Benedict's Bride

by Janet Woods

  Tom grinned. ‘I’ll fetch the beast.’

  ‘No, you keep an eye on him while I collect it. I know what his two companions look like, they might still be around. They must have missed him by now. I’ll need to know who to inform if he dies. I’ll be back in half an hour, then you can get home to Meg and the kids. She’ll be wondering where you are.’

  Matt found the horse still patiently standing where it had been tethered. The inn was almost empty except for a couple of drunks hunched over a brandy bottle in the corner. Of the two men there was no sign. ‘They left an hour ago,’ the publican told him. ‘The shorter of the pair, ran out of money. He was in a sour mood.’

  ‘What about the third man? Did you see him leave?’

  ‘No. The other one asked everyone in the bar if they’d seen their companion. No one had. Then he said the fellow must had gone looking for a woman, and he hoped everyone had their wives locked up. That made them laugh, I can tell you, since the few left in the bar were mostly seaman, and we all know they have wives and daughters in every port.’

  When he burst into raucous laughter Matt joined in.

  ‘He left a large tip for the serving maid, bought everyone a pot of ale and said to tell their companion they’d gone back to Bridport if he turned up. He wasn’t exactly a friendly chap before, so it seemed like an odd thing for him to do.’ He jerked his thumb towards the door. ‘His companion’s horse is still tied up outside so he must be making a night of it with Sally Bowers’ girls.’

  ‘Their companion turned up in the harbor,’ Matt said. ‘He’s got broken bones but should survive. I was hoping to find out something about him, in case I have to inform his next of kin.’

  The publican swiped a cloth through a puddle of spilled ale. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time someone fell into the harbor.’ The cloth suddenly stopped its movement and his eyes sharpened. ‘One of the men said he was Lord Hartford. Not that he acted like a lord, but then we don’t get many gentlemen in here to compare him to.’

  Hartford? As he left the inn Matt remembered a young woman with large eyes and many bruises, and he doubted if the name was a coincidence. He might drop in on Hartford House and see if he could sniff out what was going on.

  The young man’s horse was a handsome gelding who behaved perfectly, even with a stranger riding on his back. ‘You ride him home,’ he said to Tom. ‘I reckon I’ll be going to Bridport in the morning to look for the acquaintances of our invalid, and to let them know he’s all right. Ask Meg to come over and keep an eye on Carlton in case the infirmary cart turns up.

  But there was more to this affair, Matt felt it in his bones. He set out early next morning, but when he reached Hartford House there was no sign of the men. His rap at the door was answered by a middle-aged woman who said she was Mrs. Phelps, the housekeeper.

  ‘I haven’t seen hide nor hair of Lord Hartford and his two friends since yesterday. The reverend’s wife dropped in this morning. She reckons that Hartford house has been sold, and she wondered if I knew who’d bought it. She said I’ll lose my position, and that Lord Hartford has run up bills everywhere. I don’t know whether to come in every morning to housekeep, or not.’

  ‘I shouldn’t worry too much, Mrs. Phelps. I expect the new owner will be here soon. He’ll need staff, and you’ll be in a good position to be employed. I don’t suppose you know where Lord Hartford has gone?’

  ‘He said something about going to a wedding, then the two of them exchanged a laugh as though it was funny. The third man didn’t seem too happy about it. You could see it in his eyes.’ She ventured to say, ‘I thought perhaps it was his wedding, one of those hurried affairs. But he wasn’t dressed for a wedding. Fact be, he was dusty from the road and they went out shortly afterwards. Haven’t seen them since.’

  After further questioning, and on being satisfied he’d learned all she knew, Matt bid her good day and headed back towards Poole, mulling over all the bits of information accumulating in his head.

  He kept thinking of the girl. Unease filled him as the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place, in a very disturbing manner.

  Meg was sitting at the kitchen table when Tom got home.

  ‘Is everything all right?’

  ‘Aye. Yon Jonas Carlton asked for some paper and ink. He wrote a letter and then asked for some wax to seal it with. He wants it sent as soon as possible ... said the person it was sent to would pay the messenger if it was presented with his watch.’

  Curious, Tom went through to the bedroom. The young man looked agitated when he saw him with the letter. ‘It’s imperative that gets to my uncle today.’

  ‘I’ll send it off with the normal messenger, but it won’t get to London today, Mr. Carlton.’ He glanced down at the letter. ‘Is this Baron a relative of yours?’

  ‘My uncle. I’m his heir.’

  ‘I see.’ He smiled gently at the man. ‘There’s skullduggery afoot. I think you’d better tell me what’s going on. If it’s what I think it is there will be heavy penalties to pay if that young woman, Miss Hartford is harmed in any way.’

  ‘I know,’ Jonas said, his frustration showing in his face. ‘I was going to try and put a stop to it but he ... Stephen Gould began to suspect –’

  ‘And he banged you over the head and threw you into the harbor to drown.’ That’s why the man had made a show of concern for his friend in the inn. It had been a ruse to disassociate himself from the crime if Carlton’s body was discovered.

  ‘I think it was him. I remember smelling the peppermint he sucks.’

  ‘And Hartford ... is he in on it?’

  ‘I doubt if Patrick would be a party to killing me, though he might have been talked into taking part in the abduction, especially if he lost money gambling. Stephen has a plausible tongue, and Patrick owes him a lot of money.’

  Matt’s eyes sharpened. ‘What abduction is that you’re referring too?’

  ‘Miss Hartford’s. She’s come into a fortune. At first Stephen wanted to kill her so Patrick would inherit. Then when Patrick refused, Stephen came up with the idea of holding her to ransom. That’s why I left the inn early. I’d intended to travel to Hampshire to warn the Earl of Laconbridge, for his son, Lord Costain is to wed Miss Hartford tomorrow.’

  Matt glanced at his watch and stood. Already it was gone noon. ‘I must go and warn them. Megs will look after you until the infirmary sends the cart. I’ll make sure your letter to your uncle gets to its destination. There is a bag of official mail going to London by boat. He should get it early next morning.’

  ‘Will I get into trouble?’

  ‘If anything happens to Miss Hartford and the matter goes before a magistrate you’ll be expected to appear as a witness. Then it will depend on your credibility. Gould may have done you a favor by pushing you into the harbor. I hope I can get to the young lady in time.’

  ‘Take my horse, he’s fast and sound of wind,’ Jonas said, wincing with pain as he tried to turn over.

  ‘Thank you, I will. Be polite to my sister, Meg, or it’ll be the worst for you.’

  ‘Yes, sir. I’m appreciative of her care, and mindful of her sharp tongue.’

  Matt grinned. When he reached the door he tapped the letter against his hand. ‘Do you think this relative will come to your aid?’

  ‘I hope so, but I wouldn’t blame him if he turned his back on me.’

  ‘If I wrote a letter to try to convince him that you’re a reformed character, would that be the truth, then?’

  Jonas nodded. ‘I can safely say I’ve learned my lesson, sir.’

  Matt smiled. He had no time for lawbreakers, and there was none more upright than a man who’d learned from his mistakes.

  A couple of hours later Matthew realised that the young man had been right. His horse was fast. It covered the ground in a long-legged canter that not only looked graceful, but gave him a smooth ride. Used to the sturdy mounts provided for the revenue, Matt felt like a prince astride this thoroughbred.


  It was a fair day with the smell of early autumn in the air, as though a faint aroma of disturbed and decayed leaves was released as the horse stirred up the undergrowth. Matt kept a lookout for Lord Hartford and Stephen Gould, but the road was light of other travelers.

  ‘Have two strangers been through here today?’ he asked the keeper of the inn, and described them.

  ‘Not today, sir. It’s been quiet. Yesterday people were coming and going all day ... most of them strangers.’

  ‘What about last night, late?’

  ‘The doors are locked from midnight, and the guests were in bed. There were a couple of merchants travelling with a cart from Southampton. They hired a room. It’s not safe to travel at night without outriders. Did you want something to eat, sir? Our Maisie has just cooked a batch of lamb pies and they go down well with a pot of ale.’

  Matt nodded as his stomach growled. He’d been a long time without food.

  ‘Maisie!’ the innkeeper yelled a couple of times.

  Eventually a plump woman put in an appearance, her arms full of bedding. ‘What are you yelling about?’

  ‘Where’s, Maisie?’

  ‘She went off on the back of the donkey a few minutes since. I reckon she’s gone off to meet that sweetheart of hers. You should keep a better eye on that daughter of yours. She’s only sixteen and is already too free with the men who come in here. I told her it was no way to catch a husband, and I reckon that puss will get herself into trouble one of these days.’

  ‘Damned girl, I’ll smack her arse for her when she comes back,’ he grumbled. ‘Bring the gentleman a couple of pies, please Aggie. Is there anything else you’d like, sir?’

  ‘Yes, directions to the Earl of Laconbridge’s residence.’

  ‘Here for the wedding, are you, sir? I hear that the earl is going to escort the bride to the church personally.’

  ‘No ... I have other business.’ Biting into the pie Matt sighed with bliss as the rich gravy flavors burst against his tongue. ‘Your daughter’s a good cook.’

  ‘That she is, sir. But she’s a wild one. Aggie’s right, she’ll get herself into trouble one of these days. Now, as for Laconbridge House, I reckon the shortest way is across the heath and the track through the forest.

  Matt enjoyed his meal then set out on his way again. To his left the heathlands were a blaze of purple heather, beyond was the dense, dark line of the forest, faintly intimidating because the shadows were lengthening.

  As he neared the tree line he passed a girl astride a pony. She was coming in from the opposite direction. She was a pretty thing who smiled at him and said, ‘Good afternoon, sir.’

  ‘Good day, Maisie?’ he said.

  Her smile widened. ‘How did you know my name, sir?’

  ‘I’ve just eaten a couple of your pies, they were very good.’

  She slanted her eyes at him. ‘My pies always be good. You can eat them any time, as long as you pay well for them.’

  She was too pert for one so young. ‘Best you watch your mouth, girl, lest you give a man the wrong idea. Get off home, your pa’s looking for you.’

  She went bright red and muttered, ‘A lot you know about anything, mister,’ Then she dug her heels into her donkey’s rump and picked up speed.

  The forest was quiet, dim and cool. It had a relaxing effect on Matt, who was beginning to feel less alert this late into the day.

  To his right a twig cracked. He brought the horse to a halt and listened. All was silent expect the flutter of leaves in the breeze and the beat of a pulse inside his ear.

  He started off again at a faster pace, then heard a horse behind him. He was reaching for his pistol when the ball hit him in the back a moment before he heard the report of it. He slid from the horse’s back and rolled down a slope into a ditch, landing in a patch of mud.

  Footsteps followed him down and he tried not to go tense or scream out when a brown-booted foot struck him in the side. It hurt like hell, especially when he tried not to breathe in case the movement of his chest gave him away.

  ‘Straight through the heart by the look of that hole in his jacket. I think he’s dead,’ a man’s voice said in satisfaction.

  ‘I wonder what he was doing on Jonas’s horse?’

  ‘The last time I saw the nag it was tied up outside the inn at Poole. I imagine he did Jonas in and stole it.’

  ‘But Maisie said he was looking for us, so he might be someone in authority.’

  ‘All the more reason to get rid of him.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have shot him in the back Stephen, he didn’t have a chance to defend himself.’

  ‘For God’s sake stop whining. He didn’t ask for us by name, and it could have been anyone from the description. Go through his pockets. The horse ran off but he wouldn’t have gone far. Put a bullet through his head to make sure.’

  ‘I won’t shoot a man in cold blood.’

  ‘He’s already dead. Stop arguing and do it,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and see if I can find Jonas’s horse.’

  ‘Shit! I can’t do him in,’ the man muttered, rummaging in Matt’s pockets. He took the few shillings, gazed at it and muttered, ‘Poor bugger, you haven’t got much.’ He remembered the money he’d wasted gambling, and Jonas urging him to walk away from Stephen.

  Matt couldn’t hold his breath any longer and it left his body in a rush.

  Patrick jumped and his voice was jittery. ‘You’re alive, thank God. What shall I do? They’ll hang me.’

  ‘I’m not badly hurt. Pretend to shoot me and leave the money,’ Matt whispered. ‘They can’t hang you if I’m not dead, but they can for highway robbery. You won’t regret it.’

  ‘Hurry up, will you,’ Stephen shouted

  Matt’s money was dropped into the mud, Patrick Hartford’s voice was thin and high-pitched with panic. ‘I’ve got to go. If he finds out you’re alive he’ll shoot you himself.’ Metal clicked against metal as the hammer was pulled back. As Matt braced himself there was a shot. His body jerked, then he sagged into the earth as leaf litter spouted up in front of him.

  Patrick Hartford went behind a tree and began to heave.

  Laughter came from the top of the slope. ‘You’ve never killed a man before, have you? Kick some leaves over him so he won’t be seen.’

  Wiping his mouth, Matt’s unlikely savior did what he was told, then walked back up the slope, saying casually, ‘I didn’t kill him, he was already dead.’

  ‘I was lying. I thought it was time you were blooded. The next time you have to kill someone it will be easier.’

  ‘You bastard!’ To Matt’s relief and to Lord Hartford’s credit, the man managed a shaky laugh and refrained from looking back at him as he said, ‘Come on, let’s go back to the cottage. Where’s the horse?’

  ‘He was spooked and took off. We’ll never catch him. Maisie has left us some food at the cottage. You can stay there while I spy out the land. I might go and see Maisie afterwards, so don’t wait up.’

  When the sound of the horses faded, Matt managed to stagger to his feet. He’d lost some blood, but by some miracle the bullet had travelled along his shoulder blade and had lodged just under the skin, near where the arm fitted into its socket. The area was beginning to swell. It needed cutting out, but although he had a knife in his boot he couldn’t see the area, and his hands were trembling too much to safely attempt the job. He’d have to leave the ball in place, and hope he found help before poisoning set in.

  Stuffing his cravat under his waistcoat to staunch the blood was the best he could do. And he could walk with the aid of a stout stick he found in the undergrowth.

  Soon, the light began to be swallowed by the dusk, and the trail became more difficult. He just hoped he was still on the right path.

  Chapter Fifteen

  At the Stratton house Amber, Emma and Caroline were playing a lively game of cricket on the lawn with the children.

  ‘Well done,’ Emma shrieked when Jake hit the ball into the shadows under an oak. T
hat’s a win for Susannah’s team. Time we went inside now, the light’s going and nurse will want to ready you for bed.’

  ‘I don’t want to go to bed,’ Susannah grumbled, and that started the other girls off.

  ‘Neither do I. Can I wear my blue dress and my new bonnet tomorrow, mama?’

  ‘I want to wear my yellow one.’

  ‘You’re both wearing pink,’ Emma said firmly.

  I’m glad I’m not a girl,’ William said loftily, and exchanged a grin with Jake. The pair walked off towards the house, jostling each other

  ‘I’ll get the ball,’ Amber said, while the children we ushered towards the house, but nobody heard her because the adults’ eyes, ears and hands were occupied with tired and grumbling children.

  There was a dark patch under the oak where the sunlight didn’t reach. The leafy branches swept down to the ground in a graceful sweep. The light inside was a quiet hush of jade. Someone had thought to place a wooden seat there. Acorn pipes littered the ground and crunched beneath her feet. Emma had told her that one of the Stratton family had planted the tree one hundred and twenty years previously.

  She ran a finger over a heart pierced with an arrow carved in the seat and smiled when she saw Emma and Archie’s initials. Archie had proposed marriage to Emma here. What a wonderfully romantic place.

  Benedict had rather taken their marriage for granted, and she’d gone along with it because she’d fallen in love with him. It had all been too fast. Love had happened before she’d had time to think, and she’d been swept away by it. Did Benedict feel the same?

  Picking up the ball Amber took in a few seconds to enjoy the moment of quiet. Then her spine began to prickle with unease, for she had a sense of being watched.

  But there had been no sign of her cousin, and Jonas Carlton was in London. She experienced a faint sense of loss, for Patrick was her only relative and she wished things had been different for them. He was ruining his life, and she wondered if she might be able to talk some sense into him if Stephen Gould’s influence was removed.