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And then she saw something that made her frown. It was Carl. He was out in the garden on his cell phone, deep in conversation. Normally this wouldn’t have been a cause for concern but after what he’d overheard who knew what he was up to? He could be on the phone this very minute telling his father the news. Golden could just imagine that man’s reaction if he found out.
But then she shook her head. There was no need to worry. After all, he couldn’t stop her. What could he do but rant and rave? He’d been happy when she’d kept saying she would never marry Lord Mountbatten. He knew what that would mean for him. But to now find out she was getting married after all? He would hit the roof. Except that she wouldn’t be under this roof when he got home. She would be long gone and safely by the side of her husband-to-be.
She just wished Carl would hurry up and leave.
Golden paced the floor then she went to perch on the window seat then she picked up her purse. This was not working. She would have to leave now, whether Carl was there or not. She just hoped her mother would keep him occupied so he would stay put and not follow her.
She went downstairs and just the thought that she would have to pass him on the way out made her grow tense. She was pleasantly surprised when she saw him by the front door, helping her mother into her coat.
“Carl is taking me out to lunch,” Eugenia said, beaming. “He said it’s his turn to give me a treat for a change. And then he’s taking me shopping. Isn’t that sweet?”
“Wonderful.” Golden returned her mother’s smile but she was watching Carl’s face, trying to figure out the smug expression there. She did not trust this man one inch. Why was he being so nice to her mother? Something was afoot.
But there was no time to worry about that now. She just wanted to see the back of them and then she would head out herself.
“Off you go,” she said and went over to give her mother a kiss on the cheek. “Have fun.” She waved as Eugenia and Carl went through the door.
She’d already turned and was heading toward the kitchen for a quick check that her mother had turned off the stove when she heard the front door open.
“Forgot my keys,” Carl called out.
Golden didn’t even bother to answer. She just kept on walking. Soon she heard the engine of his souped-up Peugeot roar to life and then she heard the car heading down the driveway and onto the road.
Finally. With a sigh of relief she went back to the foyer and grabbed her purse from the hall table then she went through the door, closing it firmly behind her. She glanced at her watch and smiled. Still good timing. Reed had secured a four o’clock appointment with the judge and it was just a little after one. Plenty of time for her to fight the traffic into the city and grab some lunch before meeting Reed at the judge’s office.
Still smiling, she climbed into the car, stuck her key in the ignition and turned it on. At least she tried to. Nothing happened. She turned the key again. Still nothing. What in the world was going on? Golden turned the key one more time. Silence. Not even a rumble.
Worry rising inside her, she opened the car door and got out, her mind racing the whole time. Had her battery gone dead? Had the alternator gone kaput? Her car wasn’t exactly what anyone would call ‘young’ but so far it had been pretty reliable, so what was going on all of a sudden?
She lifted the hood and peered in. She had no idea what she was looking for but she couldn’t just sit there in the car, waiting for a miracle. She had to do something.
Her eyes fell upon a flat panel that somehow looked bare. Suddenly realizing what was wrong, her heart lurched.
Now she knew why her car wouldn’t start. Her battery was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
God help me. Golden threw her hands up and slapped her cheeks, the words flying out in a loud gasp. Someone had sabotaged her car. Carl Manchester.
At the thought of the snake Golden scowled and her nostrils flared with fury. If she could get her hands on him right then she would gladly strangle him.
He’d done this to stall her. She was sure of it. He wanted to trap her at the house until his father got there.
It was not going to work. Marching around to the passenger’s side she flung the door open and grabbed her purse. She would call Reed. Although he would have to struggle through traffic to get out to the house there was no avoiding it. He would have to come and get her.
She flipped the latch on her purse, reached in and pulled out house keys, tissues and her driver’s license. There was no cell phone to be found.
Holy Moses. Golden’s mouth fell open. He’d stolen her cell phone, too? No, it couldn’t be. How in the world could he have gotten her purse? And then she remembered. It had been on the hall table when he’d come back in search of his keys...or so he’d said. Now she knew he’d come back into the house for another reason, a diabolical one...and she was his victim.
For a moment she felt faint. How could he be so evil? Closing her eyes she drew in a deep breath, summoning her courage about her. Stay calm, Golden. It will be all right.
Clutching her purse to her she slammed the car door shut and hurried back to the house. She had to call Reed. Things were suddenly looking a lot more serious and she needed to be away from this place as fast as possible.
She went straight to the sitting room which was where she would find the closest phone. Her breathing shallow with worry, she picked up the receiver and began to dial. She was greeted by a loud and ominous silence. No dial tone.
Heart pounding, Golden returned the receiver to its cradle. Carl had cut her off from contact with the outside world and now she was frightened. What would happen next?
She drew in a few slow breaths, trying to steady her nerves. Okay, Golden, what to do now? Think. She could walk to the neighbors and borrow their phone but this was the drawback of living out in the country on what used to be a turnip farm. The nearest neighbor was almost a mile away. She looked down at her feet. There was no way she would make it in slippers. On the gravelly road they would give out after the first few hundred yards.
Her mind made up she turned, ready to hurry back to her room to get her running shoes when she heard a bang and a loud wail. Her heart leaped to her mouth. Sir Winston. She would know that wail anywhere. Chest tight with fright Golden hurried in the direction of the sound, breathing a prayer that Sir Winston was all right. Had Carl hurt her beloved pet? She didn’t know what she would do if he came to harm.
The sound had come from the cellar. Golden went straight there and without hesitation she pulled the door open and flipped on the light. “Sir Winston, are you all right? Where are you, hon?” She heard not a sound. She started down the steps, peering into the dimly lit room. “Come here, baby. Mummy’s here now.”
She’d hardly gotten the words out when she heard a loud bang and whirled around to find the cellar door slammed shut. “Hey, what are you doing? Who’s out there?” Golden raced back up the steps but by that time it was too late. She grabbed the knob and twisted and turned but it was no use. It would not budge.
“Let me out,” she yelled, pounding on the door. “Let me out of here.”
She pounded and pounded but there was no answer. Finally, exhausted, she turned and sagged down onto the top step. She was trapped and now there was no chance of her making it to her own marriage ceremony.
As the realization sank in, Golden’s body went cold. Dunstan Manchester had done this. Somehow he’d sneaked back to the house and locked her in the cellar. He’d set things up so he would win. The money would be all his.
At the thought Golden almost had a breakdown but she bit her lip, determined not to cry. She couldn’t let him get his hands on the money. She wouldn’t let it happen, not without a fight.
Golden hopped up off the steps, anger surging through her, and began to pound on the door again. “Let me out, you swine,” she yelled. “Let me out or else I’ll have you arrested. Just see if I don’t.” She pounded and shouted for a full minute before she slumped back down, her fists smarting and her throat sore.
It was no use. Her threats would not make him yield. She would have to approach this from a different angle. If he wasn’t going to free her then she would have to free herself.
But how?
She got up from the steps and as she descended her eyes skimmed the dimly-lit room. There were boxes piled high in one corner, broken furniture in another and in the middle was an ancient sewing machine, one that didn’t need electricity because it was powered by a foot pedal. There were trunks full of clothes and linen, a standing lamp with a shade from which dusty beads dangled and there was a fuzzy couch. But the walls were solid rock, not a window to be seen. Although she hardly ever came down here Golden could swear she’d seen a tiny window somewhere. She pushed her way behind the pile of boxes, looked up and there it was. The only passage through which natural light could enter the room.
“Yes,” she yelled, laughing out loud. “Dunstan Manchester, you lose.”
