Page 75 of The Artisan and the Duke
Jules smiled. “That would be nice,” she said quietly as she followed Fredrick back out the door to the porch.
Sure enough, just past the porch steps, two wooden doors were set into the ground. Fredrick took a deep breath and bent over to grab one of the wooden doors while Jules grabbed the other. They heaved the heavy wooden doors open and peered into the darkness.
“I’ll go grab the candle from the study,” Jules said quickly. “Just wait, yeah?”
Fredrick nodded and sighed as he leaned heavily on his cane. By the time Jules made her way back out, Fredrick had lowered himself onto the porch steps and was resting his leg there. She put her hand on the man’s shoulder, “Are you certain that you don’t want to remain here? I can yell if I need anything.”
“I might have half a leg, but I am not half a man,” Fredrick said as he levered himself up to stand once again.
Jules frowned at the man and shook her head. “You have nothing to prove to anyone, Fredrick,” she reminded him.
“I know that,” Fredrick said then he shrugged, “I am just anxious to find Gregory and be away from here. It feels like if I move that it will happen faster.”
Jules nodded and agreed, “I understand the need to do something. Well, let’s go see if we can’t round up that husband of mine.”
The two of them turned to the cellar. Jules went down first because she had the candle. Fredrick followed her carefully down the steps.
The wooden steps creaked and groaned with their weight, but thankfully they held. Fredrick cursed a few times as the steps were slippery with the pervasive dampness of the cellar.
When they got down to the bottom of the steps, they saw the root cellar was lined with shelves, wooden floor, and wooden walls. There were no signs of Gregory, but there were some scuff marks on the floor. “Look at that,” Jules said as she pointed down to the ground at the marks. “It looks like someone was dragged through here.”
“Yes, but where did they go after they were dragged? There is literally nothing here that would hide a person,” Fredrick said in dissatisfaction as he looked around the room. “Did you hear that?”
They both stilled and listened. A low, almost imperceptible keening seemed to be coming from the walls. Jules followed the noise and found that where the trail of scuffs ended at the wall was where the sound was coming from.
“Fredrick, I think there is someone or something in the wall,” Jules said. She was afraid of what they might find, but she helped Fredrick feel along the wall for anyway to pry it open.
“Here,” Fredrick said as he was able to get some grip on the wooden panel. Jules did her best to help but found it to be not much as she could not get a grip on the panel.
The wooden panel finally creaked, snapped, and then fell out of place. There was a groan and thumping, and Jules shrieked as she fell backwards. “We mean you no harm,” she said with fear.
“Jules?” A low, hoarse whisper asked.
Jules scurried forward and grabbed the person to pull them into the candlelight that had fallen on the floor. “Gregory,” Jules said in victory as she recognized the man. “You are alive,” she gushed with relief as she wrapped her arms around the man.
“Boris, where’s Boris?” Gregory asked as he winced from the force of his wife’s embrace.
Fredrick picked up the candle even if it was of little danger on the damp floor. He said, “Boris is in London, and I do not think you will like what he has had to say.”
***
Lady St Claire stepped up to the manor door and took off her gloves as she waited on Olly to put the carriage away. She had been out all morning trying to get a feel for who Boris had told his story to and just how much of it people were willing to go along with. She had been rather dismayed to find that Boris’ impending marriage with the Marquis’ daughter had swayed a lot of her fellows to throw their lot in with Boris, even though only a few of them actually believed the story that was being touted as truth.
William opened the door and frowned, “Are you okay, My Lady?”
“Yes,” Lady St Claire said as she put on a smile. “There is nothing we cannot overcome if we just keep our chins up and our noses clean.”
William nodded. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said as he watched the woman go upstairs to change.
Miss Combs the cook came out of the kitchen. “That the Missus, back?”
“Yes.” William nodded. “She’ll be down for tea soon.”
Miss Combs smiled. “She always takes it at the same time. I do hope the children get back soon.” The older woman’s smile faltered a bit. “I’m a bit afraid for all of us, to be honest, Will. There’s no telling what will happen to us all if what Sir Davenport said comes to pass.”
“I don’t think the boys would stand for their father’s legacy being treated in such a way,” William said, and he gave the woman a pat on the back to comfort her. “Don’t get yourself upset until we know what is going to happen.”
Miss Combs nodded and agreed, “That is always best, but it is hard to keep that in mind.”
