The kidnappers had left a note with strict instructions – he would be dead if the money was not left at the abandoned Elderberry Abbey precisely at midnight. It had also stated that he would be killed if she told anyone.

“Pardon me, Lady Wolseley, Miss Marissa seems in distress and she’s asking for you.”

Paulina turned away from the fire, her long scarlet skirts swirling about her ankles.

“I’ll be right there.” She told the young governess with the stricken face. Nodding, the woman left the room. Taking long breaths, Paulina tried to compose herself. She pinched her pale face to bring back some lively colour and then quickly went to her daughter’s room.

“What is it, my child?” She spoke gently to the small bundle under the covers.

After lighting a candle, she sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the five year old closer to her. Marissa’s eyes flickered open and she moaned. “Don’t let them hurt Father.”

Paulina’s heart lurched. What was her child saying? Trying to remain calm, she bent over her and whispered soothingly: “You’re having a bad dream, my Dearest.”

Marissa’s gold curls bounced lightly against her forehead as she shook her head violently.

“You mustn’t let them do anything bad to him, Mother.” The blue eyes blinked slowly.

It was clear the child was half in and half out of sleep.

Pressing dry lips against the warm cheek, Paulina kissed and hugged the child.

“Hush, Marissa May. Hush now. All is well.”

A tiny hand groped its way free from the mountain of covers and nestled into her palm.

“Promise?” Marissa’s voice was faint, and it appeared she was giving in to slumber once more. Kissing the precious fingertips, her mother promised.

The governess was asleep now as were the rest of the servants. It was an hour before midnight. The fire blazed, orange and yellow flames dancing wildly to a demonic chant only they could hear. Paulina gazed into the heart of it as if seeking answers.

“Help me!” She pleaded her fists pressed to her bosom.

On the footstool in front of a wingback chair stood a satchel filled with ransom money. She’d counted it herself. She had taken it from the wall safe hidden behind the enormous family portrait in the grand ballroom. She would have given everything to these faceless cowards to get her husband back. They could have the house and the jewels too for nothing was as dear to her than Jacob’s life.

“Paulina.” It was his voice. She whirled around nearly stumbling.

“My Love!” she blurted into the silent room. “Are you alright?”

“Listen to me, Paulina.”

Jacob’s voice was closer and when she turned to the fireplace, she shrank back, hands pressed to her mouth, eyes wide.

There against the backdrop of fire was a wavering image of her husband’s face. A spasm of fear tore through her body like she’d been pierced with a dagger. Did this mean he was dead?

“Go now,” Jacob’s voice continued. “Ride Fearless and take the short cut. Bring Jonesboro with you. Tell him to be armed.” He gave the instructions quickly and clearly and then with a snap of flame he was gone.

Pulling herself together, Paulina grabbed the satchel, hitched up her skirts and ran to the stables to do his bidding.

Jonesboro was shocked when he opened the door to find Paulina had been the one fiercely pounding on it.

“Lady Wolseley!” He stepped back, holding the ends of his tattered nightshirt down while not trying to drop his candlestick. She seemed not to see him as the story of her husband’s kidnapping tumbled from her lips in a flurry of words.

“I beg of you, I need your help.” Paulina was practically on her knees in front of the stupefied young stable-hand that’d been in their employ since he was a lad of ten.

He gathered his clothes from the back of a high back chair.

“Give me five minutes, Lady Wolseley and I’ll meet you in the yard.”

“Bless you.” Thanking him, she left the room. Jonesboro saw her standing alone in front of the horse stall where he had saddled the black steed, Fearless. She looked like a figure from a tall tale; dressed in black from head to toe with a huge black hooded cape fluttering about in the wind.

“My Lady – he began but she raised a finger to her lips for his silence.

“Please listen to me, Jonesboro,” she whispered as she handed him the satchel. “You will ride behind me hidden under the folds of my cape.”

Swallowing hard, he bobbed his head up and down.

"Now, hear me carefully.”

Leaning into him, she poured instructions into his ear.

The night was freezing and the air had the scent of snow but neither Paulina nor Jonesboro noticed. They were on a mission. Fearless pounded along the path that led to the short cut by the cliff. It was a dangerous route and therefore rarely traveled but it would take them to the broken down abbey in far less time. Fearless was aptly named. Nothing made him flinch. Jacob had bought him as a foal, recognizing the good qualities the horse possessed even then.

An owl hooted at the nighttime intruders but the only sign that Fearless had even heard it was the twitching of his pointed ears. Somehow he felt the urgency in the riders on his back. Once on the rocky cliff path, Paulina kept her eyes fixed straight ahead. A false step and they would plunge down into the frigid, turbulent waters of the sea to a certain death. Her lungs were filled with cold air and her heart was beating very fast. Jonesboro clung to her like a monkey. She knew Jacob had asked her to bring him because he was an expert marksman but she hoped that there would be no need for gunfire.

The crumbling walls of Elderberry Abbey became visible against the indigo sky and for the first time, Paulina saw stars glowing softly in the heavens.

Was this is a sign?

She did not want to think. She gave herself a mental shake and urged the horse onto the grass where it’s footfalls were cushioned. When they were close enough, she slid off the horse with Jonesboro and tied the reins to a tree. From here on, they would have to go on foot. It was too risky to carry a torch so they had to walk swiftly yet carefully towards the old convent. The large wooden doors were closed. A rope hung loosely on one side and higher up fastened against the wall was a rusted bell. Paulina dropped the satchel and Jonesboro took out his gun. She motioned for him to go around to the back of the building.

From the pocket of her skirt, she took out Jacob’s pocket watch. It was ten minutes to midnight. Then she heard the hooting of an owl. Only this time, she knew it wasn’t an owl. It was a signal. At the same time, she pulled on the rope but to her chagrin, the battered bell had lost its clapper and silence was her answer. With her gloved hands, she began to ferociously pound on the door. Her heart nearly gave out when the door opened and she heard a shot echo through the abbey.

“Jacob!” she screamed automatically. Nearly tripping over the body at her feet, she ran blindly into the abbey where weak candlelight illuminated the filth and vermin inhabiting the abandoned abbey.

Two more shots rang out and then someone grabbed her hand, shouting ‘Run!’ It was Jacob!

Breathless, they finally stopped in the safety of the forest where Fearless whinnied softly.

“Paulina, my Darling.” Jacob covered her face with kisses, his arms bound around her like he never wanted to let her out of his grasp.

“How? How did you manage this?”

“With your help. With your message,” she told him, enthusiastically returning his kisses. “I thought you were dead when I saw your face in the fire, my Love.”

Jacob’s hold on her loosened and she saw the disbelief on his face. “Of what message do you speak? I was a prisoner. I was not able to help you.”

Their eyes met as she struggled to understand what could have happened. As they stood together, Jonesboro came upon them, leading a brown mare. He smiled when he saw his employer was hale and hearty.

“Jonesboro, my man,” Jacob clapped him heartily on the back. “I owe you many thanks and you shall be finely rewarded.” Jonesboro was glad the dark of night hid his furious blush. “Thank you, Lord Wolseley,” he stuttered.

“I have the satchel.” He was about to hand it over but Jacob shook his head. “No. It is yours. I know it will never be enough to repay what you have done.”

The young man’s jaw dropped. “But I can’t accept – “

“Yes, you can,” replied Paulina, closing her hand over his. “Thank you, Jonesboro.” Speechless, he mounted the horse to return home.

“Shall we?” Jacob helped Paulina onto Fearless and then hoisted himself behind her. He closed his arms around her, enjoying the fact she was nestled so warmly against him.

“I know who it was who helped you.” He told her as the horse began to trot.

“No. Don’t say it.” Paulina shook her head. “I won’t believe it was the Wolseley ghost.”

“But it was, my Dearest.” Jacob laughed into her hair. “It was. It had to have been.”