told me your suspicions about him.”

Rolfe sat forward. “You say Geoffrey asked after this watch? Was there anything else he asked for, or just the watch specifically?”

Cassia shook her head. “No nothing else. He was quite specific in his inquiry about the watch. It was that day when he threatened me, when you came in the study. He was most agitated.”

“Yes, he was.” Rolfe glanced at the clock that stood on the wall across the room. “It is too late now to go to Seagrave House. We will have to wait until morning.”

He stood.

“Rolfe, what is it? Why do you think this watch has importance?”

“The watch doesn’t particularly, but the engraving on it does.” He turned to face her. “Cassia, you of course have heard of ‘The Regicides?’”

She nodded. “The men who were responsible for bringing the charges of treason against King Charles I, and who signed their names to his death warrant to bring about his execution.”

“Yes. Fifty-nine of them to be precise. It has been King Charles’s most dogged determination that these men should be brought to justice.

A number of them have been arrested and executed, but not all.

But there are still those who have eluded justice, who the king has not yet managed to find.

And there is thought to be a network of even many others, some, it is thought, who are secretly working within government. ”

“You mean as spies?”

Rolfe explained. “King Charles, despite what took place with his father, is still at constant odds with Parliament, especially over money. He spends far more than his year allotment and is constantly asking Parliament for more. Many fear he could become more of a tyrant than his father ever was.” Rolfe looked her in the eyes.

“This sort of society, they call themselves the Conium Maculatum . Cassia, the symbol of these men is the image of the hemlock plant.”

Cassia stared at the drawing she’d made, unable to believe what she was hearing. “My father was never without that watch.” She looked at him again. “You are saying my father was one of these men? My father was one of these Conium Maculatum ?”

“When King Charles was restored to the throne, my first assignment had been to seek out and find these men. I uncovered a number of them, but not all. One in particular remains first on what many call King Charles’s ‘kill list.’ His name is Edmond Ludlowe, and he is thought to be the head of this secret society.

I would need to see the watch casing myself to be sure, but it would appear your father was somehow involved.

How exactly this ties in with your father’s death, I do not know.

I am curious, though, as to why Geoffrey was so interested in the watch. ”

“Surely Geoffrey would have been too young to have been a member of this Hemlock society himself. The trial of King Charles I was nearly fifteen years ago.”

Rolfe nodded. “But, he could have known of your father’s involvement, and perhaps he even thought to profit by it.

There is no use in us getting ourselves convinced over something we don’t even know is true right now.

And we won’t know anything more about the watch at least until morning.

Why don’t you try to get some sleep now.

You must be exhausted. In the morning, you and I will go to Seagrave House and we will retrieve the watch. ”

He started for the door.

“Rolfe ...”

Cassia was peering at him when he turned back to face her, her eyes wide, almost pleading. “Please, don’t go. Stay with me.”

He could see the stark fear in her dark eyes in the candlelight. He knew if he left her alone, she’d spend the rest of the night pacing the floorboards rather than chance the recurrence of her nightmare.

He walked to the bed and lowered beside her onto it. Then, silently, he drew her into the circle of his arms.

Neither said a word. They just lay there together in the quiet of the room with only the ticking of the wall clock.

Cassia was soon asleep, her head tucked under his chin, her cheek at rest against his chest. Holding her thusly, Rolfe sat back against the pillows, and waited for morning to come.

They arrived at Seagrave House early the next morning to find the front door standing ajar. Inside, on their hands and knees among a litter of books, papers, and various things in her father’s study, were Clydesworthe and Lynette, employed in the task of cleaning up a mess.

“What happened here?”

Clydesworthe quickly rose to his feet. “My lord, Lady Cassia. We found the room in this state when we woke this morning. It appears as if someone broke in during the night and went through everything with a mind toward robbery. I was in my room sleeping all the night, as were the others. I swear to you, despite how it appears, no one heard a sound.”

It looked as if a tempest had blown through the room, throwing everything into chaos. Pages had been pulled from books. Drawers stood open, their contents strewn across the floor. Even the rug had been pulled back, exposing the bare floor boards, as if someone had planned to search underneath.

“Is anything missing?” Rolfe asked, taking Cassia by the hand and leading her away from the shattered bits of what had once been a porcelain vase.

“We haven’t yet been able to make an inventory, my lord,” Clydesworthe said. “We decided it would be best to put the room to order first.”

Rolfe looked at Cassia. “Your father’s pocket watch. I would guess it was in this room?”

She nodded. “I had put it away for safekeeping until I could give it to Geoffrey, and then after you told me your suspicions of him, I just forgot about it.”

She crossed the room, stepping carefully over the debris. She went to the hearth and removed a small decorated box set there. It stood untouched on the mantelpiece, looking odd given the havoc that surrounded it.

It was no surprise to either of them when the box was opened and found empty.

“What will we do now?” Cassia asked. She looked around herself at the ruin.

Rolfe thought for a long moment. “Well, we have been cordially invited to attend a gathering at the apartments of Lady Castlemaine tomorrow evening. No doubt, given their recent friendship, Geoffrey will be in attendance. I suggest that you and I will attend this soiree, and we will quite simply ask Cousin Geoffrey if he knows where your father’s watch is. ”

Rolfe and Cassia returned to Hadrian and Mara’s town house, proceeding to the parlor where their host and hostess were at breakfast.

“Goodness,” Mara said, noticing that they were dressed and had already been out. “You two must have been up with the sun. Wherever did you go off to at such an early hour?”