'Aye.. .that is.. .I don't rightly know if... Thing is, sir, I have to take ye through the streets an'.. .an' ye'll have to be in shackles.'
'What?' Ross barked. 'It's more than my place is worth, sir, to take ye wi'out. If ye was to escape—'
'I have no intention of trying to escape, gaoler. Where would I go? I have no horse, no clothes... I am a gentleman. I will give you my word that I shall not try to escape on the way to or from the provost's house. Will that content you?'
'If 'twere only me, sir, I'd take yer word like a shot, but it's the provost, ye see, sir, and—'
Ross calmly fastened the buttons on his coat. 'You have received a certain degree of.. .er.. .compensation from me in the matter of the letter you delivered to the provost, gaoler. It is possible that you may be able to render me similar services in the future. But only if you are prepared to treat me as a gentleman.'
'Weel...'
'And then, of course, there would be no need for me to mention our.. .understandings to the provost.'
'Aye. Ye're right, sir. There'll be no need for they shackles if I have yer word on it.'
Ross nodded solemnly.
'And anyways, I'll still have my pistol. If ye was to run, I'd have to shoot ye.' He grinned slyly, raising the huge old-fashioned pistol that had been hidden by the skirts of his coat.
Ross raised his eyebrows. 'I was rather hoping it was my hat you had there.' He ran the fingers of both hands through his unkempt hair. 'I am in no fit state to meet the provost, or any other gentleman. I don't suppose your wife has saved my hat as well as my coat?'
'Ye didn't have no hat when ye arrived, sir. Nor gloves, neither. Jist the coat, and what ye stood up in.'
Ross shrugged his shoulders. His hat was probably somewhere out by the Solway, half trampled into the mud. He ran his fingers through his hair one last time. 'Very well. That is the best I can do. Will you lead the way, gaoler?'
With a grin, the turnkey shook his head and stood aside to allow Ross
to pass out of the tiny cell. 'We'll jist walk along the gither, sir.' He lifted his pistol a fraction. 'Jist so as I can see ye.'
Ross grinned back and walked out towards the daylight that he had not seen for more than two whole days.
'Why is the prisoner not shackled?' Provost Scobie was a small round man, but he had drawn himself up to his full height to berate the gaoler.
'I have given my parole that I will not attempt to escape, sir,' said Ross calmly, before the gaoler could say a word.
The provost looked Ross up and down. His lip curled a fraction.
Ross took a deep breath. 'Allow me to introduce myself, sir. I am Captain Ross Graham, late of his Majesty's Fifty-second Regiment. A holder of the King's commission does not break his word.'
The provost recoiled half a step in the face of Ross's implacable stare. 'Ah, indeed, sir. Indeed. As you say. But the charges against ye, they are serious, very serious. I have read yer letter but.. .well, I can't see my way to... With James Elliott a witness against ye, there's nothing to be done until you come to trial.'
'And when will that be?' ; 'Well, that's difficult to say. It depends on the witnesses and—'
'This is a civilised country, Provost. You cannot just throw a man into gaol and leave him to rot. Habeas corpus demands that you bring me to trial or set me free.'
The provost cocked his head on one side and raised an eyebrow. 'Well, now, sir, that's just where ye are wrong. Habeas corpus is English law. The writ does not run on this side of the border. Even a fine gentleman like yerself may have to stay in the gaol until it should be convenient to bring him to trial.' He looked straight at the turnkey, who shuffled his feet a little, but said nothing. 'And on such a serious charge, the sheriff himself would need to preside...and he's not due to be in Dumfries for quite a wee while.' He stroked his jaw thoughtfully.
Provost Scobie was going out of his way to be unhelpful. Probably in Elliott's pocket. So Ross would have to find a way of helping himself.
'On such a serious charge, as you put it, Provost, a gentleman must be allowed to call on the services of his friends.' Ross glanced round the small bookroom and lighted on a kneehole desk piled high with files and papers. The provost was not a tidy worker, it seemed. 'You will permit me to write a letter, I take it?' Without giving the man time to reply, Ross sat down at the desk, pushed the papers into a precarious heap, and began to write on a sheet of the provost's expensive paper.
'I...well, I... Sir, you have no—' The provost paused to collect himself.
Ignoring him, Ross continued to write swiftly. 'Sir, prisoners are not permitted private correspondence. This is most irregular. I—'
'You are welcome to read my letter before I seal it, sir,' Ross said equably, without lifting his head. He needed to send only a very short note. His friend, Max, as a member of the House of Lords, was bound to be acquainted with some of Scotland's nobility. Provost Scobie was the kind of man who would take heed of an earl or a duke before any mere laird.
Ross sanded and folded his letter but did not seal it. Then he addressed it to Max's London home. He would still be there. Probably.
Provost Scobie came to stand by Ross's chair. 'The letter, if you please.' He held out his hand.
Ross calmly unfolded the sheet and gave it to him. The provost read it through quickly, glanced suspiciously at Ross, and then read the letter again. He frowned. And he was beginning to look a little worried, too. Good.
'It is a very straightforward letter, as you see, sir. I have asked my friend to find some persons of standing—Scotsmen—who may intercede on my behalf. You cannot object to that, I dare say?'
'Er.. .no. No, I suppose not. But who is to say that your friend, er—' he looked again at the letter'—your friend, Max, can persuade a Scottish gentleman of standing to perform such a service for you?' He was looking down his nose at Ross as he spoke.
Ross twitched the sheet out of the provost's hand and rose to his feet so that the little man had to look up at him instead. 'I can rely on my friend,' he said with a smile, turning the sheet over and putting it almost under the provost's nose. There, in Ross's firm hand, was the address: The Rt. Hon. the Earl of Penrose.
The provost goggled and began to stammer something unintelligible.
'Provost Scobie.' The door had opened at the provost's back to admit an ancient manservant. 'The colonel has arrived, sir. Shall I show him into the parlour, or—?'
The provost turned to the door with obvious relief. 'No, indeed. I'll come myself this minute.' Without sparing even a glance for Ross, the provost scuttled out into the hallway. The servant closed the door behind him.
'Sorry, sir,' said the gaoler with a hint of an apologetic smile. 'Looks like I'll be taking ye back.'
Ross swallowed an oath. He was not beaten yet. The provost had clearly thought his prisoner was a nobody. Now that he'd discovered Ross had high-ranking connections, the little man would be racking his brains for a way of placating both Ross and the Elliott laird. He was playing for time. But he would not be given it.
Ross strode across to the door and flung it open.
The provost was bowing to a tall, dignified man who was just on the point of handing his hat and cane to the servant. Grimly, Ross clenched his jaw and waited for the right moment to intervene. The visitor was clearly a gentleman.
'My apologies, Colonel, for keeping you waiting.' The provost bowed again to his visitor. 'Legal business, you understand, with this.. .er.. .this prisoner.' He indicated Ross with a vague hand gesture. The look that accompanied it held more than a hint of uncertainty. 'If you would like to come into the parlour, I have a very fine Madeira that I should—'
'A moment, Provost,' said the colonel sharply. 'Perhaps you would be good enough to explain what the devil is going on here? This is Captain Graham, is it not? I must ask you to explain why you have this gentleman in custody.'
Ross frowned in surprise. This colonel knew him. But how? Ross scrutinised t
he unknown officer carefully, but could not place him. There was something vaguely familiar about the man, but that was all. And yet—
Seeing Ross's uncertainty, the colonel stepped forward and offered his hand. 'You won't remember me, Captain Graham. I'm Colonel Anstruther. I was invalided home after Badajoz. We did not run across each other much in the Peninsula. But I remember you well enough. General Picton spoke very highly of you.'
The two men shook hands, totally ignoring the provost and the hovering gaoler. 'Thank you, sir,' Ross said. 'It was an honour to serve with him. You know, I suppose, that he fell at Waterloo?'
'Aye. I heard. A sad loss.' He shook his head regretfully.
The silence was broken by the provost. 'Colonel,' he began, stepping forward, 'if you—'
'You have not told me why this officer is being held, Provost.'
'I.. .er...' The provost had turned very red. 'Well, Colonel, he is facing a very serious charge. Abduction. Brought by James Elliott, the victim's brother. I would not have confined the captain, you understand, but Elliott insisted. Said he was bound to try to escape. And that he was dangerous, too. Much as I'd be minded to—' he smiled weakly at Ross '—I cannot just release him.'
Ross ignored the provost completely. 'Colonel,' he said warmly, 'I cannot tell you how grateful I am to have someone to speak on my behalf. In a country with no habeas corpus, it seems I can simply be left to rot and—'
'Nonsense. Who told you that?'
'I—'
'I told the Captain we have no habeas corpus, Colonel,' interrupted the provost. 'And it's true enough, as you know. I was just about to tell him about the Scots law equivalent when you arrived, so he may have misunderstood the situation. Scotland is a civilised country, Captain. Prisoners are not left to rot here, any more than in England.'
'And now that I am prepared to vouch for Captain Graham, there need be no delay about releasing him, Provost. The Captain will give you his parole and you will release him into my custody.'
The provost hesitated. He was shuffling his feet nervously. 'James Elliott insisted—'
'James Elliott may be assured that Captain Graham will make no attempt to escape. Unless you doubt my word in this, Provost?'
The provost almost cowered before the colonel's ferocious frown. Rubbing his hands together in his agitation, the little man looked from the colonel to Ross and back again. There was no hint of weakness in either of them. 'I must know where the prisoner is to be found, sir,' he said lamely.
'I shall be in residence here in Dumfries for some weeks now. Captain Graham will be my guest. You may rest assured that I shall not take him out of your jurisdiction.' The colonel turned to Ross and smiled. 'If you are ready, sir, I will take you to my house now. My business with the provost can wait. It was not really important.' He ignored the provost's sharp intake of breath and turned for the door.
'A moment, Colonel, if you please,' Ross said quickly. 'While I will certainly give my parole to the provost, I cannot possibly accept your generous offer of hospitality when I am in such a dreadful state. I am not fit to enter a gentleman's house. And I do not even have a change of clothes.' He looked down at his filthy breeches and boots, and his shrunken coat. He had not been able to wash for the best part of three days and he had been lying on rotting straw in a stinking gaol. He must smell like something dredged from the quicksands of the Solway. 'Provost, what has become of my mare and my travelling baggage?'
The provost would not meet Ross's eye. 'Your horse is stabled at the George. There'll be livery to pay. There was no baggage as I'm aware of. Just a horse and a greatcoat. And ye've found that, I see,' he added sarcastically.
The colonel paid no heed at all. He himself opened the street door, without waiting for the servant. 'Don't worry, Graham. Your baggage will turn up, I'm sure. And in the meantime, I imagine you would welcome a hot bath and a good meal.'
'Well, yes, sir, but—'
'Good. Then come along. It's but a step to my house. My wife will be delighted to meet you.'
Ross grimaced at the embarrassing prospect, but stepped forward to join the colonel on the threshold.
'On second thoughts,' said the colonel with a small, wry smile, 'I might delay the introductions until after you've had a chance to make yourself a little more...er...presentable.'
In the circumstances, Ross found himself grinning at the older man's gentle jibe. The poor colonel had obviously just had a lungful of gaol odours.
'I'll send a man to see Elliott, to find out what happened to your baggage,' the colonel went on, as soon as they reached the street. 'I imagine there must have been a mistake of some kind.'
Ross nodded automatically, as politeness demanded. But he knew very well that there had been no mistake. The Elliott laird had meant him to be left to rot.
Colonel Anstruther looked his guest slowly up and down. 'It's something of an improvement, Graham,' he said at last, 'though the fit of that coat is...er...'
Ross grinned at his host. 'Your coat may not fit me very well, sir, but since my own is filthy, I make no complaint. Believe me, it is a blessing to be clean again. I owe you a debt for rescuing me from that stinking gaol.'
'Nonsense, nonsense. Any gentleman would have done the same. And if we can't find your own baggage, I'm sure we'll be able to find some better-fitting clothes in Dumfries. We can do that tomorrow morning. It's too late to do anything today, I fear.'
Ross nodded. At least he would not be beholden to the colonel for new clothes. He had money enough to buy his own.
'One thing I...I must say to you, Graham, before I introduce you to my wife.' The colonel pursed his lips and put his hand to his chin. 'I must tell you that she is not in good health. She has a...a wasting disease. When you meet her, you will see. I must warn you that she will not speak of it, not to anyone. I ask you to treat her as if she were a normal healthy woman, and to ignore the fact that she can no longer walk.'
Ross took a step forward and reached out a hand, helplessly. 'Sir, I should not be here. You—'
The colonel smiled rather tightly. 'My wife would not have it otherwise, Captain. She is very much looking forward to making your acquaintance. No doubt she will quiz you about our adventures in the Peninsula.'
'I shall be of little help to Mrs Anstruther, I fear,' Ross admitted. 'To be frank, sir, I barely remember meeting you there. As for adventures.. .there is very little fit for a lady's ears.'
'Very true,' smiled the colonel. 'I would not have my wife learn of some of the things we had to do. On the other hand, while I would not encourage you to make things up, Graham, you might—'
'I shall do my best to keep Mrs Anstruther entertained, sir. It is the least I can do.'
'Thank you.' The colonel was silent for a moment, as if considering. Then he said quietly, 'When I left for the Peninsula, there was no sign that anything was amiss. Her disease began while I was away, and she never said a word in any of her letters. Even when I had recovered from my wounds and was back at Horse Guards, she managed to conceal it from me. When I finally came home for good last year, I could barely recognise her. The bonnie lass I'd married was almost a wraith. Then, she could still walk. Since the spring, she cannot. She must keep her chair and be carried everywhere. You will see that she weighs no more than a feather now. Each night, when I carry her upstairs, I can feel that she is wasting away before my eyes.'
Ross could find no words to convey his sympathy.
The colonel shook his head, as if trying to shake off his moment of melancholy. 'I tell you this so that you will not be shocked when you meet my wife, Graham. That is all. But she is all good humour. She never complains. You will soon discover that she is fully absorbed in her latest project, to finish our new house and garden in the country. And if you don't take care, she will no doubt be enlisting your help for some part of her plans. It can be difficult to deny her, I warn you.'
'If I can repay your kindness by serving Mrs Anstruther, I should be delighted to
do it. Pray tell her that I am quite at her service.'
'Now that,' said a female voice behind Ross, 'is a very rash promise for a gentleman to make. Just think what I might require you to do!'
The colonel laughed down at his wife in her wheeled chair. 'Allow me to present Captain Graham, my dear. I did try to warn him of the risks he was running,' he added, 'but he would have none of it. So it appears you have acquired another willing cavalier.'
Ross stepped forward and bowed over Mrs Anstruther's outstretched hand, feeling how tiny it was, and how thin. The colonel's wife must have been very beautiful once. Now she was indeed like a wraith. A shadow of what she had been.
The following morning, James Elliott presented himself at Colonel Anstruther's door. Carrying Ross's bags.
Standing black-browed in the library doorway, Elliott bowed in the colonel's direction and said, 'I have come to return Captain Graham's baggage and pistols, and to apologise for bringing the charge against him. It has been withdrawn, as the provost will confirm. I jumped to an unwarranted conclusion, I admit, but if you had known the circumstances, and my sister's— Well, no point in going into that.' He bowed slightly to Ross. 'My sister has explained what took place, Captain Graham, and I have come to beg your pardon. My sister also begs to send you her thanks for rescuing her. She hopes that you have suffered no lasting hurt from your ordeal in...in Dumfries.'
Clever, Ross thought. By introducing his sister, he seeks to divert my righteous anger. And, as a gentleman, I have no choice but to acquiesce, especially here in Colonel Anstruther's home. 'Pray thank Miss Elliott for her kind enquiry. You may assure her that I am quite well, thanks to the Colonel's intervention. I see you have managed to discover my missing bags. How remarkably fortunate. The provost assured me that there was no trace of them.'
'A misunderstanding, I assure you, sir. Your luggage was conveyed to the stable, along with your mare. Both were well taken care of. And of course there is no livery to pay. I have seen to that.'
'You are all generosity, Elliott,' the colonel said, with some asperity.
Bride of the Solway Page 4
