“You have been so kind and so understanding that I am not as frightened as I was when I first arrived,” she said fervently.
John smiled at her.
“I want you to go on feeling like that,” he asserted. “But you are not to leave this room until I tell you it is safe for you to do so.”
He spoke decisively. She nodded.
John gathered up the tray and departed quickly, hurrying down the stairs.
Several of the hotel guests were emerging from the dining room and heading for their rooms. He bid them a courteous goodnight and received compliments for the excellent meal and accommodation.
More guests were coming into the hallway, putting on their cloaks, ready to leave the hotel.
John looked into the dining room where Cherry was clearing away.
“You have been splendid,” he told her, “and I am very grateful to you for all your hard work.”
She gave him a charming smile and he knew that his praise had pleased her. Then, because he wanted to do everything properly, he proceeded into the kitchen to say goodnight to Mrs. Jones who was just shutting up for the night. She told him she was tired out and if anyone was still hungry they would have to wait until breakfast.
John laughed.
“It would be wise to leave a little of the excellent cake we enjoyed at teatime and perhaps some of your petit-fours on the side table,” he said. “Then if anyone arrives late they can help themselves.”
“I expect you want to go to bed too,” Mrs. Jones said. “It will soon be twelve o’clock.”
“But you have been doing the real work,” he pointed out with his pleasant smile. “You really are a marvel!”
After saying goodnight to Mrs. Jones, he turned out the lights in the dining room. Then he returned to his office.
Having closed the window he was just making sure he had put all his books away, when he heard someone coming along the passage.
He groaned, afraid that he knew who it was, and sure enough, the next moment Sir Stewart entered his office.
Before he could speak, John said,
“Oh, you are back. I was just shutting up and going to bed.”
“I have not yet found the young lady I am looking for,” Sir Stewart said. “Are you sure she is not here?”
“I gave you the answer to that question two or three hours ago,” John replied firmly, “and it has not altered.”
There was silence for a moment before Sir Stewart asked,
“Are you quite certain you are not hiding this young lady from me? Perhaps she stepped into the hotel while you were busy or maybe having your meal and has disappeared upstairs to find an empty room.”
The way he spoke made John afraid he might demanded to examine the hotel for himself.
“I assure you,” he replied, “no one has booked a room since you last came here. There have been extra people to dinner, but as you can see the dining room is now closed and they have all left. In fact I am closing the hotel at this very moment.”
“Very well, I will take a room for the night,” Sir Stewart demanded.
John froze. This was a disaster.
“I am afraid that we are fully booked,” he responded stoutly.
“I’m sure you can find something for me.”
“And I am sure that we cannot. The hotel is full.”
Sir Stewart thrust his hand into pocket and pulled out a handful of gold coins.
“Why don’t we get down to business?” he said in an unpleasant, oily voice. “I am sure there’s someone you can turn out.”
“And I am sure that I have no intention of doing so,” John said furiously. “Kindly leave or I shall be forced to send for a policeman.”
Sir Stewart drew in his breath sharply.
“Are you drunk to speak to me like that?”
“I can send for a policeman drunk or sober,” John pointed out.
Sir Stewart pursed his lips together as if somehow preventing himself from swearing aloud at being thwarted.
After a moment, John said,
“I suggest you give up the chase until tomorrow. I have always found it is impossible to pursue people in the dark. Tomorrow when the sun is shining, it will give you a chance of finding her.”
For a moment there was silence. Then Sir Stewart growled.
“Very well, but you haven’t heard the last of this.”
“There is always another day,” John answered, ignoring the threat. “If you take my advice you will look elsewhere. If she is running away from you, I doubt if she will linger where you are likely to be looking for her.”
Again there was silence before Sir Stewart replied,
“But if she does turn up, for goodness sake find out where she’s going or better still, make her stay here until you can contact me. I am at the Grand Hotel.”
He saw John looking at him in surprise, and snapped,
“Of course I already have a hotel room. You do not think I would choose to stay in this little place unless I needed to, do you?”
“No, sir,” John replied woodenly.
Sir Stewart scribbled his name and the address of the Grand on a piece of paper.
“Here,” he said, thrusting the paper towards John. “Don’t lose it. And make sure all your staff know who they are looking out for.”
“Who are we looking out for?” came a voice from behind him.
With shock, John realised that it was Miss Campbell at her most belligerent.
“A young woman,” Sir Stewart bawled. “Fair hair, pretty, well-dressed, probably wearing a pink bonnet –”
“Oh, her,” said Miss Campbell dismissively.
John could hardly believe his ears. Was this terrifying young woman going to give the game away, after everything she had said?
“You have seen her?” Sir Stewart whirled on John. “You said she wasn’t here.”
“He never saw her,” Miss Campbell replied. “I made sure of that. I have seen her sort before. I get them off the premises before any of the men see them. This is a respectable hotel.”
“What do you mean, off the premises?” Sir Stewart demanded.
“I mean out, right out. You cannot take chances with that sort of woman.”
“May I ask what you mean by that?” Sir Stewart yelped, briefly diverted by this slur on his intended bride. “Are you implying that she was a woman of bad character?”
“Of course she was. She did not bring a maid. I know what that means. Oh, yes. I told her exactly what she could do and she took herself off.”
“When was this?” John asked in a carefully neutral voice.
“About two hours ago, sir. I was going through the books when she came sauntering in, bold as brass, demanding a room. I asked where was her maid and she spun me some daft story about having to leave her behind. No decent woman behaves like that, so I pushed her out of the side door before anyone else could see her.”
“Did she say where she was going?” Sir Stewart raged.
“She said something about having to go back to London and give in.”
“Give in?” Sir Stewart yelped. “She actually said that?”
“She actually said that. I didn’t ask what it meant. I didn’t need to. ‘Giving in’ means just one thing to that sort of woman. I told her London was the best place for her sort.”
“London,” Sir Stewart breathed.
There was a gleam in his eyes at this hint that he might have won.
John watched him with contempt. Was there no end to this man’s stupidity?
“London,” Sir Stewart repeated. “And she’s given up.”
“In,” said Miss Campbell firmly.
“What?”
“Not up. In. She’s given in. She said so.”
“Up or in, it is the same thing.”
“Not at all,” Miss Campbell said, evidently settling in for an argument. “She definitely said ‘give in’, and we all know what that means, of course –”
“Don’t lecture me, youn
g woman,” Sir Stewart howled. “I don’t care what it was. I have got her where I want her. Excellent.”
Without saying any more, he walked out of the office slamming the door behind him.
John followed him outside and stood watching him climb into his carriage and depart.
He gave a deep sigh of relief.
Sir Stewart Paxton struck him as violent and dangerous and he could understand why Miss Smith would want to flee from him. How could any girl fight such a man?
But she was no longer alone. Now she had a soldier to fight for her and the cunning Miss Campbell. Sir Stewart faced stronger opponents than he realised.
Striding back into the hotel he sought out Miss Campbell.
“Well done!” John congratulated her gleefully. “You were superb!”
“Do you think it worked, sir?”
“Worked? Of course it worked. You did a marvellous job. Frank, did you see her?”
Frank had been hovering. Now he emerged with a grin on his face.
“Yes sir. I felt very sorry for him. He didn’t understand the forces he was taking on. Of course,” he added thoughtfully, “he was lucky he didn’t get his face slapped.”
“No, I keep that for men who particularly annoy me,” Miss Campbell said significantly.
“Ah – yes. I have things to do.”
Frank vanished quickly.
Gradually the hotel became dark and silent. The remaining guests had repaired to bed. John noticed Cherry slipping out of a side door with a shadow in determined pursuit.
He heard Frank’s voice in gentle persuasion, then the sound of a sharp crack.
“Ow!” sounded his valet’s unmistakeable voice.
“You just keep your hands to yourself,” came Cherry’s voice. “I have told you before.”
The side door closed and after a moment Frank emerged through the gloom, rubbing his face. He stopped when he saw his employer and grinned sheepishly.
From the window beside them they could see Cherry walking through the moonlight until she reached the steps down to the beach. Then a man’s figure detached itself from the shadows. She gave a cry of delight and ran into his arms.
“Ah, well,” Frank sighed philosophically. “I suppose you cannot win every time.”
“You don’t seem to be winning any of the time,” John observed. “Did she hit the same cheek as Miss Campbell?”
“No, sir,” Frank said gloomily. “The other one. So now I have a matching pair!”
“You will be safer if you stay away from her, young man,” said a voice behind them.
They both turned and saw Miss Campbell.
“I am not afraid of him,” Frank asserted, with a touch of defiance.
His tormentor looked him up and down in the gloom, with an expression that showed she was not impressed.
“Well you would be if you had any sense,” she pointed out tartly. “The last man who tried to paw Cherry about is still on crutches. Goodnight gentlemen.”
She departed without another word.
Frank cleared his throat.
“Well,” he said defensively, “I didn’t like Cherry that much.”
“Which is just as well,” John noted wryly, “since she doesn’t seem to like you at all.”
Frank gave him a black look.
John decided to pay a final call on Cecilia, who would sleep better if she knew that Sir Stewart had been fooled into leaving. He locked up his office and made sure that the doors on the ground floor were shut and bolted.
Then he walked up the stairs, knocked on the door of Miss Smith’s room and waited for her somewhat frightened voice to ask, “Who is there?”
“It is me, with good news,” he replied.
He heard her jump out of bed and run across the floor. She opened the door and stood peeping at him as if to make quite certain it was him and no one else.
“What has happened?” she whispered. “I have been lying here so frightened that he might have forced his way in and was exploring every room in the hotel.”
“No, he has gone away. Miss Campbell – Roseanne – invented a clever story about having seen you and driven you off the premises.”
“But why would she do that?”
John suddenly became horribly embarrassed and wished he had never started to tell her the story. How could he possibly explain to this delicately reared young lady that she had been called a woman of ill-repute?
“Well – er – it does not matter,” he said hastily. “The point is that he now thinks you have gone back to London.”
As he was speaking he became aware that she was standing in front of him in her elegant night gown, her long fair hair falling over her shoulders. She looked so enchanting that he was not surprised that she was being chased by a man.
“I am so grateful,” she said in a soft voice. “There is no reason for you to be kind to a perfect stranger, but you have been like an angel from Heaven and now I can go to sleep without being frightened.”
She gave a deep sigh that touched John’s heart.
Then a cough came from the hallway behind him. His blood froze, but when he turned, it was only Miss Campbell, standing there with a thunderous face. Behind her stood Frank, meekly carrying a load of bedding.
“I have decided to sleep here too,” she said imperiously. “Miss Smith will be safer.”
“But, thanks to you, Sir Stewart has departed,” John pointed out.
“Nevertheless, she will be safer,” replied Miss Campbell, giving him a gimlet-eyed stare that left no doubt as to which danger she meant.
Then she saw the tray in John’s hands, bearing two wine glasses, plus a bottle of the hotel’s finest wine and she raised outraged eyes to his face.
“An excellent vintage,” she declared frostily.
“Yes, and so thoughtful of him to bring me wine when I hadn’t ordered any,” Cecilia announced innocently.
“Indeed!” Miss Campbell’s face spoke volumes about men who brought wine to a woman’s bedroom, unasked.
She moved towards the door, managing to make a stately procession with Frank bringing up the rear.
“All right, my lad,” she said. “This is far as you come. Give that to me.”
She took the bedding from him, and headed into the room.
“Oh, Roseanne, how kind of you,” Cecilia said. She flashed John a smile. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Miss Smith.”
He barely had time to get the words out before Miss Campbell closed the door firmly in his face.
“She doesn’t approve of either of us,” Frank observed.
“No, but I am easier in my mind knowing that Miss Smith has such an excellent guardian angel. I am sure Miss Campbell is capable of scaring off all comers.”
“Not a doubt of it,” Frank observed with feeling. “I have seen bulldogs that scared me less!”
“So have I.”
From behind the door they heard Cecilia say,
“Roseanne, do tell me what you said to that horrible man. Why did you ‘order me out’?”
John and Frank froze to the spot as a low murmur from Roseanne told them that she was explaining. This was followed by total silence, and then, the very last sound they had expected to hear.
Peal after peal of ringing laughter. Cecilia sounded as though she was almost choking with mirth.
Aghast, the two men stared at each other.
“It just shows you, sir,” Frank said. “You cannot tell with females.”
“No, you can’t,” John answered with feeling. “Let’s go and have a drink.”
*
John rose at six-thirty next morning. Putting on his bathing suit and his coat, he ran down the stairs, out of the door and on to the cliff.
Descending to the beach he was relieved to see that, at this hour, there was no one else around. He raced down to the beach and plunged into the sea, relishing the feeling of cold water on his skin. He struck out vigorously and swam some distance, taking deep breaths and
feeling better than at any time since his return from the Crimea.
As he returned he became aware of Frank, standing on the beach waving to him.
“I just wanted to let you know that the old feller has really gone back to London,” he said. “I saw him in a carriage, going by at seven o’clock. Mrs. Jones says there is a train to London at half past seven, so he must have been catching that one.”
“Then we have got rid of him!” John exclaimed. “That poor girl can stop being a prisoner in her room.”
“Are we going to find somewhere else for her, sir?”
“I suppose that would be an idea – if I could think of anywhere.”
In fact he was planning to spend the day with Cecilia.
When they reached the hotel, he ran straight up to her room, hoping to find her alone. She answered the door wearing her dressing gown and again he noticed her lovely hair streaming over her shoulders.
“I have come to tell you that you can relax,” he said. “Sir Stewart has taken the train to London.”
She clasped her hands.
“Oh, how wonderful! If only he stays there!”
“I am sure he will. When he doesn’t find you at his house, he will think of other London houses you might have gone to. Can you think of where he might search?”
“Papa had several friends in London. He might try them first.”
“Then we are safe, at least for a while. I wondered if you would care to go swimming with me.”
“Oh, I would love to.”
“Do you have a costume?”
“No, I ran away in such a hurry, I couldn’t even think of swimming.”
“I know a shop where you can buy one. I will come back for you in an hour.”
John descended for his breakfast and give instructions to the staff. Mrs. Jones told him kindly not to worry about anything, which he interpreted, correctly, as meaning that they could all cope very well without his ignorant interference.
He was whistling happily to himself as he went to call for Cecilia an hour later. But it was Miss Campbell who opened the door.
“I won’t need to buy a costume,” Cecilia said, “because dear Roseanne is lending me one of hers. And she is coming to the beach with us. Isn’t that nice?”
John agreed that it was. He would gladly have dispensed with Miss Campbell’s company, but he had spoken sincerely when he had said he was glad that this young lady had a female protector.
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