Miss in a Man's World

by Anne Ashley

‘I was just saying to her Grace, why, if it isn’t Miss Grey out on her lonesome and looking so sad without her swain. He departed this very hour for the country and she is pining for him already. Or is it for those lovely sapphires that he’s deprived you from wearing for the rest of the Season that has brought on such a bout of melancholy?’

  ‘Pay him no mind, my dear child, he’s nothing more than a wicked tormentor,’ her Grace advised.

  ‘Not at all,’ Sir Willoughby countered. ‘Fincham’s only making ready at the ancestral pile for when the nuptials take place. Told me so himself only t’other week. But you had better warn him, my dear Miss Grey, when he does return to town, that her Grace’s brother-in-law is like to beat him to the altar. He’s only got himself in the coils of some young widow. And loving every moment of it, if his latest letter to her Grace is to be believed. And he a confirmed bachelor!’

  ‘One moment, your Grace.’ The duchess had been about to instruct her coachman to move on, but Georgiana had not hesitated to forestall her, for something the baronet had said had resulted in a tiny tinkle of alarm resounding in her head. ‘Sir Willoughby, when precisely did Lord Fincham inform you of his intention to leave town? Was it yesterday, when he received news of some occurrence at Fincham Park?’

  ‘Oh, no, no, no,’ he answered, his thin brows drawing together. ‘Not heard anything about that. Haven’t spoken to him for several days, as it happens. Not since the night of the Radcliffe ball, now I come to think about it. So it must have been then… Yes, of course it was! I remember quite clearly poor Chard didn’t want Fincham to leave town until he’d had a chance to recoup some of his losses. Fincham’s been having the devil’s own luck at the gaming tables of late, so I’ve been told. And poor Chard quite the opposite!’

  ‘Don’t look so worried, child,’ the duchess advised kindly, after observing Georgiana’s deeply troubled expression. ‘Fincham will soon be back with you. And I know what it is to be deprived of one’s jewels, even for a short time. But it is for the best. They’ll be there, ready and waiting for you, when you enter Fincham’s country home as its mistress.’

  Georgiana didn’t attempt to detain them further, and waited only for the carriage to move away before turning her mount and leaving the park, heading in the direction of Berkeley Square.

  If the Dowager’s groom was surprised by the route they were taking, he betrayed no sign of it. He even looked moderately pleased to be left in the mews to cast an eye over his lordship’s fine cattle, the instant they had arrived, while Georgiana herself wasted no time in running her favourite butler to earth.

  Her entry into the kitchen, by way of the door leading to the mews, naturally enough startled everyone present, not least of all Brindle, who hurriedly rose from the table, pulling on his jacket as he did so.

  ‘Why, Miss Grey! We—er—didn’t expect to see you today. The master has already departed, I’m afraid. Left about an hour ago.’

  ‘Yes, I’m aware of that. He was seen. All the same, I’d like a word with you in the library, Brindle, if you’d be so kind.’

  As always, where his future mistress was concerned, nothing was too much trouble, and he very willingly escorted her up the stairs and into the book-lined room. Georgiana waited only until he had closed the door before demanding to know just when his lordship had decided to pay a brief visit to Fincham Park.

  ‘Was it a sudden decision? Did he, perhaps, receive a communication that persuaded him to go?’

  ‘Oh, no, I do not believe so, Miss Grey. If my memory serves me correctly his lordship informed me of his intention to leave town several days ago.’

  So, he’d deliberately misled her as to the reason behind his departure. Nothing untoward had occurred at his ancestral home. Georgiana began to pace the room, trying to recall in minute detail what Sir Willoughby had revealed not an hour since—his lordship openly revealing that he would be leaving town in order to take several items of value to Fincham Park, including the sapphire necklace.

  As a further thought occurred to her she ceased her pacing. She had discovered the year before that there was a safe concealed behind a painting in his lordship’s own bedchamber. A look in there might confirm her worst fears.

  ‘Apart from the silver that I’ve seen about the place, does his lordship keep all his other valuables in the safe? Is the sapphire-and-diamond set stored there, for instance?’

  ‘Oh, no, Miss Grey. His lordship has always taken great care of the family’s heirlooms. The family jewels, for instance, are housed at the vault at his bank. He does keep a reasonable amount of money in the safe and one or two diamond pins for immediate use. And as for your sapphires, miss, as far as I’m aware they are still in the locked drawer in his desk. He thought they would be more secure there. Should anyone chance to break in, which is most unlikely with Ronan in the house, it would be the safe that was the main target.’

  Going across to the desk, Georgiana soon located the drawer in question. ‘Have you the key, Brindle?’

  ‘Oh, no, miss. Only his lordship has a key to that drawer. He keeps it on his fob-watch chain.’ He gazed across at her in a fatherly way, a touch of concern in his eyes. ‘Is there something wrong, miss? You seem troubled about something. I believed his lordship must surely have mentioned to you his intention to leave town for a day or two, most especially as your own servant accompanied him.’

  On discovering this alarm bells began to reverberate in earnest. ‘Digby…?’ She was mistress of her emotions again in an instant. ‘Why, yes…yes, of course!’ She seated herself at the desk, and took out a sheet of paper. ‘I’ll just leave a short note for your master, which I trust you’ll ensure he receives directly on his return. I’ll not detain you further, Brindle.’

  Left alone, Georgiana wrote just two words in large and bold print, which adequately expressed her feelings at that moment, before folding the sheet of paper and sealing it with a wafer. Then, leaning back in the comfortable leather chair, she gazed meditatively at the lock on that particular drawer.

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘I wonder?’

  Although not precisely basking in the sunshine of her approval at the present time, Digby years ago had been one of her favourite companions. Not only had he guarded her like some faithful dog, he had increased her knowledge of the world by teaching her things about which both her mother and grandfather had been sadly ignorant. His own misspent youth had not been in vain; one of Digby’s most valuable lessons had been how to pick a lock. He used to sit and time her until she had mastered the art in under one minute. After all these years could she now put that tuition to good use?

  Removing one of the sturdier pins from her hair, she fashioned it into that long-remembered certain shape, and then inserted it into the lock. She could no longer achieve her objective in under a minute. All the same, it was not long afterwards when she detected that rewarding click, and opened the drawer to discover a velvet-covered square box. Moreover, its contents were intact.

  So, he hadn’t taken any valuables with him to Fincham Park, and possibly had never intended to do so. But he had revealed that that was his intention, and he hadn’t said it for Sir Willoughby’s benefit. Other things that had puzzled her suddenly became clear—his neglect of her had been for some purpose; he had been spending more time at the gaming tables, relieving Chard of his money. He had deliberately proposed she wear the sapphires at the Radcliffe ball in order to dangle temptation before the baron’s eyes. Then he had declared his intention of going out of town in order to give Chard time to organise the robbery. Furthermore, his reason for keeping the jewels in his home was now abundantly clear also—he couldn’t risk her donning them, when they were supposed to be on their way to Fincham Park.

  Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to give way to emotion. All at once bringing Chard to justice was not important to her; Fincham’s safety was everything, as was the well-being of those who had accompanied him. He was putting his life at risk for her, in order to assuage her thirst for
revenge. She might be unable to stop him now; he was a man of strong determination. But she refused to remain in the safety of the metropolis, while he was in peril. There wasn’t a moment to lose!

  Discovering Brindle in the act of placing a vase of flowers on a table in the hall, she didn’t hesitate to inform him that she’d found that particular desk drawer open. ‘I can only assume his lordship forgot to lock it,’ she lied without suffering a qualm. ‘I would suggest you place the sapphires in the safe, until your master’s return.’

  Understandably he was shocked. ‘I shall do so at once, Miss Grey.’

  ‘Before you disappear, Brindle,’ she said, regaining his attention. ‘As his lordship left rather late, and it takes a full day to reach Fincham Park, I assume it is his intention to put up somewhere for the night and finish the journey in the morning.’

  ‘He always puts up at the White Hart, just west of Liphook, and then takes a short cut on a road that traverses Cheetham Wood.’

  Oh, God! Georgiana groaned inwardly. He must surely have been planning this for some little time. He’d considered everything. A wood—the ideal terrain in which to conduct a robbery! Without a doubt, at some point during recent days his lordship would have made that fact known. If Chard had mobilised his forces, then the Viscount was deliberately heading into a trap of his own contrivance!

  Again leaving the house by way of the door leading to the mews, Georgiana was about to remount her mare when a soft whinnying broke into her agonising reflections. His lordship’s favourite mount had poked his head over the stall. Instinctively she acknowledged the greeting by raising her hand to stroke the bay’s fine head, and as she did so a seed of an idea, nourished by renewed hope, began to develop rapidly.

  What she had viewed as her most besetting problem was how to reach his lordship in time. If by some chance she did manage to hire a carriage that afternoon, his lordship would still have several hours’ start on her. She could never reach the White Hart by nightfall, and he would possibly have departed long before she arrived the following morning. Her mare, though admirable in most every way, was nowhere near strong enough to undertake such an arduous journey. But this powerful bay was, most especially if he was allowed to rest at frequent intervals. The only problem that she could foresee was that the bay, if memory served her correctly, had never experienced the side-saddle and might very likely react negatively if one was set on his back. So it wouldn’t be wise for Miss Georgiana Grey to attempt to ride him. Her eyes narrowed. But there was nothing to stop Master George Green from doing so!

  Smiling faintly, she disappeared into the large stable to converse with the young boy left in charge in the head groom’s absence.

  After enjoying a leisurely dinner, eaten in the secluded comfort of a private parlour, Lord Fincham went in search of his two courageous henchmen, both of whom were well aware of the dangers they might face in the morning. He ran them to earth in the tap and ordered them to remain seated as he approached their table.

  ‘I shall join you, if I may?’ His lordship then called across to the landlord and ordered three fresh tankards of home-brewed ale and three glasses of rum. ‘We may as well sleep well tonight, gentlemen, and just hope that Lady Luck favours us on the morrow.’ He looked from one to the other. ‘It isn’t too late for either of you to back out. I shall think none the less of you if you do. As I’ve already mentioned there’s no guarantee the militia, although alerted to be stationed in the wood, will reach us in time if we are held up. The road through Cheetham Wood runs for a good two miles. The attack might take place anywhere.’

  Both the head groom, Perkins, and Digby voiced their determination to remain with the Viscount. ‘Besides,’ Digby added, ‘the young mistress would expect it of me. Given ’alf the chance she’d be ’ere with you ’erself.’

  A ripple of alarm stole across his lordship’s features. ‘You’re sure she knows nothing of this?’

  ‘She’s learned nothing from me, m’lord,’ Digby confirmed. ‘I left bright and early this morning, without seeing ’er. Thought it ’twere for the best. She’s a way of wheedling things out of you, so she ’as. Though I did leave ’er a note with the scullery maid, just to say I were on some errand for you for a day or two. Just ’ope the scatty wench ain’t forgotten to give it to the young mistress, that’s all.’

  Reaching for the glass of rum the landlord had just placed before him, Digby downed the contents in one swallow, much as his friend Jem Fisher had done when visiting his lordship’s house not so very many days previously. ‘Miss Georgie’s a downy one, and no mistake. Don’t want ’er going round asking too many questions. She just might find out what we’re about.’

  Although his lordship understood the loyal retainer’s fears, he took a more realistic view. ‘Well, even if she should find out, I doubt there’s much she can do at, this, the eleventh hour, except mentally rehearse some blistering tirade with which to greet me upon my return.’

  Digby’s appreciative chuckle faded as he chanced to glance through to the coffee-room in time to catch a glimpse of a slight figure, swathed in a voluminous cloak and wearing black buckled shoes and a tricorn hat, pass the open doorway.

  He shook his head and considered the empty vessel still clasped in his large hand. ‘Not that I don’t think that there rum must ’ave gone straight to me ’ead!’ he declared. ‘Best ’ave n’more!’

  As luck would have it the landlady of the White Hart was a kindly soul, with a distinctly motherly nature. She had taken pity on the weary youth who had arrived late in the evening at her inn. Allocating a clean, airy bedchamber, overlooking the courtyard at the front of the inn, she had even gone so far as to send a substantial supper up on a tray, and had been only too willing to provide a hearty breakfast in the same fashion the following morning, the youth being somewhat shy and not wishing to partake of meals in the coffee-room. Which, as it just so happened, could not have suited Georgiana better.

  Luck had favoured her thus far. The journey from London, though tiring for both rider and sturdy mount, had passed quite uneventfully. She’d even been fortunate enough to catch not so much as a glimpse of his lordship or the servants when she had arrived at the inn, and she was determined to do all she could to ensure her luck held. She’d already discovered from one of the inn maids that the Viscount had bespoken the only private parlour, and had ordered his breakfast for eight o’clock sharp. Therefore he would be eating now. So there wasn’t a moment to lose!

  After gathering together the few necessities she’d managed to bring with her and thrusting them into a small leather bag, Georgiana made her way down to the coffee-room, while all the time keeping a sharp eye out for a certain tall, striking aristocrat.

  The landlord was only too willing to look after the leather bag while the young gentleman was about on an errand in the locale, most especially as he was offered sufficient inducement to do so. The young ostler, who had been only too happy to look after the fine bay the evening before, was more than content to continue caring for the horse until the young gentleman returned, when he too was tossed a shiny gold coin. No sooner had he happily pocketed the unexpected largesse than he was called to help make ready his lordship’s carriage.

  Georgiana then wasted no time in secreting herself in the darkest corner of the large barn, from where she could view proceedings undetected. Without doubt this was the most hazardous time, when her presence might be discovered by either Digby or Perkins, both of whom were very likely busily preparing for the departure.

  Through the open doorway, she watched as his lordship’s prime horses were harnessed to the carriage. Then she saw Perkins scramble up on to the box. Not long afterwards Digby joined him on the seat, and the carriage then was tooled slowly to the front of the inn. Leaving her hiding place, Georgiana moved stealthily across the yard to the inn’s front wall in time to see his lordship leave and walk the few steps to his carriage. Then he was safely inside, and Digby, having jumped down, was letting up the steps and clos
ing the carriage door. It was now or never!

  Darting forward, Georgiana hurriedly perched herself on the dummy board at the rear of the coach. Thankfully the conveyance’s rocking must have been put down wholly to Digby returning to his seat, for the carriage moved out of the yard without further ado and they were soon on their way.

  Of course, Georgiana wasn’t so foolish as to suppose her presence would go undetected indefinitely. Unfortunately she was discovered rather sooner than she might have wished. Digby, alighting to open a gate, almost sent her in to whoops by his expression of shocked dismay. Raising her hand, she placed a finger to her lips. Evidently he was too dumbstruck to say anything to her. He regained the power of speech quickly enough, though, for she clearly heard Perkins cry a minute later, ‘Oh, my gawd!’

  The Viscount heard it too and let down the window. ‘Something amiss?’

  ‘Er—no, m’lord,’ Digby answered. ‘It’s just that we can see the outskirts of the wood.’

  ‘Of course you can. I’m well aware of it. Keep your eyes open, both of you.’

  He had sounded irritable. Georgiana knew, however, this stemmed only from concern for the servants’ welfare.

  And he had good reason to be anxious, for no sooner had they entered the wooded terrain than a shot rang out. A cry of pain quickly followed, though whether it was Digby or his lordship’s head groom who had taken the shot, Georgiana could not have said with any degree of certainty. Nor did she attempt to discover which of them had been injured. The instant the carriage had drawn to a halt she slipped from the perch and secreted herself beneath the equipage.

  By this time all was confusion. Shots had rung out from left and right. She could see three figures on the ground, two writhing in agony and one deathly still. Then a rough voice, clear and carrying, demanded his lordship drop his pistol.

  ‘Do as I say or your other servant gets it.’

  The pistol hit the ground with a thud not a yard from where Georgiana lay. Seemingly, the last of the highway robbers couldn’t detect her from where he sat high on a bay horse. The advantage was hers. But for how long? How long before one of the wounded noticed her?