Tom could agree with that. “He doesn’t seem to be the sort of man who would let an insult pass. Even if he could do little himself, he’d make sure the authorities caught them.”
“An insult?” I echoed and only just remembered to lower my voice, so nobody could overhear us. “If I were taken from him after he’s let me so far in, it could kill him. It would destroy him as a person. He’d never trust anyone again, never let any tenderness in.” I would have cried, had I not been so angry. Not with Tom, but with the thought anyone should hurt Richard to that extent. I remembered what he had told me on that night we spent together; how I would be the last person he lost. I didn’t doubt him. My death would mean his death, too.
No one must know the power they had over Richard by holding me. I’d told Tom, but I don’t think he believed the half of it. I trusted Tom not to tell anyone, but no one else must know.
I wondered what they would do now, what would be the best course to take. “What would you be doing now, Tom, if you were in your father’s shoes?”
Tom had obviously been thinking along the same lines, because he answered me promptly. “I’d alert the authorities, such as they are, get a band of men together and begin to search. It seems the most sensible thing to do. I’ve been hoping they’ll find us, but I’ve heard nothing, and I’ve been listening.” So had I. “I still have no idea where we are, but they must be sure of us. I think we’re in one of those places they use to hide contraband, perhaps in a barn or a cottage.”
I thought hard, frowning. I saw the truth of it. “They won’t know that. They don’t know where we are. I wonder if I’ll get my ring back?”
“I doubt it. They won’t let a ruby like that go. They’ll probably show your family, but keep it. It could pay for a run or two on its own.”
“He said it took him some time to find it. He won’t want to let them have it.”
“I don’t think they’ll give him much choice.”
We had no way of telling the time; they had taken Tom’s watch and I hadn’t been carrying one, but it must have been an hour or two at least before the door opened and someone stood there, silhouetted in the dazzling light outside. It was someone well dressed, someone who stared at us for some time before he stepped inside and took the chair brought in for him. It was Mr. Norrice Terry.
Chapter Nineteen
Tom and I stared at him, lost for words. A slow smile spread across his heavy features. “You weren’t expecting visitors, perhaps?” he asked, his voice thick with what sounded to me like pleasure.
I said nothing. It was obvious he hadn’t come to rescue us, so what was the point? Why was he here?
Terry was at ease in this room. I suspected he knew it well. The man behind him held two flintlocks trained on us, not on Mr. Terry.
He fingered the fine lace at his throat. “So how exactly did you think I raised the money to let my wife and daughter live in the style to which they’ve become so accustomed?”
Tom was seething, but I didn’t want him to let his rage boil over. This was obvious provocation, and I wouldn’t let Terry have the satisfaction of seeing my emotions. I tried with every ounce of willpower I possessed to stay cool, not to let go. “Do they know?” I asked in tones as measured as I could muster.
“My wife suspects, but as long as the money is forthcoming, she doesn’t ask awkward questions. Eustacia doesn’t have the least idea. Her mind is on other things.”
He looked at me, considering. “She wants your lordling.”
“I should be sorry to disappoint her,” I replied politely, “but I’m afraid he’s spoken for.”
“That remains to be seen,” said the fat man, sitting back at his ease. “I’ve promised her she shall have him.”
“But the wedding’s next Thursday.” Tom’s impulsive cry gave Terry an opening.
“Not if the bride isn’t there. Don’t mistake me, you were taken for purely commercial reasons, but if I can do my daughter a favour at the same time by keeping you a few days longer, then I will consider it.”
“But he won’t marry Eustacia.” I tried desperately to think of some way to persuade him to release us.
“He might, if she was there to console him for your terrible abduction,” Terry told me. “Who knows? I can only give her the chance. It’s the least a man can do for his daughter.” He was prepared to go that far then, to let his daughter throw herself at Richard. I supposed Terry thought, along with many other people, that Richard was undiscriminating in his tastes, that any woman would do. But the thought of missing my wedding filled me with despair, and I sank my head forward on to my knees, so Terry wouldn’t see the tears.
“How long have you been in league with these people?” Tom must have seen my distress, and I realised he was trying to distract our captor.
“Since the Cawntons came and asked to use my barns. About five years, I suppose. I saw the contraband, realised how much profit could be made, and bought in. I’ve run the gang in conjunction with the Cawntons ever since. By the way,” he added casually, “the view from here could be improved. I’ve had an ambition for some time now.” His next statement came out of the blue. “Miss Golightly, will you do me the honour of removing your upper clothes for me? I would ask for them all, but that will come later.”
I felt the colour drain from my face. He continued, speaking in the same tones he used in Martha’s drawing room, as he sat back smiling greasily. I met his lascivious stare. “I thought we weren’t to be touched.”
Terry let his pale stare slip over my body. I felt naked already. “That was Cawnton, my dear. This is me. The first time I saw you I thought you would strip to advantage, and I’d dearly love to see if I was right.” His voice hardened. “Do it.”
I sat still. The man who had his guns trained on us didn’t move, but a smile spread across his face. I would get no help there. Tom, next to me, sprang to his feet, and called Terry all the names he could think of, but the man watched him, and smiled.
“Sit down, Tom,” Terry said, then turned back to me with a leer. “If you do this for me, my dear, I’ll let you see what’s happening outside. I’ll wager you don’t even know where you are.”
The thought came to both Tom and me at the same time. “Penfold,” we said in unison.
Terry smiled. “Very good. And in case you wondered, my wife, daughter and most of my household are in Exeter, preparing for your wedding and meeting as many of the great and good as they can. So, there’s no one to hear your shouts. No one who cares, that is. But we’re getting away from the point. I meant what I said.”
He stood up and came over to where Tom sat, and deliberately hit him on the point on his head where he had been knocked out when we’d been taken. Tom fell back, and Terry kicked him hard in the groin. Tom cried out, and his face contorted in pain. Terry drew back his boot for another swing, and I cried out for him to stop. He turned to look at me, still smiling, and I undid the first hook.
He watched while I undid my bodice and loosened the fastenings, releasing the drawstring on my shift, so he could see what he wanted to. I sat with my hands in my lap and met him stare for stare, swallowing the bile that rose in my throat.
He took a long look and then sighed happily. “I knew I was right.” The man behind him also stared. I felt like a curiosity of nature, but I sat still, the only expression on my face one of contempt. “When you’re in my presence, I want you to appear like that. It gives me something to look at in this featureless place.”
He gestured to the man, who crossed the room towards me. For one moment, I thought he was going to lay hands on me. Listing my rank or the rank of my husband-to-be would garner nothing but derision in this place. I only had my wits and Tom to help me here. I felt sick and afraid, but he walked past me to the wall behind us.
I turned to see what the man was doing, and saw him fiddle with a catch on the floor. A section of the wall opened. Light streamed through, making me lift a hand to my eyes to shade the dazzling stream. Tom
, choking from his beating, sat up by my side.
“I’ll keep my promise,” said our tormentor. “In half an hour I’m to receive some visitors you know well. They’ll ask for my help in locating you two. I’m going to let you see them beg.”
I couldn’t imagine Richard and Sir George begging, but I imagined Terry would try to make them. “Turn back, my dear. I can’t see you properly.” I obeyed, and he delivered his next speech to my breasts. It made me uncomfortable, to say the least, but I sat still, trying not to give him any provocation either to hit Tom again or to make any move towards me.
“You can watch. But you’ll have your hands tied while they’re here, and Peter will hold a pistol against each of your heads. If either of you moves or makes any sound, you’ll both be shot. I hope that’s clear.”
He waited until we’d acknowledged him, then he stood up. “I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, still not looking at my face. He left the room.
As soon as he’d gone I took the drawstring of my shift and pulled it tight, to cover myself again. The man with the pistols didn’t stop me, but waited until I’d buttoned my jacket before he went outside and returned with another man who tied our hands behind our backs, this time with broad leather straps. I was glad they hadn’t used rope again, because I still had sore, red marks on my wrists from the last time. These straps didn’t cut in and hurt as much, but they held us as firmly.
He took Tom and me over to the chink in the wall, wide enough for us to see through, and made us sit. Then he left and the man called Peter came over. Cold iron pressed against my head, and I knew it for the muzzle of a pistol.
We waited in silence, Tom still labouring for breath. We said nothing, not daring to in case Terry’s orders were peremptorily carried out.
We stared down into a moderately sized room, a study by the look of it. There was a window on one wall, which showed us we were at least one storey up in the house. This room must be a concealed one, accessible from the room above rather than this one, as our floor was about half way up the wall of the study. Perhaps it was an old priests’ hole, or had been deliberately constructed to conceal contraband. There was a large desk in front of the window, and we watched Terry enter in and sit down. He looked up to where we watched and smiled, and then the doorbell sounded.
Within five minutes four people came in, and as they came into our field of vision we saw their unsmiling faces, their short bows to Terry. Sir George Skerrit looked haggard, his usually cheerful face drawn and white. Carier looked his usual stoical self. Richard and Gervase seemed no different. I wished I could see his eyes, see what I could read there. Had he guessed? That Carier was there indicated Thompson’s’ involvement, but I didn’t know, couldn’t guess what they planned.
“I’m extremely sorry to hear your trouble,” Terry began smoothly, after they had declined any refreshment. “Have you had any word at all?”
Sir George sat heavily and drew out his kerchief. “Nothing, but I can guess what they want.” I was so sorry to see him in such a state, and I knew Tom, breathing slowly beside me, was grieved to see his father so affected. His mother and sister must be beside themselves with worry. “We’ve searched the villages, we’ve asked everyone, but no one will admit to having seen them.”
So far, Richard had said nothing. He toyed pensively with his snuff box, but I saw his quick glances, taking in all the details of the room. “We can only hope they will be restored to you safe and sound,” said Terry. His expression would have fooled a paying audience. I had the mad desire to spit on him, but even that wasn’t worth my life.
“If they’re not,” said Richard, speaking for the first time, “others will die.”
He put the little box away, and drew something else from his pocket. He held them out, on his open palm for everybody to see. My ring, and Tom’s fob.
Richard threw the ring in the air, caught it, and looked up as he did so. So close. I nearly burst. I called out to him in my mind, but he didn’t see me, didn’t seem to feel my presence.
Terry’s heavily jowled face held an expression of mild surprise. “Really, sir, I don’t think we need to get so intemperate.”
“Yes we do,” Richard stated. “We’ve been making certain enquiries on our rampage through the villages. I never hoped to find them, but I’ve found out certain other facts, and I’ve gained some counters. You’ll deal with me, Terry.”
Terry kept his expression of surprise. “Well, I’ll do what I can, as you know I don’t hold myself aloof from these people as others do—” He glanced at Sir George enquiringly.
Richard waited for the fat man’s full attention. “We know you’re more directly involved than that.”
“You have proof of this, I presume?” drawled Terry urbanely.
“We don’t need proof,” Richard said, “since we don’t propose to take this to the authorities.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” Terry leaned back in his chair, his hands steepled, his expression one of polite interest.
What would happen if I screamed? One of us would be shot, but they would hear us, and know. No, it wasn’t worth the risk. That man couldn’t miss. One of us would die.
“You know us, we know you,” Richard said. Terry looked at him enquiringly and Richard sighed. “Very well. You and the Cawntons are in league together and you share the profits of these runs. You know my man here,” he indicated Carier with a courtly gesture, and Terry bowed his head low, smiling in mockery. “He has offered to act as go-between, should this business require one.”
“I shall appoint my own,” Terry said.
So far, Gervase hadn’t spoken, but he was looking, looking all the time. While Richard was speaking to Terry, keeping his attention, Gervase examined every part of the room from floor to ceiling. I began to pray.
“You have my property,” Richard said flatly. I knew immediately that he, too, had realised what Terry would do if he knew how much I meant to him. “I want it back. In perfect condition.”
“It might be a little—sullied.” Terry smiled.
Richard’s chest rose sharply when he took a short breath, but the expression on his face remained the same. “It would be extremely unfortunate if it were damaged in any way.” His urbane tones indicated nothing. He might have been talking about anything, a piece of furniture perhaps, or a dinner service.
“Would it still be acceptable to you?” said Terry.
“It depends,” was the measured reply. “What are your terms?”
Terry crossed to the sideboard beneath us and poured himself a glass of wine. The others refused when he motioned at them with the decanter. He went back to his seat and sipped. “Tomorrow night,” he said eventually, when they had waited long enough, “is the biggest run of the year so far. It must not be jeopardised, and we need more resting-places than usual. You, Sir George, will provide us with what we need, and you, Lord Strang, will prevail upon Sir James—I mean, of course, Lord Hareton, to do the same. When we have moved the items away, if things go according to plan, this should be Sunday, you will get your property back. Maybe. If you don’t comply, you will not see them again.”
Richard sighed regretfully. “That’s not acceptable.”
“You’ll find it is,” Terry said, a little more strongly.
“No.” Richard glanced at Gervase, then Carier, then back at his quarry. “We’ll give you your precious run, even the storage space, but the exchange must take place on the night of the run, before the goods are brought ashore.”
“Exchange?”
Richard raised a delicate eyebrow in mild surprise “You think I came here with no bargaining counters at all? Cap in hand, ready to capitulate? What guarantees will you give me that you will fulfil your side of the bargain?” He paused. “None at all. Why should I believe you?”
“You have no choice.” Terry looked uncertain now.
“We have two counters you might find useful,” Richard continued. “They’re both called Cawnton. They have information you
don’t possess. We know you need them, so don’t pretend not to care. How do my terms sound now?”
I wanted to clap my hands and shout “bravo!”
Terry finished his drink, frowning. “I misjudged you, my lord.”
“But I didn’t misjudge you, did I?” Richard said grimly. “The Cawntons brought me the tokens of proof, so I took them as well as their tokens. I can’t think what possessed them to come in person, but it was a gift I took gladly.” He had turned the exchange. Without a bargaining position, Terry could have killed us, and if Terry thought his secret safe, he would have done so, to keep us from talking.
“Where are they?”
“Where are your hostages?” Richard countered. Gervase still looked about, but I dared not move, dared not let out a sound. Our peephole must be cleverly concealed. His searching gaze had passed over it more than once.
Terry snorted. “The elder Cawnton wanted that ruby.”
“He has a good eye.” Richard flattened his palm with the ring on it, the ring that had been winking on my finger so recently. “But a little greedy, I think. We’ll restore them to you, if you bring my property. We can make this exchange and then we’ll go, and you’ll have what you want.”
“What proof will I have you won’t welsh on the bargain?”
Richard shrugged. “None at all, except my word. And the word of the men you’ve known for many years, Sir George here and Lord Hareton. Our bargain applies to this run only, you understand.”
“Of course,” Sir George agreed. I thought he could have used a glass of the wine, he looked so worried and upset. My heart went out to him in his distress, forgetting my own concerns in compassion.
“One more thing.” Richard looked Terry directly in the eye. “Understand, this is between you and me, Terry, and no one else. If my property is damaged in any way, I shall take advantage of the kind offer your daughter is proposing to me. Lady Hareton has been hard put to it to keep her out of the house this last two days, but apart from one interesting exchange, she has prevailed.” I heard Gervase’s sharp intake of breath. “Pale, stupid maidens never appealed to me. I prefer the dazzlers. So your daughter will not even have the bliss she tells me she’ll achieve in my arms. However, everyone will think I have obliged her. After the stories begin to circulate, no one will touch her again, I promise you, and any social pretensions she might have will be ruined forever.” The fashionable exquisite had gone, to be replaced by a man only two people in that room had seen before. And one hidden spectator. “I know she’s panting to get me into her bed. I can’t turn around without the damned chit drooling over me. When I spread the stories about her lascivious behaviour with me—entirely fabricated, of course—then no one will receive her again.”
Devonshire: Richard and Rose, Book 2 Page 21
