A/N: I'm really sorry it took so long to get this chapter up. So I won't bore you with disclaimers and notes.
Chapter Eight: Caught
Lord d'Narley was planning a ball. By the very next morning invitations had been written out to every Lord and Lady, sociably adequate, upper class family in the county, and horses were ready in the driveway for delivery.
He thought it would bring an entire end to Lady d'Narley's poor health, and brighten her.
Every night I ask Claire concerning her plans, she is adamant that she will stay for the ball, but I know her danger staying here. I can only assume she does also, after dwelling with me for sometime after the death of Mr. Brinner in Merry Fellon. I can not persuade her to leave now.
"The best plan is to depart after the ball, it will be safest then, for both of us, we could even go together then," Claire says, walking towards the library.
"We can not go together, at any time. But when you leave, I will follow you," I stop her and take her hands. "Claire, I will follow you." She smiles at me, not taking her hands.
"I know, thank you." We continue walking to the library.
"So when is the ball planned?" I ask, opening the door for her. She enters, and glances back to me.
"Three days, everybody's been invited. Geoffrey thinks it will be a final goodbye to my illness. Too bad Geoffrey didn't think when he was with that maid of his," she sits abruptly down on a chair, not taking a volume from the shelves. I take a text myself, and sit by her.
"Can you arrange a carriage for yourself?" I ask, still very concerned.
"Of course, Lady of the house Ichabod. I only need to keep that from Geoffrey and I'll be fine. Then I'll return it for you. We'll need a tale for the coachman, he would need to verify with my husband first."
"Inform him of an vital meeting with family, the need to disappear quickly," I suggest.
"Yes, good idea," she says. "We'll need to wait for the ball, I'll charge the carriage before the ball, then my things will be ready. The coachman will not be aware of it. I'll leave soon. Do not fear for me, I did not kill Natty to be caught by anyone," she confides in me. The door of the library opens, and Lord d'Narley strides in.
"Well, well, conspiracy I believe?" he asks. We both look up, as if rabbits caught in lamplight. "I did not expect this of you, Constable Crane," he says. "As for you, my wife, I did have my suspicions, and now they have been proved correct. Well, I'll have to inform the police of this, they will indeed hang you for this, Constable Crane, Claire, I can only hope they inflict the death penalty on you also."
"Geoffrey," Claire interrupts his thought. "At least wait til the ball has passed, this would cause great embarrassment upon the whole household, and d'Narley name if this came out to rumor. Surely you can wait until the ball is over to keep up appearances, then, we will go with the police willingly." I stare at her, stricken for a moment. She was willing to trade my life for a ball? I attempt to give my opinion on the subject in discussion at present, but Lord d'Narley simply nods, turns, and leaves the library, perceptibly to alert all servants of our inability of leaving the house.
"You do not hide your sacrifices," I note to Claire.
"I have just acquired us three more days of careful laid plans. He has the power to evict us both presently, and now he will keep us, under this roof, until the ball, where there will be so many guests as we can slip quietly away, do you not have any ideas how many Lords and Ladies have been invited to this ball?" she asks, displaying hints of anger in her voice. I know she is correct in her intuition.
"But now how will we take coach? The coachman will surely be one of the first to be alerted and told not to take us from the house," I argue.
"Then we will walk," she says, her mind resolute. "Or we could ride. Ichabod, we will get out of this house. We will get out of this house alive, I've not come this far as to be caught yet. And for any means, pity will be granted upon me for a fickle husband."