by Mary Nichols
‘Perhaps.’
‘Oh, how romantic! I expect you have had hundreds of adventures.’
‘So, your headache has magically vanished.’
‘No, it is still there.’ She hurried to assure him. ‘It will be better tomorrow, perhaps.’
‘It is already tomorrow. See, the sun is on the horizon and soon it will be daylight.’
‘So it is.’ She could see the road winding downhill to a group of buildings and a church. ‘Is that Aylsham ahead of us?’
‘Yes. The Red Lion is a respectable hostelry. We will stay there for a few hours until you are feeling better. Then I will see you safely on the coach to Cromer. If your horse is tied on behind, you will be able to ride from there to Stacey Manor.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Wherever the fancy takes me.’
‘That’s sounds very indecisive to me and you do not seem to me to be an indecisive man. A secretive one, perhaps. Do you not want me to know where you are going?’
‘There is no need for you to know. Your little adventure is at an end.’
She was silent for a moment. ‘When you have seen your friend are you going on to London?’
‘I might. On the other hand I might not. It depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On what transpires,’ he said enigmatically.
‘I should very much like to go there…’
‘Perhaps one day you will. I collect my grandmother saying you had been promised a Season.’
‘Oh, that will only happen if Mama finds herself a rich husband.’ She sighed. ‘I am afraid she is not very good at judging how wealthy a man is and may very well mistake the matter again. I hold out no great hope.’
‘So young and so cynical!’
‘Realistic, Captain. So, will you take me to London?’
He chuckled, unable to take her seriously. ‘Minx! You have been play-acting the whole time. It will not serve, you know. What would my grandmother say if I were to carry you off?’
‘We could ride back and tell her. She will be quite content to let me go with you.’
She squirmed to turn and look at him again when he roared with laughter. He laughed so long and so loud, the tears ran down his face.
‘I amuse you?’ she asked stiffly.
‘Oh, I was not laughing at you but at myself. How anyone could be such a gowk, I do not know.’
‘Gowk?’
‘Fool, Molly. I am a fool. I have fallen for a ploy as old as time.’
‘Then will you take me to London? To Mama?’
‘I doubt your sudden arrival would please your mama.’
‘Oh, she might ring a peal over me to start with but I shall turn her up sweet, then she will take me out and about with her.’
The idea amused him even more than knowing Molly had inadvertently played into Lady Connaught’s hands. Harriet would be furious. It was almost worth considering just to discomfit her. But that would not be fair on Molly. And between the Red Lion and London were a great many miles and every one of them fraught with danger. Miss Molly Martineau must be returned to Stacey Manor.
He turned into the inn yard and dismounted before lifting her down and setting her on her feet. He ordered the ostler to look after the horses and escorted her inside. Not until he had bespoken a room and tipped a chambermaid to help her to bed did he feel free to go in search of Frank.
Frank Upjohn, once a sergeant in the Norfolk Regiment and now his servant, had taken two rooms along the corridor. Duncan tiptoed along and quietly let himself in, but Frank had been watching for him and was wide awake, sitting by the window.
‘You’re late, Captain,’ he said. ‘I had all but given you up for lost.’
‘I was delayed.’
‘Yes, I saw her. A pretty little filly, no doubt, but a distraction we could well do without.’
‘You mistake the matter,’ Duncan said. ‘She is a distant cousin. I shall put her on the Cromer stage when she has rested.’
‘No, Captain, you cannot do that, unless you want to upset all our plans. ‘Tis the stage our target will be on.’
‘How so?’
‘He travels a day early. It were meant to confound anyone with an eye to waylaying him. He will be coming through here in two hours’ time.’
Duncan swore roundly. Now what was he to do? He could not involve Molly in what he was about to do and he needed to get away quickly after the deed was done. ‘She will have to stay where she is for another day and go on tomorrow,’ he said, hoping Molly would be docile and do as she was told without further argument about sharing his adventures.
‘We had no plans to come back here,’ Frank reminded him.
‘Then we shall have to change our plans.’
‘I don’t like it,’ Frank muttered. ‘Don’t like it at all. Petticoats are the very devil…’
Duncan laughed. ‘You never said a truer word, old friend, but what would we do without them, eh? But enough of that. Tell me all you have discovered and let’s get down to business.’
Chapter Two
Molly woke with a start when a coach rattled into the yard outside her window. For a moment she lay staring at the ceiling, wondering where she was. And then it all came back to her—the ride in the night, the fall from her horse, the comfortable feeling of Captain Stacey’s strong arms around her, and his determination to send her back to Lady Connaught. She sighed heavily. It had been a kind of adventure, she supposed, but only a little one and nothing of any importance had happened. She still did not know his secret.
She rose and went to open the window. The yard outside was busy with horses being changed on a coach and the passengers were coming into the inn for refreshment. She guessed it was late in the morning, for the smell of roasting beef wafted up to her and reminded her she was hungry. Without a nightgown, she had slept in her underwear and it did not take her long to wash, using cold water from the jug on the wash-stand, and put on her riding habit again. It was crumpled and dirty, but that could not be helped. Having secured her hair as best she could, she went downstairs in search of Captain Stacey.
‘He and his friend left two hours since,’ the landlord told her. ‘He left a message that you were to wait here for him.’
She was puzzled. ‘He did not say to take the stage to Cromer?’
‘It left soon after the gentlemen, miss. If that was where you were bound, then you must needs wait until tomorrow.’
‘Oh, I see.’ She did not see at all. Unless the Captain had decided to take her to London, after all. But even she could see that was impractical; she had not thought of a long journey when she’d left Stacey Manor; it had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, coming to her as they rode together. She had no change of clothes, no baggage at all. No money either. In the unlikely event of him agreeing, they would have to return to Stacey Manor to make the proper arrangements for a journey.
Supposing the Captain had abandoned her? He was not at all a chivalrous man; he was the black sheep of the family; he had said so himself. He would have no conscience about leaving her to find her own way, especially if he had met up with a friend. ‘Did he say where they were going?’
‘No, miss.’
‘But he did say he would be back?’
‘Oh, yes, miss. Most particular he was as to that. And I was to see that you did not stir from the premises.’
‘In that case, please bring me something to eat. I am starving. I am sure…’ She paused. Was the Captain here under his real name? What was his real name? Would she upset some deep-laid plan by revealing the one she knew him by? ‘My friend will pay.’
The landlord’s smile did not reveal what he thought about young ladies arriving at his inn in the arms of gentlemen in the early hours; it was not his business, but if she had been a daughter of his he would have spanked her soundly. ‘Do you wish to have it sent to your room?’
‘No, I will eat in the dining room. And bring me paper and ink to write a letter, if you please.’
He conducted her to the dining room and offered her a table by the window where she could see everyone who came and went. Given the writing things she asked for, she sat down and scribbled a note to her godmother—telling her she was safe and well and under Captain Stacey’s protection—which she gave to the innkeeper to put on the next mail-coach, before beginning her meal.
She had hardly begun to eat when a rider galloped into the yard and dismounted. He was obviously in a great hurry and very agitated. Molly watched as a crowd gathered round him. From their shocked expressions, she gathered he was bringing news of some importance. He left the crowd outside and came into the dining room, where he announced to all and sundry that the Cromer stage had been waylaid by highwaymen on a quiet stretch of the road a dozen miles to the north.
‘Was anyone hurt?’ enquired the innkeeper while Molly reflected that if she had not overslept and if Captain Stacey had not decided to disappear she would have been on that coach. That really would have been an adventure and she was rather cross that she had missed it.
‘No. But they made everyone get out and they searched the coach very thorough,’ the man said. ‘They took Sir John Partridge’s gold and his watch and papers, but they let the ladies keep their jewellery.’
‘Where was the guard? Did he not try to stop them?’
‘The stage carried no guard. Sir John’s man had a pistol but he was so slow fetching it out, he was useless. The high toby took it from him as easy as you please.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘They made everyone return to their seats and told the coachman to drive on. Sir John demanded to know their names, as if they would be foolish enough to give them to him. One of them laughed and said he was called the Dark Knight.’
‘Where were you when all this was happening?’ demanded mine host.
‘I came upon the scene quite by chance, but there was nothing I could do. They had pistols and I was unarmed…’
‘How many of them?’
‘Two. Very big men, they were, and masked. I hid in the trees until it was safe to proceed.’
‘Which direction did the robbers take?’
‘To the coast, I think.’
The landlord sent a boy off to fetch a constable and there was talk of sending for the runners from London, but it was decided that by the time they arrived the highwaymen would be long gone. Doubtless Sir John would report the incident when the coach arrived in Cromer and constables sent from there to help search for the robbers.
In the middle of this discussion, Duncan strolled into the inn and sat down opposite Molly. He was dressed in soft buckskin breeches, a brown coat and a yellow and brown checked waistcoat. His boots and white neckcloth were pristine. She surmised that he could not have ridden very far, for the roads were dusty and there wasn’t a speck of it on him.
‘You have missed all the excitement,’ she told him. ‘The Cromer coach has been held up. They are even now sending for the watch.’
‘Is that so?’ He affected little interest. ‘I’m devilish hungry. Have you finished with that?’ He pointed to a tureen of vegetables and a platter containing pork chops.
‘Yes. Please help yourself. You will be paying for it, after all. I have no money.’
‘Dear me! Not even for the coach fare?’
‘No. I did not think I would need money. I was on horseback.’
‘And what would you have done if I had not returned?’ he asked, piling a plate with food. ‘I could simply have ridden off and left you. The landlord would not have been pleased when he discovered you could not pay for what you had eaten.’
‘He assured me you had said you would be back. I had no reason to doubt you.’
‘No reason not to doubt me either. You are too trusting, my dear.’
‘But you did come back, so I was right.’
‘Tell me,’ he said, tucking into the chops. ‘What did you intend when you followed me last night? Not a journey to London, I’ll wager, or you would have come better prepared.’
‘No, I saw you leave and was curious as to why you travelled by night, that was all. I wanted to see where you were going. And riding in the dark is something I never tried before and I like doing new things. I did not think of Mama, until we started to talk about her. And then it seemed the very thing to join her in London.’ She sighed. ‘And you left me asleep, so I missed my adventure.’
‘Adventure?’
‘Yes, being held up by highwaymen. Do you suppose they stole a kiss from the ladies? But I collect the man said they took nothing from the ladies, only from Sir John Partridge.’
‘What man?’ Duncan tried not to let his real interest show.
‘The man who saw it all. I think he must be a little nervous and not at all heroic, for he said he hid and only rode on when it was all over.’
‘What else did he say?’
‘There were two of them, heavily armed, and afterwards they rode towards the coast. Everyone seems to think they had a boat waiting for them and are long gone.’
‘Very likely,’ he said, allowing himself to relax. ‘Now, what are we to do about you?’
‘The landlord says the next Cromer coach is not until tomorrow. We shall have to ride back.’
‘We, Miss Martineau? I cannot spare the time escorting a chit about the countryside; I should have been on my way long ago…’
Before he could go on, they were interrupted by the arrival of the local constable, who had come to take charge of the investigation into the robbery. He began by questioning the witness whose tale lost nothing in repetition. In fact, it gained a detail or two. The chief of the highwaymen was of a dark countenance, dressed all in black, and he rode a big black horse with a white flash on its nose. His accomplice was older and smaller by six inches and had a scar near his left eye, though it could not all be seen on account of the mask he wore.
Molly had pricked up her ears when she’d heard the description of the horse. She had ridden on the back of such a one not five hours since but, she told herself severely, there must be many black horses with white noses and many men with dark looks. She glanced across at the Captain who was placidly eating and told herself she was imagining things. To have arrived back in the inn so soon after the hold-up, he would, like the man who had witnessed it, have had to ride hard, but he was completely unruffled and showed every evidence of a leisurely toilette.
She noticed Duncan lift his head as another man came in. Did she imagine he nodded towards Duncan before passing through the room and out of the door towards the stairs? What was unmistakable was the scar on his face.
‘Captain,’ she whispered, reaching across and touching his hand to attract his attention. ‘That man who just went out. He had a scar…’
‘So have a great many men, I should think,’ he said, without even bothering to look up from his meal.
‘But one of the robbers…’
‘Miss Martineau, you must learn to curb your imagination, you know, or you will land yourself in more trouble than a little.’
‘You know him, don’t you?’
‘Miss Mar…’ He stopped short when the bulk of the constable loomed over them.
‘Sir, may I ask what you know of this matter?’ he asked. ‘I am told you have recently arrived and from a northerly direction.’
‘If by recent you mean five hours or thereabouts,’ Duncan said laconically, ‘then I suppose you could say I have.’
‘Hours, you say? I was told you entered the room but fifteen minutes ago.’
‘So I did. From my bedroom. My man will vouch for me. He is even now packing for our departure.’
‘It is quite true,’ Molly said, turning her ingenuous smile upon the constable. ‘I, too, can vouch for the Captain’s whereabouts, though I own he did leave me for twenty minutes or so. He had to arrange transport for us.’
‘Twenty minutes? No more?’
‘Oh, no more, I do assure you.’
‘And who are you, miss, i
f I might ask?’
‘Why, I am Captain Stacey’s wife,’ she said, favouring the man with a dazzling smile and ignoring the sound of Duncan choking on his food. ‘Who else would I be?’
The constable inclined his head towards Molly. ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am, but I must leave no stone unturned.’
‘And while you waste time turning over stones the thieves will have gone to ground.’ Duncan, who had quickly regained his scattered wits, decided he could not embarrass her by contradicting her, but it put him in a devil of a coil. He could hardly put her on a coach to Cromer and ride off in the opposite direction if they were supposed to be husband and wife travelling together. ‘Get out to the scene of the crime,’ he said in his most commanding voice. ‘Surely that is where you should begin?’
The man bowed again and left them and Duncan called the waiter to bring a pudding; he was still hungry, he said.
‘Don’t you think we should go?’ Molly asked. ‘If the constable sees your horse—or the man with the scar…’
‘I see you have added two and two and made five,’ he said, making inroads into the plum duff which had just been set before him. ‘Have some of this; it is delicious.’
‘No, thank you. I am no longer hungry. And I don’t know how you can sit there and eat so calmly when you know…’
He smiled at her. Her blue eyes were looking troubled; surely she was not worried on his account? He felt an unaccountable frisson of pleasure at the thought. ‘What do I know?’
‘More than you are saying. If you were not on the road this morning, you know very well who was.’
‘But you gave me an alibi. Surely you do not condone highway robbery?’
‘I know nothing of it. If you were to tell me…’
‘There is nothing to tell. And I wish you would not refine upon it. What I do is none of your business.’
‘I think it is,’ she said promptly. ‘If you had not panicked my horse, I would not have been thrown and you would not have had to bring me here. That was your fault. And now, because there is no coach going to Cromer until tomorrow, we must stay here like sitting ducks. Besides, you have already said your man—and I doubt not he is the robber with the scar—is packing to leave and I have confirmed you have been out to arrange transport, so leave we must.’
