“No,” came the one word reply.
“Drat, I must have left it outside by the bench. I'll have to go fetch it to get you a dress.”
Olivia peered her head around the curtain. “I don't have time for you to hobble down there and back. Just give me the one you have on.”
Elenore blushed, as Olivia scampered out from behind the curtain, dressed in only a thin shift, apparently comfortable with her immodesty. She reached up and undid the back of Elenore's dress to aide her with her undressing. Grabbing the front of her dress so it wouldn't fall, Elenore commanded Olivia to get back behind the screen so she could remove the dress in privacy. She slid the dress behind the partition with one hand, while the other arm gripped at the front of her bodice, in an attempt to cover herself more fully.
Olivia tossed her discarded robes carelessly out to land in a heap before Elenore. “Put these on so you can go retrieve your valise.”
“Can't you be so kind as to go get it for me?”
Olivia laughed, hearing the hesitancy in her voice. “Don't be silly. Just put on the robe. You must get used to wearing it, if you are going to attempt to flee to America disguised as a nun. Besides, this way I can show you the proper way to put everything on.”
Elenore walked over and quickly began putting the foreign clothing on, anxious to acquire some modesty. The robe was thick and heavy and much looser than any of her dresses. She highly doubted she'd have to wear a corset under the billowy thing, which was one benefit of dressing as a nun, she thought somewhat gleefully.
Olivia slipped out from behind the screen and turned her back towards Elenore so she could do up the long row of buttons on her dress. Though Elenore was rather petite, Olivia was even smaller and the dress hung loosely on her frame. Turning around, Olivia put both hands on her waist and asked, “How do I look?”
“Certainly less pious than you did before,” Elenore said with a grin. “What about me? Do I look authentic? Could I pass for a nun?”
Reaching for the veil and placing it carefully atop her head, Olivia said, “There, perfect.” Elenore cringed as the headdress fell into place, covering her own hair completely. She had no idea if it was acceptable or not, but she felt completely irreverent being dressed up in the nun’s habit. She felt almost sacrilege, though Olivia hadn't seemed to be bothered by it. She had better get used to it, she told herself. The disguise might prove to be her salvation, her only way out of England.
Chapter 2
Looking around the room, Elenore sighed. She had just bade goodbye to Olivia, wishing her all the best in her new life, not sure if she should feel grateful or annoyed by the new opportunity she had presented her with. The itchy and cumbersome robe tempted her to lean towards irritation, but the thought of freedom won out, and she felt excited at the prospects that lay before her.
Looking around the small room, she glanced longingly at the bed, her body aching with tiredness, but first things first. She knew she needed to retrieve her valise, anxiety filling her at the prospect of it not being where she had left it. She grabbed the hem of her tunic and lifted it, as she began to gingerly make her way outside of the inn, her feet still bare, since the prospect of putting the boots back on was too distasteful. She let the long robes fall from her hands as she entered the main part of the inn, hoping to completely cover her feet from view.
It was with great relief that she found her valise sitting right on the ground where she had left it. She didn't even want to contemplate what she would have done had it not been there. Besides containing her one and only change of clothing, it held a pair of slippers, a cotton nightdress, a well-loved rag doll her mother had made her when she was just a babe—the only thing of real sentimental value she had brought with her---and a diamond necklace that had belonged to her grandmother. It was the only thing of value in her possession, and she had hoped to sell it to fund her trip to America, since she had no money.
She sat on the bench and rummaged through her bag, ensuring that all items were still in place. She breathed a sigh of relief when it became evident that nothing had been tampered with, the diamond necklace safely tucked away into the side pocket. She set the bag in her lap and inhaled a deep breath of the cool night air. She couldn't remember the last time she sat outside in the dark of night and took a moment to look up at the sky glittering with stars. The moon was full, causing an eerie paleness to pour over the earth. She watched as a cloud drifted over the lower half of the moon and heard an owl who in the distance.
Looking up at the vast sky made her suddenly feel alone. She wondered what Paul was doing, if he even thought of her at all. She wished that he would have been able to stay and take care of her at home in Bristol. It was hard enough losing both of her parents at once, but losing her brother to the army shortly after, had left her feeling completely abandoned. And now here she was, on her own, without a concrete plan, sitting in front of an inn by herself late at night. She tried hard to squelch the feeling of defeat that was attempting to wash over her, convincing herself that after a good night's sleep, she'd return to her usual optimistic self and be able to come up with a solution to her dilemma.
Standing, she clutched her valise tightly to her chest and looked up at the moon once more. The silence of the night was interrupted by a sudden rush of horse hooves echoing through the woods and reverberating in her ears. She looked at the road with alarm and saw a carriage rushing towards her at a reckless speed. She barely managed to take a step back and move out of the way of the oncoming conveyance, as it whipped by her in a whirl of dust, its shiny gold crest gleaming in the moonlight. As soon as it passed, she sat staring at the road after it wondering what had caused its occupants to be in such a rush to drive at such a hazardous speed. Hopefully, they didn't keep up that pace for long or those poor horses would not hold up.
Something gleaming in the moonlight caught her eye as the dust settled on the road. She squinted to see what had drawn her attention, when she noticed a coin lying in the road. It must have fallen out of the carriage. Elenore scurried into the street and bent to retrieve the coin. It was only a shilling but she dusted it off and dropped it into her valise nonetheless. Just as she was turning to head back to the inn, she heard the sound of a whip cracking the air with the accompanying sound of horse hooves.
She turned just in time to see the horse and rider come barreling directly at her. She took a step back and gasped, closing her eyes in fear, her body freezing in terror.
***
The man cursed under his breath, as the black mass in his path made no effort at getting out of his way. He knew it would be futile, but he attempted to pull back on the reins and bring his horse to a halt to avoid a collision. Although at the speed he was currently traveling, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop in time. Making a split-second decision, he grasped both reins tightly in one hand and slipped to the right side of his saddle, bending to scoop the mass up into his arms as he passed.
He was grateful that the personage wasn't very heavy, as he hoisted them up onto the saddle in front of him. His horse, Calvin, faltered momentarily under the unexpected movement and added weight, and once more the man cursed, knowing he couldn't afford to lose any more time in his pursuit. The carriage he was after was slipping further and further out of reach, and with the addition of an unexpected passenger, he wasn't sure how he was going to accomplish his mission anyway.
He groaned in frustration, as he pulled Calvin to a stop, the person in his arms twisting angrily to get a glimpse at her captor. The minute the girl turned and looked at him she immediately began screaming. Clenching his jaw in frustration, he clamped one gloved hand angrily over her mouth. The last thing he needed was to draw any attention to himself. He looked down at the squirming bundle in his arms and gasped—heaven help him, she was a nun!
His mind raced with what he was going to do, when he felt her mouth clamp down on his hand. And even through the leather glove he was wearing, he could still feel an incredible amount of pain as her
jaw clamped down tightly on his palm, her teeth attempting to tear into the flesh of his hand. He dropped his hold on her, instantly pulling his hand back at the presence of pain her bite had caused.
“What in the devil are you doing? I demand you release me at once.”
He was stunned, speechless at the sound of a curse word pouring forth from a nun's mouth. “I said,” she spit out acidly, “to release me.”
Finally, regaining his senses, he growled back, “No, not until I finish what I came to do.” He kicked Calvin into a gallop and said, “Which way did that carriage go?”
“That way, obviously.” She indicated the path directly in front of them with her hand. “Where else would they have gone?”
“I wouldn't know, since I wasn't able to follow, thanks to you. You really shouldn't make it a habit of lingering in the middle of the road. It's a very unsafe place to be.”
“And you shouldn't make it a habit of abducting unsuspecting victims off the side of the road.”
“You were hardly on the side of the road, but rather in the middle, right in the way of oncoming traffic. You should thank me for saving your life. If I hadn't scooped you up onto my horse, you would have been trampled beneath him instead.”
Elenore knew what he was saying was the truth, but she wasn't ready to back down. “Regardless of who is at fault here, I insist you take me back to the inn at once.”
“Unfortunately, I cannot. I recommend you cease complaining and hold on tight.” Without waiting for the nun's further complaints, he kicked Calvin in the flank and resumed a brisk gallop down the road, in hopes of catching up with the carriage he had been pursuing.
***
They rode in silence for miles, Elenore sitting stiffly in the saddle in front of the strange man, her arms clinging furiously to her valise as she struggled to remain balanced. She had attempted several times to get the man's attention by screaming, but he either couldn't hear her over the thundering of the horse's hooves or he chose to ignore her. She was almost positive it was the latter. Instead, she watched his strong, lean hands maneuver the reins with finesse, as she willed her mind to think about anything but the potential danger she was facing. The feel of a man’s arms around her was foreign to her, but she had to admit she liked the sensation of strong arms encircling her small frame. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to imagine that she was riding off into the sunset with her knight in shining armor, but as the horse slowed from a gallop to a lazy trot, she was snapped back to reality.
Being whisked away by a dangerous highwayman in the middle of the night was not nearly as romantic of a thought as the one she had just been enjoying, and she didn’t hesitate to let the man know how she felt. “I insist you release me at once—take me back to the inn now.”
The man heaved a sigh of frustration, and she felt a piece of fabric flicker against her cheek. She shifted uncomfortably in the saddle to get a better look at her captor and gasped; he was dressed in mostly black, albeit his stark white shirt. The top of his head was adorned with a well-worn, black tricorn hat, his face shielded by a black mask, his whole persona exuding an air of danger, the eerie shadows of the forest only adding to his mystique.
Dark eyes looked down at her. “I have every intention of ridding myself of you as soon as possible. Pardon me if I couldn't just stop what I was doing and cater to your every whim.”
Elenore scoffed at his rudeness. “Let me off this horse this instant. I refuse to be party to your company a moment longer.” Much to her surprise, the man obliged, lowering her to the ground swiftly, her valise still clasped tightly in both of her hands. She tried hard not to cringe as her sore, bare feet hit the hard ground below, but she was unsuccessful in her attempts.
The highwayman dismounted gracefully and bent to lift the hem of her robe, revealing her bare feet. Dropping her hem casually, he looked at her with humor in his eyes. She couldn't see his face behind the dratted mask, but she could have sworn he was smiling. “It appears that you should have a pleasant journey back to the inn.”
“Much more pleasant than spending any more time in your company. I assure you.”
“Suit yourself.” And with that, he mounted his horse once more and began trotting off in the opposite direction she was heading.
With each step she took, Elenore grimaced. The miles that stretched before her might as well have been akin to walking to a whole other country. She didn't think her feet would last, but she was much too proud and anxious to be rid of the dangerous man that she found she had no other option. She hadn't gotten more than a few painful feet down the road when she once more felt herself being hefted atop the horse, her valise nearly slipping out of her grasp in the process. She groaned in irritation at his handling of her, but she couldn't deny that she was relieved to not be on her feet anymore.
“You're a stubborn wench. I cannot allow you to walk back to the inn without shoes, your feet will be bloody stubs by the time you arrive.”
“Than kindly take me back,” she quipped.
“Oh, how I wish I could, but I mustn't risk detection.”
Elenore huffed loudly, not bothering to mask her growing irritation. All she wanted to do was go to bed. “Then my only option is to walk.”
“Tell me where you are headed, and I'll gladly escort you to your destination.”
Elenore froze. It seemed that the only way she'd get back to the inn and the coveted bed would be by walking, and she knew what the man said was true. Her feet wouldn't survive such a trip. She desperately racked her brain for ideas on where she could go, but nothing suitable came to mind. She was tempted to direct him to the docks, where she could attempt to gain passage to America, but she knew they weren't safe at night and she would only be trading in one form of danger for another.
It appeared that the man was growing impatient as well, for he didn't allow her much time to think before he said, “You're not the only one who is tired and wishes to be on their way. If you don't tell me where I can take you, I'll deposit you on the ground once more and leave you to your own devices.”
“Well if you must know I am hoping to head to America, but surely I can't have you take me to the docks at this time of night, can I?”
“Certainly not. When is your ship set to depart?”
“That I don't know,” she muttered truthfully.
“Have you not acquired passage? Surely somebody at the nunnery has assisted you with your travel arrangements.”
Elenore had to think fast. “Unfortunately, that is not the case. I wish to travel to America under the direction of the Lord, not the abbey. They thought me quite foolish for desiring to go to a new, untamed land, so I'm afraid I'm on this journey alone.”
“That is rather foolish of you. It's unsafe for you to make such a journey by yourself.”
“I was hoping to find some other nuns or a family perchance that is traveling and willing to take me under their wing until we arrive.”
A long silence stretched forth between them. Elenore prayed that he believed her story and couldn't detect the slight quiver in her voice as she attempted to sound convincing. She knew she couldn't very well have told him the truth. For though he was clearly no gentleman, he would surely refuse to assist her, if he knew she was the runaway ward of a duke.
Finally he spoke, “I might be able to help you.”
“Oh that reassuring,” she snapped, tired and weary and unsure she could trust his offer of assistance.
The man continued as if he hadn’t heard her, “I know of a man who could use your assistance.”
“I’m not interested in assisting any man, I assure you,” she asserted, clearly offended by his suggestion.
The man glanced down on her attire and sighed, “Of course, that’s not what I was implying. What I was referring to was a gentleman, an earl I know of that could use a nursemaid. He isn’t well, and he needs somebody to watch after him.” When Elenore didn’t immediately refuse or accept his offer he continued, “In exchange for you
r service, I may be able to arrange for your safe passage to America.”
Elenore perked up at his offer, could he really help her? “How can I be sure that you will honor your word?”
“I guess you'll have to decide if you can trust me.” He shrugged. “But, I happen to have connections to somebody who owns a shipping business and frequently sails to America. I'm sure, if I speak with him, he would gladly agree to assist you on your journey, all the while providing safe travels for you as well. His wife is often with him on his voyages and may be willing to keep your company during the duration.”
It all sounded too good to be true, but there were still some questions left unanswered. “I do not have much by way of monetary means. I'd have to know the costs up front to see if it's something I could afford.”
“I will see to it that there is no cost, as long as you agree to care for the man I have mentioned.”
“And how long do I have to care for said gentleman?” she asked warily.
The man was thoughtful for a moment before replying, “Until the end of the season in London. By then his children should be able to assist him.”
“But that's nearly three months away!” There was no way she was going to agree to assisting a sickly man for that long, not to mention that she had no desire to remain in London and risk being found out by somebody from the ton to whom she had been introduced. No there was no way she could agree to three months, whether the reward was passage to America or not. She'd just have to find her own way there.
“I'm convinced the time will fly by quickly, and before you know it, you'll be sailing towards your new life.”
“I'm afraid I have no desire to stay in London that long. I need to be getting on my way. I feel an urgency inside of me compelling me to leave.”
“Well, if it's any comfort to you, the man resides in Surrey at the moment, so you won't be in London per se, and if you'll agree to two months, we'll have a deal.”
Ladies of Deception 03 - Betraying the Highwayman Page 2
