Suddenly someone shouted behind him and he turned sharply to see Jacob striding toward him, demanding to know who he was and the nature of his business.
‘Me, sir?’
Jane saw the shadow move away.
‘Yes, you,’ replied Jacob, standing before him with his hands on his hips.
‘I’m Jack Smith, sir. I’m looking for work.’
‘Oh, yes? Out of here, my laddo, and don’t come snooping around again or you’ll get hotter treatment, is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir.’ The man moved hastily away, almost running toward the archway.
Jacob glanced toward the open stable door, hesitating for a moment and then withdrawing. Best leave well alone.
As silence fell again, Lewis at last relaxed his grip on Jane, raising his head to look down at her. A mocking smile twisted his lips, then he rolled from her and got up, brushing the straw from his clothes.
She lay there trembling, and didn’t say anything.
He stood over her, his gaze cold again as he looked at her, taking in her tousled hair and disarranged skirts. ‘Madam,’ he said softly, ‘you lack all modesty.’
She found her tongue then. ‘And you, sir, lack all gallantry.’
‘Ah, so you begin to recover your lost composure, do you?’ He held his hand out to her then. ‘Don’t lie there like that, my lady, I might take it as an invitation.’
She accepted the hand, but he paused in the act of pulling her to her feet. ‘Forgive me, madam, I’ve just remembered that you said I lacked all gallantry, so I suppose I should act the part completely.’ Abruptly, he released her so that she tumbled back into the straw.
He turned on his heel then and strode out, climbing into the cabriolet and driving off without giving her another glance.
TWENTY-TWO
A week was to pass before she saw him again, because he left Town for Maywood, taking Alicia with him. For the Swan the week was very eventful indeed, and not pleasantly so.
The reappearance of Arthur Huggett and the excellent times he immediately began to make, brought renewed determination from Chapman to be rid of this unwanted rival on the Brighton road. The boxing-ins and feather-edgings continued, and the use of informers was stepped up. It was due to the activities of the latter that four days before the race Jacob was hauled before the magistrates to explain no less than three separate infringements of the law.
The first incident had taken place at the Kennington tollgate, when, unseen by either Arthur or the guard, a rosy-faced, honest-looking outsider had perched himself on top of his luggage and broken the coach-height regulations, a fact which was pointed out to the tollkeeper by none other than the hated Byers himself, who was waiting by the gate. An on-the-spot inspection had resulted in the matter being reported, and Arthur had been left cursing the momentary lapse of concentration which had allowed the thing to happen.
The second and third incidents lay at the unfortunate Will’s door, and they happened not because he had been careless but because he had been too soft-hearted. On Banstead Downs during a thunderstorm, he had been persuaded to stop the Swan and ‘shoulder’ a young mother and child to Reigate without entering their names on the waybill. At Reigate, naturally enough, one of Byers’s men was in waiting, since the mother and child weren’t innocent travelers but were there to deliberately trap Will into some foolishness. The third incident, and the one which finally brought poor Jacob to court, had taken place in the yard of the Red Lion at Handcross, when Will had unwisely accept as genuine an anxious parson who had implored him to carry a large hamper, said to contain medicines, herbs, and fortified wine for an extremely ill relative in Brighton. Even after the business with the mother and child, Will proved foolish enough to agree, because the parson seemed so distressed. But the moment the hamper was loaded, the Swan’s luggage allowance was exceeded and the vigilant Byers was there to record the fact.
Three violations of the law in as many days had proved too much for the magistrates, who were no longer prepared to deal only in fines. A summons had arrived at the Feathers and Jacob had been hauled off to court to answer for his coach’s misdemeanors. He had gone very reluctantly indeed, because not only was his license in jeopardy but the magistrates, if they felt so inclined, might imprison him.
Jane waited at the Feathers for his return, having gone there straightaway with Ellen when she’d heard the news. They sat in the kitchen with Betsy, Will, Arthur, and the two guards. Betsy was in tears, holding Will’s hand and dabbing her red-rimmed eyes from time to time with her handkerchief. Jane glanced around the low-beamed room with its spotless whitewashed walls and immense dressers. The smell of baking hung in the air because Betsy had earlier felt she must do something while she waited for news of her father. Mutton was roasting on the jack before the open fire, which was always lighted for this purpose instead of using the range, and a kettle sang softly as it simmered. Baskets of fresh vegetables stood on the red-tiled floor ready for the day’s meals, but no one felt hungry. They all sat despondently around the scrubbed table, the four men sunk with gloom and guilt about what they had variously permitted to happen, but it was Jane who felt worst of all, for if it hadn’t been for her wild schemes, Jacob wouldn’t be in his present predicament.
She felt wretched, and in spite of the humiliation she’d suffered at her last encounter with Lewis, she wished he was at the Feathers now instead of at Maywood with his odious mistress. She lowered her eyes. She’d been on the point of going to him to admit that she wanted him still and to beg him to forget all that had gone wrong between them, but then Charles had told her that Alicia had gone to Maywood as well. Her confession of love had remained unsaid, and so matters remained the same between them, but, oh, how she wished he was here now, his mere presence would have comforted her. She smiled wryly to herself then, for if he had been there no doubt he would have reminded her that all this was her fault, because she’d refused his advice to leave the whole business alone. He’d have been right, too, it was her fault, and if Jacob went to prison she’d never forgive herself.
It seemed that they’d been sitting there for hours, but it wasn’t that long, and Jane was just about to suggest that Will go along to the court to see what was happening when they heard the familiar and welcome sound of Jacob’s steps approaching the door.
With a glad cry, Betsy jumped to her feet, running into her father’s arms as he came into the room. ‘Dad! Oh, Dad, they let you go!’
He held her tightly for a moment. ‘Yes, love, they let me go, but only just.’ He fixed his gaze on the four men around the table. ‘And we still have our license.’
They all sat back in relief, but Jane didn’t share their smiles. She got up. ‘Mr Wheddle, this has all been my fault and I feel very much to blame. I’m persuaded that my whole notion of winning the race was the height of foolishness—’
‘You’ve changed your mind?’ He looked at her in concern.
‘I think it best that I do. If they’d sentenced you to prison—’
‘It wouldn’t have been your fault, Lady Jane, it would have been the fault of these four fools here.’ He approached the table looking darkly at the men, and at Will in particular, since he had been the greatest offender. ‘All three of those infringements were avoidable, gentlemen, and yet you still proceeded to commit them, even though you knew how Chapman’s after us for still being on the road. You broke the law, and when you were caught you still went on and did it again! I’ve had to pay a hefty fine this morning to get the Swan off the hook, and I’ve been warned that if there’s another infringement, no matter how small, I’ll forfeit the license and go inside. Things didn’t go how friend Chapman wanted them to this morning, and he won’t be pleased that we’re still operating. Be more on your guard from now on; don’t let anything else happen in the next four days, or so help me I’ll come down on you like a ton of bricks and there won’t be one of you with your heads above the surface ever again. Is that quite clear?’
He’d
said it all in a slow, reasonable tone, but there was a steeliness in his voice and manner which told them that he meant every word he said. The four men shifted uncomfortably and nodded, while poor Will looked so miserable that Betsy had to go to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Jacob turned to Jane then. ‘Begging your pardon if I’ve spoken roughly in front of you, my lady, but it all had to be said. It also has to be said that no one’s twisted my arm to make me agree to your plan, and I can honestly say that the last thing I want to do is give up, not now that Chapman’s leaned on me like this. I’m damned if I want him to get away with it. Begging your pardon again,’ he added quickly for having sworn in front of her.
But if something else should happen….’
‘It won’t,’ he replied, eyeing the men again. ‘All right,’ he said to them, ‘hop it now, and don’t cross my path again. My temper isn’t the best.’
As one, they rose to their feet and went out, followed by a rather cross Betsy, who wasn’t too pleased with her father for singling Will out so particularly. Ellen hesitated for a moment, but then decided to follow the others and leave her mistress to speak privately with the inkeeper.
The door closed behind them all and Jacob looked a little ruefully at Jane. ‘Now Betsy’s displeased with me, and that’s down to Will Huggett as well!’
‘Will’s a good man, Mr Wheddle.’
‘I know, I just wish he could be a little more hard-headed. He’s too soft by far, open to every hard-luck story he’s told, and if he’s going to marry my daughter and one day have this place….’ He shook his head.
‘To have the Feathers he’ll have to marry Betsy, and I don’t think she’ll listen too much to hard-luck stories.’
He grinned at that. ‘No, she’s got a sensible head on her shoulders, except where that great softy’s concerned,’ he added.
Jane sat down again. ‘So, we’re still on the road and still going to be in the race. You do think Mrs Mountain will deliver the new coach in time, don’t you?’
‘She will, you can count upon it. I’ve been thinking though….’
‘Yes?’
‘About what Lord Ardenley said. Maybe he’s right about the new Nonpareil.’
‘Having brakes, you mean?’
‘That, and more. I’ve found out that it was delivered at the Black Horse in the dead of night, covered in a tarpaulin and conveyed on a wagon. The man who saw it reckoned it was far too low to be an ordinary stagecoach. It could be one of those new-fangled safety coaches.’
‘And if it is? Surely they aren’t any faster than the more conventional coach?’
‘Maybe not faster, but some of them are much more steady on corners and bad cambers. If the new Nonpareil has brakes and safety design, then we might indeed be taking on more than we bargained for. I’d give my eye teeth to get a glimpse at it, but he’s got it well under lock and key, and guarded all the time. I’m tempted to follow Lord Ardenley’s advice and have brakes fitted.’
‘Perhaps we’ll be able to find out before the race.’
‘How?’
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted.
‘And four days isn’t very long, is it? If only I could feel confident that brakes wouldn’t strain the wheels in just one day….’ He sighed. ‘Still, there’s not much to be done just yet, and I doubt if there’s anything which can be done, for if there was, your brother the earl would have done it. I happen to know that he’s had men crawling all over the Black Horse trying to get to the new coach, but Chapman’s picked each one out and sent him packing.’
‘Henry is as alarmed as we are, Mr Wheddle, because he has chosen to place his faith in a conventional coach too.’
Jacob grinned. ‘Aye, a fancy drag with silver harness and lamps, shining bright green panels and green velvet upholstery! From Powell of Bond Street! No doubt he has teams of perfectly matched bloodstock lined up at the ready – grays, I’ll warrant.’
She had to smile. ‘Strawberry roans, actually.’
‘He means to cut a dash or two on the day, doesn’t he?’
‘He means to and he will.’
‘Aye, and what sort of spectacle are we going to cut?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The new Swan might have fancy bloodstock, but it isn’t going to be a fancy coach; it’s built for a purpose, to very basic requirements.’
‘We don’t need silver harnesses and pretty lacquer panels, sir, we simply need to come in first, and with Lord Ardenley’s horses, Arthur’s skill, and Mrs Mountain’s coach, we’re going to do just that.’
Jane and Ellen returned to South Audley Street in their usual secret manner, taking a hackney to the corner of Arlington Street and then slipping into the waiting carriage, with Thomas at the ribbons. Jane gladly flicked her veil back the moment she was inside. She had quickly become used to the secrecy, even finding it exciting, especially when things happened like the moment on their last expedition when she’d stepped down from the hackney almost onto the toes of none other than Lord Sefton himself! He hadn’t recognized her and had walked on, muttering that it wasn’t safe for a fellow to walk abroad without some strange female treading all over him. She’d wondered what the marshal of the race would have said had he known who the strange female really was.
She arrived at South Audley Street to find a pleasant surprise awaiting her; Aunt Derwent had come to stay and was waiting for her in the blue saloon.
Lady Agatha Derwent was a soft, rosy person, her rounded figure laced tightly beneath her blue sprigged muslin gown. Her light brown hair was sprinkled with gray now, but still shone and curled beautifully beneath her large, lace-trimmed day bonnet. She had rather short-sighted hazel eyes and wore spectacles on the end of her nose, giving her a quaintly prim appearance which somehow did not take away at all from her general attractiveness. In that brief moment, Jane wondered again about the whispers concerning the Duke of Wellington, but knew that she would probably never know the answer, because those hazel eyes, which were usually so warm and soft, could freeze in a moment at an unwise or unwelcome question, and could freeze the unfortunate questioner as well.
Not knowing her niece was there, Aunt Derwent continued with her work for a moment. She was seated at her tambour frame embroidering a shawl, and her hook was flashing busily in and out. Then she sensed Jane’s presence and looked up with a glad smile. ‘My dear! How good it is to see you again! Come and give me a hug!’
Jane hurried to comply. ‘Oh, Aunt Derwent, why didn’t you let me know you were coming, I’d have been here to greet you.’
‘Well, arriving unannounced, or at least pretending one is about to do so, appears to be a recent penchant of Derwent women,’ replied the older woman, smiling and raising an eye-brow to remind her niece of the fake visit to Beaconsfield.
Jane bit her lip. ‘I’m truly sorry about that.’
‘Please don’t be. I don’t mind being dragged into it – in fact, I’m enjoying the whole business. That’s why I’m here. I couldn’t bear to stay out in the sticks any more. I had to be here, where everything’s happening. Tell me, how did your Mr Wheddle get on today?’
Jane stared at her. ‘How on earth do you know about that?’
‘I’ve been pumping Melville.’
Jane stared even more. ‘Melville? But how does he know?’
‘My dear girl, don’t be so innocent. Servants know everything. That butler rules below stairs with a rod of iron and it’s more than your maid’s life is worth to hold her tongue about what’s happening up here. I knew that if I wanted to know how things were going on, all I had to do was fix him with an even steelier eye than he fixes upon his minions, and I’d learn the lot.’
Jane had to smile. ‘You’re quite incorrigible, do you know that?’
‘Yes. Now then, about Mr Wheddle’s court appearance.’
‘Well, we still have our license and Mr Wheddle isn’t languishing in jail but is safely back at the Feathers.’
‘Excellent. And ha
ve you found out about the new Nonpareil yet?’
Jane sat down, laughing a little in astonishment. ‘Well, I’m sure that Melville didn’t tell you about that!’
‘No, Henry did – indeed, he talked of little else throughout luncheon, it was most disagreeable. I’m at a loss to understand the change in him. Tell me, is coaching now his sole topic of conversation?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then he does indeed warrant teaching a lesson he won’t forget. Otherwise he’ll sink beyond all hope of retrieval. Do you know, he didn’t mention poor Blanche once, not once. Anyway, where were we? Ah yes, the new Nonpareil.’
‘We don’t know anything, just that it seems to be very low, which suggests that it might be one of those new safety coaches.’
‘Is it very important that we find out before the race?’
‘Yes, because if it’s fitted with brakes it will have an advantage.’
‘Brakes? Is this Chapman fellow likely to be that new-fangled?’
‘Lewis – Lord Ardenley thinks he is.’
‘And Lewis’s judgment in such things is always so very sound, isn’t it?’
‘So I’m told.’
‘Don’t be huffy, dear, it isn’t becoming.’ The tambour hook began to move again. ‘So, Nonpareil permitting, we’re well on our way still?’
‘Our way?’
‘You don’t think I’ve come here to sit and do nothing, do you? Au contraire, ma petite, I’ve come to do my bit. I have to earn my place in the Swan with you on the day.’
Jane was startled. ‘But you can’t possibly!’
‘Why not?’
‘Because not even Blanche will travel on the Swan with me.’
Now it was Aunt Derwent’s turn to be surprised. ‘Blanche? Is she in on it too? How splendid! That will teach young Henry to be so silly. You say she isn’t traveling with you on the day? Why not?’
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