'Truly, I am perfectly content to wear my yellow gown again,' Sarah assured her. 'Even if I did accept your offer, and I am most grateful to you, please believe me, I should probably never have occasion to use such a gown at home. Aunt Nell does not attend balls, and it would be a waste since I will doubtless soon have to return home.'
Clarinda was wearing white, a delightful watered taffeta with a low round neckline and ruffles of delicate lace. It was trimmed with pale blue velvet bows, and she wore blue velvet slippers. She made an enchanting picture as she entered the room where the dancing was to be held, and was soon surrounded by attentive gentlemen. Sarah, in her yellow gown, and with a black lacy fan which Mrs Middlewick had presented to her, admonishing her to accept it on pain of everlasting offending the good lady, also found many friends, and soon both girls were besieged with prospective partners.
*
Sarah had exchanged only a few words with Sir Charles during the first part of the evening, although he had danced twice with Clarinda, when he appeared at her side just before the supper was announced.
'Yellow suits you,' he complimented her. 'You can wear bolder colours than Clarinda. She is so fair only the palest shades are becoming. She has attracted many admirers,' he added as he looked across the room to where half a dozen men were vying for the honour of sitting beside Clarinda at supper.
'She is lovely,' Sarah replied.
'Incomparably,' he agreed, but absently, and Sarah looked at him. His gaze was fixed on Clarinda and there was an odd speculative gleam in them. Suddenly he turned back to her. 'She is the only child, from what Mrs Middlewick told me. I imagine she has lived a lonely existence. Have you stayed with her frequently?'
Sarah blinked, and then realised he still thought them to be cousins.
'I never visited London when she lived there,' she prevaricated. 'I live with some relatives of my father and only knew Clarinda when she came to live at Forleys. The – ' she paused, and then amended what she had been about to say. 'The house we live in is nearby, you see.'
'I rarely stayed at Forleys, and knew little of the country round about. It was to have been mine when I reached the age of five and twenty, so James made his home more in Yorkshire than there.'
'Yours? But then he could not have staked it,' Sarah said swiftly. 'Oh, dear, I beg your pardon, but I heard – that is, your brother, I understand – '
'He lost it at play,' he interrupted curtly, and she blushed with mortification that he should think she gossiped about him. 'He had the right,' he went on in a low voice, 'because of the way my father had left it in his possession. He lost it, but no one knows to whom, except one of the servants claims to have seen the man remove his wig, and he had lost part of an ear.'
'And you suspect Sir Gilbert?'
'He certainly sold it to Mr Middlewick, but the records that exist merely show that he himself bought it a year earlier. Who owned it before that is not known, and the man who won it sold it almost immediately, it is believed. Nothing can be proved.'
'He might only have pretended to sell it, or sold it through an agent and then bought it back,' Sarah said thoughtfully.
Sir Charles laughed. 'It is all speculation, but you are even more suspicious than I! What has poor Sir Gilbert done to offend you?'
'I – do not like him,' she replied slowly. 'He offered for Clarinda.'
'He offered for your cousin?' he said sharply. 'Did she accept?'
'She is afraid of him, and she refused, but he said he meant to ride to Forleys and ask her father's permission.'
'He will not give it, surely?'
'He was prepared to allow her to wed an even more unsuitable man just because he had a title, even though he was not rich,' Sarah pointed out.
'What does Mrs Middlewick say?'
'She will support Clarinda, I think, although she does not think Sir Gilbert as unpleasant as we do.'
'Then it is hoped some more eligible offer is made before Mr Middlewick arrives. I take it once he knows from the busy Sir Gilbert where Clarinda is he will come to Harrogate?'
'Certainly. He has been once, but we were delayed,' she said, with a glance up at him through long, dark lashes, 'and had not arrived.'
'How you must be wishing to praise whatever it was that caused the delay,' he said smoothly, and she chuckled. 'Will your uncle force you to return home too?'
'I shall return with Clarinda,' she replied, the laughter gone from her voice.
'Do you not wish to? Are you revelling in the parties here so much?'
'We do not entertain much at home,' she said briefly. 'Aunt Nell, my guardian, lives very quietly.'
'I see. Then you must make the most of the few days left to you. Will you come riding with me tomorrow?'
*
Sarah was sorely tempted, but shook her head. If she went once it would be impossible to refuse the offers of financial assistance Mrs Middlewick continued to press on her. Besides, after refraining for so long it would look odd to suddenly join Clarinda and her friends in their rides on the common. But it was difficult. She longed for the feel of a good horse beneath her, and the wind tearing at her while they galloped across the common, and sometimes further afield on the wild moorland nearby which Clarinda had seen on some longer expeditions, but which she knew only from the latter's descriptions.
'Thank you, but I have much to do in the house,' she said abruptly, and he did not press the invitation.
Sir Charles danced with Sarah, and they made a striking couple, both tall and slim and graceful. Then, as she was claimed by other partners, she saw he had returned to Clarinda's side and was talking with her for a considerable time.
Sarah was feeling depressed after talking of Mr Middlewick's probable appearance, and the end of this fascinating interlude in her normally uneventful existence. She slept badly and after dozing fitfully fell into a heavy sleep just before dawn. She was feeling sleepy and had a headache as they sat at the breakfast table, and did not listen to much of the conversation, only nodding when Clarinda chattered excitedly about the ride Louise had planned for that day.
'It is a ride of almost three hours to Pateley Bridge, and we shall not be able to go much further in one day, but Louise assures me the Nidd valley is exceedingly pretty below Pateley Bridge as well as further upriver.'
'I am not sure I should permit you to go so far,' Mrs Middlewick said slowly.
'Why, Grandmama, it is perfectly safe. Louise has several other friends going, including a number of gentlemen. And I may not have another opportunity if Papa arrives soon,' Clarinda pleaded, and Mrs Middlewick pursed her lips and agreed.
They waved goodbye to Clarinda and half a dozen more riders, and then Sarah spent a restless day, finally slipping out of the house in the hope a brisk walk across the common would banish her megrims. She was just passing Louise's hotel when, to her surprise, she saw one of the men who had been in the riding party that morning.
'Good afternoon, Miss Smith,' he greeted her, dismounting.
'You are back early,' she said, puzzled. 'It is only three, and I did not expect you back until supper time. Is my cousin with Mrs Erskine?'
'Yes, they left us at Summer Bridge,' he replied cheerfully.
'They left you?' she repeated blankly. 'What do you mean?'
'Oh, I thought you knew. Most of us were only going a short distance to see them on their way. It is a delightful ride. I was tempted to continue with them, but I had an engagement here in the morning that I could not break.'
'I see,' Sarah said slowly, her mind racing her dreaded speculations. 'Who remained in the party?'
'Besides your cousin and Louise? Captain Gregory and Mr Bright, and Sir Gilbert Woodford, who met us at Summer Bridge.'
'Sir Gilbert?' Sarah asked apprehensively. 'I did not know he was back in Harrogate.'
'He is not, precisely. He went straight to his house to set it in order for the visit, and then came to meet us. It is in a rather isolated, secluded spot, I am told, difficult to fi
nd without a guide.'
'Where is this isolated place? I did not realise the moors were so vast,' Sarah said, trying to speak lightly.
'Some miles past Ramsgill, I believe. I do hope your cousin enjoys the visit.'
'Indeed, so do I,' Sarah said faintly, and then rather abruptly bade him farewell and turned to hasten back towards home.
*
Chapter 7
Before she reached it, however, she had decided against telling Mrs Middlewick her horrifying suspicions. It would only worry the old lady, and she would be unable to do anything to help. Stopping in her tracks Sarah thought desperately about who might help, and the image of Sir Charles and his attentiveness to Clarinda sprang to mind. With a gasp she turned again and ran as quickly as she could to his lodgings.
'I wish to speak with Sir Charles Orde,' she gasped to the maid who opened the door, and almost shook the wench when, instead of replying, she merely gaped at the sight of a young lady, breathless and dishevelled, clinging to the door post while she drew painful breaths.
'Sir Charles?' the girl eventually repeated.
'Yes. I must see him. Pray tell him Miss Smith is here and must speak with him.'
'I can't do that,' the girl said slowly.
'Can't? Why not? I am certain he will see me if you say it is important!' Sarah almost shouted at her.
'I can't,' the girl repeated, shaking her head several times.
'Oh, get out of my way!' Sarah fumed, and began to push the startled girl aside.
She had almost reached the stairs when the girl spoke again.
'You can't see 'im 'cause 'e isn't in 'is room,' she said triumphantly, and Sarah swung round to her furiously.
'Then why the devil didn't you say so?' she demanded. 'Where is he?'
The maid shrugged.
'I don't know. Out. He'll be back before supper, most like,' she suggested, and Sarah grasped at this straw.
'I must write him a note. Quickly, bring me writing materials.'
With aggravating slowness the girl produced a quill and a bottle of old, thick ink, then a small sheet of paper. Sarah seized them and wrote rapidly for a moment, then almost cried with frustration as the quill nib split. Snatching the quill away from the girl, who obligingly offered to take it to the kitchen where she could find a knife to mend it, Sarah broke off the loose part and scribbled on, praying the message would be legible, scratched and blotched as it was. But she dare not delay, she had to find other assistance.
Leaving the note with the girl, promising her a reward if she gave it to Sir Charles directly he appeared and dire vengeance if she forgot, Sarah set off again. She had recalled Jacob Burnside telling her they kept a pair of horses for the use of visitors to their hotel, and she went there as quickly as she could. Even if the horses were being used they would be able to find her another from one of the livery stables.
She was fortunate to see Jacob when she was still a hundred yards from the hotel, and he stopped in amazement to see her running towards him, waving anxiously to attract his attention.
'Miss Sarah! What ails you?' he demanded.
'Clarinda, I fear she has been abducted,' she gasped, clutching his arm. 'I beg of you, get me a horse and bring it to Mrs Middlewick's house. I must follow her. It is Sir Gilbert,' she added, seeing his bewilderment. 'He wants to marry her, but she will not have him. He's taken her to his house near Ramsgill. I must follow.'
To her immense relief he did not try to argue.
'I'll come with you,' he offered immediately, and she smiled at him gratefully. 'I'll bring both our horses, they are fresh.'
'Put men's saddles on. I'll ride in breeches,' she remembered to tell him, and wasted no more time but turned and ran back to Mrs Middlewick's.
*
Avoiding her hostess she sped upstairs and changed quickly into Robert's clothes once more, then went down and started back to meet Jacob.
He had two powerful looking beasts, and before he could dismount to help her Sarah had swung herself up into the saddle.
'Which way?' she demanded, and Jacob, swallowing his amazement that a female should dress in men's attire and ride astride, and so competently, turned and led the way towards the lower part of the town and out of it the far side, up hills Sarah had not previously climbed.
Jacob waited until they were out of the town before asking Sarah more details. Briefly she told him what she knew, and that while Clarinda disliked Sir Gilbert, they believed he had in the past acted dubiously.
'I will kill him if he has harmed her,' she said fiercely, patting her pockets, and Jacob eyed the suspicious bulge with sudden apprehension.
'Is that a pistol?' he demanded.
'Of course it is, I would not set off without one, knowing that wretch to be there.'
'Can you use it?'
'I have used it,' she replied impatiently. 'My cousin taught me to use a gun years ago.'
'Your cousin? Clarinda?' He was flabbergasted.
'Of course not. My cousin Robert. Come, we must ride faster, they are so far ahead, and we shall never get there tonight at this slow pace!'
'We won't reach the farm tonight at all, I'm thinking,' he said quietly when they next slowed their mounts to a trot.
'Not? How far is it past Pateley Bridge? That is three hours away, is it not? We should be there by seven, or even earlier. Thank heaven it is high summer.'
'It will take us another two hours, for the way is exceedingly rough, along the valley.'
'It will still be daylight when we get to Ramsgill.'
'But you know only that he lives near there, and the house is difficult to find. It could be impossible to find someone who knows it, or is willing to guide us to it.'
'We must. We cannot leave her at that villain's mercy all night,' Sarah retorted, and urged the horse into a gallop again.
The way grew steeper and rougher, and Sarah, forced to ride more slowly, grew more and more impatient and worried. They reached Pateley Bridge eventually, and Jacob, showing an unexpected streak of stubbornness, insisted on dismounting to snatch a bite of food and a tankard of ale. While Sarah, unable to eat but welcoming the ale, fretted to be away again, Jacob questioned the landlord of the inn.
'Yes, two ladies and three gentlemen did come through. They stopped here for a while,' he replied, but when questioned further did not know their names, nor did he know the whereabouts of Sir Gilbert's house.
'At least we know they were not hurrying,' Jacob said when they were once more on their way.
'That makes no difference if we cannot find the house,' Sarah said pessimistically. 'Poor Clarinda, she will be terrified. We must find her tonight.'
Just before they entered the village of Ramsgill Jacob's horse stumbled, and then refused to go on. When they dismounted they found he was lame and could only with great difficulty be persuaded to hobble further.
'Stay with him, you can get him to the village slowly,' Jacob said. 'I will go on with your horse. I will find a cottage where you can stay the night if there is no inn.'
'I am not staying here!' Sarah declared.
'The horse will not carry the two of us, it is tired already. And you will come to no harm,' Jacob began, but Sarah interrupted him.
'I am not afraid, but I must reach Clarinda! Goodbye, and thank you for all your help.'
Before he could reply she had galloped off, and Jacob, helpless, began to follow slowly with the injured horse.
*
Sarah rode into the village and hailed a pair of ancients sitting on a bench outside the inn.
'Can you tell me where Sir Gilbert Woodford's house is?' she asked, and as one shook his head slowly the other cupped his ear and leant towards her.
'What's that?' he quavered, and Sarah suppressing her impatience with great difficulty, shouted down to him. He frowned, then grinned and nodded.
'Aye,' he uttered at last. 'He be the fine gentleman from London town, I'm thinking.'
'Yes,' she bawled at him.
&
nbsp; 'I can hear ye,' he said petulantly. 'There be no call for ye to shout.'
'Please tell me where he lives,' she pleaded.
'Were that the fellow rode through early on?' his companion interrupted.
'Were there two ladies with him?' Sarah asked quickly, turning towards the other man.
'Oh, ah, I think so, but my eyes be not so good as they used to be. Seventy-five, I be, come All Saints. Or do it be seventy-six? I disremember.'
'Where is the house?' Sarah asked again, and to her relief the deaf one appeared to have heard, for he turned and pointed.
'Up past Jenny Twigg.'
'No, it ain't so far,' the other demurred. 'Not if you be meaning the old house, past the fall.'
'How far?' Sarah demanded.
'Through Bouthwaite yonder, and up onto t'moors. There be a track towards Jenny and Tib, and another leading down a bit. That goes to the gentleman's house.'
'Thank you,' Sarah threw over her shoulder, already setting off. She wondered briefly who Jenny and Tib were, but soon dismissed them from her mind and concentrated on not missing the track, for the summer dusk was beginning to fall.
She had reached the top of the slope out of the hamlet of Bouthwaite, and was about to urge her tired horse to another effort when she heard another horse behind her. Thinking that Jacob might, in some miraculous fashion, have acquired another horse, she looked behind, and a glad cry broke from her.
'Sir Charles! Oh, thank heaven you have come!'
'Do you have directions to the house?' he asked, wasting no time on greetings, and she nodded.
'Another track which leaves this one, going slightly downhill, the men said. I do hope that they were right. They were so slow!'
He gave her a brief, encouraging smile, and as they rode along she told him the story as she knew it.
'Louise must have been in the plot,' she said indignantly. 'I have been thinking, and I wonder whether she did not make friends with us on purpose. How despicable!'
He did not comment, but his face was grim as she strained to read his expression in the gathering dusk.
'Why the devil did you start off without me?' he demanded as soon as she had finished speaking. 'It was a confoundedly stupid thing to do!'
Highwayman's Hazard Page 8
