The Riddle of the Deplorable Dandy

by Patricia Veryan

  Mrs. Newell uttered a muffled protest.

  “Very amusing,” said Elspeth huffily. “What next will you propose, I wonder?”

  “Several things occur to me…,” he murmured, scanning her provocatively.

  Her eyes searched his face and he raised his brows and blinked at her, the picture of innocence. “Ah, but I collect you refer to my aunt’s transfer to the packet? Nothing could be simpler. Herbert will go aboard and wait at the rail and I’ll heave her over to him.”

  Elspeth’s lower lip sagged. “H-heave … her?”

  “Just so.”

  “From … here?”

  “Well, I told you I’m not capable of—”

  Recovering her aplomb, she interrupted severely, “I wish you will not talk nonsense, Mr. Valerian!”

  He chuckled, then turned away as a sailor crossed the deck to the gangplank and bellowed at them, “We’m casting off direct-like, sir. Cap’n says be pleased to come aboard.”

  Valerian bent over his aunt and detached Pixie from her lap. Thrusting the little cat at Elspeth, he said, “Don’t drop this, if you—” He straightened and jerked around as a horse galloped across the cobbles towards them. The rider was tall, and as he sprang from the saddle Elspeth’s heart did its now familiar leap into her throat.

  Valerian called irately, “Fitz! You shouldn’t be seen here, you idiot. If that Riding Officer is still lurking about—”

  “He ain’t.” The clergyman dragged a sheaf of papers from the pocket of his riding coat. “Forgot to give you the documents I promised.”

  “You gave ’em to me, you block.”

  “Those are for your—er, aunt. These are what we’ve been able to learn of Miss Elspeth’s brother. You’ll have to commit them to memory in case you’re questioned on the other side.”

  An urgent shout from the packet spurred Valerian to action. He shoved the papers at Herbert, saying a terse, “Thanks, Fitz. Now go!”

  “I’ll help you carry her. You can’t—”

  “Devil I can’t! Go!”

  Boudreaux tightened his lips, glanced at Elspeth, then met Valerian’s eyes in a steady stare.

  Valerian slid one arm under his aunt’s knees. She said in rather an odd voice, “I’m no lightweight, you know, Gervaise. Are you sure you—”

  He swung her into his arms and called a breathless, “Take the ladies first, Herbert, and do try not to drop the Bath chair over the side!”

  Obediently, Herbert, carrying the Bath chair, led the way. Elspeth and Freda followed, gingerly clutching the rope that formed a crude handrail alongside.

  Valerian said tersely, “All right, Fitz. What is it?”

  “That fellow in the park who heaved the muddy ball at your nose,” muttered Boudreaux. “Navy, ain’t he?”

  “Who did—what? Oh! You mean Skye. Yes, he’s Navy. And what a’Beelzebub d’ye find so fascinating about the dolt that you must keep me balancing on this confounded plank swing whilst you babble—”

  “Why would he follow you down here?”

  Valerian tensed. “You’re sure he has?”

  “Came into the High Tide just after you left. Told the host he was a friend of yours and asked if you’d hired rooms.”

  Reeling as the gangplank swung violently, Valerian said, “Skye has a tendre for Miss Clayton. The silly clod probably fancies I’m abducting the chit, is all.”

  “He don’t know Miss Clayton is here. And he’s not after you at this moment because I set a couple of my fellows to—ah, delay him. Poor chap. I’m afraid it’s more likely that he’s working with Joshua Swift and the Intelligence lot.”

  Mrs. Newell said huskily, “Put me down, Gervaise. I can manage.”

  Breathless but determined, Valerian snapped, “Certainly not. If that miserable hound Joshua Swift’s after us, I’m obliged to you, Fitz, for delaying Skye. Adieu, m’friend. We’ll be under way in a few minutes and—”

  “And Skye will be hard after you in the first frigate he can commandeer!”

  “Perhaps. But you’ve done your best. Now—get ye gone, man!”

  Elspeth, meanwhile, holding the alarmed Pixie tightly, was making her difficult way down to the ship. She was almost across when the gangplank lurched sickeningly beneath her. The little cat uttered a yowl and dug in her claws. Whispering a prayer, Elspeth tightened her grip on the rope, felt Freda clutching at her cloak and between wind gusts heard the maid’s moaned lamentations. The ship loomed close at last, heaving but offering a far more steady surface than the erratically gyrating gangplank. Herbert was waiting to take her arm, assist Freda and give her the box of earth which had been provided by the obliging landlord for Pixie’s use.

  Elspeth turned anxiously. The Reverend Mr. Boudreaux, his cloak flying in the wind, was walking backwards up the bank, watching Valerian’s less than rapid progress. Her eyes glued on that same progress, it seemed to Elspeth that with Mrs. Newell in his arms he was taking two steps back for every one step forwards, and she gave a gasp of fright as an inrushing wave caused the packet to yaw dangerously.

  A seaman rushed up, howling something about making the gangplank secure. Before Elspeth’s horrified eyes the flimsy structure sagged to the left. The chain which secured that side to the deck snapped. The seaman reacted without hesitation, catching the chain and hanging on for dear life as another sailor ran to help. Suddenly icy-cold, Elspeth heard Freda scream and her heart seemed to stop beating. She paid no heed to the frigid blast of wind that sent her skirts flying, her entire concentration was on that slim figure swaying on the rocking gangplank. It was all too evident that Valerian could no longer keep his balance and retain his hold on his aunt, but if he set the poor lady down she would surely fall—

  Imbued with the strength of desperation, Valerian hurled himself across the last few feet and reached the deck even as the chain was torn from the sailor’s hands and the gangplank plunged down towards the black and icy water.

  Herbert took Mrs. Newell, and Valerian sank to his knees, panting heavily.

  “Jolly good, Gervaise,” said Herbert, assisting the invalid into the Bath chair.

  “Thank heaven you’re both safely aboard,” said Elspeth, able to breathe again. “That last gust was hair-raising.”

  “But worth it!” Valerian was very pale as he knelt there looking up at her, but he managed an unsteady laugh. “Since it raised a few other charming things besides!”

  His eyes quizzed her and she felt her cheeks grow hot. “Oh! You are disgraceful,” she exclaimed, holding down her flying skirts.

  “I’m alive,” he retorted, and getting to his feet bent over his aunt, and added: “No thanks to you, m’dear. You weigh a ton!”

  In view of the lady’s frailty, Elspeth thought his remark an unkind exaggeration, but the memory of that teetering gangplank gave her gooseflesh and she made no comment. Mrs. Newell reached up for her pet and Elspeth dropped the little cat into her lap, then took the chair’s handles and remarked shiveringly that the wind was bitter. “We must get you inside, ma’am.”

  She had spoken soothingly, for she would not have been surprised had Mrs. Newell lapsed into hysterics after such a terrifying ordeal, but the invalid was made of sterner stuff and showed no sign of tears or agitation. A deckhand came up and shouted an offer to show them to their cabin. He and Herbert had to lift the chair over the raised threshold, but when Elspeth made to follow, Valerian put his arm across the doorway. “You’re worn to a shade, ma’am,” he said with rare kindness. “Herbert will conduct you and Beck to your own cabin so you may rest.”

  Astonished, she protested, “No such thing! I agreed to take care of your aunt. She must be—”

  “Accustomed to her needs being attended to by me. Run along now. Herbert will arrange for tea or whatever you may—” His words were cut off as the packet dropped like a stone and then rocked wildly with much creaking of woodwork, augmented by the howl of the wind and crashings of fallen objects.

  Herbert was taken off-balance and
went flying across the cabin to land sprawling on a bunk. Valerian swore and made a wild lunge for the Bath chair but it collided with the wash-stand and spun before toppling. Elspeth was clinging to the door handle, and her horror was supplanted by surprise as Mrs. Newell sprang from the chair in the nick of time while managing to retain her hold on Pixie.

  Valerian threw an arm about her shoulders. “Well done, m’dear,” he said with obvious pride.

  “Well done, indeed,” said Elspeth, staring at the older lady in no little astonishment.

  Valerian glanced at her. “Yes. Well, I think we may take it that we’re under way.” He assisted his now wilting aunt onto a bunk. “Come, Miss Elspeth. I’ll escort you and Beck to your cabin.”

  “Thank you, no. The sailors will conduct us and you’d best stay with Mrs. Newell. She must be very shaken. In fact I really think I should—”

  “I’m sure you do, but it’s not necessary, I promise you. Besides, I must find those fellows who hung onto the gangplank. Had it not been for their extraordinary presence of mind, Geraldine and I would likely have had our notice to quit!”

  Herbert tottered over to the invalid and Valerian opened the cabin door and ushered the two women into the windy darkness.

  The motion of the ship confirmed his surmise that they were under way and made progress along the lurching deck no easy feat. Valerian opened the door to a small cabin. There were two bunks, and the light from a lamp attached to the wall revealed neat surroundings, and cleaner bedding than Elspeth had dared to hope for.

  Valerian promised that hot tea and a supper would be delivered to them as soon as possible and bade them an optimistic good night.

  Elspeth laid a detaining hand on his arm and asked how long the voyage was likely to take.

  He shrugged. “Hard to say in this wind, ma’am. Perhaps six hours, perhaps sixty. You have my word that I’ll advise you in plenty of time before we disembark.”

  Sixty hours! Her thoughts flew to her beloved brother and her heart sank. She managed to say, “Thank you. Meanwhile, if your aunt needs me, pray do not hesitate to let me know. I cannot feel I am living up to my part of our bargain by abandoning her in this fashion.”

  Searching her face, he saw that she was really troubled. He said, “You’ve done more than you know, Miss Elspeth. Now rest easy. We’ll get to your brother in time, I promise you, despite this exuberant vessel!”

  A flashing grin with a lack of cynicism that made him look unexpectedly boyish, and he was gone.

  Oddly confused, Elspeth gazed at the closing door.

  Beck said, “Now there’s a gent as leaves me all at sixes and sevens. One minute a sharp word as fair skewers a body, and the next he’s got his arm round me, keeping me from falling on that slippery deck.”

  “As any gentleman should do, Freda.”

  “Aye. For the likes o’ you, miss. But there’s a many as wouldn’t bother to aid the likes o’ a humble servant girl.”

  “Then such a creature could in no way be named a gentleman!”

  Taking her lady’s cloak, Freda murmured blandly, “Nor Mr. Valerian quite so deplorable as you thunk, eh, miss?”

  For a moment Elspeth did not reply, then she said lightly, “I’ll reserve judgment till he’s fetched us our tea, though he has likely quite forgot about it.”

  In this, however, she was mistaken. Valerian fought his way along to the ship’s galley and ordered the nimbly swaying cook to have tea sent to both “Nurse Cotton” and his own cabin. Having accomplished this, he and the cook helped each other to regain their feet.

  “A bit of a blow, sir,” said the cook, his weathered features wreathed in a grin.

  “Is that what you call it? I’d judge it a sizeable hurricane! Shall you be able to send the tea before we’re on the bottom?”

  Assured that the tea would arrive “in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” Valerian slipped a tip into a ready hand and struggled back to join Herbert and Mrs. Newell.

  It was a headlong journey. The wind battered at him and an icy rain sent stinging drops at his face so that he bowed his head against it. Opening the cabin door gratefully, he entered with an unrehearsed rush, threw back the hood of his cloak and said laughingly, “Well, the first step is done, praise—”

  He stopped abruptly and stood very still.

  A long duelling pistol was aiming steadily at his heart and a pair of dark eyes watched him with icy inflexibility.

  “Skye!” he half-whispered, frustrated and furious.

  Joel Skye said coolly, “You surely didn’t fancy you’d get away with it, did you, Valerian?”

  7

  Between a series of involuntary sprints from one side of the cabin to the other, Freda Beck moaned, “Whatever Madame … will have to say … I dare’st not think.” Returning at speed to the valise she was in the process of unpacking, she clung to the side of the bunk and detached a dressing gown and nightdress. “Here miss. You’ll like to put on your night-rail—oops!—I fancy. Though never did I dream … as I’d be getting you ready for bed in a horrid boat ’stead of … stead of your friend’s house, as you’d planned.”

  “Nor I.” Elspeth sat on the bunk and hung on for dear life as she took off her wet shoes. She said wearily, “But I’ll shed no more than my gown tonight, Freda. With luck we’ll reach land by morning in spite of this dreadful gale. Besides, I want to be ready to help with Mrs. Newell should she need me.”

  Assisting her young mistress with buttons, Freda sniffed, then snatched for the side of the bunk as the cabin lunged upwards, then dropped alarmingly. Her voice shook when she gulped, “I suppose we can swim as well in our petticoats as in our night-rail.”

  “I pray it won’t come to that.” Elspeth forced a smile. “My brother holds that I’m something lacking in sporting accomplishments. Can you swim, Freda?”

  Balancing precariously while extracting a brush and comb and hand mirror from the valise, Beck was shocked. “Swim? Lor’, but I surely can’t, miss! Me pa holds as folks what jump about in the water, even if no more’n a lake or a river, is tempting Providence. And as for sea-water, ’tis full of germs and ugly wriggling things, he says, and nine times out of ten them what flaunts about in it is struck down by a fateful disease sooner or later! And now—only look at us! I got splashed all over with sea-water on that horrid deck outside, and you did as well!” Having succeeded in frightening herself, she recovered a small box of tooth powder and a toothbrush and, clutching them to her bosom, turned to Elspeth and cried tearfully, “Oh, miss! Whatever is we doing here? With Mr. Valerian (what is if I dare remark it, naughty—for all he’s as handsome as he can stare!)—What with him calling everyone by the wrong names, and his lady aunt what is so very strange, and Mr. Herbert who I declare looked so green as grass just now!” She frowned, having lost her train of thought, then said, “I know you’re trying to help dear Mr. Vance out’ve some trouble, but—oh, miss! If you had just spoke to your fine uncle about whatever ’tis, ’stead of running off like this! Sir Brian is a proper gentleman and would’ve been glad to help Mr. Vance. And Mr. Conrad Beech too, I ’spect.”

  “So they said.” Elspeth sighed. To have been able to allow a male member of her family to shoulder the responsibility for rescuing Vance would have been such a tremendous relief. Heaven knows she was doing her very best for the brother she adored, but she was all too aware that she was a woman in a man’s world, a world that seemed to delight in throwing formidable obstacles in her path. The truth was that she should probably have jumped at her uncle’s offer of help the instant he made it. Looking back, she wondered why she had not done so. Except—Sir Brian was so very fastidious and fashionable and rather languid-seeming … In fact, another of the obnoxious Dandy set! She thought guiltily, ‘But very kind, I’m sure!’ And although Cousin Conrad had grown to be elegant and charming and it would be the height of folly to hold long-ago childish pranks against him, he hadn’t impressed her as being a man of action.

  She frowned. So only
look to whom foolishness and hesitancy had led her! Gervaise Valerian was not in the least languid, and with a reputation for duelling he very likely courted danger. He was also insolent, sarcastic, abrupt, hasty-tempered and another Dandy. And yet … she sensed a restrained power about the man; the occasional glint in his grey eyes … very beautiful grey eyes they were, deep-set, darkly lashed, so much like those of his aunt … She pulled herself up hurriedly. Whatever was she rambling on about? Oh, yes—resolution, that was it. She had glimpsed resolution in Mr. Valerian’s eyes, and that strong chin argued stubbornness, which led her to believe he would not be turned aside from his chosen path, whatever obstacles were thrown in his way.

  She looked up. Beck had said something and was staring at her. “I’m sorry, Freda. I was wool-gathering. What did you say?”

  “You said as Sir Brian had offered to help, miss.”

  “Yes, he did. But you see, I scarcely know him. I’ve not so much as seen him for years and years. It seemed such a lot to ask. Besides, when I did decide to accept his offer he and my cousin had left Town. Goodness knows how long they will be gone and I dare not wait. Mr. Vance is in terrible danger. I need help right away and Mr. Valerian is willing to—”

  She broke off as someone pounded at the door. Beck staggered to respond, and Elspeth gathered her dressing gown about her as the wind sent sheets of rain inside and Beck conducted a brief and howled conversation with a sailor. He went off, having imparted the cheering news that just about everyone aboard was “so sick as any dawgs” and that “this here blow” might delay them a hour “or several” but that “pretty li’l Mistress Beck and her lady” wasn’t to be in a taking because the skipper knowed his business and would bring ’em all safe into harbour. Beck informed him that he was too saucy for his own good and slammed the door. She carried in the deep covered tray he had brought and remarked indignantly that all sailors were terrible flirtatious, but since her cheeks were quite rosy and her eyes very bright, Elspeth doubted her maid’s sensibilities had been greatly offended.