The Makings of a Lady

by Catherine Tinley

  ‘Pah!’ retorted Will in disgust. ‘As if! This pony is not fast enough for me, but it is the only one that they will let me ride—yet.’ He eyed Olivia’s mount. ‘She’s a sweet ’un—I’ve seen John canter with her when she’s exercising and she loves to run.’

  ‘I know!’ said Olivia with a grin. Suddenly, happiness bubbled over inside her. ‘I have to gallop, Will! I shall wait for you at the gate.’

  She gave the horse its head and they galloped down the drive. The drive was muddy after overnight rain and her progress was almost silent as she glided along the road, feeling again the sense of exhilaration that had woken her so early. Will, despite a valiant attempt to urge his pony into something better than a fast trot, was soon lost from view.

  As she approached the gate, she was surprised to see a carriage, and people, up ahead. Pulling the horse up before she could be noticed, she took in the scene.

  The Mannings’ carriage was stalled just outside the gate, almost off the road, as if something had frightened the horses and they had bolted. Further progress was being impeded by a skewbald horse, with markings like strange eyebrows. A man was standing close to the horse—an enormous figure and one that was entirely familiar. Olivia’s stomach clenched in fear.

  It was Gunn—and he was holding a shotgun trained on George Manning! They had to have been here arguing for some time—it was almost half an hour since she had heard the carriage leave.

  George was standing to the side of the carriage with his back to Olivia, and his sister was visible inside the carriage, her gaze fixed on the tableau of her brother and his adversary.

  George and Gunn were deep in conversation, it became clear, about a matter of money.

  ‘I care not,’ Gunn was saying. ‘I did what you told me and I am still waiting to be paid!’

  ‘And you shall be paid!’ said George smoothly. ‘My situation is a little delicate at present, but I shall be happy to sign you a note of promise.’

  This suggestion did not, it seemed, meet with Gunn’s approval. He raised the shotgun a little higher.

  Open-mouthed, Olivia worked it out. It was George who had paid Gunn to kidnap her!

  ‘You reprehensible snake!’ she cried. ‘It was you! You arranged it all!’

  Despite the immediate threat of a shotgun pointed at his head, George immediately spun around. The startled look on his face gave way to calculation, then slyness.

  ‘Well, well, it is Lady Olivia!’ Walking forward and completely ignoring Gunn—who looked more than a little bemused at this turn of events—he took hold of the mare’s bridle. ‘This is most fortuitous,’ he said softly. ‘I do believe you may have just saved my life.’ Without turning, he roared, ‘Gunn!’

  ‘What?’ Gunn’s expression was sullen.

  ‘Luck is with you. We have been given a second chance to hold Lady Olivia for ransom. Come here!’

  ‘No!’ Olivia urged her horse to move, but George held fast to the bridle.

  ‘Do not let her escape this time!’ Miss Manning’s voice, hard and shrill, added to Gunn’s orders. Slowly, he began to lumber forward.

  ‘Gunn!’ said Olivia desperately. ‘Do not be part of this! My brother will pay you to keep me safe from this man!’

  ‘Do not trust her, Gunn.’ George spoke with urgency. ‘You have told me of your hatred for the gentry. Do not be fooled by her.’

  Gunn was now beside her, huge and terrifying. Olivia trembled, finding herself unable to speak. All of her fears—the terror she had experienced—it was all real again.

  ‘The gentry think only of themselves,’ Gunn pronounced. ‘How will I be sure you will pay me this time?’ he asked of George.

  ‘This time,’ said George confidently, ‘I myself shall ensure that she does not escape until her brother has paid me—paid both of us!’ Gunn’s expression did not change. ‘It is our only prospect of money now.’

  Miss Manning jumped down from the carriage. ‘He’s right,’ she urged softly. ‘We can demand a huge ransom this time, for they know we are serious.’

  Gunn paused, considering. ‘Very well,’ he told George. ‘But if we don’t get the money, I will turn you in to the magistrate myself. Both of you,’ he added, eyeing Miss Manning.

  Wordlessly, he reached up and pulled Olivia roughly from the horse. She shrieked and struggled, but the enormous man seemed not to notice.

  ‘Put her in the carriage!’ Miss Manning ordered.

  Gunn complied and, as he shoved her inside, Olivia caught a brief glimpse of the coachman, who was slumped on his seat, blood seeping steadily from a cut at his temple. Gunn must have hit the man hard after holding him up with the shotgun.

  Shaken, and even more determined to escape before more harm could come to her, Olivia dived straight across the carriage and opened the other door.

  ‘Why, thank you, Lady Olivia!’ George blocked her exit with his imposing frame, pushing her back inside before climbing in. Miss Manning was behind her and together they forced her into a sitting position between them.

  ‘I must say,’ said George smoothly, ‘I do admire your habit of riding without a groom!’

  Will! Cursing herself for her stubborn foolishness, her first thought was to protect the child. If he came upon them, he would likely interfere, in a misguided attempt to rescue her. And Gunn might shoot him! He must be almost at the gate by now. She bit her lip. Hopefully he would have the sense to hide.

  Gunn finished tying his horse, and Olivia’s, to the back of the carriage. Moving round to the driver’s seat, he hefted the coachman down and carried him to nearby undergrowth, where he unceremoniously dumped the poor unconscious man. Olivia watched in open-mouthed shock. It was like a nightmare come to life!

  ‘Oh, yes,’ murmured George in her ear. ‘It would be a mistake to underestimate our friend Gunn. He will do whatever he must. Now, just you sit still and do what you’re told until we get our ransom, then you can go back to your brothers and that arrogant bastard!’

  She glared at him. ‘I am sure I have not the faintest idea who you mean.’

  ‘Ha! Do you think me stupid? I saw you making calf eyes at the dashing Mr Ford. You must have enjoyed seeing him humiliate me. Well...’ he rubbed his hands together gleefully ‘...now the tables have turned and you are quite in my power.’

  Deliberately, he leaned forward and ran his finger down her face. Unable to help herself, she shuddered and flinched. He smiled—it looked like he was enjoying her distress.

  ‘George!’ Miss Manning’s sharp tone called his attention. ‘Tell Gunn to hurry and get us out of here!’

  As she spoke, Gunn jumped up to the driver’s perch and, a moment later, they were on their way. Olivia felt sick with terror. She closed her eyes and prayed, but she knew not how she could escape this time. At least Will was safe—and might raise the alarm more quickly than the Mannings anticipated. How long would he search for her when he failed to find her at the gate? How long after that before help could follow?

  The answer came immediately. Too long. It was only three miles to the main road, after which there were any number of side roads and tracks where they might lose themselves for days. Once past the crossroads, the Mannings would have a head start that would make it difficult for anyone to trace them. Which meant imprisonment, messages about ransoms and possibly days of surviving George Manning’s anger. For it was clear to her that this time, his motivation was not just ransom. It was vengeance.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jem nodded at his reflection, then turned to Foxley’s valet. ‘Thank you, that will do.’ He intended to be ready to walk with Olivia just as soon as she returned from her morning ride.

  The servants had informed him that Lady Olivia had risen early and was riding. They had also confirmed, to his relief, that Mr Manning and his sister had already departed in their carriage.

  Jem was cons
cious of a feeling of satisfaction. Manning had been exposed for the charlatan that he was and Olivia, seemingly, had not, after all, been in love with him. Indeed, she had seemed to put Manning out of her head after the distressing incident in the parlour and had spent the next two hours with him.

  Their waltz had set the tone. In Jem’s case it had brought him back to the feeling of harmony and intimacy he had shared with Olivia during their kisses. This time, though, there had been no interruptions to make him review and question, and doubt.

  He knew without hesitation that Olivia saw him differently now. Gone was the friendly distance that she had offered him when he first arrived last month. In its place was a shared heightened awareness, fuelled by warm looks, as much touch as they could get away with in a ballroom and an awareness that she was as focused on him as he was on her. Finally, things would be clear between them. He meant to declare himself today—and he no longer worried about rejection. He simply knew, in his heart, that she felt as he did. He was also very confident that Adam would approve.

  ‘No! I must see him! You must let me find him! Which chamber is his?’ The sounds of an altercation came to his ears through the door. ‘Sir! Master! Help! It’s the lady!’

  A terrible dread overcame him. He opened the door wide—to see Will, further down the landing, struggling with one of the footmen.

  ‘Sorry, sir, I tried to stop him.’ The footman was clearly embarrassed that a stable boy had penetrated the house and was attempting to enter a guest’s bedchamber.

  Jem ignored this. ‘Tell me!’ he commanded Will.

  ‘It was Gunn—I saw his horse.’ Will was breathless and clearly distressed. ‘He has a shotgun. He put the lady in the carriage with the people who left early and they took her away!’

  The footman was aghast. ‘Which lady?’ he asked, but Jem already knew.

  Will looked directly at him. ‘Same one as he took before. Your lady.’

  Jem’s blood ran cold. For a second, he could not think, or speak—just like last time. Then, his mind refocused, working much faster than usual.

  He addressed the footman. ‘Lady Olivia has been taken. Tell the gentlemen—her brothers and Mr Foxley. I shall go ahead and try to catch up with them.’ As the footman ran off, calling the butler’s name, Jem turned to Will. ‘How long ago?’

  ‘Not more than a quarter of an hour. I came straight here—though the pony was slow. The coachman is knocked out and lying in the bushes.’

  ‘Well done, Will.’ He dropped a hand on to the boy’s shoulder. ‘Now go and get the fastest horse in the stables saddled for me. And tell the grooms to go immediately to assist the coachman.’

  ‘Yes, Master!’ Will vanished at top speed, leaving a trail of mud, Jem noticed absently, all along the expensive carpet.

  Turning to the valet, who was hopping from one foot to the other in great distress, he asked ‘Where does your master keep his pistols?’’

  * * *

  George and his sister were making plans. ‘We simply need a barn where we can hide out for a few days, until they pay the ransom,’ said George. ‘We shall continue in the same direction as originally planned, then find somewhere along the way to hide.’

  His sister wrinkled her nose. ‘I suppose we shall be forced to live like peasants then, even if only briefly. If this stupid chit hadn’t escaped the first time, we’d have had the ransom money already!’

  She glared at Olivia, who refused to be daunted and glared back. Incensed, Miss Manning slapped Olivia hard across the face. ‘Foolish girl! You are the cause of all our troubles! If you had stayed in that cellar like you were supposed to, or if you had agreed to marry George, we would even now have been safe. How dare you destroy all our plans!’ She tried to slap her again—but this time, Olivia blocked her hand.

  ‘You little idiot!’ spat Miss Manning. Her expression was so filled with rage that Olivia, once again, was genuinely frightened. Bracing herself for another physical attack, she could not help cowering away from the woman, but thankfully, Miss Manning subsided. ‘I shall not allow you to divert me. George, we shall need food and blankets, and something to tie her up with.’

  ‘We must be careful about the ransom letter, too,’ he added thoughtfully. ‘We do not know the area well, it might be difficult to choose where they should leave the money.’

  She nodded. ‘First things first. Let us get safely hidden, then plan some more.’

  Olivia was aghast. She could barely take it in. That they could just sit there, planning coercion and extortion, without any evidence of regret or even awareness of the evil of their actions! Despite her fear, she could not be silent.

  ‘How can you do this? Gunn has hurt the coachman and you are kidnapping me! Where is your morality? Have you no conscience?’

  George’s lips thinned. ‘You must understand, Olivia, that we would not do something like this unless we had no other choice.’ His brown eyes pinned hers with seeming sincerity. Olivia was no longer fooled by it. ‘You saw for yourself that Gunn intended to kill me,’ he continued, seemingly oblivious to his own wickedness. She was not having it.

  ‘Nonsense! There is always a choice,’ she retorted. ‘You could let me go, right now, and I will alert the magistrate about Gunn hitting that poor coachman. Just divert Gunn for a moment and I will jump out.’

  Miss Manning laughed. ‘What a ridiculous notion! No. We shall continue with our plan. As if a green girl could know better than us!’

  Olivia looked questioningly at George, but could tell that he had not even considered listening to her suggestion. ‘No. You will do what we want, or it will be the worse for you.’

  Her mind was working furiously. ‘Tell me something,’ she said. ‘When Gunn kidnapped me before, at the tea room, how could he have known that I would be there, unattended?’

  ‘Ah!’ said George. ‘I had brought you to that very place, as I knew that the privy was across the yard. Gunn was told to wait in the stable and take his chance if it arose.’

  ‘But—’ Olivia was confused. ‘It might not have been me. Amy or Lizzie might have needed the privy instead.’

  ‘That is true,’ said George, ‘but the beauty of my plan was that it really did not matter which of you he managed to get—all three of you have wealthy relatives who would happily pay a ransom.’ He looked infuriatingly self-satisfied as he said it. ‘Getting you was a bonus!’

  Olivia let this sink in. ‘So you did not target me particularly?’

  ‘Yes and no!’ said Miss Manning, seemingly enjoying the opportunity to display what she probably thought was cleverness. ‘Any of you would have served our purpose, but you were our preferred target. George was going to “rescue” you as soon as the ransom had been paid and use your gratitude as part of his courtship of you. That was, in fact, your idea!’

  ‘My idea? What on earth are you talking about—oh!’ She remembered the foolish conversation they had had about being rescued by a dashing hero. ‘But that was not serious—you cannot think me so stupid and superficial that I would decide who to marry on the basis of his happening to find me first!’

  ‘Actually, I do think exactly that!’ said Miss Manning. ‘You are what—nineteen?’

  ‘Two and twenty,’ said Olivia firmly.

  At least while we are conversing like this, she was thinking, no one is hurting me and I am also discovering something of their plans.

  ‘Precisely. Green, childish and unworldly. Most maidens would be swooning at the thought of marrying George.’

  Not me, thought Olivia, but she bit the words back.

  George laughed. ‘My darling, clever Emma told me how you wished to be rescued and I fancied myself your rescuer. It is just the sort of thing silly young girls like you fall for.’

  Olivia could hold back no longer. ‘Except I didn’t fall for it. Or you,’ she said bluntly. ‘But why do you call your siste
r “darling”?’

  He gave a short laugh. ‘Because,’ he drawled, ‘in truth she is not my sister.’ He and Emma looked at each other.

  Olivia could not, for a moment, understand this. She looked from one to the other and suddenly she saw what she had not seen before. ‘Not your sister? She is—oh!’

  ‘Quite. Oh, your naivety is astounding!’ He reached across her and lifted Miss Manning’s hand to his lips. They looked at each other as he kissed her hand lingeringly. For the second time since they had abducted her, Olivia shuddered.

  Her mind was reeling. What sort of man was he? And if Emma was his paramour, how come she would permit him to—?

  ‘If he had married you,’ said Emma, clearly reading her thoughts, ‘he would only have shared your bed the one time to eliminate the possibility of annulment, as I said last night. It would have been worth it, for all we stood to gain.’

  Olivia shook her head. She could barely take it in. She felt as though the ground were shifting beneath her, as if the world had suddenly turned to sand.

  Yet she knew now exactly how strong she was. She had survived the ordeal with Gunn, she had learned of her own inner strength while supporting Charlotte and, somehow, she knew that she would survive this. Though waves of terror were threatening, so far she had managed to hold them off and keep her mind functioning.

  A chance to escape would come, she thought. And she would be ready to take it. She had to—because a life with Jem was waiting for her. The thought caused belief to course through her. That was the prize. She was vaguely aware that, in her determination to make her own choices, to set her own path, the last vestiges of girlhood had left her. She was a woman, fighting for her future.

  * * *

  Forcing himself not to panic, Jem dismounted just outside the gate. According to Will, this is where Olivia had been taken. The carriage, and the people in it, could be none other than the Mannings.

  Jem was berating himself. Why had he not worked it out? The previous kidnapping had been their first attempt to extort money from Olivia’s family. He had suspected Manning was a liar—and had even felt guilty about holding such an uncharitable opinion. Last night the Mannings’ plan to charm Olivia—or trap her—into marriage had further demonstrated their lack of integrity. Why had his mind not made the leap to the kidnapping—a hitherto disturbing, unexplained and altogether confusing incident?