The Highwayman's Daughter

by Henriette Gyland

  ‘I can’t!’ he called back, making his voice high-pitched, like a hysterical old crone’s. ‘You have me frightened out of my wits, and my old limbs won’t move.’

  ‘Step out of the vehicle, now,’ shouted Cora, ‘or your driver’s a dead man! You want that on your conscience, you old bag?’

  Benning whimpered pathetically on the ground, and Jack cried theatrically, ‘Lord, have mercy on us all.’

  ‘Oh, for the love of God!’ Jack heard Cora groan impatiently. She yanked the door open and pointed her pistol into the dark.

  Jack was faster. He caught her pistol arm, pulled her inside the carriage, pushed her flat on her stomach and sat on her, pinning her with his weight.

  ‘What the …?’

  ‘Hello,’ he said pleasantly, ‘we meet again.’

  ‘You!’ Cora hissed.

  She kicked out and fought to get up, but Jack was too heavy for her. ‘No, no, no,’ he said, ‘we don’t play like that, my dear.’ Grabbing her wrist, he wrenched the pistol out of her hand and uncocked it, placing it out of reach on the vermin-chewed seat. ‘There, now we’re all safe and sound. Or, on second thoughts, maybe not.’

  He put his hand under her black cloak and felt for her second pistol; it was tucked halfway down the front of her breeches. His hand brushed against her naked skin, and for a moment he kept it there, enjoying the sensation of her soft, warm belly against his fingertips. Cora gasped.

  Chuckling, Jack pulled out the pistol; then he unclipped her rapier and slung it on top of the pistols. Only then did he turn her over, although he kept her trapped between his legs and her wrists pinned down with his hands.

  Cora snarled in frustration and glared at him. ‘What do you want from me? Are you going to violate me, is that it? How very noble of you.’

  ‘You’re very appealing, but no, not today. As for being noble, well, taking a woman against her will is hardly less noble than robbing honest, hard-working folk at pistol point, don’t you think? No,’ he said, ‘I want to talk with you.’

  ‘Is that what they call it now?’ Cora muttered defiantly. He wondered whether under different circumstances she would have liked to get intimate with him, but he would never do so against her will. He let go of her wrists and eased off her; then lifted her and sat her down, none too gently, opposite her weapons.

  ‘Yes, just talk,’ he said and removed her mask.

  Flopping back against the seat, Cora rubbed her wrists and eyed him belligerently. With his pistol trained on her, Jack stared back, excited and disturbed by her presence. Her eyes blazed in challenge, but he recalled the softer look he’d seen in them on another occasion and knew she wasn’t as indifferent to him as she pretended to be right now. The thought pleased him, absurdly so, and there were a thousand things he would have wanted to say to her, if he hadn’t found himself strangely tongue-tied.

  Unwittingly, Benning came to the rescue. ‘M’lord?’ he called tentatively from outside the carriage. ‘I heard a commotion, and I thought …’

  ‘Everything is in order, Benning. I’ve caught the miscreant.’

  Benning stuck a dishevelled head inside the carriage, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Capital, m’lord, capital! I suppose we’ll be off to the magistrate’s now?’

  Cora’s eyes widened and her whole body tensed, like that of a cat ready to spring. Her gaze fell on her weapons, and Jack placed his hand over them – he knew what she was contemplating, and it would do her no good.

  ‘Not so fast, Benning. This young person and I have some business to discuss. If you’d be so good as to tie his horse to the back of the carriage we can continue along as before. Oh, and, Benning,’ he added, with a hint of steel in his voice, ‘anything you see and hear tonight is strictly between us. Do I make myself clear?’

  ‘Yes, m’lord. I ain’t gonna breathe a word.’

  He handed him Cora’s weapons. ‘You’d better take these, just to be on the safe side.’ He winked at Cora, who glowered at him.

  ‘Right you are.’ With a meaningful look in Cora’s direction Benning dusted down his coat, took the pistols and the rapier, and retreated from the carriage, muttering something about lords and their hare-brained schemes.

  Jack closed the door and rapped on the roof, and soon they were rattling along the Bath Road again. In her corner Cora sulked, but she seemed more at ease now it was apparent Jack wasn’t planning on turning her over to the authorities. He didn’t doubt for a moment that she would bolt at the first opportunity, and he resolved to make sure such an opportunity wouldn’t arise.

  Eventually, curiosity must have got the better of her. ‘Is that my pistol you’re holding?’ she asked with a bad-tempered toss of the head.

  He shrugged. ‘I have yours, you had mine. Let’s not quibble about pistols. Let’s talk.’

  ‘What do you want to talk about?’

  ‘I wanted to pick up our conversation from where we left off earlier,’ Jack replied. ‘I’m quite certain you’re the daughter of my father’s late cousin, and as I’ve said before I believe my father should do right by you.’

  Cora was silent for a moment; then she laughed and for Jack it was as if someone had let the sun in. ‘I must admit, m’lord, you’re not like other noblemen I’ve met. Most lords would wish to forget their illegitimate relatives, if that is indeed what I am.’

  ‘You don’t believe me?’

  Cora regarded him warily, and from what he could see of the changing expressions on her face, she seemed to be engaged in some kind of internal debate. ‘Whether I’m the daughter of your captain, I do not know, sir, but I have good reason to believe that I am the child of Lady Heston. When I was hardly a day old, my father held up the coach in which the lady was travelling. She was feverish and dying and in her addled state she implored him to take me away and keep me safe from her husband. Although what I should have to fear from Lord Heston I can’t imagine. I have no wish to lay any claims to his property. Nor would I be able to.’

  Jack nodded; he had already guessed as much from his investigation. ‘And so you were brought up as the child of a highwayman and a maid.’

  ‘What do you know of my mother … I mean … of Sarah Duval?’ Cora asked.

  ‘I’ve been making enquiries.’

  Sitting up abruptly, she sent him a startled look. ‘Enquiries?’

  ‘Oh, Cora, you must know I have no intention of handing you over to the magistrate. If I wanted to, we would be heading there right now, not chatting amiably in a carriage. And I have no wish to harm your father either. You must trust me in this. You do trust me, don’t you?’

  She was quiet for a while, but then she nodded.

  ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Now, I’ve not shared my findings with anyone. I’m aware that Sarah Duval was accused of having robbed Lady Heston and that there was a reward for her capture when she disappeared. I’m also aware that she’s been beyond reach these past nine years,’ he added gently.

  Cora smiled sadly. ‘It … it broke my heart to see her suffer as she did. One miscarriage after the next. She was so tired and weak, and yet she never complained. Of course, I was only a child, I didn’t understand as much then. Being a family was all she ever wanted, and when her wish was finally granted, we thought …’ She lowered her eyes, and it was some time before she was able to speak again. When she did, it was with a rebellious glare and a toss of her head. ‘I will never think of her as anything other than my mother, regardless of what anyone says.’

  ‘I understand that,’ said Jack. ‘Truly, I do. The bonds we form are not governed merely by blood. But there’s also such a thing as duty.’

  ‘Duty?’ Cora’s tone was enquiring, but he detected a note of disappointment.

  ‘I feel it’s my duty to make sure you’re looked after, as a member of my family. Robbing coaches will only lead you to the end of a rope.’

  ‘Provided you’re correct,’ she countered.

  ‘I’ll admit that first I was working from the assumption that the g
ood captain had got a young girl in trouble, in this case your … mother, but what you’ve told me about Lady Heston makes more sense. My father mentioned that there had been some scandal and his cousin was in love with a married woman.’

  He had given her a lot to think about, and so had her father by the sounds of it. It was only reasonable that he gave her a moment to absorb these facts. Then he continued. ‘It seems clear to me that Cecil Blythe and Lady Heston had an affair, and that she fled her husband’s wrath when she saw that her child had the same distinctive eyes as her lover as well as his colouring.’

  Cora shook her head and smiled. ‘A tall tale, indeed.’

  ‘At least humour me and let me show you his portrait,’ said Jack. ‘It will become apparent to you that there are other similarities.’

  ‘Is that what this abduction is about? You want to show me the family gallery? At this hour?’

  A smile tugged the corners of her mouth and Jack had a sudden urge to lean over and kiss it, but he resisted the temptation. Cora was listening, not running down the alleyways of Hounslow or through the woods, and he didn’t want to lose her. Nor did he wish to see her in danger again, as she had been when she tripped in front of the coach. The mere thought of it still gave him nightmares.

  ‘There’s no time like the present,’ he said with a shrug.

  ‘Have you taken leave of your senses? Are we to sneak in the back door like thieves?’ Cora gave a snort of laughter.

  ‘Well, we may have to do a little sneaking,’ Jack conceded with a grin. ‘I expect everyone will be asleep by now, but I’m very happy to take you through the front door if using a more convenient side door offends your sensibilities.’ He lifted his eyebrow.

  ‘My sensibilities are just fine,’ Cora harrumphed, ‘but thank you all the same for that consideration. It matters not to me which door we use. I still think this it quite ridiculous.’

  ‘Not so.’ Jack smiled and tossed her a bundle from the seat beside him. ‘Which brings me to this. I figured you’d be in breeches tonight, so I brought you a dress. On the outside chance that someone should come upon us while we are sneaking, I’d rather not be mistaken for a sodomite. You will admit I think of everything.’

  She smiled saucily. ‘Why anyone should think you were engaged in any kind of intimate pursuit, I can’t imagine.’

  ‘I’m very glad to hear it,’ he replied and held her gaze until she looked away with an unmistakable blush in her cheeks. He was going to enjoy this night, he was sure of it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cora unfolded the bundle without further protest. She had to go along with whatever he suggested if she was to have a chance of saving her life and being able to provide for Ned, but so far Lord Halliford had stuck by what he’d said, and she saw no reason to mistrust him. Inside was a sumptuous gown of sunflower-yellow taffeta. Although it was plain, the torso was tightly fitted with a low décolletage and a finely pleated back. The sleeves were elbow length with ruched frills of matching silk, and the bundle also included a set of stays with narrow blue ribbons to cover the seams. She ran her hand over the exquisite material. Never had she held anything quite so fine, except for the stolen waistcoat, and she tried not to think about that right now. Then for the second time her cheeks heated with embarrassment.

  ‘Not everything,’ she said in a low voice.

  ‘What?’ Jack leaned over and examined the bundle of clothes. ‘I must apologise if I have forgotten some intimate garments, but you can wear the dress over your breeches, can you not?’

  ‘No, it’s all here, sir. But if I dress like this and we sneak into your home, I could be mistaken for your mistress.’

  ‘You’ve used that word before, when you offered yourself to me at the coaching inn, and I declined politely. You do not have to offer yourself again.’

  ‘I did not offer myself to you!’ Cora argued.

  ‘Well, you could’ve fooled me.’ Jack shrugged.

  ‘I’d rather be taken for a thief than a whore.’

  ‘A whore?’ Jack said archly. ‘This dress belonged to my mother.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I meant no offence, but will she not miss it?’ With regret Cora put the dress on the seat beside her.

  Jack reached over and handed it back to her. ‘Trust me, she never wears it, and the cut is too grown-up for my cousin Alethea.’

  Alethea. That was the inscription on the fob watch, and she felt absurdly delighted by the revelation that Alethea was his cousin, not his betrothed.

  ‘Please, put the dress on for me,’ Jack said. ‘I would like to see you wear it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I believe it will suit you.’

  Cora eyed him suspiciously, but his gaze was nothing but frank and she relaxed a little. ‘I can’t get changed in the carriage. It lurches too much and I’d like a little privacy.’

  She tossed her hair, hoping to come across as dignified, although she suspected she sounded rather churlish. What girl would say no to the joy of wearing a garment like that?

  ‘You’re not planning to run off again, are you?’

  ‘On foot? Without my pistols?’

  ‘No, I suppose not,’ Jack conceded. He knocked on the roof and gave Benning orders to stop the carriage at the first convenient place. Soon, they came to a halt and Jack stepped outside, followed by Cora. Jack told Benning to wait, and then led the way under the cover of the large oak trees to a secluded spot.

  ‘Where are we?’ Cora asked.

  ‘On the outskirts of my father’s estate. I felt it was best to approach the house from the east. This way we’ll come upon the house from the side, away from the view from the main windows.’

  ‘That’s fine with me,’ said Cora, although inside she felt a heavy lump settle in her chest. Jack had said that they would have to do some sneaking. It made sense: she was wanted as a highwaywoman, and even if he wasn’t going to hand her over to the authorities, someone else might. But what if it was also because he was ashamed of her? The thought vexed her, but she couldn’t change the reality of their situation: he was a nobleman and she was a labourer, despite all his presumptions about her blood line.

  When they stopped, she got out to change under the cover of a particularly large oak tree. She could have changed in the carriage, but donning garments like these required space. Quickly she shrugged out of her coat.

  ‘Turn around,’ she said. ‘I won’t have you peeking.’

  Jack lifted his hat and bowed low. ‘But you may require assistance, my lady. Besides, I won’t be able to see anything in the dark.’

  She aimed a kick at him and snorted when her stockinged foot connected with his shin.

  ‘Ow! You little minx! That hurt.’

  ‘Good. Now turn around.’

  Grumbling, he did as she asked, and Cora quickly took off her breeches, shirt and stockings. Jack had indeed thought of everything, including a fine cotton shift, but Cora didn’t bother with it, preferring instead to keep her linen shift on. She didn’t trust him not to look – had it been Jack changing in front of her, she would have given in to temptation and sneaked a peek.

  She had no trouble donning the petticoat and the silk stockings, but when it came to fastening the stays, she ran into problems. They were designed to be done up at the back with the assistance of a maid – it was not a garment a person could manage single-handedly.

  ‘Jack,’ she called. In the forest he’d introduced himself thus, and she’d looked at the inscribed watch so many times since that she had come to think of him as Jack in her mind. Even so, she couldn’t suppress a sense of awkwardness from using his given name for the first time.

  Startled, he turned around. ‘How do you know my name?’

  ‘You volunteered it when you chanced upon me in the forest. And from your watch,’ she added. Her cheeks flamed.

  ‘Mm, yes, so I did. As for the watch, I wouldn’t mind it back some time.’

  Cora tossed her head. ‘I’ll think about it.
In the meantime, could you lace me up?’

  ‘It’ll be my pleasure, madam,’ he replied, a little too eagerly, she thought.

  She felt his hands on her back, brushing gently against the skin on her neck as he began tightening the laces from the top, and with each gentle tug at the ribbons her breathing became increasingly laboured.

  Every time Jack pulled and pushed, she felt his soft breath on the back of her neck, a warm, feather-light caress in the cool evening air. She closed her eyes and gave in to the exquisite sensation. Something stirred in her belly and her groin, and her cheeks flamed hotter than ever before. Just as well he couldn’t see her expression in the dark.

  ‘There, you’re done,’ he said.

  He reached out and touched one of her black curls, which had broken free of her ribbon, tying it back up. A delicious and excruciating shiver ran down her back. She felt his hands on her hips without him touching her, felt the length of his body pressing against hers although there was a hands-breadth of air between them. A stifled moan escaped her lips. She wanted him so much.

  ‘Oh, Cora,’ he sighed, and she felt his breath on her neck. ‘I want you too, but this isn’t the time.’

  She rounded on him, furious with herself that her thoughts had been so obvious. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. Don’t you go taking liberties, else I’ll injure your other leg!’

  Holding up his hands, he laughed. ‘Sir is it, now? What happened to Jack? Peace. Just put on the gown, if you please.’

  She crossed her arms hoping that her belligerence would hide how she truly felt. ‘I don’t want to play this game anymore.’

  ‘All I’m asking is that you put on the dress,’ he said and held it out to her. ‘I would dearly like to see you wear it.’

  ‘Oh, if I must!’ She snatched it off him and put it on.

  She’d never worn a dress like this before, and despite the layers of fabric, she felt suddenly exposed.

  But it wasn’t just this vulnerability that gave her a thrill of anticipation. Perhaps if she could look like a lady, that would be one less obstacle between them.