Disappearance in a Motorcar
James’s motorcar rumbled along the road toward the village. Julia shivered in the seat beside him. Cold air had swept in and fog was settling on the countryside. They drove through it in valleys and it swirled alongside the road like ghostly apparitions.
This wasn’t the main road, but it was a lane Julia knew well. A shortcut to Brideswell village. It would come out very close to the hospital.
There were few motorcars in the village—no one passed them. James was driving quite quickly, as she’d asked, turning the wheel with skill to avoid holes in the road.
He slowed a bit, then pushed down on the pedal and the car went perilously fast. With a rapid movement, he turned the steering wheel. The car seemed to skid onto two wheels and she shut her eyes out of instinct.
When she opened them, they were on a different lane—a rougher one that was just two tracks cutting through a field. “Shouldn’t we be going the other way to the village?”
He kept his focus on staying on the tracks. “Shortcut.”
Men. And they complained about women behind the steering wheel. Julia’s heart thudded. She didn’t want to waste precious time. “The other road is a shortcut. I think it would be fast enough. This looks like the kind of track you can get stuck on.” It couldn’t be much used. She, who knew the estate well, did not know where it led.
“Be quiet. Leave the driving to me.”
“Women are no longer seen and not heard, James. This track seems to be going away from the village. I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“It’s a perfect idea.” Then he added, “I learned your husband is taking you on a long trip. A tour through the Mediterranean, then on to Egypt, where you will explore the archeological digs and travel up the Nile. It appears I wouldn’t be seeing you for a very long time.”
“What? We didn’t decide on a trip.” She had said she did not want to run away from Worthington Park. “How did you know about it?”
“Your husband told your butler and a footman overheard.”
She peered ahead. Fog swirled and it looked milky white in front of them, the headlights picking out trees that seemed to fly at them out of nowhere. What he’d said didn’t quite make sense. “But how did you know?”
“I paid the footman to give me information.”
“You paid a footman to spy? Why?”
“I wanted to know what your husband was doing to you.”
She was stunned. How could James have thought such a thing was right? He was truly far too arrogant. “We should have been at the hospital by now.” He must have gone the wrong way after all.
“Don’t fret, Julia.”
“James, Mr. Toft is ill. It could be very serious.”
She gasped as the stream of light from the lamps on the car picked out looming trees in the mist. James slowed the car, picking his way along the track. He must know where it was; Julia could see nothing that looked like a road.
They passed through a wooded area. James stopped the car. Here, it was utterly gray, but for the two pinpoints of the headlights, which illuminated nothing but bracken and tall grass. She stared at him, shocked and confused. “What are you doing?”
“We’ve run out of road.”
His wretched shortcut had turned out to be useless. She’d told him not to do this. And they’d wasted so much precious time. Panic rose and she struggled to fight it. “You have to turn around. We must go back—”
“Calm yourself, Julia. The bugger at Lower Dale Farm is not in any danger.”
She flinched at his harsh description. “You don’t know that—”
“But I do. I know it because I wrote the note and paid some village boy to deliver it.”
“Why would you do that? Was this intended as a joke?”
“I needed to get you into my car, Julia. You should have seen your face when I drove up. You looked as if your knight errant had arrived.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’ve waited a long time for this. I didn’t want to have to hurt you. I thought you might come to me willingly, become my mistress, once you found out the truth about that American thug you married. But then I learned I was running out of time.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He is going to take you away. He would not bring you back here. I’d waited too long already. I paid a man to cut the brakes of his damn car, but that failed to kill him. I am not going to let him take you from me forever.”
Shock had made her wits freeze, made it hard to think. James wanted her. Learning Cal wanted to take her away had made him determined to act.
Three women with dark hair and blue eyes. But that had been John Carstairs. What was Bradstock going to do—try to seduce her? “What do you want from me?”
“I want to be intimate with you. I’ve wanted it for so long. When I was going to propose marriage to your father—”
“Propose marriage to Father?”
“I had a proposition for him,” he said impatiently. “It was common knowledge he’d frittered through his fortune. His debts couldn’t be covered, and the income was dissolving because of his poor management. I was going to cover his debts, if he gave me you.”
“This is not the eighteenth century. I wouldn’t have allowed myself to be sold, no matter what Father said,” she declared.
“Then your engagement with bloody Anthony Carstairs was announced,” he said, ignoring her. “I’d waited too long. I was going to get your father to demand you break the engagement. He would have done anything to get his hands on money to cover his debts. I could have ruined him.”
She sucked in a cold, sharp breath. Bradstock was mad.
“Before I could do that, Anthony volunteered for battle. All I had to do was wait. Reports were coming back—thousands of men were being blown to bits. Anthony was so stupidly brave I was sure he’d get killed.”
“He was truly brave. How dare you mock him?” But even as she threw those words at him, she looked around. She could get out of the car and run. She was going to have to do that. She hadn’t paid a lot of attention to where they had turned exactly, because she’d been so fearful for the Tofts of Lower Dale Farm. The fog made it confusing, but she thought she recognized where she was. On the other side of the hill from where Cal had found the bodies.
He had wanted her—and three dark-haired women had died. “Did you—Were you the man in the motorcar with Sarah Brand? What of John Carstairs? Did he—he kill Sarah or did you?”
The moment she asked the question, she knew she could not turn back.
He smiled. “I did. I met him and we both had our way with her. She looked so much like you. John loved you so much, Julia. I found out about how much John loved you, Julia, when I came to visit Anthony and Nigel. I came to see you, even knowing I couldn’t have you. Once I learned about John’s lust for you, I knew he was going to be the perfect scapegoat. I tempted him with photographs I got of Gladys, the maid.”
Julia felt frozen. Of course. J.C. Not John Carstairs. But James. And he was heir to the dukedom then, known by his courtesy title, the Earl of Cavendish. “The photograph was signed to ‘A.’ I told the daft girl my name was Anthony.” His smile widened. “John enjoyed our game, having women who looked like you, the woman who loved his precious brother. I knew I could lay the blame at his door if things went wrong. Then the War came. I managed to avoid conscription—my father ensured that. I returned from university, and wanted to play the game again, with Anthony gone. But John had an attack of conscience and killed himself, the bloody fool. That’s why I had to stop for so long. But seeing you made it so painful that I needed another girl...”
While he was talking happily, she grasped the door handle to the car. With a swift motion, she shoved open the door and she jumped out of the car as fast as she could. She skidded on the ground—the misty rain made it slippery.
Something grabbed the sleeve of her coat and she screamed. Using all her might, she pulled free and she began running down the track back the way they had come. Behind her, she heard Bradstock curse. “Bollocks. Don’t be a damn fool. There’s nowhere to run.”
But she kept going. She plunged off the track, into tall damp grass. She could see nothing, and that must mean he couldn’t see her. But he could hear her crunching through the grass, couldn’t he? Julia dropped to her knees. She was going to move quietly, and low, below the height of the grass.
A car door slammed, echoing eerily in the vast silence.
He was coming after her.
“Stupid cow,” he said, his words partly muffled by the mist. But now that she wasn’t running, she could hear him much better. “We can be together now,” he growled. “I won’t let that American scum have you. I won’t let him take you from me. I found out all about him. Told Lady Worthington what he was—everything I’d found out.”
Julia bit her lip so she wouldn’t shout at this evil, awful man. She was too scared to move, in case she made a sound.
“I’m going to keep you,” he said, his voice filled with triumph. “Only I will know where you are. It will be my secret forever.”
* * *
The police constable worked at uncovering Sarah’s body, with the sergeant watching the procedure. The young constable had gone behind bushes to throw up once. Cal had helped him for a while. Then something had caught his eye. He bent down. Crisp footprints had dried into formerly wet mud. They had to be fresh—these couldn’t have lasted years. He hadn’t walked over here. Neither had Julia.
Someone had been here recently. Obviously not John Carstairs.
Julia had been attacked and not by Ellen’s pimp, Lowry. Julia, with blue-black hair and stunning blue eyes...
He had to see her. Had to know she was safe. He would get her trunks packed today—they could be gone tomorrow, leaving Worthington Park behind. David could stay if he wanted, as long as he wanted. They could take Diana with them, head to Paris, send her on her way safely to Switzerland with the chaperone.
He told the policemen he needed to check on his new bride, needed to see her. He drove fast to get back to Julia. The wind whipped back his hair. Grit flew against his driving goggles. Despite the conditions of the road, he drove like a bat out of hell. His car springs screeched with each bang and jolt. His headlamps tried—and failed—to cut through a veil of swirling mist. He crunched a headlamp against a stone wall that appeared out of nowhere.
Still, he didn’t ease up. Who could have been there? A farmer? One of the gypsies? But Cal doubted it—it was off a narrow track, behind a grove of trees.
He hit the brakes as he roared into the drive, skidding to a stop right in front of Worthington. Within minutes, he learned Julia was gone. She had received a note that Toft was ill. But the chauffeur told him Julia hadn’t taken a car.
* * *
“His lordship’s going mad upstairs. He thinks Lady Worthington has gone missing.” Eustace had come into the kitchen to impart the latest and most exciting gossip.
Hannah lifted her head from her rolling pin just as Tansy gave a little cry and dropped her bowl. It shattered with such a loud sound that Tansy shrieked. Batter flew everywhere.
Hannah sighed. “Tansy, clean up that mess.” To Eustace she said, “Lady Worthington went out for a drive with a friend.”
“Don’t tell him,” Tansy urged. “Don’t.”
“Why not? She was driven away by a gentleman that she knew. She called him James. Go tell him that. I guess she didn’t leave a note or anything.”
Eustace went up to relay the message.
Moments later, Hannah and Tansy were shocked to hear heavy, fast footsteps pound down the stairs and the Earl of Worthington burst into the kitchen.
“Eustace told me you saw my wife get into a car,” he said abruptly.
“I didn’t—” Hannah saw Tansy make eyes at her and shake her head. Then she realized Tansy feared the earl would find out she had been slipping out to meet this man. “One of the maids did and she told me.”
The earl frowned. “Why didn’t this maid come forward upstairs when I asked if anyone had seen my wife?”
Hannah had to think quickly—because of course, it hadn’t been an upstairs maid. “She was outside when she shouldn’t have been. She was scared she would get into trouble.”
“Who was driving the car?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t know, either. But Lady Worthington called him James.”
“What did he look like?”
Hannah had no idea. She looked desperately at Tansy.
“This is very serious.”
“My lord, will you promise you won’t get the maid into trouble? You won’t dismiss her?”
“If someone knows something, I need to hear it now,” he said angrily.
Hannah shuddered. She was going to lose her place for Tansy. But the earl wasn’t only angry, he was frightened. She could tell. “Don’t get her in trouble. It was my job to discipline her, and I failed. She wanted me to keep her confidence. I’m going to break it, so I should pay.”
He looked at her in surprise. Then said, “I won’t fire the girl. Who was it?”
“Tansy, my lord.” Hannah pointed at the cowering, white-faced kitchen maid.
The earl went over to her. “You’re not in trouble, Tansy. Just tell me what the man looked like. Where were they going?”
Tansy looked down more demurely than Hannah had ever seen. “He said he’d take her to the farm. She wanted to fetch Dr. Campbell first. He has black hair and he’s a gentleman. I never knew his real name. But he drives a beautiful car. Dark red and all covered in shiny chrome. And she called him James.”
Hannah swallowed hard. “This man—he’s been showing attentions to a girl when he shouldn’t have done.”
Tansy made a strangled sound, but Hannah knew she had to go on. His lordship had looked concerned about this man, and Hannah knew he was a bad sort. “He lied to the girl about who he was. Made her false promises. I thought maybe her ladyship should know about this gentleman.”
The earl stared at Tansy—at her lovely blue-black hair. “Tansy, were you the girl? You aren’t in trouble—you won’t lose your job. I need your help. Desperately.”
“Yes. I didn’t do anything really naughty, I swear. He used to take me driving.”
“Where did he used to take you?”
Tansy tried to explain it, but she didn’t know the surrounding land. Hannah did and she could guess where it was from Tansy’s confused description. When she told the earl, he lifted her hand and kissed it!
“Thank you. Both of you.” With that, the earl ran to the stairs. He grabbed the banister and took the steps three at a time.
Tansy tried to stir again, but began to cry. Hannah told her to sit down. As she brewed tea, Eustace came by her. “That was bally good of you, Han—Mrs. Talbot. Protecting Tansy when she was doing something so daft.”
Hannah looked up in surprise to see Eustace regarding her with a soft, caring look in his eyes. The way he used to look at Tansy. But she was a cook now, happy with her career, and she knew Eustace had been wounded by Tansy’s interest in another man. His attentions to her might be coming from his hurt pride. Anyway, she was quite happy with her future as a cook. She wasn’t ready for a romance. But she prayed everything was all right with the new ladyship. Why was the earl so afraid?
* * *
Cal almost crashed into David, who was wheeling his chair down the hall, hands pushing on the rubber wheels.
“Cal, what’s wrong?” David asked.
“Julia’s gone. She’s been taken.” It had to be the Duke of Bradstock. Julia had called him James. And Bradstock had wanted Julia. Was that why he took black-haired women? Fear beat like a pulse in Cal’s head.
David stopped rolling. “Julia got a note—”
“I know. I saw it. She went with the Duke of Bradstock in his car.” Had Bradstock and Lord John Carstairs been abducting and murdering young women together? “I think he has killed women who looked...” God, his legs went weak with fear. “Like Julia.”
David’s face whitened. “We’ve got to find her—” He looked down at his artificial legs. “What can I do?”
“Stay here. I think I know where he’s taken her.” He was praying he was right. If he wasn’t, what else was he going to do? Combing the countryside would take forever. There weren’t many roads, but they covered a hell of a lot of land.
“I’ll send everyone else out looking that I can, Cal. I’ll call the village police station. That I can do,” David said.
“Thank you,” Cal said. He gripped his brother’s forearm. There were a lot of things he’d always wanted to say to David. For some reason, he needed to say them. Fast. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get enough money to save our mother. I’m sorry I was too late to save Father. I’m sorry I didn’t keep you out of danger in battle—”
“None of that is your fault so shut the hell up, Cal. Go and get your wife.”
Cal ran out to his car. Maybe he wanted to say those things because it was likely he wouldn’t see David again. If he couldn’t save Julia, he was going to kill Bradstock. Or die trying.
Christ, he had to save her. But his gut was like lead, his heart like ice. He had been too late to save his father. Too late to protect his mother.
He couldn’t be too late now.
* * *
The fields stretched around her. Julia was on her hands and knees, hidden by the wet grass, terrified to make a sound. She heard Bradstock stomp through the grass. Moving away from her.
What was she going to do? She could double back to the car.
Cal had told her she was brave. She thought of Ellen Lambert being completely vulnerable, driving an ambulance through shelling. She owed it to all modern women not to be a coward.
Staying low, Julia ran back to the car. Wincing at the sound, she opened the door and climbed in. He would know where she was as soon as she started the car. As soon as the engine caught, she shoved the pedal to the floor. The engine screamed and the car lurched forward. Almost giddy with hope, she went a few feet, clinging to the wheel with hands that were frozen with fear.
A sound, sharp and explosive as a gunshot, made her scream. It came from the front of the car. The wheel moved funny. The steering wheel jerked in her hand. She’d hit a hole and buggered up the front of the car. She was moving downhill. The tire was flat, but still turning.
The lights picked up Bradstock as he reached the edge of the track. Showed the vicious fury on his face as he ran out into the track in front of her.
To escape she was going to have to run him down.
If she didn’t, he’d kill her.
She had to do it. She couldn’t leave him alive to kill anyone else.
She accelerated—
No, she couldn’t do it. She took her foot off the accelerator, slammed on the brake. The engine stalled. The car stopped.
Oh God. She was a fool. She thought of Zelda Fitzgerald’s words. She was an utter fool—a softhearted one. Strangely, she still heard the rumble of an engine. It sounded far away, lost in the rising fog. It couldn’t be her engine.
Then the sound disappeared. Her imagination?
Bradstock slammed his hand on the hood of the car. He didn’t seem aware of the low, soft sound of a motorcar—so she must have dreamed it. Rage emanated from him. Slapping his hand along the hood of his car, he prowled toward her.
She had no weapon. She was more scared than when Ellen’s attacker had come after her. Her hand was still clutched around the key.
The key—
Julia pushed the car door open. It was a barricade between her and him as she scrambled out of the car. She ran several feet, then he grabbed her arm and jerked her back. He pulled her with him back to the car. Flung her against the hood. She cried out as she slammed into the metal.
He was on top of her, trying to force her arms back. She drove her knee at his vulnerable place. He howled. He didn’t let her go, but his grip slackened. She broke her hand free and scratched his face with the key.
He roared. “Bitch!” His palm cracked against her face.
“You were the one. The one who tried to take me outside Ellen’s cottage.”
“You were spending so much time with Worthington. I was so angry with you,” Bradstock snapped. He wrestled to get the key out of her hand. She hung on like a hunting dog. His hand wrapped around her wrist, forced it back. The key fell out of her hand. She looked desperately down the lane—
There was something there.
The beams of light illuminated a silver motorcar coming up the track toward them. She yelled, “Help me! He wants to kill me!”
Bradstock swung around, just at the moment the other car stopped and a large male shape jumped out. The lights picked up golden hair. Then Cal’s face, contorted with a viciousness she’d never seen on it. He lunged for Bradstock. His fist sliced across Bradstock’s face. He punched again, right into the duke’s face. Bone crunched.
Bradstock hit back. She saw, in the light, silver in the villain’s hand. The blade of a knife. “Cal, look out.”
Bradstock stabbed wildly at Cal, but Cal blocked his every attempt. Cal fought like a man possessed. Better than a prizefighter.
She looked for a weapon. Something to use on Bradstock to protect Cal... Heavens, Bradstock would have a shovel in the boot. She could threaten him with that.
But as she slid along the side of the motor toward the boot, Bradstock let out a roar as Cal snapped his wrist back. The breaking sound echoed across the empty field. The knife glinted as it fell to the ground.
One more punch to Bradstock’s face sent the fiend reeling back. His huge, broad-shouldered body slumped bonelessly over the hood of his motorcar.
“Julia.”
Cal’s arms went around her, engulfing her in warmth, in safety.
“How did you get here?” she whispered. “I thought—I was certain I—”
“Hannah convinced Tansy to tell me she saw you get into Bradstock’s car and where he used to take her. Bradstock used to take her out in his car. I guess because she looks like you.”
Hannah. Tansy. The women in the kitchen had helped save her life.
“I was scared I was too late,” he said gruffly. “When I saw the car headlights coming toward me, my heart just about stopped. But when I saw him outlined in them, I knew you’d gotten behind the wheel. You almost saved yourself, you smart, smart girl. But you couldn’t run him down, could you?”
“No. I simply couldn’t bring myself to do it. It wouldn’t have been right. It wouldn’t have been cricket.”
Cal laughed huskily, with a catch in his voice. His arms tightened. He laid his cheek against her head. “You even tried to escape a killer in a ladylike manner. What am I going to do with you?”
“I wasn’t all that ladylike. I scratched his face with his key.”
He kissed her. His mouth took hers in such a fast, overwhelming passion, she was literally lifted off her feet. When he set her down he said, “You should have gone for his eyes.”
She shuddered. “Cal, I’m sorry. I’m just not that ruthless.”
“You don’t have to be. You’re perfect, Julia. Perfect in every way. God, I love you. I love you with all my soul. And thank God, you’re safe.” He hugged her to him. “David telephoned for the police. They should arrive soon. Then I’ll take you home.”
She could hear the sounds of cars roaring up the path. “Home to Worthington? It is our home, Cal. Truly, it is.”