Chapter Twenty-Five
Clarissa wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting, but the sheer speed of the house being invaded and being completely overrun with what she presumed was uniformed men with guns was staggering. The noise of so many pairs of boots swarming through the rooms and corridor and up the stairs had to have tipped Penhurst off. Had Seb anticipated that? Had he planned for every eventuality or was he all alone, held hostage by the viscount and whatever guards were amassed down there?
Not being privy to the final preparations, she had no idea and the worry was killing her. When those heavy boots clattered towards her, she burst out of the closet, intent on telling them to hurry up, not expecting the barrels of six muskets to be immediately pointed at her face.
‘She’s with us!’ Gray pushed to the front as the Excise Men surged down the stairs towards the cellar. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Seb’s down there all alone!’
‘Not for much longer. We’ll get him out safely.’ To prove his point, Penhurst’s guards emerged from the stairwell with their hands on their heads and muskets prodding them between the shoulder blades.
A shot went off, and she panicked, only to hear that the lock had been blown so that the King’s men could file into the cellar. ‘Stay here!’ Gray left her to join the others and, as quickly as they had arrived, Clarissa found herself stood all alone again. Waiting.
She waited a full three seconds before she plunged down the stairs herself. With no clear plan of action other than being there in case Seb needed her, Clarissa followed the men through the cellar and then along the never-ending tunnel beyond. They all gathered at the impasse of the door. Gray stood with his back to the frame and bellowed. ‘We have you surrounded, Penhurst! Open this door and come out slowly with your hands up.’
When there was no reply, he issued another warning, then motioned for one of his men to fire at the lock. He entered first, crouching low, then signalled with his hands. Two more men, neither in any uniform save that of a labourer, followed him inside. A few seconds later they declared the chamber safe.
Once again, Clarissa tacked herself on to the end of the line as they streamed into the hollowed-out cavern. Huge wooden barrels were stacked from floor to ceiling. Another door remained bolted and padlocked from the inside, but there was no sign of Penhurst or Seb.
An older gentleman Clarissa hadn’t noticed before was in deep conversation with Gray and another man. ‘There must be another cellar.’
‘If there is, Lord Fennimore, then I haven’t found it.’ Gray looked baffled. ‘Unless Penhurst took him somewhere else.’
‘It’s possible, I suppose. There are certainly no signs of a struggle.’
At the wordstruggleClarissa instinctively scanned the ground for signs of blood. It was then that she saw something shimmer on the ground to the left. She stepped towards it and bent to pick it up. Seb’s diamond stick-pin. It wasn’t bent or misshapen. It hadn’t been ripped off his cravat in a fight. Instead the little plug at the bottom had been carefully put back on the sharp end of the pin and it had been placed on the ground. Seb had left a clue.
While the men wasted valuable time pondering, Clarissa began to search the area where the pin had been placed, hoping it was significant. Finding nothing, she got down on her hands and knees and began to feel the floor, the sides of the barrels. Her fingers found the latch before she saw it. ‘Over here!’ The barrel was sawn in two, one side was hinged. She pulled it open and revealed a small tunnel leading off it. Not wanting to trail at the rear, she lunged through it first, feeling her way with her arms extended, oblivious of the pitch-black darkness beyond. She stumbled as she hit a staircase and found herself bathed in dim lamplight.
‘Wait.’ Gray’s voice was hushed, but his grip on her shoulder was insistent. ‘If Penhurst escaped through this secret passageway, then we have the advantage. Let’s not spoil that with hasty and ill-conceived rescue attempts. We have the element of surprise.’
They did and he was right. Behind him there was Lord Fennimore and the tall blond man. Both men had pistols in their hands. ‘Leave this to us, young lady.’
‘I’m coming with you.’
‘You will only be in the way.’
‘Did you see the stick-pin? Did you find the hidden doorway or this passageway?’
‘She has a point.’ The tall man smiled. ‘And she probably knows this house and its occupants far better than all of us.’
Lord Fennimore sighed as if greatly put upon. Then shrugged. ‘A fair point, Flint. Make sure she stays safely behind us then.’ The older man pushed past and forged forward, carrying the miserly lantern aloft. ‘Let’s see where this tunnel ends, shall we?’
The narrow passage twisted and turned. In places it was so low they had to drop on all fours to navigate it. After an eternity it branched out into two, but with no point of reference in this dark, subterranean world, it was impossible to know which to take. ‘One has to be an escape route out to the Downs.’ Knowing Penhurst as well as she did, Clarissa knew he would always consider his own skin above all else. ‘The other probably leads back to the house or grounds somewhere.’ Again, if he needed it, the viscount would have a contingency plan.
‘That makes sense. But which would he take?’ Lord Fennimore could apparently read her mind.
‘Penhurst would run for the hills. Seb would want him back at the house—if he hasn’t had to reveal his hand.’ A man who was able to quietly remove his stick-pin and lay it on the ground was hardly a prisoner, or so Clarissa desperately hoped. Seb would play Millcroft to the end because he was stubborn and brave, with emphasis on the stubborn.
‘Then let us assume Leatham has convinced him and headed to the house.’ Fennimore was clearly not one to waste time making decisions.
‘If only we knew which way the house was. Perhaps we should split up?’
Lord Fennimore rummaged in his coat pocket and pulled out a compass. Flipped it open and then nodded left as if it was perfectly reasonable he had the instrument on his person. ‘It’s that way.’
In single file they climbed the steep incline until the older man halted them with a raised hand and swiftly blew out the lantern. Ahead a thin strip of light bled through what appeared to be floorboards. Being the tallest, Flint went to investigate, pressing his eye close to the wood and leaving Clarissa to wait with her heart in her mouth for what seemed like five minutes before returning.
‘It’s the study, I think. Just two men—Seb and Penhurst. It looks like they’re making preparations to leave. Seb is holding open a satchel while Penhurst is stuffing money into it. Seb has positioned himself to shield the hatch, so he’s expecting us, but we’ll have seconds at most. Only Penhurst appears to be armed.’
