Page 64 of A Sense of Fate
If Melanie wasn’t too afraid to remember what Flora had told her, which was to concentrate hard upon Remus when she had need of him, then hopefully his flimsy image was the result of remaining close to Melanie and simultaneously trying to guide Flora to her. His ghostly apparition would be stretched to the limit. Her suspicions were confirmed when she reached out to him with her mind, but got nothing back.
‘Damn it, where are you, Melanie?’
Flora felt fear trickle through her entire body, temporarily paralysing her. She had come to depend on Remus more than she realised, but even he couldn’t be in two places at once. All her senses told her that Conrad must be responsible for Melanie’s abduction, a conclusion that was reinforced by her fresh interpretation of her grandmother’s diaries, even if she was unaware what part Conrad played in her father’s machinations.
There was no time to stop and think now. Every second counted and could mean the difference between saving Melanie or leaving her exposed to Conrad’s passionate desire for revenge—against her, but especially against Archie. If he listened to village gossip he would be aware that Archie had appointed himself Flora’s protector and had doubtless misinterpreted the nature of their friendship.
She would like to believe that Conrad had taken it upon himself to snatch Melanie with the intention of taking her back to Cathedral Close, but there was something dark about the man’s aura that made her shudder. He was utterly without honour and Melanie was at his complete mercy. Flora had to find her.
And she was on her own.
Elroy was surrounded by spineless idiots. If Latimer continued bleating on about the risk and insisting upon changing their arrangements, then Elroy wouldn’t be responsible for his actions. Of course, Elroy reasoned, the man still fooled himself into thinking he was doing God’s work.
Ha! Elroy laughed aloud. The man was delusional—a sadist who enjoyed absolute control. Well, in fairness, everyone connected with their endeavour was of that persuasion—everyone except Elroy himself, of course. He was in it for financial gain, plain and simple.
And the enterprise had become very lucrative since Elroy had involved himself in the arrangements. He’d show his brother that he was more than capable of making his own fortune. He didn’t need handouts that came with massive caveats about his behaviour and work ethic. Coutts was an outdated establishment that had refused to move with the times. Anyone with an ounce of intelligence could see that, but Elroy’s suggestions for modernisation had been met with blank stares. Coutts, he had been told starkly, maintained high standards and did not follow the same path as thehoi polloi.
He was surprised that his profitable little sideline had been rumbled. It had come as a bitter blow, since he thought he’d covered his tracks well while getting one over on the old duffers. It had been demeaning to get booted out of Coutts, but at least they’d kept his dismissal quiet; worried as ever about their precious reputation. His stuffed shirt of a brother had something to say on the matter, of course, whining on about demeaning the family name and tarnishing his reputation as a politician, but Elroy was immune to criticism in general and his brother’s disapproval in particular.
The position he now held afforded Elroy the respect he deserved, to say nothing of a far greater degree of freedom than he had enjoyed at Coutts, where every second of every day had to be accounted for. Things happened for a reason, he thought. Having a new situation so close to Latimer allowed him to exert more control over the enterprise. Someone had to hold their nerve and expand their horizons. It also meant that he was closer to his hated nemesis, Archie Felsham, whose dismissive attitude he had never been able to put behind him, not even when he thought the man was dead. It gave Elroy a certain perverse satisfaction to have arranged their latest gathering on Felsham’s doorstep.
Latimer hadn’t been best pleased about that, and had complained interminably about taking unnecessary risks. It was too late for that now. The meeting of minds had been organised for the following day, and those attending had already paid the increased fee that Latimer thought would be beyond their means. Ha! How little he understood human perversion. These men were addicted and would pay whatever was necessary to feed that addiction at regular intervals in private whilst showing themselves as respectable family gentlemen to the world in general.
Latimer and Elroy would be rich beyond their wildest expectations if they carried on for a while longer. There was no shortage of the necessary material, which came at a cheap price. Then the Archie Felshams of this world would think twice before looking down at Elroy. Times had changed and new money was no longer considered vulgar. His own brother had been accepted as a member of White’s, no less—that last bastion of male exclusivity and old money—rather proving Elroy’s point. He himself wouldn’t be satisfied until he had amassed enough wealth to make it impossible for the committee to ignore his own application for membership.
Elroy swaggered through Lyneham, aware that his presence would be reported back to Felsham and would annoy him. He was due to check the arrangements for the following day, but there was no rush. He doffed his hat to a pretty young woman pushing a perambulator. She smiled at him and her cheeks turned pink, partially restoring his good humour. He still possessed the ability to charm, even if Flora Latimer’s head had been turned by a cripple who still thought of himself as a rake.
His mood soured by thoughts of Felsham, Elroy saw a sight that made him stop in his tracks and blink to make sure that he wasn’t hallucinating. There was no mistake. Flora Latimer’s pretty maid was walking down the street with Melanie Latimer, a little girl holding their hands and tottering along between them. It was fate, Elroy decided, darting out of sight beneath a shop’s canopy. An opportunity for Elroy to restore Latimer’s younger daughter to him and make the cleric even more indebted to him. Elroy would prefer to get his hands on the delightfully impertinent Flora Latimer. He would have enjoyed teaching her a few lessons in manners and returning the favour by poaching on Felsham’s territory, much as Felsham had done by stealing Magda Simpson from Elroy.
But still, beggars could not be choosers, and this would be a lesson of sorts too.
He watched the small party as they paused at a shop window to admire the goods on display. The street was busy and Elroy quickly rethought his wild intention of abducting the child. These villagers were loyal to Felsham. Melanie wouldn’t go with him willingly, Elroy would be recognised if she kicked up a stink and he didn’t want to chance his arm. The business he had going with Latimer was too sweet to risk exposure but even so, the desire for revenge against Felsham burned through his insides like acid.
What was life without a few risks? He’d learned to grasp opportunities when they presented themselves and this one was simply too tempting to resist. He’d outsmarted Felsham before and could do it again.
Yet he hesitated, and was weighing up the possibilities when Melanie dashed across the road, directly towards Elroy, who momentarily thought that he had been seen. At the same time the maid looked the other way and Elroy acted on impulse. He grabbed Melanie’s hand and dragged her into a side alley before she had a chance to realise what was happening.
‘You!’ She glanced up at him and tried to snatch her wrist from his grasp, but he was too strong for her. She dug her heels in and resisted him with all her strength, screaming at the top of her voice. But the alleyway was devoid of human presence in the middle of a working day and Elroy had acted so quickly that no one on the main street had noticed a thing. If they had, he would have heard them coming after him by now.
‘Be quiet and come with me like a good girl, or it will be the worse for your sister. A friend of mine has just now gone to pay her a visit.’
Melanie’s eyes were as large as saucers and he got a thrill from her fear. ‘You wouldn’t dare! Lord Felsham will cut you in two.’
‘Lord Felsham is welcome to try, but he can barely stand up. Now come along and don’t be difficult.’
He prodded her in the small of her back and she stumbled forward, almost losing her footing. Elroy grabbed her upper arm hard enough to make her cry out and dragged her into an empty barn with a sagging roof that was situated at the end of the alleyway and on the edge of farmland.
‘What are you going to do now?’ Melanie appeared to have recovered from her initial shock and sent him a combative look that made Elroy scowl. She was supposed to be petrified, not challenging him. ‘You haven’t thought this through, have you? If you imagine that I will go with you willingly, then you are delusional. You saw me on the street and acted on impulse. So I ask again, now what?’
‘Now we wait for your sister to find you. Then the three of us will have a little discussion about familial duty.’
‘You are a fine one to talk,’ she said, elevating her nose.
How the devil did she know…She couldn’t possibly, could she?
The ground was muddy inside the barn, where the sleet and rain had penetrated the sagging roof. Mindless of the muck, Melanie sank down onto a crate and ignored him. She closed her eyes and Elroy sensed she was concentrating hard. But on what? They were close to the village yet isolated from it. If she decided to shout then no one would hear her.
He found it interesting and, if he was honest with himself, a little disconcerting that Melanie immediately invoked Lord Felsham’s name. Perhaps he would come in search of Melanie in person. Elroy hadn’t supposed that would be possible, given his disability, but cheered up no end at the prospect. Itwould be a case of retribution long overdue.
