‘Stop her!' screeched Hannah, helping Phineas to his feet. If she was going to jump, it must be now.
Phineas came roaring forward and made a grab for her just as she swung herself over the sill and dropped into the darkness below. Her heart had time to lurch up into her mouth, but no more. Instead of the bone-cracking jolt of hitting the ground, she found herself caught in a pair of strong arms. There was a grunt as someone took the full weight of her fall and she heard a dear, familiar voice mutter, ‘Faith, sweetheart, must you be always escaping from windows?'
Chapter Twelve
‘Ross!' With a sob, she threw her arms about his neck. ‘What are you doing here?'
Steadying his breath and uttering up a prayer that she was not hurt, he set her on her feet.
‘I've just arrived from York with a party of officers to arrest your father. We came to the back of the house to make sure there was no means of escape and saw you at the window. When I realised what you were going to do I thought I should try to catch you.' His arms tightened. ‘Foolish girl, you might have broken your neck.'
‘I had to get away.' She shuddered against him. ‘They w-were going to c-cut off my hair.'
He buried his head in the heavy locks falling over his hands, breathing in that subtle fragrance that was all her own. He loved her hair, but the idea of her risking her life to save it brought the rage boiling up.
‘Your hair will grow again, but your neck would not mend, little idiot!' Immediately he regretted his harsh tone and held her close. ‘Ah, love, forgive me, it is not you that deserves my anger. Come along, let us go into the house. The true villains should be under arrest by now.'
* * *
Charity was thankful for Ross's strong arm supporting her as the men with him forced the door into the house and they made their way up the service stairs. Anxious servants were pushed aside and two men detailed to round them up and explain what was happening. When they reached the main floor, raised voices could be heard in the drawing room. Ross held her back as the others surged towards the door.
‘If you would rather not-'
‘No.' She gave him a tremulous smile. ‘I want to see this through, Ross. I am no longer afraid of Phineas, not anymore.'
They went in to find the magistrate standing in the middle of the room, his wrists shackled, and Hannah slumped on the sofa, sobbing quietly.
‘Ah, so this is the young lady you told me of, Ross.' One of the officers limped towards her, smiling. ‘Captain Armstrong at your service, madam. Thanks to your efforts we have stemmed this flow of secrets out of the country.'
‘So Phineas was spying.'
‘Yes,' affirmed Captain Armstrong. ‘The Admiralty had set up an embargo around Yarmouth and was watching the coast for signs of anyone trying to send information out of the country, but they only made cursory checks on the cross-country mail, and no one questioned the mail sent to a magistrate in Beringham, innocuous family letters that attracted no attention at all until you spotted the discrepancies, ma'am.'
‘I don't understand,' put in Phineas. ‘What has she to do with this?'
‘Mrs Weston memorised that last letter you received from your supposed brother,' said Ross. ‘She knew it was lies, that you have no family.'
‘But how did she see it, when-?'
‘When she came to see me,' said Hannah, slowly. ‘The witch inveigled her way in here and I left her alone in the study. But only for a moment. Phineas, I swear it was no more than five minutes.'
Secure with Ross at her side, Charity spoke up.
‘That was all I needed. I wrote it all out as soon as I could.'
‘And Durden brought it to me.' Captain Armstrong grinned. ‘The navy can move fast enough on land when it has to. That letter was sufficient for us to arrest the French spy in Yarmouth, and enquiries at Filey soon revealed the fishermen who were carrying the information to France.'
‘So even in this you defy me.' Phineas glared at Charity, his face suffused with rage.
She met his look boldly. ‘Especially in this. But why should you help the French? Why would you betray your own people?'
‘My people? Hah!' Phineas spat out the words. He began to pace the room, speaking almost to himself. ‘This is a godless country. I have known for years that England is beyond redemption. Soon it will be consumed by the fires of hell and Bonaparte will be the means of it.' He stopped and glanced at the incredulous faces around him. ‘You do not believe me? It was Bonaparte who reestablished freedom of worship after the Bourbon king had suppressed it. Bonaparte will ensure that the papists will no longer rule France, nor any of the countries under his dominion.'
‘Nonsense,' said Ross. ‘Bonaparte is using religion for his own ends.'
‘No, I have proof-letters, assurances-that it is so,' declared Phineas. ‘People are free to worship as they please, whereas here, the government is going out of its way to appease Rome!'
‘But is that reason enough for you to turn spy?' asked Charity.
Phineas looked at her in surprise. ‘I am no spy. It is only a matter of time before the Emperor is victorious. I am just doing what is necessary to speed up the matter. The sooner we are united under Bonaparte and this godforsaken government is brought down the better.'
‘And just when did you start helping the French?' demanded Armstrong.
‘Let me guess,' put in Ross. ‘Five years ago, was it not? That is how you came by the money to buy this house and turn yourself from a poor preacher into a wealthy magistrate. You turned traitor, took French silver like a Judas. How do you reconcile that with your conscience?'
Phineas shrugged. ‘It is the Lord's work and He moves in mysterious ways. I merely passed on the information when it came, and the money I received I made use of. I am helping the emperor restore righteousness to the world. I will be acknowledged as the new St Cuthbert, bringing light-'
Ross uttered a snort of derision.
‘You deluded fool, you would betray your fellow countrymen for that?'
‘What would you know of it?' snarled Phineas. ‘True Christians will revere me-it was because of my efforts, my exhortations, that the emperor did away with the Republican calendar last year-'
Charity shrank closer to Ross, staring in horror at her father's crazed face.
‘He is insane.' She whispered the words, but Phineas heard her and drew himself up.
‘I am the Lord's instrument. I have turned Beringham into a God-fearing place-'
‘You have turned it into a drear, despondent town where people are afraid even to smile,' retorted Ross. ‘The poor resort to illegal drinking dens and mills, while those who can afford it go to Allingford for their entertainment.' He put his hand on Charity's shoulder. ‘And even there you would deprive them of their brightest star. But no more.' He stepped back. ‘Take them away, John. The game is up, Weston. You and your wife will stand trial-'
‘Not me!' screeched Hannah, jumping to her feet. ‘I knew nothing about his spying.'
‘But you colluded with him in every other way,' retorted Ross. ‘You schemed with him to ruin me-'
‘He forced me to it! Phineas wanted Wheelston. He came to me when I was nursing your mother, told me to run it into the ground so he could buy it cheaply.'
Captain Armstrong grinned at Ross.
‘There's your proof, Durden. A confession in front of impeccable witnesses.'
Hannah flew across the room and threw herself against Ross. ‘He forced me to give you up, Ross. He forced me to bring the blasphemy charge against you, he told me what to say, which phrases would do most harm, and he paid Sir James, and Keldy and Hutton to bear witness-'
Ross put her away from him, saying with contempt, ‘And did he force you to marry him, too?'
‘Yes! How could you think I would prefer him to you?'
‘Easily, since he was so rich.'
Hannah clutched at his hand and gazed up at him.
‘I was frightened of him, Ross. Terrified. But now he is found out and I shall be free, free to come back to you-I have always loved you.'
He shook her off and turned away. ‘Pray do not shame yourself even further, Hannah. Anything I felt for you died a long time ago. You killed it.'
‘So you will go back to that slut! She is a servant, the contract is signed, you will have to wait seven years for the harlot-'