Page 39 of The Book of Lost Stories

Stone Cold

Reliant on Sir Lemuel even for the very bread she ate, Drusilla had no means of leaving other than through his good offices in finding her another position.

This he seemed reluctant to do, although his proposal of marriage sprang, she thought, more from a desire to protect her good name than from any warmer feeling.

Death or Dishonour by ORLANDO brOWNE

Alys opened her eyes on the total, stifling darkness of the tomb and thought herself in the grip of a nightmare.

Then the discomfort of her pounding head and bruised body lying on cold, clammy stone, brought her to the realization that she really was entombed in what felt like some dark cellar or cave. Her hands were tied behind her and were numbed to useless marble.

There was no glint of light, but somewhere far off she could hear the faint, musical trickle of water, making her realize how dry her lips were.

With an effort she managed to sit up, then shuffled across the floor until she came up against a wall, where she stayed, feeling sick from the ache in her head.

Some feeling slowly began to return to her hands and she could detect strange irregularities and hard protuberances in the wall behind her. Her fingers traced a large, ridged scallop shape, then another, smaller one, then the smooth curves of an oyster shell …

Shells? Could she possibly be imprisoned in a grotto ? Who had mentioned a grotto recently …?

Then she remembered that it had been Nell, describing Lord Chase’s house.

Her mind began to clear, and she recalled perfectly well that she and Bella had come to Templeshore to rescue Sarah, only she could not remember any more than getting out of the carriage and walking through a gate. After that, it was all blackness.

If it was Lord Chase who had knocked her senseless and carried her off, then he was fit only for Bedlam.

There was a faint whimpering and a curiously muffled scrabbling in the darkness somewhere nearby.

‘Bella ?’ Alys whispered, then louder: ‘Bella, is that you?’

But the small sounds went on without pause, and Alys reflected that a weaker woman would have imagined it to be a ghost and been quite beside herself by now.

She bit her lip and, ignoring the muzziness in her head, tried to think what the more enterprising of her heroines might do in such a situation: one of her earlier heroines, such as Malvina, for Cicely had shown all too much dependence on Simon in the end, even though she had resisted his dark charms until he had proved himself worthy of her.

But she could count on no such hero to ride to her rescue unless …

surely Nat had been tricked too, and could have no notion that she and Bella were prisoners here, for who knew what purpose?

Or – horrid thought – perhaps the letter was a ruse thought up by Lord Chase to bring them there.

But then, surely Bella knew her own brother’s handwriting, and the very horses that brought them here were his.

Oh, how she wished her head did not still ache so much, so that she could, with her usual acuity, make some sense of what had happened, and what she was to do.

‘Hello?’ she said again into the darkness. ‘Bella, is that you? Can you hear me? Where are you?’

She became aware of a light slowly outlining a door in one wall and spilling through a small metal grille, allowing her to see that she was indeed sitting in a small, domed chamber, the walls intricately and outlandishly patterned in shells.

Of Bella there was no sign, only the massive shape of a stone sarcophagus lying against one wall.

Then the door swung open with a groan of rusty hinges and a tall figure, garbed in hooded black, stood before her. Where his face should have been was a black mask, eyes glittering through the slits with an expression quite unlike Lady Malvina’s gentle and monkish saviour.

‘Lord Chase?’ she demanded, more boldly than she felt. ‘What is the meaning of this outrage? Why have you brought me to this place?’

‘Not Chase. Haven’t you guessed yet?’ said a familiar voice, but in accents far removed from their usual languid tones, and, pushing back his hood, he removed the mask to reveal a smiling and angelically fair face.

‘ Nat! ’ exclaimed Alys. ‘But what does this mean? Have you come to rescue me?’

‘On the contrary, Cousin.’

A faint whimper reached them, and this time Alys was certain that it came from within the stone coffin. ‘There is someone here with me, but that surely cannot be Bella, your own sister!’

‘I thought you quicker of comprehension than this, Alys. Really, you disappoint me! But then, after almost being run down by a carriage and poisoned by sweetmeats, you were still so trusting and confiding.’

Alys stared at him as the truth hit home. ‘ That was you? Then Bella—’

‘At home, of course, where she should be.’

‘Then – oh, my goodness – tell me it is not Sarah in the stone coffin!’

‘Yes, she was a little fancy of Chase’s, but rather too close to home for safety, silly fellow.’

‘But why did you not let her go when you discovered what he had done?’ she demanded.

‘What, and have her tell everyone of it? Besides, I quickly saw how I could use it to my advantage to lure you here.’

‘And you have already tried to kill me,’ Alys said wonderingly. ‘But why?’

‘Money, of course, fair Cousin. Fond though my uncle is of Bella, he favoured you from the minute he set eyes on you, his own granddaughter. I am the heir to the property, but his private fortune he may leave where he pleases, and he pleases to leave most of it to you.’

‘I am sorry, but that was not my intention in coming to London, and I have made it plain that I do not want it.’

‘Not want a fortune?’ he sneered. ‘Had you accepted my hand in marriage, then he would have paid my debts, and settled two-thirds of his fortune on me – and, if I proved sober and respectable enough, have me accepted into an ancient Order that makes the Brethren seem the play-acting it is.’

Alys began to fear that her cousin had also run mad. ‘ Another secret Order, Nat?’ she said mildly. ‘Do you not think it most unlikely that Grandfather should be involved in such a thing?’

‘That is the beauty of it: there is some great secret – perhaps a treasure – and members from each of seven families, including the Hartwoods, have sworn to guard it throughout the centuries. My father told me of it when I was a boy, for I should be the next bearer of the secret. But Bella overheard my uncle tell Rayven that, while he did not think me fit to hold that office, you, a mere woman, had the qualities he looked for.’

‘But why should he tell Lord Rayven, unless the Rayvens are one of these seven designated families, of course?’ she said. ‘Dear me, this grows more like one of my novels by the minute.’

‘Why else should they be so thick with each other? And since you will not marry me, then I cannot risk your marrying Rayven and cutting me out altogether.’

‘I do not know how many times I have to assure you that I have no interest in marrying Rayven or anyone else.’

‘Just as well, since you will now never have the opportunity.’

‘What do you mean to do?’ she asked steadily.

‘You will vanish and the rumour of your having run away with a lover will be the talk of the Town, your scandalous books will be raked up—’

‘I don’t think Grandfather will fall for that tale.’

‘He will when Bella tells him that you confided in her that you felt no respect for the marriage tie and so meant to run off with a married lover to America.’

‘No one who truly knows me would believe I would do anything of the kind.’ She paused. ‘And what, pray, are you intending to do with me?’

‘Well, my first thought was indeed to have you carried aboard a ship bound for America – drugged, of course. But now I think a more final disposal might be better. But first, you will play a central role in poor Francis’s final ceremony.’

‘Ceremony?’

‘Francis – our Grand Master, you know – fancies that he may achieve a closer link with the Great Beyond through union in a certain ceremony with a virgin, which I most earnestly hope you are, Cousin. Our first choice’ – he cast a look at the stone coffin –‘appears to have lost her wits, which is not entirely satisfactory. Perhaps I will be merciful, and dispatch her abroad in your place. You will also make your final journey by ship, although of course you will know nothing of it, for tonight will be positively your last appearance.’

He seemed so amused by the idea that Alys, who had been listening in horror, suppressed any inclination to appeal to his better nature. Quite obviously he had none.

‘Does Bella know what you mean to do?’ She was glad to hear that her voice did not tremble.

‘Oh, no, she thinks you will be bound for America. She is a simple, trusting creature.’ He picked up the candle from the ledge and began to turn away.

‘Well, I just thought you might like to ponder on your fate, but I will leave you now. The Brethren will begin to arrive soon, but of course, you will not be needed until much later, for our private ceremonies take place after the majority have gone.’

‘But could you not give me a sip of water first, and perhaps leave me the candle?’ Alys said, despite her resolve not to plead for anything.

He looked at her bruised white face and the long hair tangled about her shoulders and frowned.

‘I suppose we do need you in fair condition for the ceremony or the Master will not be best pleased. I will send a woman down to see to your needs.’ He lit a candle affixed to a metal bracket in the wall.

‘There, that will last an hour or two at least, if light you must have.’

She had not been alone more than a very few minutes when someone else approached.

‘Lady Crayling!’ Alys gasped, for although she had not been introduced to that notorious lady, she had been pointed out to Alys on several occasions.

‘Yes, it is me, you little fool. I do not know how you came to get yourself into this situation, but you need not look to me for help.’

‘Lady Crayling, I beg of you, in the name of your old friend Lydia Basset, help me to escape from here!’

‘I cannot. We are all sworn to keep the secrets of the Brethren for fear of the direst penalties if we do not. But this … no, I did not bargain for this,’ she muttered.

Roughly she began to wipe the blood and dirt from Alys’s face and hands, then held a horn beaker of water to her lips.

‘Thank you,’ Alys said quietly, when she had made her more comfortable.

The older woman looked at her and seemed to waver, but then her face hardened. ‘I can do no more. Drink deep from the cup when it is offered to you at the ceremony, and you will fear nothing, feel nothing.’

‘Lady Crayling, there is someone else here with me, in the stone coffin yonder.’

‘I know. It is a little servant girl Chase picked up. I told him it was rash to take someone local, that she would be missed, but we could not then let her go without her tattling of who had taken her.’

‘But she is a child – barely fourteen!’

‘I can do nothing for her; for either of you,’ she said harshly. ‘I am too far in now.’

She left, and Alys, feeling more alert even if chilled to the bone, considered her situation. The doorway opened on to a passage and there was no other exit from this chamber. Both her cousin and Lady Crayling had gone to the right on leaving, which presumably led to the cellars of the house.

She wondered if there was some other exit the other way, perhaps to the river, or if it merely led to the ceremonial chamber.

She shivered. She was getting stiffer and colder by the minute and, if she was going to act, had best get on with it.

The candle was out of her reach, but she studied the grotto walls nearest to the light until she found a broken edge of shell. Then she manoeuvred the rope that bound her hands behind her back until she could begin to rub it against the sharp edge.

The trouble was, her hands were now so cold she could barely feel whether it was rope or flesh that was fretted by the shell, but she kept on. It was her one hope. If she could get her hands free, she might yet find a way of escape.

What seemed like hours later – and her third bit of shell – she finally felt the ropes begin to part and her hands come loose. It was exquisite agony to be able to stretch her arms in front of her, but she had barely time to savour it when there was the noise of a new arrival.

Whipping her hands behind her back and sinking to the floor, she slumped against the wall in a desolate pose, just as Nat flung open the door. ‘Here’s some unexpected company, Cousin. Make the most of it!’ he said, and a large body was thrown into the chamber, to lie lifeless on the floor.