A Scandalous Journey: The Amberley Chronicles

by May Burnett

  “That makes sense,” he agreed, “but that inn will also be the best place for us to say good-bye. Once you are in your natural environment, you can invent some suitable story. You had to nurse your sick companion, or whatever will best protect you from censure. Besides, I don’t want to abandon Emperor in that livery stable any longer than I must.”

  Monique knew he was right, but still felt reluctant to agree. So these were the last hours in his company. Since they were of such different classes and nothing could come of their companionship, it was for the best. Why did that reflection leave her so dispirited and hollow?

  “I still want to know how your story goes on,” she said, “if it were at all permissible, I would ask you to write in a few months and reassure me that you have found a firm path.” The mere suggestion was daringly fast, but after all they had been through together, normal rules no longer applied. And nobody had to know, after all.

  “I would like that, but you know as well as I that it would not do. Once you meet your friends and are safe, you must forget all about this episode in your life. But I confess, I also want to know who attacked us, and whether they will be punished in the end. Are you confident that your Uncle – Mr. Ellsworthy – will be able to protect you, and get to the bottom of this matter?”

  “Oh, yes, if anyone can, it is he. He has successfully dealt with a variety of thorny problems over the years. Have I mentioned that he is also a noted philanthropist? He would do it for me alone, but he and my father are fast friends. Uncle James will be as anxious to protect and avenge me as my parents will be, once they hear of this.”

  “I only hope your parents don’t have a heart attack when they do.”

  “No, for they will know I am safe at the same time. They’ll be furious at the person responsible, however.”

  “And so they should.”

  ***

  The next few hours passed quickly. Conscious that this was her last chance to draw out the Captain, Monique was more talkative than usual, but he grew taciturn as they approached their destination. He was right that any further acquaintance or correspondence would be frowned upon, but Monique had her resources. She could find out what happened to him, if he was happy, whether he founded a family. With that protective streak and even temper, he would make a good father. Would he find a girl who appreciated him properly? Eventually, she hoped, but not too soon.

  The recent lack of dangerous incidents almost made Monique nervous. Had her pursuer given up, presuming that there was only one person left to chase them? Had he guessed her destination? In that case he might already be ensconced near Amberley, waiting for a chance to pounce. And after her arrival in Amberley she would still need to be on her guard, if not for her safety any longer, for her reputation. It was too much to hope that only the extended family would be in residence at this time of the year. Given Lady Amberley’s hospitable habits, ten to one she would find a fashionable house party complete with dinners, picnics and balls for the entire county, which meant she could not afford a single careless word.

  Monique was used to intrigue, and knew how to keep secrets. In exclusive circles, unconventional behaviour was tolerated as long as it did not come to the notice of outsiders; servants were well paid to be discreet. The Ellsworthy family would support whatever story they agreed on. If she could reach Amberley without raising attention, she might yet escape any adverse consequences.

  At last the coach stopped at Kendal, the town closest to Amberley, though the distance to the estate was still a good hour by carriage. Just as well, as it lessened the danger of being recognized. They walked to a smaller inn that was not directly served by coaches. The hour was just before noon, when most fashionable persons were not yet out and about, though in the countryside you never knew. The Captain found a messenger who set off towards Amberley on horseback, with Monique’s note. Would her friends already wait for news of her? Very likely. The staff in Sussex would have written, and there had been those endless delays…

  “Let’s order lunch while we wait,” she suggested, and since she was still in her boy’s garb, the Captain placed their orders. She felt melancholy and had little appetite, but the Captain never let her get away with starving herself, as he called it. She was incapable of gaining weight, but it was only due to him that she had not lost a couple of pounds during their peripatetic flight. Never again would he urge her to keep her strength up. She sighed.

  Even now, so close to their farewell, the Captain was keeping his back to the wall, and carefully scrutinizing all arrivals. This inn was small and old, and few guests frequented the common room. No lady of quality would do so – she was safe from encounters with women of her own class, though gentlemen were less restricted, and went where they pleased. With luck they would all prefer the busier inn near the coach stop.

  The food was palatable enough. Monique toyed with her ham and cast uneasy glances at the door. It seemed too easy, this ending, after all their troubles. Surely her enemies had not quite given up? This might be their last chance to strike, before she was surrounded by the tight security of Amberley.

  “If your friends are angry at me,” the Captain said, “I am perfectly ready to give them satisfaction.”

  She blinked. “Why would they be? On the contrary, they must be grateful for your assistance and protection, as I am. I don’t know what I would have done in this emergency without your help, and will never forget it.”

  “It was my pleasure. But you would have managed, I think. You are strong and clever, despite your apparent frailness and small size. It did not take me long to understand that you are a remarkable, surprisingly resilient woman. The kind who would have followed her man to the battlefields, or to some dangerous colony, if you had been born into a different class.”

  So he had pictured her as an officer’s wife? Indeed, if she were not who she was, the prospect might have interested her. But he was no longer a soldier, and she was the daughter of a Marquis and one of the greatest heiresses in France. Esteem and distant friendship was all there could ever be between them.

  They finished their leisurely meal and ordered a large pot of tea, merely to pass the time. Seeing that no inconvenient witnesses were about, Monique excused herself to use the necessary. During the recent journey washing and bodily necessities had required all kinds of subterfuge, to avoid exposure, but happily all that was about to end.

  Upon returning to the common room she heard loud voices and instinctively drew back. One belonged to the Captain, but she did not recognize the others. It was still too early for Uncle James to arrive, considering that the messenger would not likely have hurried, and that she had asked to bring luggage for her arrival, and a lady’s dress. Not one of the Ellsworthy ladies was as small and thin as Monique, so it would take a while to find something suitable.

  “This is ridiculous! I don’t know anything about it!” the Captain was asserting with more exasperation than she had yet heard from him. Should she go in, lend her support? But, dressed as a boy, her word would carry little weight, and she could get dragged into exactly the kind of scandal they had just spent so much time and effort to avoid.

  The serving maid came by with two tankards in her hand.

  “What is going on?” Monique whispered.

  “No idea. The constables came to arrest that young man who arrived with you, for some crime or other.” She frowned at Monique. “We don’t want your kind here.”

  That was the last thing Monique had expected. Was it about the dead man, after that ambush? She would be needed as witness, but there was nothing she could do before she had assumed her normal, respectable persona.

  Was there anything she could do to stop the arrest? “Better get the money for our food before they drag him off,” she suggested. “The Captain has the purse.”

  The girl followed her suggestion. From what Monique could overhear, the Captain paid up without demur.

  “Where’s that whelp you were travelling with? Who is he?” The voice sounded
local, and suspicious.

  “Just a boy travelling in the same direction, whom I befriended on the coach,” was the indifferent answer. Monique was glad but not surprised that Captain Kinninmont was keeping his wits. As long as she remained free, she could mobilize her friends to rescue him. It was puzzling that these constables, if that was who they were, did not know about her.

  “This is all a misunderstanding,” the Captain said very loudly. For her benefit? He had to guess that she was close by. “I certainly have never held up a coach and robbed it. The very idea is absurd.”

  Monique’s mouth opened in surprise. He was accused of robbery, the very thing her enemies had tried against them? Who would dare raise such an accusation?

  “If you’re innocent, it will be sorted out,” the constable said gruffly. “You admit you are Duncan Kinninmont, late a Captain of the 125th Foot?”

  “Certainly.”

  Monique clutched the doorjamb, physically forcing herself to remain where she was, and not to rush in and berate that constable. With Uncle James at her side, in her elegant Parisian clothes, she would be more effective. But why this absurd accusation? Were her enemies trying to separate her protector from Monique, to kill her more easily? The constable sounded too genuine and indifferent to be part of any such plot. He was probably acting in good faith on information received, believing he had caught a dangerous criminal.

  Shaking with anger, she found it hard to think clearly. Had the person who had ordered this new outrage been standing in front of Monique, she might have slapped him. How dared they?! The Captain was hers. Nobody was allowed to arrest or harm him.

  “So you plan to lock me up in the local jail? Don’t worry, I won’t resist. I am a peaceful fellow,” the Captain said, still in a carrying voice.

  Monique drew back from the doorway, subduing her feelings with a great effort. She needed to hide, until Uncle James arrived and helped sort out this ridiculous tangle of lies.

  Chapter 13

  After a quick, frantic search, Monique found a hiding-place in the branches of an old cherry tree in the inn’s back garden. She rested her back against the trunk, perched between two branches, feeling very small and alone as she expected to face murderous foes at any moment.

  Gradually her heartbeat returned to its normal cadence. All she heard was the humming of bees and chirping of small birds. These humdrum, peaceful noises nearly drove her to distraction. Had the Captain drawn the ire of her enemies by protecting her? What was going on? When was he supposed to have robbed that coach? If it had been within the last days, Monique could give him an alibi, and would, if it were necessary to save his life and liberty. But how could there be enough evidence to convict an innocent man? Was English justice astute enough to see through whatever lies were adduced against him? She did not feel great confidence in that unknown judge or jury. Once a person stood officially accused, the general presumption was for guilt, no matter if legal theory said otherwise. Fatal errors occurred far too often.

  Since Monique’s view was blocked by the inn and the leaves all around her, her ears strained all the harder. She must not miss Uncle James, when he arrived at last. Though if she knew him, he would find her even here, no matter how well hidden.

  At last she heard a familiar voice, but it was that of Lady Verena, Lord Amberley’s older daughter. “Let me see if the young varmint is hiding in the garden.”

  From the back door of the inn, the barmaid escorted an elegant young lady. A huge bonnet shaded her features and covered her hair, but the voice was enough for Monique to recognize her friend.

  With a sigh of relief, she scrambled down. Even in pantaloons, climbing down the branches was more difficult than going up, and the rough bark scraped her gloveless palms. It was over a decade since she had last climbed a tree.

  “Verena! How glad I am to see you!”

  An imperious gesture halted her in her tracks. “That’s Lady Verena to you, young man.”

  Oh. Of course. Verena would be anxious to preserve Monique’s good name, and while she was dressed as a boy, no familiarity towards an earl’s daughter could be permitted.

  She ducked her head shamefacedly and muttered. “Sorry, m’lady,” in a gruff voice. A boy would have doffed his cap, but hers was still fixed to her head with hairpins.

  Verena turned to the serving maid, the picture of aristocratic hauteur. “Leave us and see what further service my friend may require. I fear I must lecture my young acquaintance on his manners.”

  The maid curtsied, and turned away. Monique and Verena stayed immobile, staring at each other, until the kitchen door closed behind her.

  Before Monique could say another word, Verena enveloped her in a hug. “Forgive me, dear – but we have to prevent gossip at all costs.”

  “I know. In my relief and surprise at seeing you, I forgot everything else. I was expecting Uncle James.” She took a deep breath. “Do you know if my companion and the servants survived? I have been so worried about them.”

  “They are still in Sussex, but to my knowledge all are recovering, or already well again,” Verena assured her. “They are as worried about you, as we all have been. Uncle James left Amberley early in the morning, searching for you, as he has done the last two days. We all were in the greatest fear for your life, though we did not speak of it to our other guests.”

  So there was a house party in Amberley. Monique would have to be doubly careful not to give anything away, and the lack of proper clothes would be a problem. “Did you bring me a dress, as I asked in my note?”

  “Yes, but it is not in the very latest fashion, since only Amy’s dresses from last year are the right size. At least I hope they are,” Verena said. “You look so strange in these male garments. How can you bear to expose your body like that? And you look terribly young, a fairly convincing boy. More convincing than I could ever be.”

  That was true enough. Verena’s figure was too well-curved above and below her narrow waist to admit of such a disguise.

  “I am grateful you came to rescue me, but the danger! I wrote that someone is trying to kill me, has already made several attempts. You should not have come, Verena.”

  “Well, I am here now.” Her friend was blithely unconcerned. “It was worth it, if only to see you emerge from that tree like a little squirrel.”

  “A squirrel? I wish I were half as athletic and graceful,” Monique said ruefully. “As for exposing my extremities, you would be surprised how quickly one gets used to it, especially if nobody takes notice of you. Besides, they are covered in more substantial cloth than some evening dresses provide. In my Cupid disguise, at the royal ball in Paris, I was far more self-conscious.”

  “I should think so. How alarmingly fast! I would like to have seen it.”

  “Never mind that now. Did you come alone, or with guards?”

  “In the interests of discretion, I only brought Violet and Jacob, our own coachman. Roger is with Uncle James, scouring the area for you.”

  “As soon as we are safe at Amberley, I must organise help for the young man who escorted and protected me on this journey. He has been taken to the local jail.”

  Verena frowned. “Is he some kind of criminal?”

  “Of course not! Someone accuses him of robbing a coach, I gather. Fortunately I was not arrested as an accomplice, as could easily have happened.”

  “Heaven forfend! Even Mother would find it difficult to rescue your reputation after that, especially if you had been taken in your current garb. I see Violet and I arrived in the nick of time.”

  Verena seemed to care little for saving the Captain, but of course she had never met him. Monique tried again. “We have to do something about Captain Kinninmont, immediately. I am as worried about him, as about my own safety.

  “Oho! Just who is this young man to you? Is he heroic, manly, handsome?”

  “He is my friend. Anything else is unimportant.”

  “Mother always says that friendship between young people of opp
osite sex is a very rare thing,” Verena remarked. “We would only attract unwanted attention if we linger here. I can send a servant back to make inquiries. When the men return, in the evening, we can consult them how to help this young man. But presumably a soldier can look after himself. The main consideration is your safety.”

  “Very well,” Monique acquiesced, stifling her misgivings. She was in over her head, and needed allies if she was to preserve the Captain from a dire fate. “Where should I change?”

  “In the carriage, on the way home. Violet and I will avert our eyes, if your modesty demands it.”

  After all that had happened, Monique did not give a fig about maidenly modesty.

  She followed Verena to the front of the inn, head down. On the way she collected the modest bag she had left in a corner, and carried it towards the elegant travelling coach with the Amberley arms painted on the sides. Nobody paid attention as she entered the coach from the far side. She grinned as she heard Violet Ellsworthy’s voice raised in imperious tones, reviling the poor quality of the tea. Clearly her assigned task was creating a diversion, and she would be drawing every eye with her statuesque blonde beauty.

  Five minutes later, Violet and Verena climbed into the carriage. Monique pressed her back into the leather cushions, making herself even smaller, so nobody would notice her presence inside the vehicle. The curtains were drawn over the windows, the horses set off, and she let out a long sigh of relief even as Violet Ellsworthy clasped both of her hands in welcome.

  “At last you are found! I am so glad to see you alive and well.”

  Could it really be this easy? Where were her dangerous pursuers? Had they observed her entering the coach? Were they even now preparing to ambush it, as they had done to the old berline?