by Anne Ireland
He wished that he had a pistol but knew that in the absence of such a weapon, he must improvise. He could not go storming in but perhaps stealth would serve. The men who had captured Hester must sleep eventually. They would think themselves safe enough. If he waited for an hour or so longer, it might be possible to sneak in and snatch Hester from beneath their noses. Yet, if they killed him, Hester might never be recovered.
He had left messages for Crawford at various inns and a forge that he had stopped at along the way. If he guessed right, the gallant Captain Crawford would not be far behind. Tempted as he was to rescue Hester himself, Richard hesitated. In this instance, her safety was everything.
He had had wild thoughts of abducting her himself, but he wanted only to persuade her to marry him. These men were very different and had murdered before, if his guess was right. For once in his life, Richard decided to do what was best for someone else rather than himself. He owed it to Hester to give her the best chance of escape. Rather than blundering in alone, he would ride back the way he had come and look for Crawford. He was bound to be armed, and together they would have a better chance of rescuing Hester. Afterwards, it would be a matter of each man for himself.
* * * *
Paul had followed his instincts, believing that the men who had abducted Hester would have taken the London road, rather than try to escape through the narrow cross-country lanes that led eastwards. He knew that there was no sense in riding hell for leather, stopping at the first village he had come to inquire if a carriage had been seen travelling at speed.
He was told that a carriage had passed that way an hour or so earlier and that the coachman had been driving his horses hard. Paul thought that would probably mean they would have to change horses at a hostelry if they planned to travel far. They would need to stop soon—unless their destination was somewhere on the road. His fear was that they would turn off down a country lane and that he would miss them. Therefore, he must take the time to inquire at frequent intervals along the road and be prepared to turn back and explore other avenues if he lost them.
The frustration of not knowing if he was heading in the right direction was hard to bear, but Paul had nothing to help him. His mouth settled into a thin line of anger. Somehow he would find Hester! If it took him weeks or months, he would find her and take her home.
He rode throughout the night, stopping only at a hostelry to change his horse for a fresh mount. It was there that he received news that heartened him, for his questions met with answers that confirmed it.
“Aye, sir, ’tis strange that you ask. A man left his horse here and hired another from us. He paid me a guinea to pass a message on to a Captain Crawford—would you be he, sir?”
“Yes, I am Crawford.” Paul took a gold coin from his pocket. “How long since he was here?”
“Be about two hours since, sir. He said to tell you to keep following the London road and that he would leave word where he could.”
Paul thanked him and rode on. He had made good time and with any luck would catch up with Mortimer before morning. He had feared he might have missed them, taken the wrong road from the start, but it seemed his instincts had served him well. Mortimer was leaving word for him as he went and that was a great help. It seemed that Paul had seriously misjudged him and that meant he was dealing with an unknown enemy, a man who would stop at nothing to gain his own way.
* * * *
Hester fell asleep after her candle went out. She had decided that there was no sense in pacing the room endlessly. Her chance for escape would only come if her captors grew careless, and for that, she must be patient.
When she awoke and heard the sound of a key turning in the lock of her room, she pulled the bedcovers up around her and closed her eyes. Let them believe she was still sleeping and perhaps her chance would come.
It was still dark and whoever had entered the room was carrying a branch of lighted candles. As they approached the bed and bent towards her, she could feel the heat of the flames against her cheek. It took all her strength of mind to stop herself opening her eyes, especially when she heard a man curse softly.
“Damned fools!” he muttered. “You’ve taken the wrong one.”
“She was riding with Crawford and he seemed mighty fond of her, sir.”
“You may be right. Yes, a man might risk anything for the woman he loves. Well, we have Hester, and she’ll be bait for our little trap. Crawford will already be on his way. Keep alert, John. You know what I want.”
“You want him dead, but he’s a tricky customer, sir. It won’t be easy, for he’s bound to be armed.”
“You may leave that pleasure to me. He has meddled in my affairs too long.”
“And what of her?”
“She is to be treated well. If she behaves I may let her go when we have what we want.”
“Yes, sir. It would play on my conscience if she came to harm, sir.”
“You’ll do as you’re bid or I might decided to dispense with your services.”
“You know I wouldn’t betray you, sir.”
They were moving away from the bed. Hester risked opening her eyes in time to see them go out. Her heart was racing wildly, her mind whirling in confusion. Could her senses have told her truly? Surely she must be mistaken! She had seemed to know the owner of that voice, but it could not be. She eased up into a sitting position, hunching her knees to her chest as she recalled the men’s conversation.
It seemed that her life might hang in the balance, but one thing was very clear—the man who had ordered her capture intended to kill Paul.
No! It must not happen. Somehow she must escape before Paul could arrive. His enemy was a very dangerous man—a man she was almost certain she knew well.
In her own mind, she had suspected that Richard Mortimer was behind this wretched business. She and Geraldine had both believed that he had sent those letters and also that he had tried to abduct the girl. Her memory of that fateful day when he had forcefully seduced her had painted him in the colors of a villain. However, she was now fairly certain that he was not the culprit in this case.
Hester sat watching as the light began to creep into the room. She must at least try to escape, and subterfuge might help, if the man who brought her food thought that she was still sleeping. She got up and arranged the bed to look as if a figure was huddled under the covers, and then perched on the edge. When she heard the key in the lock, she got to her feet hastily and went over to the door, standing where she would be hidden behind it as it opened into the room. She seized a heavy candlestick just in case, though she would not use it unless she was forced.
A man came in carrying a tray. She was glad that it was not John, who had been kind to her. He walked over to the bed, setting his burden down on the cabinet beside it.
“Are you awake, miss?”
Hester moved swiftly. She was out of the door before he realized that it was only the bolster in the bed. Even as he gave a shout of alarm, she was locking the door behind her. She slipped the key into the bodice of her gown and clutched her weapon tightly. If need be she would fight but she must try to hide from her captors. The man she had locked in was beginning to shout and bang on the door, which meant that at any moment the others might come charging up the stairs to investigate.
It would not be wise to use the main stairs but perhaps the landing would take her to another entrance. She ran swiftly to the other end, wrenching wide the door there and finding that, as she had hoped, it opened onto a steep, narrow staircase habitually used by the kitchen servants. She closed it behind her even as the sound of pounding footsteps warned her that the others were arriving. Thankfully, the locked door would keep them guessing for a few moments.
Once the door was closed behind her, it was quite dark on the stairs, and Hester was forced to feel her way down to the bottom, where yet another door opened on to what were obviously the family bedrooms. Here there was plenty of light and she fled along the landing and down a short flight of
steps to the next floor. She could hear a commotion above her and hesitated before running down the main staircase to the hall below. Hearing a door open nearby, Hester went into a small parlor to her right, just as a man came out into the hall and, giving a shout, began to run up the stairs.
Hester looked about her. She was in a small but well furnished parlor, and she could see a pair of French windows that led out onto a terrace. Praying that they would not be locked, she ran towards them and found that although they were locked, a key had been carelessly left on an occasional table near by. She inserted the small key, her heart beating wildly as she wondered if it would fit and murmuring a prayer of thanks as she discovered that it turned easily. In another moment, she was out of the door and running along the terrace. She fled down the steps and across the lawn to the shrubbery. If she was seen from the house, they would come after her and she could not get far before being recaptured.
“Hester! Thank God!”
Even as she heard the cry, a man came towards her from the shelter of an overgrown rose arbor. She smothered the scream that rose to her lips, giving a little sob of relief as she saw that it was Paul. Behind him, looking slightly awkward was Richard Mortimer. She had believed the two men enemies and was bewildered when Paul said, “Go with Richard, Hester. You may trust him to look after you until I come.”
“But you . . .” She realized that he meant to go into the house after the rogues who had kidnapped her. “You must not, Paul! It is just what they want. He wants you dead. I heard him say he would kill you. It was the reason I was taken, except that they thought I was Geraldine . . .”
“They cannot be allowed to get away with this,” Paul said looking grim. “If they are not stopped, they may try again, and next time we may not be so lucky.”
“Please let us go now,” Hester said. “I could not bear to be the cause of your death.”
“Hester is right,” Richard said. “You take her home, Crawford. She will feel better with you, I daresay. I shall stay here and watch. If I see the man that paid me for selling you those cannon I shall know him. Who knows, he may lead me to the man behind all this.”
“I think I may know . . .” She hesitated as they both stared at her. “I did not see him for I dare not open my eyes when they came to my room in the dark—but I knew the voice, and I believe it was Henry Blackwater.”
“Good grief!” Richard exclaimed. “You must be mistaken surely?”
“Yes, perhaps—but it sounded like him, though I admit I did not see his face. He thought I was asleep and spoke more openly than he would otherwise have done.”
“Keep watch here,” Paul said, making up his mind. “You have the pistol I gave you if you need it, Mortimer. Use it to good effect if you must, but try to watch and see what happens and where they go. I would see this rogue hang for his crimes, which are many. Whoever he is . . .” He took Hester’s arm. “You will have to ride with me until we can buy fresh horses. “Come to me when you leave here, Mortimer. We have things to discuss.”
Richard nodded, his gaze on Hester’s face. “Take care of her, Crawford. Her safety comes first in all this.”
Such a look accompanied his words that Hester was shocked. For a moment, she had seen the young Richard Mortimer—a man she had loved with her innocent heart. But he had broken her heart and left her to face the consequences alone.
“Come, Hester,” Paul said leading her through the shrubbery to a small iron gate in the wall that enclosed the estate. Outside the gate, two horses were tethered. Paul untied one and then took Hester’s hand. He drew her forward, gazing down at her for a moment before placing his hands about her waist. She was conscious of some strong emotion in him.
“I was afraid we might be too late,” he said and then swept her up to the saddle. Mounting behind her, he put his arms about her, holding her pressed against him. “I think I should not have wanted to live if you were dead.”
Hester trembled but his arms held her tightly. She felt safe and protected as he urged his horse to a canter and then faster and faster until the countryside seemed to be flying past. Neither of them spoke until they reached the inn where Paul hired a horse for Hester. She felt bereft when his arms were no longer about her, but knew that they would travel faster this way.
“You will soon be home, Hester,” Paul said and she knew as she stood gazing into his eyes for a moment that he was going to kiss her. “You have been so brave, my darling. Almost any other woman I know would have wept, but you have not blamed me for bringing this trouble upon you.”
“Why should I blame you?” She felt as if she were drowning in the sky blue of his eyes, drifting on clouds. “It was not your fault.”
“My sweet Hester.” He bent his head, his lips soft on hers as he gathered her to him with a little shudder, holding her so tenderly against his heart. Then he drew back and looked at her. “I was so fearful of what they might do to you. Richard was for storming the house, and we had talked of the best way to rescue you, and then there you were, running towards us.”
“I did not want them to succeed in their plan to kill you. They expected you to come after me, and they were waiting for you.” She described how she had duped her captors with the bolster and he smiled. “It was so simple. I think they must have thought me sufficiently cowed not to dare to try and escape.”
Paul’s arms tightened about her, a shudder running through him as he thought what might have happened if Hester had been caught in the attempt. She might have been killed, shot in the back—as someone had already tried to shoot him.
“We must lose no time, my love, for they may try to follow us. Mortimer will watch if he is able, and perhaps we may learn more of this enemy. I had thought it a simple case of fraud and treachery, but it becomes more complicated, and I begin to wonder what lies behind all this trickery.”
“How did you come to be with Richard Mortimer? I believed you thought he was the man responsible for those faulty cannon?”
“He was but the go-between. I have learned that from his own lips, and this time I believe him, for he has done much to help me. It was due to Mortimer that I was able to find you. He saw your abduction but was too far away to help. However, he sent Geraldine to warn me and followed their carriage. Then he left messages for me, and once he knew where they were holding you, he came back to find me. He could not act alone, because he was unarmed. I had brought my pistols and I gave him one. We were on the verge of storming the house when we saw you come out.”
“That was well done of him,” Hester said looking thoughtful. “I had not thought him so unselfish.”
“He would have come in after you sooner but had no weapon and feared that if he were killed you might never be found alive.”
“It seems that I owe him some gratitude.”
“Indeed.” Paul frowned. “And I an apology, for I have wronged him. I thought him a cheat and a traitor, but it seems he has been duped as much as I in the matter of those cannon, and is just as keen to unmask the traitor.”
Hester was thoughtful as he helped her to mount her own horse. She had been used to thinking of Richard Mortimer as the man who had betrayed and shamed her, and it was strange to know that he had done so much to help her. In her experience, he was unlike to bother over the welfare of others.
The last few hours had turned her world upside down, but for the moment she must think only of keeping pace with Paul’s horse. If they were pursued it might lead to bloodshed, and she did not want to see him lying dead at her feet.
* * * *
It was mid afternoon when they arrived at their destination, which Hester discovered to her surprise, was the beautiful and very large home of the Marquis of Longstanton and his family.
“Are we not returning to Geraldine’s home?”
“I shall feel safer if you are here for the moment,” Paul told her. “Besides, my mother bade me bring you safely home to her. I believe she wants to take you under her wing, dearest.” His smile was a caress that set
her heart racing, and her hand trembled as he took it in his one. “You must not deny me, Hester. The time for pretence is over. You know that I want you for my own. Your place is here with us, where we can take proper care of you. Come and meet my mother, dearest.”
“But . . .” A protest trembled on Hester’s lips. She knew that she ought to confess her shameful secret, but how could she? Paul’s loving gaze was upon her, his look a caress that made it impossible for her to tell him the painful truth. She was not fit to be his bride, but perhaps she need not tell him just yet. It would be too hurtful to see him turn from her in disgust. She would find the way in the end, but not yet. Her abduction and rescue had left her feeling vulnerable. Another day she would be strong enough to tell him that they could not marry.
He was drawing her towards the house and even as they mounted the steps leading to the terrace, a lady dressed in a floating gown of soft blue came hurrying out to meet them. She was, Hester thought, very beautiful, her face soft with love as she looked at her son and then at Hester. She was wearing a lace cap from which hair the color of flame had escaped in several places to curl about her face and neck, and she dropped her shawl as she came to throw her arms about them.
“Oh, my dears,” she cried kissing Paul and then Hester with equal warmth. “How glad I am to see you both safely back. Lord Longstanton said it would be so, but I have been fretting all morning, and I hardly slept last night.” She cast an anxious look at her son and then turned to Hester. “My poor love, what a wretched time you must have had. You are not to worry about a thing. I am going to take you upstairs and you shall rest for a while. You must be exhausted.”
