‘Yes.’ Angelica laughed a little self-consciously. ‘He said he was going to visit Sir William but I didn’t believe him,’ she explained. ‘I’d wondered earlier how he disguised his white cravat when he went out smuggling—seeing as how all his other clothes were black—so when I saw him on the stairs and he was wearing a black cravat…I acted without thinking.’
‘But it was a very acute deduction,’ Adam observed, watching her shrewdly. ‘My lady, I salute you. Ben’s finally met his match! The future will certainly hold some interesting developments, I think.’
He grinned at Angelica’s discomfiture, then tensed and turned his head as the door opened, but it was only Thomas.
‘It’s not what you’re used to,’ he said, putting a tray down on Angelica’s lap, ‘but it’s the best Joe could produce—and I had to dodge my way up here, so no one saw me. I hope I haven’t spilt any.’
‘It looks delicious,’ said Angelica warmly. ‘Besides, I’m so hungry I could eat a hor…goat.’ She changed her mind at the last minute as she remembered the groom’s occupation. ‘Thank you, Thomas.’
She ate the simple meal with relish. She would have been happy to stay and chat to Adam when she’d finished it, but she could see that talking to her was a considerable effort for him so she left him with Thomas and went back to her own room.
In her absence someone, possibly Thomas, had made up the fire and lit some candles. She opened the bag Martha had sent and found her maid had packed a warm, practical walking dress and shoes. She put them on and immediately felt much more comfortable. There was something very disconcerting about walking around in bare feet.
She spread out the riding habit before the hearth, hoping it might dry by the following morning. She hated the thought of wearing it again, yet she also felt strangely sentimental about it. She would have to replace it for Mrs Faulkener.
As she smoothed out the creases she heard the crackle of paper and frowned in brief confusion. Then she remembered snatching up James Corbett’s letter the previous morning. She took it out of the pocket and flattened it out. The letter was even more battered and stained now than it had been before. The ink had smudged and run in the damp, but it was still readable.
She put it on the mantelpiece then sat down on the bed, wondering what to do next. She could hardly go back to bed so soon, and there was nothing else in the bare room to occupy her attention. She frowned irritably. After all the excitement of the past few days this enforced inactivity was almost unbearable.
There was a gentle tap on the door and she recognised Thomas’s voice. She went over and opened it immediately.
‘Excuse me, your ladyship,’ he said sheepishly, offering her a crumpled newspaper. ‘I thought you might like something to read. An inn’s a tedious place if you’re on your own and you’ve got no taste for drinking.’
Angelica’s smile lit up her face.
‘Thank you!’ she exclaimed gratefully. ‘Is Mr Kennett asleep?’
‘Yes, my lady.’
‘Would you like to come in?’ she offered impulsively. ‘I’m sure you must be just as bored with this waiting as I am.’
‘Well…’ He hesitated, then glanced quickly up and down the landing. ‘Very well, my lady.’
He came into the room and stood uncomfortably just inside the door.
‘How long do you think it will take Mr Faulkener to get to London?’ Angelica asked.
‘He’ll be there by now,’ Thomas replied. ‘Depends how long his business takes him when he’ll be back. He’s planning on being here tomorrow.’
‘Yes, he said,’ said Angelica. She thought of Benoît’s business with the Admiralty, and with her father, and wondered which would take longer.
How would the Earl react to Benoît’s news? She didn’t want to think about that now. She was still basking in the glow of happiness left over from the previous night.
‘You must have been with Mr Faulkener a long time,’ she said brightly.
‘I worked for his father,’ Thomas replied, ‘but I’ve known Master Benoît since we were both boys. I would have gone to sea with him, but my mother was a widow, and there were my sisters to think of…’
‘Yes,’ said Angelica abruptly, reminded once more of the Earl. ‘There is always someone to think of. I’m sure you took good care of your family.’
‘My sisters are married now,’ said Thomas cheerfully. ‘Ma lives with one of them. I could go with Master Benoît now. But I get seasick—and someone has to take care of Mrs Faulkener’s horses.’
‘I’m sure no one could do it better,’ Angelica said warmly. ‘I still haven’t seen the tricks you’ve taught them. Mr Faulkener says you’ve taught Billy to count!’
Thomas smiled slowly, clearly gratified by her words.
‘Ah, well,’ he said. ‘I do the counting, Billy just does what I tell him. Pity I can’t say the same for some I could mention!’ he added, glowering. Martha’s deception clearly still rankled. ‘Well, I’d best be getting back to Master Adam,’ he continued, before Angelica could think of a suitable reply. ‘I’ll be there if you need me, my lady, but I don’t imagine there’ll be any trouble.’
‘Thank you, Thomas,’ said Angelica.
When she was alone again the room seemed even smaller and more cell-like than it had done before. She had sat reading to her father for endless hours, suppressing her thoughts of the world outside their walls. Now, in an unfortunate parody of those hours, she had to sit in a tiny, empty room with the sound of voices and laughter echoing up from the taproom below—with nothing to do but a paper to read.
She threw the newspaper on the floor. She’d done enough reading to last her a lifetime. And Thomas’s comment about his mother had excited her own insidious anxieties about the Earl. She had done everything she could to help him since his accident—but had she done enough? Was there any way she could have found that would have averted his terrible bitterness?
She had loved, admired and obeyed her father all her life; but Lord Ellewood had always been a proud and very private man, not given to sharing his emotions with his daughter. He had never been able to come to terms with his sudden dependence on others, and that made him so hard to deal with.
Her earlier mood of optimism faded, and it was a long time before she fell asleep that night. When she did, her dreams were troubled. Harry, her father, Benoît and even her mother advanced and retreated in a never-ending series of fragmented images. She woke up rigid with anxiety and almost too afraid to move—though she didn’t know what had scared her. Surely she wasn’t frightened of the people she loved most in the world?
It was a relief to get up the following morning. It was the first time she’d seen daylight for two days and the sight of the sunshine immediately restored her optimism. She couldn’t imagine why she’d given way to such foolish worrying the previous night. She ate a hearty breakfast and even deigned to read the despised newspaper. It was nearly a month out of date, but since the news it reported was almost entirely local that hardly mattered to her.
She was engrossed in a story about the peccadilloes of some soldiers garrisoned at Horsham when Thomas knocked on her door.
‘My lady!’ he whispered urgently, alarm in his voice. ‘My lady!’
‘What is it?’ She snatched open the door.
‘Sir William! He’s downstairs, he’s going to search the inn!’
‘What?’ Angelica exclaimed, her heart thumping in sudden alarm. She was remembering Benoît’s command that they do nothing to draw attention to themselves.
‘They wounded some men on the beach two nights ago,’ Thomas said breathlessly. ‘And one of his men was killed. Now he’s heard there’s an injured man here—God knows who informed him—though I can make a guess.’ His expression darkened briefly. ‘There’s no time for that now. Sir William knows Master Adam’s in with us. He’s been trying to catch him and Master Benoît for years, I’ve got to hide you both.’
‘“In with us”?’ Angelica querie
d quickly.
‘The Gentlemen!’ Thomas said impatiently.
Angelica suddenly realised that, although Benoît might no longer be actively involved in smuggling, his groom, landlord and a lot of his old friends still were. Even more importantly, Adam had been the one who’d led Sir William on a wild-goose chase all those years ago while Benoît had been confronting her father among the dunes of West Beach. And Adam had come ashore secretly from a smuggling vessel. If the magistrate discovered him wounded at the inn, he might finally have the evidence he needed to apprehend him for smuggling.
‘God, what am I going to do?’ Thomas groaned distractedly. ‘You and Master Adam to hide and—’
‘Me!’ Angelica interrupted. ‘Why…?’
‘Your reputation, my lady.’ Thomas wrung his hands together. ‘The master will kill me if anything happens…and you can’t even climb out of the window, there’s a man outside…’
Angelica gathered her scattered wits together.
‘There’s no need to worry about my reputation,’ she said firmly. ‘Sir William is an old acquaintance. I’m sure I can deal with him.’
‘But—’
‘You go and take care of Adam. I’ll speak to Sir William. Be quick,’ she added crisply, as Thomas seemed rooted to the spot. ‘Presumably Sir William knows you as well. You wouldn’t want to bump into him on the landing!’
Thomas gave her a doubtful look, but he had no ideas of his own, and Angelica spoke with authority. The years spent running her father’s household stood her in good stead. Although she didn’t know it, she sounded very much like the Earl.
Thomas hurried back to Adam’s room as Angelica picked up James Corbett’s letter from the mantelpiece. Then she went to stand her ground at the top of the stairs. She could hear Sir William arguing with the innkeeper in the taproom below. The innkeeper was putting up a valiant resistance, but she knew he would soon be overborne. A few seconds later she heard Sir William thrust the old man impatiently aside and mount the stairs.
‘Good morning, Sir William,’ she said calmly.
At the sound of her voice he stopped dead, halfway up the stairs, looking up at her in blank astonishment.
There was very little light on the landing and he couldn’t see her clearly. All he was aware of was a tall, aloof young woman blocking his way. He certainly didn’t recognise Angelica.
‘Who the devil are you, miss?’ he snapped, surprise robbing him of courtesy.
‘I beg your pardon, Sir William,’ said Angelica coolly. ‘I’m sorry you don’t know me.’
She moved slightly so that he could see her more clearly in the light from the small casement window.
‘Lady Angelica!’ Sir William gasped in disbelief. ‘What the dev—? That is, my apologies, my lady. I had no idea the Earl was staying at this inn.’
‘He isn’t,’ said Angelica imperturbably, although her heart was hammering with nervousness.
She was trying to imagine how her father would have dealt with the situation. She wondered briefly if she’d made a mistake in sticking to her original plan; but if she’d claimed that it was Lord Ellewood in Adam’s room it would have been too easy to disprove her story.
‘He isn’t?’ Sir William stared at her in confusion and dawning suspicion. ‘I have heard no news of your marriage. Surely—’
‘Certainly not,’ said Angelica austerely, wondering if Sir William thought he’d discovered an elopement. ‘No such announcement has been made. I am here on quite other business.’
‘What other business?’ Sir William demanded bluntly.
Angelica looked past him to his two henchmen staring at her with open curiosity on the stairs.
‘It is a family matter, and one I am not prepared to discuss—certainly not in public,’ she said repressively.
Sir William flushed angrily, but turned and dismissed his men with a jerk of his head. They retreated reluctantly down the stairs, though Angelica had no doubt they would remain within earshot.
Benoît had wanted to avoid a scandal, and now it seemed she was well on the way to making one—but she couldn’t let Sir William discover Adam. Even if they could convince the magistrate he hadn’t been involved in smuggling, it would be very awkward for the spy to be seen here. Angelica took her responsibilities seriously.
‘Now, miss,’ said Sir William grimly. ‘Perhaps you will tell me what business brings you so far from home without the Earl’s protection.’
‘My father has not left home for more than eighteen months,’ said Angelica rather bitterly. ‘I am surprised you have not heard.’
‘I am sorry, Angelica,’ said Sir William more gently, startled by the bleakness in her voice. ‘I called on him in town several times. I was told he was not at home.’
‘I’m sorry. I did not know.’ Angelica looked away, momentarily forgetting why she was confronting the magistrate at the top of the stairs.
‘I will call on him again,’ said Sir William. ‘In the meantime,’ he added briskly, ‘I must warn you that you have chosen a most unsuitable place to conduct your business. I have good reason to believe that there is a wounded smuggler hiding in this inn. Please step aside. I intend to search every room, and I apologise in advance for any inconvenience I may cause you.’
‘I regret, I cannot allow you to continue,’ said Angelica resolutely, without moving from the top of the stairs.
Sir William stared at her.
‘You won’t allow—?’ he exclaimed explosively. ‘My lady, I do not understand you! This is not a matter of personal preference. There is a fugitive from justice hiding here!’
It occurred to Angelica that, if Sir William always wasted so much time making angry announcements about his intentions, it wasn’t surprising Toby Faulkener had run rings around him. If Adam hadn’t been quite so badly wounded he and Thomas could probably have dealt with the man beneath the window and made good their escape by now. As it was, she was just going to have to make sure Sir William stayed on the right side of the door herself.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said coolly. ‘This is a small inn and I have been staying here for several days. I’m sure I would know if there was a wounded man here.’
‘I was told he was brought here late at night…’ Sir William had been thrown off balance by Angelica’s presence and he hadn’t quite got his argument together.
‘Perhaps you were misinformed,’ she said sweetly, well aware of how exasperating the magistrate would find her suggestion. ‘I understand it’s happened to you before.’
Sir William glared at her.
‘Just what is your business here, my lady?’ he demanded bluntly. ‘I’ll not have you make a game of me—or my office.’
Angelica hesitated, staring at him aloofly.
‘It’s a matter of considerable delicacy,’ she said at last, with obvious reluctance. ‘I could not confide in you without your promise not to repeat what I tell you.’
‘For God’s sake!’ Sir William exploded. ‘You don’t have to coach me on matters of delicacy or honour, miss! What—are—you—doing—here?’
Angelica handed him James Corbett’s letter without another word.
Sir William stared at it blankly for a moment, then squinted at it, holding it at arm’s length as he tried to read it. The light at the top of the stairs was too poor, and Angelica stepped aside to let him go over to the small window, though she remained standing with her back to Adam’s door.
At last sir William lowered the letter and looked at her.
‘I had no idea’ he exclaimed. ‘I had not heard. Poor Harry! But—’
‘Please send your men away,’ Angelica interrupted. ‘You have my word that there are no wounded smugglers in this house, Sir William. Someone had to bring me the letter,’ she added softly.
She saw a measure of understanding dawn in his eyes, then he strode downstairs and she heard his strong voice dismissing most of his men.
She gave a deep sigh of relief, then glanced around as she hea
rd Adam’s door open a crack.
‘My lady?’ Thomas murmured questioningly.
‘I think we’re winning. Stay inside,’ she said briefly.
‘The master is going to kill me,’ said Thomas with feeling. ‘Now I really will have to run away to sea!’
He closed the door softly as Sir William came back upstairs.
‘What’s going on, Angelica?’ he said, and from his tone it was clear he was determined to get to the bottom of things. ‘Who is in that room? Does the Earl know you are here?’
Angelica hesitated. She had no desire to discuss her affairs on the open landing but, on the other hand, she was afraid to leave Adam’s door unguarded in case someone else decided to investigate. She knew Sir William hadn’t sent all his men away.
‘Someone had to bring us the letter,’ she repeated, to gain time. ‘You can see it’s had a difficult journey.’ She paused. ‘Anyone in a position to help Harry might be in considerable danger if Bonaparte learned their identity,’ she said very softly and deliberately. ‘I cannot let you or your men—especially not your men—into that room, Sir William. Your arrival has certainly complicated things for us. We were hoping to be as unobtrusive as possible. Now I dread to think of the rumours and gossip which will be flying around the countryside and perhaps coming to the wrong ears!’
‘Dammit! My lady!’ Sir William flushed angrily. ‘I acted in good faith. If you knew you were conducting such delicate business in this district you would have done better to come to me in the first place. I am one of your father’s oldest friends even if he is no longer prepared to receive me. And I hope I can be trusted to keep a secret!’
‘Oh, Sir William, I’m sorry!’ Angelica stretched out an impulsive hand towards him.
The magistrate had clearly been badly hurt by her father’s withdrawal—and now he was aggrieved to have been excluded from news of Harry’s fate.
‘I have been so anxious these past few months, particularly since we learnt about Harry, that I haven’t always been thinking straight,’ she said apologetically. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you—or to be so rude to you earlier,’ she added sincerely. ‘But your unexpected arrival with all your men frightened me half out of my wits!’
Claire Thornton Page 16
