Lady Bess

by Claudy Conn

  Bess silently thanked the heavens for the thick brush hiding their presence in the woods as she watched a brightly painted wagon, with its unique and familiar design and the two same cob horses she had seen before, lumber heavily down the country dirt road.

  She and Donna exchanged glances before Bess said, “As I said, he obviously doesn’t want to make camp with his friends.”

  “Oh no, oh no,” Donna started to moan.

  “I am telling you, Donna, he is going to do something horrible to that boy soon.” It was in that moment that Bess made up her mind. “I am going to follow him, and you are going to fetch the men. Go now, Donna, go now.”

  “But how will I know where you will be?” Donna was shrieking again.

  “He will camp soon, somewhere as deep into these woods as that old dirt road will take him. Follow it—that is where I will be, keeping watch.”

  “You don’t know that he will stop soon,” Donna wailed.

  “I do. This road hasn’t been used in a very long time. No doubt it will end abruptly. He knows it. He knows he won’t be seen if he takes it to its end. That is where I will be.” Bess eyed her friend. “Hurry now—go and get them and be sure they are armed. I do believe we are dealing with the worst kind of blackguard—a desperate one.”

  “Come with me, Bess. You don’t have to stay here and watch the wagon. You don’t—why should you?” Donna was near tears.

  “In case he decides to move off, I will be on hand to follow them, and I will leave you clues to find us. Trust me, Donna, I know what I am doing.”

  “But if he sees you? Drat it all. I usually carry my little pistol in my saddle bag, but Robby took it out the other day to stuff my saddle bag with another sandwich.”

  Bess smiled. “Yes, he did the same with mine, but I put my pistol back in my saddle bag when he was done.” Bess grinned proudly. “Papa taught me that if I was going to ride about the countryside without a groom, I must learn to shoot and always carry my gun, just like a wild American pioneer.”

  “Faith, Bess, you are one of a kind, but you aren’t a wild American pioneer, and if he is as ruthless as you say …” Donna wailed.

  “Go on now, hurry,” Bess threw back at her.

  “Right then. I am off. It will take me about an hour to get back, and another hour to get the men, get a fresh horse, and get back here, Bess, two hours. Dusk will be setting in. Oh, Bess, do stay hidden. Please, promise me that much.”

  “I faithfully promise to stay hidden. Now ride like the wind.” Bess laughed and shooed her friend off.

  A few moments later, with the Gypsy wagon well ahead, she followed its tracks along the road. It was fairly easy, for it was a straight road without any turn-offs.

  It wasn’t long until she realized that the road had narrowed to not much more than an old wagon track, much as she had surmised it would.

  She urged her horse into the woods and quietly made her way towards the wagon, keeping enough of a distance so that she would remain hidden by the lush growth of evergreens. She dismounted and led her horse to a patch of grass, where she tethered him to a tree. He was able to pick at the grass and remained quiet as she took up position to watch.

  The Gypsy had parked his caravan and was busy making camp.

  Bess shook her head silently and ruefully to see the old Gypsy fortune teller, the very one who had read her fortune, come out of the wagon with the young boy in tow.

  The boy’s hands were tied at his back. The fortune teller kicked him and made him sit against the wagon wheel, bound his ankles together, and then used a length of rope to bind him to the wagon wheel.

  Bess wanted to pull the woman off the child and, as the earl would say, ‘land her a facer’.

  The old woman went back inside her caravan while the Gypsy man, who Bess decided was her son, went about the business of seeing to his horses.

  He tenderly cared for them, led them to the bubbling brook that passed through the clearing into the forest, and allowed them to drink before he returned them to the grassy patch near his wagon. He then hobbled them so that they were able to slowly graze but could not run off.

  The old woman appeared again and pointed a bony finger at the boy, no doubt as a warning, as she removed the gag from his mouth and gave him a sip of water that spilled about his chin and down his clothing.

  No sooner did he have his sip of water but the boy, full of spit and fire, shouted at the top of his young lungs, “HELP!”

  The woman hauled off and smacked him with an open hand across his face before stuffing his mouth once more with the dirty rag.

  Bess nearly showed herself, gun leveled at that point, but managed to control this instinct. However, she knew she had to do something—she simply had to. This had gone on long enough, and from the viciousness with which the old woman slapped the boy, Bess was certain in the end they meant him the ultimate harm. How could they not? They had not bothered to blindfold him, so he was able to describe them. They knew this.

  It didn’t matter to them, because they knew what they intended his fate to be. The question was: when?

  She would wait for the opportunity, for Bess genuinely feared they had brought him to this lonely spot to murder and bury him that very night. The old woman had given him a sip of water, though. Was that a good sign? Perhaps, but in the end she would do what she had to do to survive. Bess knew that.

  She stuck the small ladies’ pistol her father had given her a few years ago into the pocket of the dark blue velvet skirt of her riding ensemble.

  She only took a moment to pause and suck in some fresh air to bolster herself; then she moved to a vantage point where she could hear without being seen and waited.

  * * *

  The earl knew something was wrong as soon as he saw Maddy’s face. The plump woman wrung her hands and apologized, “My lord, my lady said they were only going out for a short ride, just a ride nearby, she said, but that was well over two hours ago. Two hours, my lord.”

  Robby frowned. “What’s that you say, Miss Maddy? A ride? Did they perhaps go into town to shop?”

  “No, she would have told me to delay tea if she thought they would be so late.” She started to whimper, and it was obvious that she was highly agitated.

  The earl told her to go in and calm herself with a strong cup of tea. “That’s right, Maddy m’darlin’, there is naught to worry yerself aboot. I’m certain the ladies will walk in any moment now.”

  It was at that precise moment the door burst open. Donna, her hat askew, her lovely pale green riding ensemble covered in dust, her hair a flyaway, windblown mess, entered the hallway and with eyes wide, said, “There is no time to lose!”

  The earl’s heart pumped harder than it ever had before. Fear flooded through his mind and banished all equanimity. He was filled with sudden terror because not only was Bess absent from the scene, but her closest friend appeared terrified. He asked sharply, “Donna, what is it—where is Lady Bess?”

  Robby, still unaware that something was seriously wrong, said, “What happened to you, love? You look a—”

  “No time—need fresh horses, must hurry … hurry, for there is no saying that she will keep her promise to me, and they are horrible, awful villains.”

  “What is this, wife?” Robby was now moved to frown. “What is this about villains? And where is Bess?”

  A strangled sound came out of the earl. “My lass—where did ye leave Bess?”

  “You are wasting time with questions. We have to get fresh horses—I will explain on the way!”

  “Oh dear, oh no, Donna, dearest Donna, only tell me my sweet girl is safe?” Maddy was now taking Donna’s hands.

  Donna hugged her. “Yes, Maddy, she is well and safe, but I must hurry back to her, and we will explain upon our return. Don’t worry. All will be well.”

  A few moments later, fresh mounts under them, they were cutting through the fields, Donna in the lead.

  She had maintained a vigilant silence at the stables, cau
tioning them not to ask any questions in front of the grooms; she’d only whispered that they all needed to be armed.

  Her husband’s eyebrows went up, and the earl looked grim, but as they started out, Robby rode up to her and asked her to slow down and tell him what the deuce was towards.

  “No time. I don’t trust her to keep her promise to me. Come on—I know a shortcut,” Donna said. “I found it on the way here. There is no time to lose.”

  “Stop!” the earl demanded, ignoring Robby’s questions. “Ye will tell me now before we go any further, Donna, what the devil has happened.”

  “We met Mary Russell and that horrible Holland fellow when we went for our ride. Mary told us that her uncle’s ten-year-old ward, which in as frank a term as I can tell you, is his er … by blow—”

  “Donna, I say,” objected her husband.

  “Well, there you are, no time to hem and haw about it—the boy is ten, and he is missing. Apparently his father had decided to adopt him and leave him everything. At any rate, we don’t know if it is for ransom or some other devious reason, but the boy was abducted. Wouldn’t you know, it was the boy Bess has been telling us she saw in the Gypsy wagon.” She paused, took a breath, and then put up a hand to stall their questions. “Mary Russell showed us a miniature. Never mind all that. We tracked him from the carnival. They have him—they do, just as Bess suspected. The Gypsy that Bess saw at the Red Lion has him, and she wouldn’t come back with me. Said she meant to watch them, but knowing Bess … the Lord only knows what she will get up to.”

  “Lead the way,” the earl said darkly.

  * * *

  Bess was getting stiff crouched down and leaning over her knees. She stood up, stretched, and then hurriedly crouched down again. It felt like the longest two hours she had ever spent in her life while she waited for an opportunity to do what she had planned out in her mind.

  She knew young Thomas’s life depended on her freeing him as soon as she could.

  She had watched as the Gypsy man paced and talked to his mother. He appeared worried. He had killed his fair share of men, he told her, but never a child. He didn’t like it.

  She told him they had no choice.

  So there would be no help there, Bess thought.

  “Dashed if I’ll wait another day for our blunt, Mama. I’m off to the tavern to meet with ’im, I am, and mean to do whot ye told me. I’ll tell ’im I’ll let the boy go if he don’t hand over the blunt, as we’ll be wanting to pack up and hurry off soon as the deed is done. I’ll tell ’im that, I will.”

  His mother grunted. “Aye, Raphael, ye be a good boy—ye tell the flash covey whatever ye need to tell him, but don’t ye leave him alive if he doesn’t hand over the ready!”

  “Right ye are, Mama.” He nodded towards the boy. “What about him? I don’t fancy a lot of bloodshed—he is just a lad.”

  She made a derisive sound. “Ye are too good fer yer own sake, Raphael, but never ye mind. I’ve got a special recipe for dinner jest for ’im, I do.”

  He sighed heavily, tipped his peaked cap, and made off for one of his cob horses. He threw on a hackamore and mounted the large steed bareback before waving himself off.

  His mother looked after him for a time and grumbled to herself for a moment before she turned to Thomas, who had watched the proceedings with wide and frightened eyes.

  “Ye have been a troublesome boy, but it will all be over soon.” She then proceeded to climb the steps back into her caravan, mumbling a string of oaths and grumbling about the hardships of her life as she disappeared within its depths.

  It was then that Bess made up her mind. She didn’t have time to waste. The Gypsy man was gone, the old woman wasn’t a challenge, and this was likely to be the only opportunity she’d have to get to the boy and free him.

  She slinked through the trees and made a wild dash for the remaining cob horse, who was grazing on the lush grass, unable to run because of the hobble tied around his back leg. She undid the hobble in the hope that he would wander off.

  She turned and saw the boy watching her, his eyes wide with hope, and she rushed towards him.

  Bess went to the boy and put a finger to her lips as a warning for him to be quiet. She removed the rag from his mouth and whispered, “Watch as best you can for me while I undo your ties.” She then managed to undo the binding at his wrists, which were tied at his back, while he undid the rope at his ankles. The knotted rope that kept him tethered to the wagon’s wheel proved to be more difficult to manage.

  She had finally got this undone when the boy cried out.

  Bess turned to find the Gypsy woman swinging a cane and coming towards her.

  “Run, Thomas, to the road, run—I have friends coming!” she called to him as she squared off with the old woman.

  “But … you …” he objected bravely as he stood his ground.

  “Never mind me,” she said, shoving the boy off and putting her hand in her pocket to retrieve her gun as she ducked the woman’s wide-swinging cane.

  Bess leveled her little gun and said with all the gusto she could bluster, “I would think twice about what you are now doing. You see, it is time for me to tell your fortune, and I’m afraid it is worse, much worse, and far more certain, than the reading you gave me. Yours is inevitable. You are in more than a little danger.”

  “Oi’ll kill ye fer this, ye stupid rich tart!” the old woman spat at her.

  “If I were you, I would try and escape me and leave the area as fast as you can. You see, I have friends coming even as we speak. They will arrive, and your fate will then be sealed, for they will be armed and ready, and you will be brought to justice.”

  “And ye will be dead,” said a male voice full of hatred at her back.

  Startled, she spun around, but the Gypsy had already grabbed her. “Eh, Mama, ’tis a good thing I come back fer m’gun.”

  Bess struggled as best she could, for he was attempting to take her pistol from her and didn’t seem to mind breaking her arm in the process. She had to do something, or all would be lost. She decided to try and get off a shot.

  Without taking aim and hoping for the best, Bess took her shot. She was pleasantly astounded to find she had hit her mark.

  She had shot him in the foot, and he was hopping on the other, shrieking in agony and telling his mother to kill her.

  Bess was ready to make a wild dash for it. It should be easy enough to outrun an old lady and a man who was now as hobbled as his horse.

  Her body was shaking, but she held onto her gun and kept on backing towards the road, keeping the Gypsy man in her sights. He couldn’t run, but once he had his gun he could shoot at her. She didn’t want to get shot in the back while she ran.

  What she had forgotten was his cane-swinging mother, who had managed to make her way to Bess’s blind spot and suddenly came at her in a total fury. The old woman hit her mark and landed Bess a body blow that sent her flying back and onto the grass.

  She lay there a moment, bruised and winded, but she didn’t think anything was broken. Then she heard a Scotsman’s roar as the earl dismounted and in one fluid, God-like movement knocked out the Gypsy man. He then threw the old Gypsy woman to Robby, telling him to truss her up.

  She had seen his full-throttled action and felt a flood of warmth, but even so, the world as she saw it continued to spin out of control. Her gaze seemed clouded over, and she realized she had been more traumatized by the flush hit she had received than she knew. Suddenly, she was sure she was about to swoon.

  She had never fainted before, but for some reason, frazzled nerves, pain, and relief made her feel dizzy. It all got to her all at once, and the world began to swim before her eyes. The last thing she saw was the earl’s blue eyes, and the last thing she heard was his dear, wonderful accent as he said, “Coom, love, I have ye, I do, that’s a bonny lass.”

  ~ Fifteen ~

  BESS’s LASHES FLUTTERED open, and she looked up to find the earl’s handsome face peering down at her. She sm
iled, and then she remembered and with some concern asked, “Thomas?”

  “Donna has the lad safe in hand. The villains have been tied to one another and to their wagon, and Robby has gone to fetch the authorities. However, my first concern is ye, lass. How badly are you hurt?”

  She pulled on his sleeve as she sat up and then took his hand and with some effort got to her feet. She winced, as she hurt in places she didn’t know could hurt so badly, but she smiled and told him she was fine.

  He eyed her doubtfully but asked, “Can ye ride home, or shall I hire a coach?”

  “No, no … I would much rather just ride home. It will be quicker. Can you take Thomas up with you?”

  “Aye.” He turned to Donna. “Robby knows to follow us as soon as he can.”

  Donna frowned. “Indeed, we should get the boy away from here. He tells me he hasn’t had more than a piece of bread in days.”

  “Right then,” the earl said, taking Bess’s hand. “Where is yer horse, m’love?”

  She led him to her tethered animal, and he helped her mount. She winced and gritted her teeth, as this caused her a great deal of pain, and she wondered if indeed she would be able to ride. However, once in her saddle, she told herself, she would be fine.

  The ride home was something she would never forget. Even though she was in a great deal of discomfort, the earl kept Thomas laughing as he told him various anecdotes and stories from his youth.

  Bess hadn’t realized she could admire him more, but this side of him made her see him in full light, and that light was astounding.

  Donna couldn’t stop looking at her and asking if she was all right. “You took quite a blow, Bess. I wanted to kill the old woman myself, for we arrived just in time to see it happen. Bess, are you in pain? You are, aren’t you?”

  She smiled at her friend. “Nothing to speak of.”

  “You are a wretch. You said you would wait for us.”

  “I couldn’t. I had to take my chance. They were going to kill him,” Bess said simply.

  Donna sighed, and they rode in silence for a time.