The Captain's Mysterious Lady

by Mary Nichols

  ‘I do not need anyone to look after me, sir. And if I did, I have friends and relations who take good care of me.’

  ‘Nevertheless, that was his dying wish and I come to keep the promise I made him. He was sure you would be surrounded by unscrupulous men, from whom you would need safe guarding. Therefore, I come in all humility to offer you the protection of my name and my strong right hand.’

  She gave a gurgle of laughter, quickly sup pressed. ‘Mr Gotobed, are you asking me to marry you?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘I cannot believe you are in earnest.’

  ‘Indeed, I am. A promise made to a dying man is a promise that must be kept, and may I add that it is one I shall take pleasure in fulfilling,’ he said, smiling at her.

  ‘Then I am sorry to disappoint you, sir, but I have no wish to marry you. I hardly know you, but from what I have learned, you have not always lived on the right side of the law,’ she said bluntly.

  ‘I was wrongly and wilfully accused and found not guilty. And to be sure, you have no reason to condemn me, when you are not the little innocent you would have everyone believe. If Captain Drymore has not arrested you before now, it is because he is waiting for you to lead him to bigger fish. Marry me, and you will be safe. When the knot is tied, we will go abroad where English thieftakers cannot touch us,’ he urged.

  Susan gave a gasp, making him swing round to glare at her. She glared back, ready to defend her mistress, with tooth and nail if she had to.

  ‘Mr Gotobed,’ Amy said, smiling at Susan—she looked so fierce. ‘I wish you to leave. Now, at once. And please do not return.’

  ‘I am afraid you will come to regret your decision, dear lady. Others will come who are not so careful of you. Remember that, will you?’

  He bowed his way out and Amy sank back on to the sofa, shaking like an aspen. Susan ran to her. ‘My poor lamb,’ she said. ‘I never heard such impudence. There, he is gone now, you may be easy.’

  Amy found herself laughing and crying at the same time. ‘As if I would con tem plate marrying that…that insect! But, he has set me in turmoil again. He seemed to be threatening me and I wish, oh, how I wish, he had not spoken like that about the Captain and bigger fish. Gotobed’s up to something…’

  They turned, almost guiltily, as James came into the room. He bowed. ‘Good morning, ladies.’ He tried to sound cheerful, but the sight of Gotobed strolling nonchalantly across the draw bridge had severely strained his good humour. And Amy’s tear-streaked face did nothing to make him feel better.

  ‘Good morning, Captain.’ Amy rose and curtsied, while Susan hurriedly dipped her knee and disappeared. She evidently did not think it necessary to chaperon her mistress when the Captain called.

  ‘How are you today, Amy?’ he asked gently.

  ‘I am well. I was sketching.’

  He smiled; she was evidently not going to tell him what that muckworm had said to her. ‘More cherubs?’

  ‘No—this.’ She reached across the table to pick up her sketch book and handed it to him.

  It was of the kitchen of her house in Henrietta Street. There were two men sitting at the table, two easily recognisable men. A third, the man Billings, stood at the door. A fourth, who could only have been Amy’s husband, stood before the hearth, brandishing a knife. She had not drawn herself. ‘What is this?’

  ‘What I have remembered.’

  ‘Has it all come back to you?’ he wanted to know.

  ‘Some of it,’ she admitted.

  ‘Is that Duncan Macdonald with the knife?’

  ‘Yes. There was a violent quarrel and he tried to defend him self from the others with it, but he was no match for them and in the struggle to take it from him, he was wounded,’ she told him.

  He breathed a huge sigh of relief. ‘Thank God for that.’

  ‘What do you mean? He died!’

  ‘Yes, and I am sorry for your sake, but now you know how foolish you were to blame yourself for his death.’ He drew her down on to a sofa and sat beside her, holding her hand. ‘What happened after that?’

  ‘I helped Duncan to bed and bound up his wound,’ she said. ‘It was then he whispered to me to come here. I did not realise at the time his wound was mortal or I would never have left him.’

  ‘I have been told it would not have killed him if it had not become infected while he was in prison. As I mentioned to you before, they are not the cleanest of places.’

  ‘Oh. I did not know that. I crept out of the house in tending to find help, but the man, Billings, followed me.’ She went on to tell him what she had written that morning, about the journey and the high way men. ‘They were all coming to Highbeck,’ she said.

  ‘That much we have deduced,’ he said. ‘The question is why. What do they want? Have you remembered that?’

  ‘No. I was going to look for them and ask them what they were doing in Highbeck.’

  He was alarmed. ‘Amy, you foolish, foolish girl. Don’t you know by now, those men are dangerous?’ He tapped her drawing. ‘This proves it. If they could do that to your husband…’

  ‘Then I will ask Mr Gotobed. I doubt he would harm me.’

  ‘Amy! Amy, my love, you must not do anything of the kind. It would be madness. He is no less dangerous than the other two. Just because he pretends to be a gentleman does not mean he is one.’

  Had he really called her his love? Her heart leapt and then subsided. She had no right to hope. ‘But I have to know,’ she insisted.

  ‘I thought you had decided to let sleeping dogs lie? Go on from here, we agreed,’ he reminded her.

  ‘But I cannot go on. I cannot pretend all is well when I know it is not. And neither can you. Do not tell me you were unconcerned when my aunts said two men had been to the house because I will not believe you.’

  ‘I am concerned, but I beg of you, let me deal with it.’

  She gave a cracked laugh. ‘In your capacity as thieftaker?’

  ‘Yes, if you like.’

  ‘And having got them, what will you do with me?’

  ‘Shake some sense into you,’ he said.

  ‘Is that all?’

  ‘No,’ he said, smiling. ‘But the rest can wait. We are going riding. Go and change. I will wait for you here.’

  She was not ready to give up, but he could be obdurate as she knew very well and arguing with him would do no good. She jumped up and left him to do as he asked. He picked up the drawing to study it. She really was a talented draughtsman; the men were easily recognisable. If Smith and Randle saw the sketch, they would assume she had remembered all and that would put her in even more danger. He folded it and put it into his pocket.

  Chapter Nine

  While out riding with James, under the wide fen skies, surrounded by a countryside she loved, Amy felt more at peace. She knew she had always been happy at Highbeck and that her time married to Duncan was something best left for got ten. She did not think she had ever loved him, certainly not as she loved James Drymore. The realisation of that had come upon her slowly, day by day, as they had spent time together, learning about each other. He was everything she could wish for in a man: handsome without being vain, honest and principled, but not hard. He was also gentle and kind and protective. She knew she could trust him and what Gotobed had said was nonsense. She wished he felt the same about her, but she did not think he did. He had adored his wife, whom his sister-in-law had de scribed to her as very beautiful and good. ‘They were so in love,’ she had told her. ‘I doubt he will ever get over her death. He always wears the cravat pin she gave him.’

  James noticed how with drawn and quiet she was, which was not to be wondered at. Remembering the carnage in Henrietta Street, and then sitting down and deliberately trying to illustrate it, must have taken all her nerve. And then to have that odious Gotobed arrive to pester her was the outside of enough. He wondered if she would ever tell him what the man had said without prompting. He waited until they were walking their horses along the side of the
fen, before he mentioned the subject. ‘You had a caller this morning.’ He spoke lightly.

  ‘Mr Gotobed, yes.’

  ‘Did he upset you?’

  She turned towards him. ‘Upset? No, I was angry and then amused. He had the temerity to make me an offer…’

  ‘An offer?’ he repeated incredulously. ‘You surely do not mean an offer of marriage?’

  ‘Yes, I do. He said it was Duncan’s dying wish that he should look after me.’

  ‘Do you believe that?’ he asked.

  ‘I do not know what to believe.’

  ‘Amy,’ he said seriously, ‘you will take care when I am not with you, won’t you?’

  ‘Take care?’ she repeated.

  ‘Yes. Gotobed wants something from you, something you probably do not know you have, but he will do anything to get it.’

  She was attentive now. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘I am guessing, just as I am guessing those two men who seem to appear and disappear at will, also want something, if not from you, then from the house. If your husband told you to come here, he might also have told Gotobed why.’ The man was lodging openly at the King’s Arms, but no one knew where the other two were staying, probably in some hedge tavern some where, though they seemed able to put on the appearance of gentlemen when it suited them. He wished he knew where they were and what they planned. He and Sam had searched the grounds and every barn, cart shed, stable, even the tower, although there was nothing there but an empty cone of brick with a winding stair to its top from which they could survey the countryside for miles. They had found nothing and no one.

  ‘Perhaps there was no reason except that Duncan knew I would be safe here,’ she suggested.

  ‘I pray to God you are right.’

  ‘You are frightening me.’

  ‘I do not mean to. There is nothing to fear so long as you do not admit strangers to the house and take care to lock all doors and windows when you retire for the night.’

  ‘You will suggest pulling up the draw bridge next.’ She laughed to lighten the atmosphere, which had become very sombre.

  He responded with a wry smile. ‘I doubt you could make it work. It must be an age since it was last used.’ He wanted to search the house, but as he had no idea what they would be looking for, he refrained from suggesting it. Sam’s idea of the Arkaig treasure seemed too far out to be given credence.

  ‘Do not say anything of that to my aunts,’ she said. ‘It will alarm them. I will instruct the servants to take especial care and go round myself last thing at night to make sure all is secure.’

  ‘Good. And do not admit Mr Gotobed again.’

  Although he had spoken without inflection, she detected something in his voice that made her turn and look at him. He was staring straight ahead, his hands on his reins, apparently relaxed, but his jaw was rigid and she noticed him swallow hard. He cared! Cared enough to be a little jealous, perhaps?

  ‘He spoke of leaving the country when we married,’ she said. ‘He seemed to think I needed to escape the law and a certain thief taker.’

  He turned sharply towards her and realised she was smiling. Her lovely eyes were looking at him in a teasing manner and he laughed at himself to think that she could roast him into betraying his feelings. Not that he had not done so already, in a hundred different ways, even before he realised it himself. He knew now, without a shadow of doubt, that he loved her and could not live without her, that she was his whole life. But before anything could be said, there were obstacles to overcome and he hoped and prayed they would not be in surmountable.

  ‘Do you want to escape?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Do I need to?’ she countered.

  He reined in and dismounted, then went over to her and held out his hand to help her dismount. She slid from the saddle into his arms where he held her. ‘Not from me, you do not.’

  ‘I am glad of that.’

  ‘Tell me, you did give him his turnabout, didn’t you?’

  She looked up into his face and smiled because he looked so severe. ‘Did you think for one minute I would entertain the idea of marrying that…that creature? He makes my flesh crawl.’ She shuddered to prove it.

  He laughed and the next moment he was kissing her. He simply could not help it. Her face tip tilted towards his; her shining eyes, which he had seen in all her moods, from joyous to troubled, and her rose-coloured lips, oh, those kissable lips, invited him to succumb. And this time he did.

  She knew she had asked for it and could not even pretend to be angry with him. She put her arms up and round his neck so that her fingers teased his hair out of its queue, and whole heartedly kissed him back. Everything else was for got ten in the wonder of it. His mouth was firm but gentle, his lips teasing hers apart. Her whole body was quivering with unalloyed joy. It was some time before either drew breath and then it was because they heard a cackle behind them and both swung round guiltily to face Widow Twitch, who was standing between their horses with the reins of both in her hands.

  ‘Well, my beauties,’ she said, looking from one red face to the other. ‘Is all resolved?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Amy asked, straightening her hat, while James endeavoured to tie his queue back into place.

  ‘Why, your searches. Has your memory returned and has the Captain found the peace he craves?’

  ‘Yes,’ James said.

  ‘No,’ Amy said. She was in a dream. Could a man kiss like that and awaken in her all kinds of strange responses, if there was not something special between them, some spark which would take so little to ignite? She knew it for love, but did he?

  ‘Oh, I see you do not agree.’ The old lady chuckled. ‘You must endeavour to do so soon or there will be more misunderstandings, more calamities. Did the rosemary work?’

  ‘No, it gave me night mares,’ Amy said. ‘I wish I had never put it under my pillow.’

  ‘But the night dreams were necessary for you to move forwards, my dear. There can be no standing still and no going back wards—’

  ‘Away with you, woman,’ James put in. ‘You state the obvious. There is nothing magic about what you say.’

  ‘I never claimed to deal in magic, only in wisdom. I am a wise woman, not a witch.’

  He laughed. ‘I stand corrected. Now, if you will excuse us, we will continue our ride.’ He took the reins from her and turned to help Amy mount, half-glad, half-sorry they had been interrupted before he lost all sense of propriety. But the woman was right; they had to resolve their outstanding problems before they could go forwards. And he was becoming more and more impatient.

  ‘Those you are seeking can be found in Ely,’ the old lady said.

  He was about to mount, but turned back. ‘What do you know of them?’

  ‘I was told you had been asking for news of them. I heard them talking outside the King’s Arms yesterday afternoon while they were waiting for the stage.’

  ‘Where in Ely?’ he asked eagerly.

  ‘I do not know. They didn’t mention it.’

  ‘Oh, James,’ Amy said. ‘You think those men were my aunts’ visitors, don’t you? And they are the ones I drew.’

  ‘Probably,’ he said, putting his hand over hers as they gripped her reins. He did not say he knew who they were. It would only add to her distress. ‘Come, let us go home.’

  He mounted and they rode back towards the Manor in silence. If Smith and Randle were in Ely, he would root them out and arrest them; they would not escape again. Amy must not suffer as poor Caroline had done. Amy would take heed of his advice to make all doors and windows secure, but ought he perhaps arrange for someone to be on guard at night?

  They entered the court yard and were surprised to see a mountain of luggage being unloaded from a carriage. Both vehicle and horses were covered in fine dust, as if they had travelled a long distance. Hurriedly dismounting, they went inside to find Sophie and Harry Portman ensconced in the drawing room with the aunts, drinking tea and eating cakes. Sophie wa
s wearing a wide-panniered gown in yellow-andgreen striped taffeta, while Harry’s coat was in pale blue satin embroidered in silver. It had rows of silver buttons and must have cost him all of twenty guineas. Both wore white powdered wigs.

  ‘Mama!’ Amy exclaimed, running forwards to greet her. ‘What are you doing here?’ She turned to Harry, who had risen on her entry. ‘I beg your pardon, Mr Portman. How do you do?’

  He bowed with a flourish. ‘Mrs Macdonald, your obedient.’ He turned to produce a slightly less formal bow to James. ‘Captain Drymore, your servant, sir.’

  James returned the bow. ‘Good day to you, sir.’

  ‘Sit down, everyone,’ Harriet instructed them. ‘Captain, you will take tea?’

  ‘I shall be de lighted, thank you.’

  Everyone found seats. ‘Your mother has caught us unawares,’ Harriet said, addressing Amy. ‘We had no idea she was coming.’

  ‘I have been worrying about Amy,’ Sophie explained. ‘She seemed so unwell when we saw her and I felt I should have done more for her…’

  James thought this sentiment a little late in coming, but supposed it was better late than never.

  ‘I under stood,’ Amy said. ‘And to be sure I was made welcome at Colbridge House.’

  ‘So I discovered when I called there. I did not know you had decided to return to Highbeck so soon. But no matter—The Beggar’s Opera has finished its run and I do not start new rehearsals for two weeks, so I decided to come and see how you did. And Mr Portman was so good as to give me his escort.’

  ‘The servants are preparing rooms,’ Harriet said. She was a little stiff as if she were not sure she welcomed the visitors. James wondered if she had taken his warning to heart about not being too hospitable and was obeying it to the letter. Or she disapproved of her sister’s relationship with Portman. Or perhaps she was afraid Sophie meant to take her niece away. She need not worry on that score; if Amy went anywhere it would be with him. But nothing like that could happen until the whole mystery was solved and everyone safe from harm.