by Anne Herries
‘Yes, if it does,’ Arabella said. ‘I think that Tilda is possibly too old to be of any use as a whore, and she is not pretty, so we can be sure that she will not suffer that fate—but they may kill her. I know that she seems to be a fussy old maid, but she has more wit than they may imagine. If they realise that she would know and repeat things about them…’ She shook her head. ‘I must not speculate or I shall lie awake all night. Goodnight, Charles. Thank you for all you are doing.’
He smiled and shook his head. ‘I can never repay you for what you did for us,’ he said. He hesitated, and then touched her cheek with his fingertips. ‘My sister would have died if it were not for Nana and you. I would give all I have to help you, Arabella. My life if need be.’
‘Thank you, but I should never ask so much of you,’ she said in a voice husky with tears. Something in his manner was making her long to be in his arms, to weep on his shoulder, but she knew that she must not give way to her feelings. ‘I prefer that you should live and be my…friend.’ For a moment their eyes met and something passed between them. She thought that he would cross the barrier he had erected between them and take her in his arms, and she longed for him to do so—but he did not. She turned away before she could betray herself. ‘Goodnight…’
Inside her own room, Arabella felt the sting of tears, tasting the salt on her lips as they trickled down her cheeks. Would it always be like this between them? She was almost certain that Charles felt something for her. Was it merely physical desire? Even that would be acceptable to her—she would welcome the chance to lie in his arms if only for one night of passion. And yet she wanted his love to be a lasting thing. Every fibre of her body ached for him as she thought of him sitting outside her room, guarding her. She was tempted to open her door, to invite him in—into her bed—and yet pride would not let her.
She would not beg him to love her. Charles had chosen his own path of denial and he must take the first steps towards the chance of happiness that might be waiting for them both.
It was nearly time for luncheon the next morning when Mrs Bristol came into the parlour where the ladies were sitting, pretending to be busy with their needlework, but in truth on thorns for anything that might be happening outside the house. They had seen men patrolling the grounds and knew that the men Charles had sent for had arrived and were helping to protect them.
‘A young lad says he has a letter for you, ma’am,’ the housekeeper announced. ‘He comes from the village and says that he was told to give it to you and no one else.’
‘Thank you—you may bring him in,’ Arabella said. She stood up, her nerves jumping as she wondered if this was what they had been waiting for. As the housekeeper reappeared with a young lad, she gave a little start of surprise, for it was the lad who had so often held her horse for her. ‘Sam—do you have something for me?’
‘Yes, milady,’ the urchin said, taking off his greasy cap and extracting the note from inside. ‘There’s a gent staying at the inn. He gave me a florin and said as I was to bring this here and see as you had it—no one but you, ma’am.’
‘Thank you.’ Arabella took it from him. ‘Did this gentleman say anything else?’
‘He said I was to wait and see if there was an answer, milady.’
‘Very well.’ Arabella smiled at him, and then looked at her housekeeper. ‘Please take Sam to the kitchen and give him something to eat—and a florin, if you please. I shall read this letter and if I wish to reply I shall send for you, Sam.’
‘Yes, milady.’ The urchin looked at her. ‘Did I do right to bring it, milady? Only I don’t much like the look of the gent what give it to me.’
‘You did very right,’ Arabella said. ‘Go with Mrs Bristol now, if you please—and should the gentleman ask, tell him that I was alone when you gave me the note, will you?’
‘Yeah.’ The urchin grinned at her. ‘Do anything fer you, milady.’
‘Thank you. Go with Mrs Bristol now.’
She sat down on a chair by the window to read her note. Tilda had certainly written it for she recognised the way she had of curving her capital letters with some style, but there was something odd about it, which was hardly surprising since it must have been written under duress.
Forgive me. I am in some trouble and I need Your help. Please come to the summerhouse by the lake this evening at nine. I hope that I May rely on your help, Arabella. I would not ask if it were not desperate. Your loving friend, Tilda Redmond.
Arabella was still puzzling over the letter when Charles came in. He crossed to her immediately.
‘You have received a note? What does it say?’
‘It is from Tilda. I recognise her hand—but it is not a ransom note and there is something odd about it.’ She handed it to Charles who read it and frowned. ‘Do you see that she has formed a capital M in the middle of a sentence? Now why would she do that? Tilda is meticulous in all things. She would never make a mistake like that…’
‘Yes, I see…’ he agreed. ‘Do you imagine that it is some kind of clue?’
‘Perhaps, yes, it may be. As I told you, we called Sarah “May” when she came to us,’ Arabella said. ‘I think Tilda is trying to tell us something, Charles. I believe that she could be being held at Nana’s cottage. Sarah lived there for some months when we knew her as May—but these rogues might not know that. We discovered that someone had been using the cottage, did we not? And they could hardly hold Tilda a prisoner at the inn…’ She frowned. ‘I had intended to give the cottage to the groom I told you of, but in all the excitement it slipped my mind.’
‘Nor would certain gentlemen wish to have the trouble of looking after her,’ Charles said. ‘They would leave her to their bullyboys. If by chance she should be discovered before their plan could be put in place, they would not then be connected with her abduction or anything else.’
‘Yes, I think that is what she was telling us,’ Arabella agreed. ‘And there is something else. She has used capital letters in the wrong place twice and she has also used the same phrase twice. Do you think that…?’
‘Two men are guarding her?’ Charles was struck by her logic. ‘You have broken the code, Arabella. How clever of Tilda to have thought of it. Most people would not have noticed anything amiss.’
‘I should not if she were not always so meticulous about everything,’ Arabella said. ‘This gives us some advantage, does it not?’
‘Yes, indeed,’ Charles agreed. ‘We have enough men to guard the house and to attack the cottage, Arabella. I shall show Tobbold this and leave the rescue of Tilda to him, for he is more adept at such things than your own men.’
‘You do not think that they will kill her rather than let her go if they are attacked?’
‘Do not concern yourself,’ Charles told her. ‘Tobbold has more sense than to go storming in there. He will know how to do the thing. We shall wait until this evening—perhaps half an hour before they expect you to meet her in the summerhouse when it is getting dusk…’
‘Must we wait so long?’ Arabella asked. ‘Oh, I know I should not be impatient, but I cannot help feeling uneasy about poor Tilda.’
‘If she had the presence of mind to send you this message, I think she is managing quite well,’ Charles said and smiled. ‘I take my hat off to Miss Redmond, Arabella. She is not as foolish as some might think her.’
‘No, indeed she is not,’ Arabella said. ‘Well, if we must wait I suppose there is nothing more we can do for the moment.’ She raised her brows at him. ‘Do you still intend that I should keep this appointment this evening?’
‘I think you should send a reply promising to meet Tilda. However, I do not believe it will be necessary if Tilda is where we think.’ Charles smiled grimly. ‘I have quite another plan in mind, which I shall tell you, though I must ask you not to disclose it to anyone else…’
Tilda had been working at loosening her bonds for hours. It was not easy and her wrists were quite sore, for those ruffians had bound her tightly. However
, the knots were beginning to give way and she thought that she might be able to free herself soon. She could hear the men talking in the room downstairs and she wondered if she dared try to escape once she was free. It was ages since she had woken up with a headache from the bang she had received on the back of her skull, and as yet she had been given nothing to eat.
They had freed her hands to make her write that letter to Arabella. At first she had tried to resist, but when they had told her that she would be killed if she did not she had given in. She was glad of that, for they had neglected to tie her as tightly the next time, and at last the knots were beginning to give way. Soon she would manage to get free and then one way or another she must escape. She did hope that Arabella would guess what she was trying to say and would not be foolish enough to go to the summerhouse alone. Somehow she did not believe that Mr Hunter would allow it, because she had observed that he was more interested in Arabella than he permitted to show.
She tugged frantically at the ropes that bound her, wanting to be free. She thought it must be past eight in the evening and she was very hungry. Her stomach was rumbling and she did not think that she could bear it much longer. Once her hands were free, and that could not be many minutes now, she would make her bid for freedom. She thought that she would rather die trying to escape than lie here and starve to death, for she believed that they intended to leave her here when they went to the summerhouse. Either someone would return to kill her or she would be left to starve. Unless Arabella had deciphered her message…
‘I do not think I want to be there when you grab Arabella,’ Ralph said as they were preparing to leave the inn that evening. ‘You said that you would return my notes if I helped you, Welch. I have done what you asked. Surely you do not need me for this part of the business?’
‘You are a coward and a fool,’ Sir Courtney said and his thick lips curved in a sneer of derision. ‘You want to run away, don’t you?’
‘I shall not be of much help to you in this,’ Ralph said. ‘Perhaps I should go to the cottage and deal with the other one?’
‘Please yourself,’ Sir Courtney said. ‘It is true that you will not be of much help to me. I dare say you have served your purpose. Ride with me until the parting of the ways, and then you may go to the cottage. Brice and Jackson will have left there by now and be on their way to the summerhouse. My groom will have the carriage in place and I shall be waiting to carry off my blushing bride. I shall not need you again—but don’t come crawling to me next time you want something.’
‘No, I shan’t,’ Ralph said, relief spreading through him. He had discovered that he had no stomach for this sort of thing and he was glad that Welch had agreed that he should be left out of it. He would go to the cottage, but he would not kill the companion. It had occurred to him that he could act the hero’s part and let her go free. No one could prove that he had ever been involved in this affair. Arabella was sure to be grateful and she would probably offer to pay some of his debts—if Sir Courtney failed in his kidnap attempt. The more Ralph thought about it, the more certain he became that Arabella would not simply walk into their trap. His cousin was too clever to be so easily taken in. He was well out of the business. ‘Yes, I’ll ride with you, Welch—and I’ll deal with the companion for you. You get on with your own affair. I’ll not interfere.’
Their horses trotted out of the inn yard. For a few minutes they rode in silence until they came to the crossroads. Ralph reined in and turned to look at the other man.
‘I’ll leave you here, then,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll keep silent, Welch. No one shall hear of this from me.’
‘You are damned right they won’t,’ Sir Courtney said and drew his pistol. He aimed it directly at Ralph’s chest and fired, grinning as he saw the surprise in the other’s eyes. Ralph’s body jerked as the ball struck, and then, as his horse reared in fright, he was thrown from the back of the terrified beast, which went racing off, its reins hanging loosely. ‘Fool! Did you think I would trust you? Dead men don’t talk—that is a certainty.’
Sir Courtney scarcely wasted a glance at Ralph as he lay still where he had fallen. Digging his heels into his horse’s flanks, he set off at a furious pace. His men would be in place by now. They would not need his help to capture one female. He would watch from a safe distance. No one could know that he had masterminded the whole affair—the companion had seen only Tate’s face and he was dead. If the thing should go wrong, he would have plenty of time to escape and no one could prove that he had ever been involved.
‘You must stay here,’ Charles told Arabella. They were alone in her sitting room because he had again asked to speak to her in private. ‘Whatever you hear, do not leave the house this evening. We have set up a trap for them, but you must not become involved.’
‘But if I do not go, they may kill Tilda…’
‘Someone will take your place,’ Charles told her. He drew her to the window, standing behind the curtain so that they could see, but not be seen. ‘Look out, Arabella, and tell me what you see.’
At first Arabella could see nothing, for the darkness was falling fast, but then, caught in a sudden burst of moonlight as the clouds parted, she saw a woman crossing the lawns. A woman wearing a red dress and a paisley shawl over her head…and yet something puzzled her. She had never seen a woman walk quite that way before.
‘Who is it?’
‘John,’ Charles said and chuckled. ‘He makes an attractive lady, does he not? We drew straws for who should go and who should stay to guard you, and he won, Arabella. He said that I must take care of Sarah and you, and that it were best he be the one to take your place. However, our men are crawling all over the estate, and all of them armed. They have instructions to stay hidden until those rogues try to capture John. We need to catch them in the act, but I doubt that he will be in much danger.’
‘Charles!’ Arabella looked at him in astonishment. ‘Surely they will know he isn’t me?’
‘It is dark out there and will be more so by the time he reaches the summerhouse,’ Charles said. ‘With his head and face covered by the shawl, they are unlikely to realise until it is too late. He has his pistols and so have Tobbold’s men. And more of my men are at the cottage, intent on rescuing Tilda even as we speak. I do not think you need to fear for her.’
‘I pray that you are right,’ Arabella said, understanding his plans, which were clever and seemed to cover all eventualities. ‘Oh, this is terrible. I do not like to think that John is risking his life for me.’
‘It isn’t just for you,’ Charles said. ‘Haven’t you realised that he cares for Sarah deeply? He needs to do this because he can do nothing to help her.’
‘Yes, I see,’ Arabella said. ‘But I hope that he will not be killed. I should feel that it ought to have been me—and I think Sarah is beginning to like him very well.’
‘John will survive, I promise you,’ Charles said with an odd smile. ‘I wanted to go, but he would not have it. And perhaps it is harder to be the one that waits. I should have liked to be there. Sir Courtney would have rued the day he hatched this little plot with your cousin.’
‘What of Ralph?’ Arabella asked. ‘I know that he is as much to blame as Sir Courtney, but my aunt would be so distressed if she knew.’
‘We shall keep him out of it if we can,’ Charles said. ‘Tobbold knows of ways to dispose of tiresome rogues without putting a pistol to their head—and it may be best if Ralph were to just quietly disappear. A sea trip to the West Indies, perhaps?’
‘Oh, yes, that would be an excellent way to solve the problem,’ Arabella said. ‘Yes, that could not upset my aunt. If I told her that Ralph had decided to begin a new life in Jamaica, I think she would be quite pleased for him.’
‘Then we shall see what happens this evening,’ Charles said. ‘Now, go and join the others and play cards. Try to act as if nothing unusual was happening. We do not want to distress your aunt or my mama, do we?’
‘It is Sarah I
am most concerned for,’ Arabella told him. ‘She has been very quiet all day. I have asked her if something is wrong, but she just shakes her head and says that she is well enough.’
‘I dare say she is upset by all this,’ Charles agreed. ‘But she will be better again once Tilda is back and the rogues who planned this wretched affair have been dealt with as they deserve.’
‘Ralph is to be sent to the West Indies,’ Arabella said. ‘But what of Sir Courtney?’
‘That depends on whether or not we take him alive.’ Charles looked angry. ‘He deserves to hang, but I do not know whether it may be done. After all, we only have John’s word for what was said in the wood—and I know well enough that that is not sufficient to have him arrested.’
‘Then what…?’ She became aware of his grim determination. ‘Charles, you cannot! Please, you must not take the law into your own hands.’
‘We shall do what must be done,’ Charles said. ‘Until that man is either in prison or dead, you can never be safe again…’ He gave her a straight look. ‘Join your aunt and the others, Arabella. You may safely leave this to John and I…’
Chapter Nine
‘Is something happening?’ Lady Tate asked as Arabella joined them in the drawing room after leaving Charles. ‘Mrs Bristol told us that Mr Elworthy has gone out. She seemed amused about something, though she would not tell me why. And where is Charles this evening?’
‘I have just been talking to him,’ Arabella said. ‘There is nothing to worry about. Charles is just making sure everything is all right, and I dare say John will be back soon.’ She smiled reassuringly, though she sensed that neither her aunt nor Mrs Hunter accepted her words at face value. Everyone was a little uneasy. She could only pray that nothing terrible would happen to cause further distress. ‘Now, shall we play a hand of whist?’
