The Lady And The Military Man_Conquer My Heart

by Penelope Redmont

  She would have felt a great deal more confident if she’d been wearing more clothes. Where was her banyan?

  "I've taken money to bring you to London — stop this foolishness, woman. I've no designs on your virtue. Get dressed, right now.”

  "Who paid you?"

  "Tommy Keaton — who else? He wants you to London so it's to London that you'll go."

  "I won't go to London. My sister is ill — she needs me."

  He rolled his eyes and adjusted his pistol so that it was pointing right at her chest. "You believed that did you? Yes, the doctor wrote the letter, but under considerable duress. Your sister is perfectly well. Now get dressed, I'm losing my patience."

  “Dorinda is well?"

  "As far as I'm aware, she's perfectly well." He motioned with the pistol. “Dress yourself.”

  She realized that she had to do what he said. She had no doubt that he would shoot her, and be quite prepared to bundle her into the coach while she was bleeding.

  Lizzie had brushed her carriage dress, and hung it on the screen. Jane chose stockings and a fresh chemise from a drawer, then sat down on the stool behind the screen pull on her stockings. She wouldn’t be able to wear her stays, because she needed Lizzie to lace them.

  What had he meant about the doctor? Had he harmed the man?

  While she dressed, she thought about how she might escape him, but discarded each option. She wanted to scream, and had to compress her lips sharply.

  He would shoot her… She'd always believed that Killock was capable of anything.

  Her earlier shock had faded, to be replaced by anger. She would escape the man somehow, either on the way to London or when they reached the city.

  "Pack." He said the single word, when she emerged from behind the screen. He backed to the door, and waved his pistol at her again.

  She had no choice, so she did as he asked.

  Although her hands were shaking, she placed several gowns into the bag. Then she picked up a bundle of underthings, and put them into the bag too. She’d secreted her pistol among those underthings, and now she was very glad of that.

  Once the pistol was in her bag, she felt more confident.

  Five minutes later, with her hair tucked under a cap and wearing a bonnet and her cloak, she was ready to leave.

  Killock picked up her bag. She’d packed as much as she was able.

  "We’re going down the back staircase. A man will bring the carriage around. You’ll behave yourself Lady Jane. Remember what I said. It won't concern me at all if I have to shoot you. I'll get my money as long as I bring you to London… Tommy might prefer that you live, but I have no particular preference one way or another."

  Chapter 14

  Jane realized that Horace Killock had ruined her.

  Two days on the road, alone with a man, equalled ruination. The thought didn’t frighten her. She realized that no matter what happened, she would be the center of a scandal. And no matter what happened, she would make Horace Killock pay.

  She had never been angrier in her life.

  No one could save her. She had to save herself, and luckily she had the means to do it. Kelly was on his way to London — or perhaps he was already there. Catherine and the Ferrymores thought that she was on her way to York. Her brother and sisters were unaware of what had happened.

  The only person she could rely on was herself. So her sole concern was to get her pistol from her bag. However, Killock gave her no opportunity to recover it. They didn't spend the night at an inn, and he told her to stay in the carriage when the horses were changed.

  Killock had planned carefully. He’d brought two men to guard her, as well as the coachman. They were rough-looking men, hard-faced. One had a tattoo, on his right cheek. From the glimpses she had of their weathered faces, she judged them to be mariners.

  Killock brought her food, and escorted her inside the posting inns only so that she could ease her discomfort — he arranged a room for her for half an hour. On those occasions, she couldn’t escape. She was cloaked, and his pistol pressed tightly into her side when he shoved her into the room — a room he inspected first, to ensure that she couldn’t climb out of a window. She never had an opportunity to speak to anyone.

  “Make a fuss, and I’ll shoot you,” he said to her coldly each time she left the coach.

  When she found herself unaccountably sleepy for several hours after sipping from a tankard of ale, Jane realized that Killock had put something in the drink. She was outraged, what could she do? She decided that it would be best to let him believe that she hadn't noticed. All she wanted was her bag, and she had to be patient.

  Kelly’s image drifted in and out of her mind, as if he were a touchstone. His image — tall, strong, and sure of himself — helped her to keep her self-assurance. He smiled at her, and winked, and she found herself smiling back.

  Killock didn't speak to her unless she asked him a direct question, and he avoided riding in the carriage with her. He rode with the coachman on the box. His two henchmen were on horseback, one riding in front of the carriage, and the other behind.

  Once, when he escorted her from an inn back to the carriage, she remembered the grouse moor. She had to ask. “Did you shoot at Kelly when we left the grouse moor? You were seen.”

  He shrugged. “Yes, I did."

  “But why?”

  He shook his head. "Money — of course."

  “Lord Keaton Beaumont hired you?”

  “Never you mind all the conversation, get in the coach and be quiet.” He opened the carriage door and then slammed it on her.

  Finally they arrived in London.

  “Out you get," Killock said, appearing at the carriage door, and peering in at her.

  It was just after dawn, and the city was beginning to wake up. She didn't know this part of the city, which seemed to be an area of mean houses and narrow streets.

  Killock took her arm, and told the coachmen to get her bag. His henchmen opened the door, and Killock shoved her inside. "Up the stairs."

  The house was cold, dark, and smelled of mildew. The stairs weren’t sound. One of his men went up the stairs first carrying a lamp. “Watch yourself,” he growled in time for her to avoid a missing tread.

  She asked Killock what his intentions were. He simply said that Tommy Keaton wanted her in London so to London she would go. He was being paid, he didn't want or need to know anything more than that.

  Killock shoved open a door, then went inside the small room. He struck his tinderbox, and lighted two candles. “Come in — don’t just hover in the doorway.”

  Reluctantly she stepped inside the room. It contained a bed, and a stand with a basin and water jug. The sole window was shuttered.

  “You will wait here for Tommy Keaton, my lady. We made good time, and he won't expect us this early. I'll have some food sent up to you later.” He indicated her bag, which was carried by one of his hard-eyed henchmen. “You’ve got everything you need.”

  His servant dropped her bag inside the door, then both men stepped outside. The door closed, and she heard the key turn in the lock.

  The stairs creaked as the men went downstairs. She hurried to the door to try the door knob. Locked, of course. She went to the window next, but the shutters wouldn’t budge. She shivered. Once the candles had burned down, she would be in darkness.

  There was cold water in a bucket, as well as soap and a towel.

  Jane tried not to think about the pistol in her bag. She would take everything step-by-step. Her first step was to wash away the grime of the road, and change her clothes. Then she’d secrete the pistol in her pocket.

  She was reluctant to undress in case Killock returned, but told herself not to be foolish. She had to wash.

  Half an hour later, she felt more like herself. And the pistol was in her pocket.

  Any hope she had that she could escape the room faded as the hours passed.

  Jane had forgotten how handsome Lord Keaton Beaumont was. Dressed as exqu
isitely as ever, he smiled at her when he entered the small room carrying a lamp.

  His blue eyes challenged her. “So, my dear… You’re in London. How wonderful.”

  She backed away to stand against the wall.

  Killock had brought her more food, and several candles, so she knew that it was almost 10 o'clock at night. She been in the room for more than 14 hours.

  "You arrived in London early," he said to her, his tone pleasant. "I didn't expect you until tomorrow. My apologies for leaving you in this mean situation for all these hours. Come now, I'm taking you to a house where you will be a deal more comfortable.”

  He nodded to a tall man who'd followed him inside the room. She didn’t recognize him. He wasn’t dressed as roughly as Killock’s henchmen. “Take Lady Jane's bag." He offered her his arm. "Come, my dear."

  What could she do? There was nothing to say, and nothing to do other than to follow his instructions. Her hand was in her pocket, cradling her pistol, so she could have shot him, but what then?

  No doubt his man would kill her instantly, then dump her body in the Thames. She had no illusions about Tommy Keaton and his associates now.

  He was a spy. He’d been a spy for years. He wanted Napoleon’s money, and would use her to get it. She was in a fight for her life.

  "What do you want?" She asked, when he’d escorted her downstairs, and handed her into a carriage. Once out of the house, she’d looked around her. She glimpsed three men, standing in a doorway, watching the carriage.

  He leaned back against the squabs. The carriage began to move. "I want you to send a message to Ninon.”

  "What?" She stared at him.

  "You won't credit it, but the woman is impossible to find. She is very cunning. But if I put out the word that you're in London, and that you will help her, she will contact you. Once she does, I will have her."

  "You intend to kill her."

  He shrugged at that.

  And then, she thought, you intend to kill me.

  “Behave yourself, and you won't be harmed. I need your help."

  She stared at Lord Keaton Beaumont. He was sitting opposite her in the carriage, and in the darkness she couldn't see him clearly. However she would knew that he was watching her as an eagle watches a rabbit. "Very well then… what do you want me to do?"

  He tilted his head on one side. “Excellent, my dear. You're being sensible. I need Madame Parisi to visit you. For some reason, she trusts you."

  Jane sighed, and lifted her hands. “And then you’ll release me? When you catch Madame." She laughed. “You must think me an arrant fool.”

  He chuckled. “You're no fool. You know that I'm a spy. You know that I'll be treated as a traitor if Kelly manages to capture me. Then a swift death would be a welcome release. So listen to me very carefully. I'm sure that Killock told you that he would kill you if he needed to — and so will I. I'm very fond of you, Jane, but not fond enough to give up my life for you."

  “I'm not interested in you or your concerns. Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll do it — then you’ll release me? "

  “Of course,” he said smoothly. “I’ve no wish to harm you. What I want is very simple… I don’t wish you to do anything other than stay in a house in St. James’s Square. I rented the house in your name. Madame Parisi will contact you — she is waiting for you and Catherine to return to London.”

  “Where is she?”

  “If I knew that, I wouldn’t need you. As you can imagine, I have men everywhere, so Madame is severely restricted in her movements. However, she has money and she has friends… So she will become aware of the house. She will contact you there."

  "Madame Parisi is not my friend — why would she trust me?"

  "Just do as you're asked. No questions, Jane. Madame will appeal to you to contact Kelly because she wishes to trade information for her life. She trusts Kelly, and she trusts Wellington."

  The carriage stopped. Lord Keaton Beaumont leaned towards her. "I must leave you. I can’t be seen anywhere around St. James’s. You will be taken to the house — your house. Remember that all of the house’s servants are in my employ. Don't try to escape. If you do, you will be shot. You will live in the house, as though the house were your own. You will shop in Bond Street — with a footman and coachman in my employ, of course… So don’t think that you can escape them. You will attend Madame Lola's and the other shops as always.”

  “How do I contact Madame?”

  “You don’t. She will contact you. I expect that it will take just a day or two for her to do so."

  He opened the carriage door. "Don't try to send any messages to anyone.”

  Lord Keaton Beaumont stepped out of the carriage with a nod to her. Then a woman slipped past him and took his seat.

  The carriage moved off again.

  "Lady Jane," the woman said.

  Jane stared. In the occasional glow from gas lights on the streets, she saw that the woman was young, and dressed in a black cloak, and bonnet.

  "My lord has given you all the information you need, my lady. Remember that you’ve rented this house. You may call me Mrs. Smith. Or Smith — as you wish. I am your housekeeper. You will have a maid, and everything that you’re used to. As soon as Madame Parisi contacts you, you may return to Eardley House.”

  The carriage stopped and Smith opened the door and stepped outside. Jane saw they they had reached St. James’s Square.

  A moment later, a footman bowed to her. Behind him, Jane saw the steps of an elegant house.

  "My lady," the footman held out his hand, expectantly.

  Jane shivered, but she took his hand.

  "Mind the step, my lady," he said solicitously.

  Smith was waiting at the top of the steps. A butler had opened the door. He was a tall man, and hard featured. However, he smiled at her. "Welcome home, my lady."

  She stepped past him into the foyer, with Smith directly behind her. "I'll show you to your rooms my lady. No doubt you will be wanting to change your clothes before dinner. I will come and fetch you when dinner is ready…"

  Mrs. Smith led the way up the long staircase, then down a hallway. She opened a door, and waited for Jane to step inside. “Your maid will attend on you shortly.”

  Jane closed her eyes and sat on the bed. The footman had brought in her bag, bowed, and closed the door when he left. Jane knew that she had just a moment or two to hide her pistol before the maid came into the room.

  Although she hated to be without it, the maid would be sure to find it when she undressed. So she flipped up the mattress, and tucked the pistol between the mattress and the boards.

  "I'm Patsy, my lady.”

  Jane glanced at the fresh-faced girl who’d slipped into the room, and nodded. “Could you arrange a bath for me?”

  “Of course, my lady — I’ll see to it while you have your meal.”

  Mrs. Smith sent up a footman to tell Jane that dinner was served.

  In the dining room, Jane dined from Wedgwood plates and drank wine from crystal glasses. Her head was spinning. She needed to think, and she tried to calm herself.

  She knew that she was in immense danger. She still didn't want to believe that Lord Keaton Beaumont was a spy. However, he was. And she was helping him.

  A couple of hours later, after her bath, Jane was finally alone.

  She had been surprised to find that that her rooms had been completely stocked with the dresses and the other clothes which made up a ladies’ wardrobe. Everything was in her size, but nothing was new. She was relieved that the clothes were at least clean, even though she wondered to whom they’d belonged.

  Considerable money had gone into this venture. Renting the house, and supplying it, would have been expensive, even without the servants’ salary.

  The butler's name was McDonald. He was a redheaded Scot, while Mrs. Smith was dark-haired and dark-eyed. She had the look of the gypsy about her. Although she dressed as a housekeeper would, Jane knew that the woman was a spy too.


  Patsy however, could not be more than 14. While Jane doubted that she was a spy at such a young age, neither would the girl be any help to her. She couldn't ask her to take a letter to Mr. Kettering or to anyone else she knew in town.

  She lay back and closed her eyes. She was alone. If indeed Madame did contact her, what could she do? She had no doubt that Lord Keaton Beaumont meant to murder Madame, and would murder Jane shortly afterward.

  To Jane’s surprise, when she awoke, daylight shone through the gaps in the curtains.

  Madame

  Days passed, and Madame Parisi made no attempt to contact Jane.

  Jane wondered what she would do if she did. She didn’t want to be responsible for the woman's death. She knew that when Madame Parisi arrived at the house, and was captured, she wouldn’t be able to save her. Nor would she be able to save herself, because she would no longer be useful to Tommy.

  Jane considered and discarded a hundred ways she might escape. However each avenue she explored resulted in injury. Either injury to herself, or injury to someone else if she were forced to shoot them.

  She couldn't climb out of her bedroom window. Not only was it on the third floor and the cobbles of the back area were a considerable distance below, the rear of the house and the garden were watched. One of Lord Keaton Beaumont’s men patrolled the grounds at all times, even at night.

  Neither could she threaten any of the servants with her pistol. She wouldn't use the pistol other than to protect her life. Nor could she go downstairs without either the butler or the footmen being aware of it.

  However, she did find something that might help her in the bottom of the bag which Killock had forced her to pack — her travel drawing kit. The small flat leather case contained a sketchbook, charcoals, and two pencils.

  Now she had paper and the means to write, but she didn't immediately see how she could send a message, and to whom she could send it. Lady Ferrymore had said that Catherine was returning to town, but she might not yet have arrived. Moreover, she couldn't bribe any of the servants to send a note to Eardley House. They’d inform Lord Keaton Beaumont at once.