by Mary Nichols
She stopped when she realised she could not go back to the party in the state she was in, nor tell anyone what had happened. It would cause no end of a scandal, and though she was innocent no one would believe she had not enticed Mr Bellamy. Her mother might even be pleased and insist on him marrying her. The very idea was abhorrent.
She was standing, trying to compose herself, when a tall figure loomed in front of her and grabbed her. She opened her mouth to scream, but he forestalled her and put his hand over her mouth. ‘Not so fast, my pretty,’ he said.
She struggled in vain. And then she heard Andrew’s voice behind her. ‘Oh, you foolish wench, did you think you could escape from me?’
‘She’s yours?’ the man queried.
‘Indeed, she is. A little firebrand too. I thank you for stopping her, for there is no telling what she would do if left to herself.’
‘She is certainly a handful,’ the man went on, holding Molly at arm’s length while trying to avoid her kicking feet. ‘You should teach her manners.’
‘So I shall. My carriage is on the road, will you help me to get her to it?’
‘No! No!’ Molly yelled, and was immediately cuffed about the ear. She spat in his face which was a bad mistake. He hit her so hard she lost consciousness.
When she came to her senses, she was riding in a closed carriage. Andrew was sitting beside her and the man who had captured her was sitting opposite her; beside him was another man. They were talking quietly together and she decided not to let them know she had regained her senses.
‘It was a stroke of luck bumping into the little lady,’ the first man said.
‘Why?’ Andrew asked warily. ‘What is your interest in her?’
‘Oh, we ain’t interested in her,’ the second man said. ‘But she can lead us to the man we want. Been tracking him for weeks…’
‘Who might that be?’
‘The Dark Knight.’
‘The Dark Knight,’ Andrew repeated, while Molly held her breath. ‘You mean the high toby who has been terrorising the countryside?’
‘Yes. This little one is his accomplice. You would never think it to look at her, would you? Demure as a whore at a christening, she is.’
‘That’s ridiculous. No one knows who he is.’
‘She does. An’ so do we. She’s goin’ to fetch him to us.’
‘What do you want with him?’
‘He’s got property that belongs to our master. Took it off him, he did. We’ve been sent to fetch it back.’
‘Why don’t you go to a magistrate and have him arrested?’
‘That won’t serve, not at all.’
Molly was beginning to realise that Andrew had lost control of the situation. She could tell by the tone of his voice he was afraid, and yet he was ready to bluff his way out of trouble. ‘The lady is my mistress,’ he said. ‘I say where she goes and she goes with me to a little house I’ve got prepared for her…’
‘A love nest. So be it. You keep her there. We will do the rest.’
Molly stirred a little and the first man leaned across and poked her ribs. She flinched. ‘She’s coming round,’ he said.
‘Where am I?’ She struggled to sit up and stared at the two men. She could see little in the gloom of the carriage, except that they were both dark and wearing dark clothes. One had long hair and straggly moustache and the other was very thin. ‘Who are you?’
‘No need for you to know,’ the long-haired one said, with a grin.
‘What do you want? Where are you taking me?’
‘Bless you, we ain’t takin’ you anywhere. Lover boy is the one who’s doin’ the takin’. We’re just going along for the ride, so to speak.’
‘Oh.’ She turned to appeal to Andrew. ‘Mr Bellamy, please take me home.’
‘Home?’ he repeated. ‘Why, of course, my dear. I’ll take you to the prettiest little home imaginable. Be patient.’
‘I meant Connaught House.’
‘I’m afraid that is out of the question.’
‘But Mama and Lady Connaught will be searching for me. You cannot simply abduct me and think no one will look for me.’
‘They will not find you until it is too late.’
‘Too late?’ she queried, wondering if he meant to murder her.
‘Too late to save your reputation,’ he said, then smiled. ‘Once you have spent a night in my company, you will be ruined in the eyes of the haut monde, a fallen woman—not that you aren’t already, for you spent a week on the road with Captain Stacey…’
‘Nothing happened,’ she protested.
‘Then he is a bigger clunch than I took him for.’
‘He is more a gentleman than you will ever be.’
‘Such touching loyalty will not serve you when it comes to asserting your innocence, you know. Society can be very cruel. By the time the gabblegrinders have done with you, you will be pleased enough to accept my offer.’
‘Never! I would rather die.’
She heard the dark man laugh and turned angrily on him. ‘And you will be in worse trouble when you are caught. I have powerful friends.’
‘Captain Duncan Stacey!’ The man laughed. ‘Yes, I do believe he will ride post haste to the rescue.’
‘Stacey!’ Andrew repeated, and burst into laughter. ‘Is that the Dark Knight? A common highwayman! Oh, what a rig!’ He slapped his knees. ‘Why, my friends, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to have him done for a scamp. Double vengeance, that would be.’
‘Not before we’ve done with him,’ the second man growled. ‘Then you can do what you like.’
They left the lights of the town behind and Molly could see nothing but hedgerows and realised she was being taken into the country. But where?
Fifteen minutes later they turned into a rutted drive and drew to a stop. Andrew jumped down and let down the step for her. ‘Come,’ he said, holding out his hand. ‘It will not be so bad, I promise you.’
Neither of the other two men moved and she assumed they were going to take possession of the coach. Between the devil she knew and the unknown terror of the two ruffians, she preferred the devil, and, taking his hand, stepped down to stand beside him.
‘Mind you keep her safe here,’ the dark man said. ‘We will be back.’
She watched the coach disappear into the darkness and then turned back. They were standing outside a small cottage.
‘Where are we?’
‘Home,’ he said, taking her hand and leading her to the door. She tried to free herself but he whipped off his cravat and tied her wrist to his. ‘I do like a little spirited resistance; it makes the conquest all the sweeter,’ he said cheerfully as he unlocked the door and ushered her inside. ‘You will be all smiles and womanly wiles tomorrow.’
She did not answer; her whole mind and body was centred on keeping her head and taking stock of her surroundings. The cottage was clean and neatly furnished and they were evidently expected, for the lamps were lit and a meal was set out on the table, with wine and glasses. But there was no sign of servants.
‘This will do for a few days, until we are at ease with each other, then I will set you up in town.’ He moved towards the table and because she was tied to him she had perforce to follow. ‘Now we will eat and drink and after that…who knows?’
‘It will be difficult,’ she said, raising the hand that was bound to his.
He laughed. ‘It will be a pleasure trying.’
‘Please untie me.’
‘So that you may run?’
‘No, for I have no idea where to run to. I am persuaded we are miles from civilisation.’
‘You are right.’ He went to the door, turned the key in the lock and put it in his pocket, before releasing her. She stood rubbing her wrist, wondering how she could escape before he compelled her to agree to his outrageous proposal. Not only that, but she must warn Duncan of the danger he was in. But how?
‘Sit down, my dear,’ Andrew said. ‘Now we are alone, we may enjo
y each other’s company and get to know each other.’
She decided it would be expedient to obey. He served her with food and though it was well-prepared and looked delicious her throat was so dry she could not swallow. He ate well and drank copiously.
‘Come, try this wine,’ he said, filling a glass for her. ‘It really is very good.’
‘I do not want it.’
‘And I say you shall have it. It will make you more relaxed. You are as stiff as a starched cravat.’ He stood up and came to stand beside her, holding the glass. ‘Drink.’
‘No.’
He held her nose so that she was obliged to open her mouth, and then poured the wine down her throat. She had to swallow or choke. ‘That is better.’ He made her take more until the glass was empty. It made her dizzy, through drinking it too quickly, but it did not make her feel any easier about what was about to happen.
‘Now, come with me,’ he said, picking her up and flinging her across his shoulder. She kicked in vain; he held her by her legs and marched from the room and up the stairs, where he took her into one of the rooms and flung her onto the bed.
She started to thrash about and scream. He stuffed a handkerchief into her mouth. When her flailing legs made contact with his shin, he swore. ‘You are being a very silly chit,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow, when the world knows you for what you are, you will be happy to oblige.’
The door opened behind them with a crash. He looked up and swung round, allowing Molly a moment’s respite. But if she hoped it would be someone come to deliver her she was disappointed. The figure in the doorway was not a rescuer, but the second of the two men who had helped Andrew abduct her. And he was grinning.
‘Jeremy wants you,’ he said, jerking his head backwards. ‘Go on and be quick about it.’
Andrew hesitated, but one look at the man’s murderous face decided him. He took Molly’s hands and tied them to the bedpost. ‘I fear I must leave you for a little while, sweetheart, but rest assured I shall be back.’
And then he was gone, followed by the other man, to her immense relief.
She struggled for several minutes, then lay back exhausted. The wine she had been forced to drink was taking its toll and though she tried to stay alert she was becoming more and more drowsy. How could two glasses of wine send her to sleep? Unless they had been drugged…Her head lolled on the pillow and her eyes closed…
Chapter Twelve
‘Here’s to you, sir.’ The man raised his glass to Duncan. ‘God bless you and grant you long life and prosperity.’
‘Here! Here!’ came a chorus of assent from the half dozen men in the taproom of the Lamb and Flag.
‘If there’s anything we can do for you, you have only to tip us the wink.’ This from one of them who had identified himself as ex-Sergeant Ben Brightman.
‘Thank you.’ Duncan was in beneficent mood, having come from Manor Farm, where he had engaged a builder to make the alterations to the stables he needed and to refurbish the farmhouse. He had returned to London and gone straight to Tattersalls to look over some breeding mares. Coming upon the ex-soldiers on his way home, he had invited them to the inn to join him in a celebration and, realising he would need help on the farm and these were men accustomed to looking after horses, he had offered them work.
He left them singing ‘Over the Hills and Far Away’, with more enthusiasm than tunefulness. Now he could put the past behind him and make something of his life. Tomorrow he would tell Molly that he had only a few acres and his strong arm to offer her, and a heart full of love, and that if she consented to marry him he would cherish her for the rest of their lives.
Leaving Caesar at the mews behind Connaught House, he set off to walk to Fenton’s. He would be glad when he need no longer spend his nights at the hotel; the beds were hard and he was sure there were bugs. Turning the corner, he paused outside Connaught House. He did not see why he should not sleep there; he had not been banned and everyone would be in bed and would not know he was there until the morning. And he would be near Molly. Near Molly, ready to speak to her.
He bounded up the steps to the front door, only to find it standing wide open. His grandmother was in the grand hall furiously directing the servants, sending them hither and thither; Harriet was weeping into her handkerchief, crying, ‘My baby! My baby!’ while Lord Brancaster stood over her, trying to calm her.
Andrew Bellamy, who had just that moment arrived, was in the middle of explaining that he had seen Miss Martineau snatched by a band of ruffians who had knocked him to the ground when he tried to intervene and had then carried her off.
‘Why? Why?’ wailed Harriet.
Duncan pushed his way forward. ‘What has happened?’
‘Molly has been kidnapped,’ Harriet cried, turning a tear-streaked face up to him. ‘We were at Vauxhall. Why should anyone want to take Molly? She has no fortune, no prospects. Oh, my baby.’
‘Hush, ma’am,’ Lord Brancaster said. ‘Calm yourself. No doubt we shall hear the kidnappers’ demands in due time.’
‘What is the good of them making demands?’ Harriet went on. ‘I have no means to pay a ransom.’
‘Stacey has,’ Andrew put in, looking at Duncan. ‘I heard them mention his name.’
‘Mine?’ Duncan queried. He had made a good many enemies in his life, but he was dismayed to think that Molly should be made to suffer because of anything he had done.
‘Well, not exactly.’ Andrew, in spite of the seriousness of the situation, seemed to be grinning. ‘It was the Dark Knight they wanted.’
‘Good God!’ The exclamation was wrung from Duncan, but it was no good flying into a panic. He forced himself to stay calm. ‘Have you any idea where they might have taken her?’
‘None. They took my carriage which is why I have been so long arriving.’
‘Oh, pray they do not harm her,’ Harriet went on. ‘Or worse…Oh, the shame of it.’ She resorted once again to her flimsy lace handkerchief. ‘No one will offer for her if she has been despoiled. It is all your fault, Stacey, for encouraging her madcap ways. She said you were not the Dark Knight, but I always thought there was something smoky about the way you brought her to London.’
‘There is no sense in blaming anyone,’ Lady Connaught put in, losing patience with her. ‘Duncan, have you any idea who these men might be?’
‘No, unless they be connected with Sir John Partridge…’
‘I have heard of him,’ Lord Brancaster said. ‘He has only today been arrested and thrown into the Tower. I believe he is to stand trial for treason. We heard of it in Parliament today.’
‘Then you must use your influence to speak to him and ask him where the men have taken Molly,’ Duncan said. ‘In the meantime, I will make my own enquiries. And Bellamy, if you want to be useful, organise a search round Vauxhall Gardens; they might not have taken her far.’
‘Where are you going?’ Andrew demanded. ‘There’s no sense in both of us searching the same place.’
‘To the Lamb and Flag in Covent Garden. There are some fellows there who will help.’
He did not wait for a reply, but hurried from the house, fetched Caesar from the mews where he had left him only a few minutes before, and set off for the inn where he had left the ex-soldiers. He dared not think of what might be happening to Molly, but if it was the Dark Knight the men wanted, then the Dark Knight they should have. And if the worst was to come about and he could not free Molly any other way he would barter her life for his and it would be a small price to pay. But he needed allies.
He had given the men enough money to keep them drinking the rest of the night and he hoped they would still be there. Some of them were and, though they were well disguised, they had enough wits about them to listen to what he had to say.
‘We’ll look for her, Captain,’ Ben Brightman said, speaking for them all. ‘We know all the kens hereabouts.’
In no time they had organised themselves with military precision and set off to scour the capital. Dun
can was about to leave to resume his own search when he was approached by a dark man with a straggling moustache and long greasy hair who had just entered. He was wearing a suit of black clothes, shining with dirt. ‘Heard you were looking for a certain ladybird,’ he said.
‘Yes, yes,’ he said, ignoring the implied insult to Molly; it would not help him to find her to quarrel with a potential bearer of news. ‘What do you know?’
‘Small, hair the colour of ripe corn, eyes like bluebells and a fierce temper, goes by the name of Molly.’
Duncan grabbed him by the coat collar and nearly lifted him off his feet. ‘Where is she? If you have harmed a hair of her head, I’ll…’
‘Hold hard, old fellow,’ the dark one said. ‘It don’t pay to shoot the messenger.’
Duncan released him. ‘Who are you?’
‘Box is the name. Jeremy Box.’
‘Then, Mr Box, I suggest you tell me what you know. And then tell me where I can find Miss Martineau. Fast.’
The man looked at him, smiling. ‘Now, as to that, it depends…’
‘Very well. Name your price.’
‘Money? No, money ain’t the thing, but me and Danny wouldn’t say no to a monkey apiece. But what’s more important is them documents you took from a certain gentleman on the road to Cromer.’
He was about to say he no longer had the documents and Sir John had already been arrested on the strength of them when he realised that they were the only bargaining power he had. ‘Oh, those. Bits of paper. No good as currency; can’t exactly recall what I did with them.’
‘Then you had better start remembering. No documents, no girl.’
‘No girl, no documents,’ he countered, hiding his impatience. ‘Take me to her. It will have a wonderful effect on my memory to see her safe and sound.’
The man looked pensively at him and Duncan could almost see his mind working. ‘You write home. Tell them to send someone with money and the papers.’ He called the landlord and asked for pen, paper and ink, which was produced after a search which had Duncan hopping from foot to foot with impatience.
