Reluctant Escort

by Mary Nichols

  ‘Oh, this is so pleasing,’ Molly said as a delicious meal of turbot, chicken and ham, not to mention creamy sweets and fruit, was set before them. ‘It is not often I have the opportunity to enjoy good conversation and good food in surroundings like these. Mother would never use a common inn, but always stay with friends.’

  ‘Is that so?’ He smiled, knowing that it was not the status of the inn which concerned Harriet so much as the expense. Friends did not need paying.

  ‘Are the inns as good as this in London, Captain?’

  ‘Oh, indeed,’ he said. ‘Perhaps better, but you are unlikely to see the inside of one, once you are safely with your mama in Holles Street.’

  ‘Then tell us about Society. Tell us about the sorts of things we shall be doing. Whom shall we meet? Shall we see the Prince Regent? And the Queen? And will we ride in the park and flirt a little…?’

  ‘Flirt?’ he queried, unaccountably appalled at the thought. ‘What do you know of flirting?’

  ‘Why, nothing at all. I am hoping you will teach me.’ And she looked in astonishment at Frank when he almost choked on his food.

  Duncan grinned. ‘I’m not much of a hand at that, Miss Martineau.’

  ‘No, in with both feet, that’s you,’ spluttered Frank, which earned him a rebuke from his wife and a fierce look from Duncan. ‘Well, you were a soldier and unmarried to boot,’ he added to justify his remark.

  ‘But I collect you once thought of marriage,’ Molly said. ‘Did you not flirt then?’

  ‘Did no one teach you it is not polite to ask personal questions?’ he retorted. ‘Let us talk of something else.’

  ‘Very well. I forgot you found speaking of her painful. What shall we talk of? The battles you have fought?’

  ‘I never met anyone so blood-thirsty. We will not talk of the war. Tell us about yourself.’

  ‘But I am so very uninteresting. Why, I have had more adventures in the last few days than I have had in the whole of my life. Tell me, how shall we go on tomorrow?’

  Before Duncan could open his mouth to answer, there was a flurry at the door and an irate man in a cloth coat and nankeen breeches pushed his way past the waiter. He was followed by a constable. ‘That’s the man,’ he said, pointing a pudgy finger at Duncan. ‘I insist you arrest him.’

  Martha gasped and Molly turned to Duncan, a question on her lips. He shook his head and she sank back into her chair, her heart pounding.

  ‘What am I accused of?’ he drawled, addressing the man who was now standing over him in a belligerent manner. ‘Is my cravat not tied to your taste?’

  ‘That’s my curricle outside—the one with the yellow wheels—and it is my mare in the stables.’

  ‘No one is denying it,’ Duncan said calmly. ‘You hired both out to me the other day.’

  ‘One day’s hire, that’s all you paid for.’

  ‘My business took longer than I expected, but I have done with it now.’ Duncan reached in his pocket and drew out his purse. ‘Another’s day’s hire should see us right, don’t you think? There is no need for constables and threats.’

  ‘What about the damage? It looks as though it was run off the road.’

  ‘That is because it was. You are lucky I am not asking you for damages to life and limb for supplying a deficient vehicle.’

  ‘Oh, please do not argue about it,’ Molly said, worrying about the presence of the constable and glad he was not the one who had questioned them in Aylsham. ‘Do give him enough to cover his losses, Captain; it is only fair. It was not his fault the coach driver ran us down.’

  Once again she had jumped in to back his story, and with admirable swiftness. ‘Very well.’ He took out several guineas and handed them to the man. ‘That should suffice.’

  With no more than a grunt by way of a receipt, the man took them and turned on his heel, followed by the constable.

  Everyone breathed a sigh of relief but Duncan was only too well aware that his funds had been seriously depleted. Now how were they to reach London? He did not have enough for the stagecoach fare, let alone the purchase of a coach and horses.

  Molly, who had turned to look out of the window as the owner of the curricle departed with it, suddenly exclaimed in delight. ‘Oh, just look at that! Did you ever see the like?’

  The others turned to see a magnificent carriage pulling into the yard. It was a dark blue colour, its lines picked out in gold. It had a monogrammed door and brocade curtains at the windows and its metalwork gleamed with polish. It was drawn by four matched bays whose coats gleamed almost as much as their harness.

  It drew up with a clatter and a flourish and down from its box jumped someone who could only be described as a tulip of the first water. He wore a long coat reaching almost to his heels. It sported three capes and two rows of pockets and enormous brass buttons. The coat flew open as he jumped down and revealed primrose-coloured breeches tucked into highly polished top boots and a black and yellow striped waistcoat. He wore a tall crowned beaver hat with a curly brim and a posy of flowers tucked into its huge buckle.

  Another young man emerged from the coach, less flamboyantly attired, and followed the first into the inn. A third man, in livery, trailed behind them carrying a leather portmanteau.

  ‘Andrew Bellamy,’ murmured Duncan with a smile.

  ‘You know him?’ Molly queried.

  ‘Only by sight and reputation,’ he said. ‘He is Lord Brancaster’s heir and even more of a scapegrace than I am.’

  ‘Will he recognise you?’

  ‘I doubt it. We have not met in years.’

  ‘Perhaps it is just as well,’ she said. ‘You would rather remain incognito; is that not so?’

  Once more she had demonstrated her perspicacity but before he could agree the new arrivals entered the room and the landlord hurried to be of service. He conducted them to a table while everyone in the room stopped eating to watch their progress, passing close to where the four were sitting. Molly was delighted and smiled unashamedly at the young fop.

  He bowed before her with a great flourish. ‘Ma’am, your servant.’

  Duncan was seething. Molly should not have smiled at him like that; it was almost an open invitation and one which Bellamy had not been slow in noticing. ‘You do not need to be taught the art of flirtation,’ he whispered fiercely at her. ‘You are doing very well without instruction.’

  She turned from gazing after the two newcomers and faced him. ‘Whatever do you mean? He was perfectly civil.’

  ‘He should not have spoken to you at all. But it is your fault for smiling at him.’

  ‘May a lady not smile at a gentleman? And may a gentleman not acknowledge it?’

  ‘Not in that way, not unless they know each other very well.’

  ‘As you and I know each other, you mean? I may smile at you?’

  ‘As often as you like. I shall not read more into it than you intend.’

  ‘I intended nothing.’

  ‘I know that, but he does not. He would infer that you wanted to further your acquaintance and without a proper introduction…’

  ‘Oh, I see. You are cross with me again.’

  ‘No, of course I am not cross, but it is not a good idea to draw attention to ourselves now if we are to arrive in London in the manner we planned…’

  ‘And how are we to do that? Are you going to hire another coach or shall you buy one?’

  ‘I have not made up my mind,’ he said, wondering how either could be achieved. ‘Now, I suggest you and Mrs Upjohn retire. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.’

  The ladies rose dutifully, said goodnight and left the room, leaving Duncan and Frank facing each other.

  ‘It would seem that providence is on our side, after all,’ Duncan murmured, with a smile. ‘I know Bellamy for a gambler and his father does not stint him. His pockets are deep. We can play our way out of our predicament.’

  ‘We can’t do that without a stake,’ Frank said.

  ‘I have a
little left. Enough for a start.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Don’t look so Friday-faced; I can beat him easily, but you do not have to stay with me. I absolve you from any obligation.’

  ‘You think I would turn my back on you just because you have lost your head to a petticoat…’

  Duncan found himself grinning. ‘It is not the petticoat, Sergeant, but what’s inside it.’

  ‘Then my advice is to watch out, for I am ready to wager she will turn the tables on you.’

  ‘It is not a wager I shall take on, Sergeant, for I was only bamming. She is little more than a child and my grandmother’s goddaughter. I could no more take advantage of her than I could a new-born babe.’

  ‘Then I think you would do well to open your eyes, Captain. I saw no child.’

  Duncan was watching Andrew Bellamy and his friend and did not answer. The two young men had finished their meal and were moving into a back room which Duncan knew was set aside for gambling should the clientele require it. He stood up and chinked his purse in his coat pocket. ‘Come along, Sergeant, into the fray.’

  The owner of the petticoat was sitting in it in front of a mirror, surveying herself with a critical eye, while Martha brushed her hair.

  ‘I wish I looked older,’ she murmured. ‘No one takes me seriously.’

  ‘I am quite sure Captain Stacey does.’

  ‘Oh, he does not. He is continually roasting me.’

  ‘Only because you provoke him. I wonder he has not sent you home long before now.’

  ‘So do I, but then I can help him and he knows it.’

  ‘How can you help him? You are not still thinking of that robbery they took Frank for, are you? Surely that is all behind us?’

  ‘Of course it is. At least, I hope it is. But people are continually mistaking Captain Stacey for the Dark Knight…’

  ‘Dark Knight?’

  ‘He is a highwayman, a very romantical figure, I have heard, who robs the rich to give to the poor.’

  ‘And you think Captain Stacey is like him?’

  ‘I think he must bear some resemblance to him,’ Molly said, realising she was treading on dangerous ground.

  ‘And does this man have a companion who resembles my husband?’

  ‘I think he must have.’

  ‘And is this Dark Knight a wealthy man?’

  ‘No, I do not think he can be, or he would not need to take from the rich to give to the poor, would he? He could use his own money if he had any.’

  ‘And the poor? What manner of people are they? Could they be soldiers and widows of soldiers?’

  Molly swivelled round in her seat to face Martha, her expression one of dismay. Martha had tricked her into revealing more than she ought to have done about the two men and now poor Mr Upjohn would be in trouble with his wife. ‘I do not know. I am only repeating hearsay, you understand. I am such a romantic I listen to every whimsical tale that is going around. Take no notice of me.’

  ‘And do you think Captain Stacey is an honourable man?’

  ‘Oh, I am sure he is, in spite of being the black sheep of the family. I think he exaggerates about that. Why, he is looking after me, when perhaps he would rather not, and he rescued Mr Upjohn…’

  ‘But Frank has done nothing wrong.’

  ‘Of course not.’ She stood up and untied the strings of her petticoat and kicked it off when it fell to her feet. ‘Now, I think we should go to bed. It is late and no doubt the Captain will want to leave early in the morning.’

  ‘How? We have no conveyance. The curricle…’

  ‘Oh, he will contrive, you may be sure.’ She was not very good at dissembling and she did not want to be quizzed any more. Besides, she was very sleepy. ‘Goodnight, Mrs Upjohn.’

  Martha sighed, bade her goodnight and left to go to her own bed in the next room.

  Molly found a new nightgown in her trunk, put it on and settled down in her bed, but sleep was slow in coming. The more she talked of Duncan, the more she became convinced that he was the Dark Knight. It was both exciting and terrifying. What would happen next? she wondered. How would their journey continue? Was he even now planning another hold-up?

  But underlying that was a frisson of fear. She did not want anything dreadful to happen to the Captain as a result and there were many such possibilities. He could be wounded or killed if anyone was so brave as to take a pot shot at him; he could be captured, tried and hanged in spite of her willingness to perjure herself for him. It was enough to give her nightmares.

  Holding up coaches was the last thing on Duncan’s mind at that moment. He was playing a cat and mouse game with Andrew Bellamy and though his heart was beating very fast and his hands felt clammy he gave no outward sign of it. Not by the tiniest flicker of his eyelids, not by the lightest twitch of his lips, nor the minutest raising of an eyebrow did he betray the fact that he had a winning hand.

  It was not the first he had had. Lady Luck had been with him and there was a pile of gold coins at his elbow and several scraps of paper on which Andrew had scribbled his signature against substantial sums. But the pile of coins was not enough to pay for four people to travel to London and the vowels could not be used as currency.

  ‘I’m dished up,’ Andrew said, in disgust. ‘How anyone can have such luck as you have had, Stacey, I do not know.’

  ‘It can’t last,’ Frank growled, pretending not to look at Duncan but receiving the secret message contained in the way he moved his hands when sorting his cards.

  ‘No, for I am sure it is about to turn in my favour.’

  ‘Then make your bid,’ Duncan said.

  Bellamy sighed. ‘It will have to be another vowel.’

  ‘No, no more of those.’

  ‘But I have the winning hand.’

  ‘If you are so sure, then back it with something worthwhile. What have you got?’

  ‘You have everything. My ring, my fob, my purse. What more is there, but my watch and the clothes on my back?’

  ‘Oh, I do not think they would fit me,’ Duncan said drily. ‘And I already have a good watch. But you do have a coach and horses.’

  ‘You can’t have those! They are my father’s.’

  ‘But you have said you have the winning hand. If you are so sure, you will not hesitate to put them up.’ He smiled for the first time since they sat down to play. ‘But perhaps you are bluffing.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then the coach and horses against all these.’ And he picked up the slips of paper and slapped them down again. ‘There’s two thousand there.’

  ‘As much as that?’ Andrew went very white and his hands were shaking. ‘Very well. The coach and horses against my vowels.’

  Ten minutes later Duncan was the owner of one of the best equipages in the country and the now impoverished Andrew Bellamy was wondering how he was to pay for his night’s stay and return to Newmarket from where he had driven that morning. He was inclined to bluster but his companion counselled him to accept defeat gracefully and the loan of five guineas which would see them safely back.

  ‘I should not like to be in that one’s shoes when he faces his father,’ Duncan said as they watched the now deflated tulip toil wearily upstairs to his room, followed by his sycophant.

  ‘But he will stand buff for him?’

  ‘Naturally he will.’ He laughed. ‘He might bluster and threaten but Andrew is his only son and his lordship was a deep player in his young days. He once lost a thousand pounds betting on the colour of the Queen’s gown at a soirée. He said it would be rose and it was green. I know because it was my father who won it from him.’

  ‘What are we going to tell the ladies about the coach? I do not think Martha would approve.’

  ‘We shall say Mr Bellamy was kind enough to lend it to us.’ He paused. ‘And, speaking of the ladies, I think we should be up betimes and on our way by dawn, so give orders for the coach to be made ready and brought round to the front of the house at first light.’

  ‘Very well.’r />
  Frank went to carry out his orders and Duncan went up to the room he had taken opposite Molly’s. Ten minutes later, he was deeply asleep.

  Martha, roused by her husband, went to wake Molly long before it was light. The young lady was disinclined to stir and simply pulled the covers over her head and grumbled that it was not fair to disturb her in the middle of the night.

  Martha shook her. ‘The Captain says we must leave in half an hour, unless you want to be left behind.’

  Molly was up like a shot and scrambling for her clothes. ‘How are we to travel? What shall I wear? Did he say?’

  ‘Frank told me they have procured the loan of a coach and four. We are to go on in style.’

  ‘Oh, wonderful! Then I shall wear my new carriage dress and the bonnet with the green feather and the kid half boots. Pour my washing water while I find them, please. Oh, I am so excited. How soon shall we be in London?’

  She prattled on the whole time she was dressing and while Martha brushed her hair. ‘Is the Captain waiting to go or are we to have breakfast first? I must have something to eat and drink for I cannot go the whole day without food. He is surely not in such great haste? Unless, of course—oh, dear, I do hope not.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘That those Cromer constables have not tracked us down.’

  ‘Why should they? I really cannot imagine why you are so afraid of them.’

  ‘I am not afraid of them. I was simply saying that it would be a great inconvenience to be detained by them again.’

  ‘Frank said nothing of them, only that the Captain was in some haste to be in London.’

  ‘Only so he may be rid of me,’ Molly said morosely. ‘I know he is looking forward to handing me over to Mama, so he may be free. I am an encumbrance.’

  ‘Fustian! I am sure he thinks nothing of the sort. Why, I should not be surprised if he were to offer for you when he sees your mama.’

  ‘Captain Stacey? Offer for me?’ Her laughter pealed out as she stood before the mirror and set the straw bonnet on her curls and tied the ribbons beneath her chin. ‘Oh, Mrs Upjohn, how can you say that? He is older than me; he did not deny it when I said it. He said he was thirty and, besides, he thinks of me as a schoolgirl; he has said that too.’