by Anne Millar
As it was he was disappointed to see the Hampton’s housekeeper descend from the coach when it pulled to a halt in front of the house. Then alarmed to see that she was alone. Without thinking about it he started walking over then quickened his step when he saw the level of her agitation.
“Mrs Rogers, what brings you to Trefoyle?” Not original certainly, but Thomas was only concerned with what lay behind the highly unusual occurrence of the incredibly proper Oakenhill housekeeper paying a call in her employer’s coach.
“His lordship’s pistol is taken, milord.”
“Disturbing, but why come here? Do you think I’ve taken it? And it’s no longer milord, Mrs Rogers. Colonel Stainford will do fine.” Levity was entirely inappropriate to the poor woman’s state of mind but Thomas couldn’t think of any other way to divert her. And if he was to get any sense he needed to break what was obviously a fixated line of thought.
“Walnut handles and ten inch barrels, milord. The frizzen so light it takes no pressure at all to move it. His lordship had them made when he was nineteen. The old master was furious, but all we maids thought he was so dashing.”
“Do you have any idea who has taken Lord Hampton’s duelling pistol?” It would be highly unusual for only one pistol to be stolen. The pistols and their case would be highly valuable, but not one pistol on its own.
“Miss Judith of course.” Mrs Rogers was looking at him as if he’d lost his senses. “That’s why I’ve come to you.”
“Mrs Rogers, you’d better come inside. I’ll have them get you a tisáne. Hartshorn spirit I think would be best.” Whatever had prompted this he was unlikely to get much sense out of her, so best to hand her over to the servants for safe keeping till her wits returned.
“There isn’t time. You have to go after her.” Her insistence was so emphatic Thomas stopped his effort to usher her inside.
“Where has she gone?”
“After him. That wretched man. To stop his wickedness.”
This was still making little sense on the surface but Thomas had the deeply unpleasant feeling that the story was about to get nasty and that Theodore Horsley would be at the centre of it.
“Take your time and tell me what has happened, Mrs Rogers. I need to understand. But I promise you I will rescue Judith from whatever threatens her.”
There was a little group assembled by the front door of Trefoyle and Thomas beckoned Wright forward. “Horse, sword and pistols. As quickly as you can, Wright.”
Then he turned back to the distraught housekeeper. It all came tumbling out then: Judith’s withdrawn silence over the past few days; John Hampton’s return to Oakenhill beaten and bloodied; Judith and John’s implacable opposition to their father summoning the magistrate; and finally her departure that morning alone with the subsequent discovery that one of her father’s duelling pistols was missing.
“He’s an evil man, milord. Not fit for my wee lamb. But to kill him. She’ll hang.”
There was nothing else he could do but reassure the woman that he would not allow Judith to hang, that he’d catch her before she could commit the capital crime and bring her back safe. Privately Thomas knew it wasn’t that simple. Judith had a good head start, she was well mounted on Sherbery and if there was one thing she could do well it was to ride. Reaching her in time would be extremely problematical.
He should have foreseen this, forced Judith to talk to him instead of accepting her rebuffs. If this ended as badly as it looked he’d never be able to forgive himself. Judith was too precious, too dear to be allowed to sacrifice herself. If Horsley needed killing he’d do it, not her. “Mrs Rogers, tell your story to Lady Guilmor. And don’t worry, I’ll bring Judith back. But make sure no one comes after us. I will do this alone.”
Or at least with only Wright for assistance, for the man was waiting in the saddle of his horse holding Swiftsure by the reins, and obviously intending to accompany his master.
~
Judith had no doubts about her course as she pounded toward Horsley Hall. She would get Theodore Horsley alone and shoot him. A bullet in his chest would put an end to his malevolence. She had no doubt either about her own fate. She would hang. That was the prescribed punishment for a capital crime and she had no argument with that. It would be a fitting ending for a life gone wrong. No need to worry about being a ruined woman, no shame to endure, no ongoing humiliation under a fumbling Theodore Horsley. John’s gambling debts would be unenforceable with his creditor dead. Oakenhill would be lost to the Hamptons for father was too feeble to hold it and John too reckless to be trusted. But she would be free of the struggle to save it.
Thomas might regret her passing a little. She would like to think so, but in truth he would be busy fighting his battalion in Spain and her death would be no more than a footnote in his life. A tidying up of old business. The bleakness of the thought nearly made her weep, she had hoped so much that their love would be the core of her life. Even now she could remember so clearly the joy that had suffused her body when she rode to meet him. Nothing so foolish as a silly young girl. On this ride her stomach was cold and clenched and that was reality. What had been before was just a dream that had passed.
Self pity never was attractive so she put it aside. There was no choice, anyone who had seen John lifted out of his saddle would realise that. Thank goodness father hadn’t seen that. He’d been too slow and Mrs Rogers had been quick thinking enough to impede him so that he hadn’t seen his son till John was abed and cleaned up a little. Even then he’d looked bad enough, but nothing compared to the living corpse their footmen had lifted down.
It had taken all her powers of persuasion to stop father calling the magistrate. Only John’s whispered entreaties added to her voice had finally convinced him. Even then the suspicion in his face had torn at Judith. It was simply impossible to explain that while they knew why John had been attacked again, there was no way to bring the culprit before the law. At least no way without exposing the debts and shame that her brother had brought to their door. Besides Sir William Selby was not renowned for his perspicacity. Proving that Theodore Horsley was behind the attack would tax the magistrate’s powers too far. Even if he believed them.
Father gave her a bad time though when he asked if she was sure she wanted to marry Theodore Horsley. It had come from nowhere, just after they’d left John’s room to let him rest. Father gave no hint that the question was linked to the injuries John had suffered, he just came out with it. She’d been slow to answer, too concerned with how he’d made the connection, if he had. When she did answer she was gauche enough to assure him she did and then ask him why he asked. Anything more likely to arouse suspicion she couldn’t have contrived.
‘I’d not have you unhappy, Judith.’ The words had twisted into her like a knife. She knew father meant them, knew he guessed more than he could admit, but he couldn’t be allowed to know the whole sordid story. He still thought Horsley intended to marry her. If he once knew the truth he’d act as any decent man would and die for it. Even Sir Theodore Horsley would be brave enough and strong enough to kill an invalid.
John by contrast displayed all the courage of a frightened rabbit. The first time she was alone at his bedside he was importuning her to go to Horsley, blaming her delay in degrading herself for his injuries. No thought for the shame and humiliation she was to face, just fear for his own skin. She’d made her decision then, that she’d kill Horsley before she’d submit to him. There would be scandal which father would suffer from, but nothing like as much as having a daughter trolloping about as Horsley’s mistress.
Her resolution nearly failed when she cantered into the grounds of Horsley Hall. Even patting the butt of father’s duelling pistol hooked beneath her riding skirt did nothing to reassure her. Would she actually have the resolution to pull the trigger when she was face to face with Theodore?
If the footman thought an unaccompanied lady arriving odd he took care not to show it in his face. Which was only wise when as far a
s he was concerned she would shortly be mistress of the house and not just its master. Unfortunately Florinda Horsley was crossing the hall just as Judith was admitted and consequently quite unavoidable.
“Judith. How pleasing to see you. Does Theodore know you are come?” There was triumph in her tone that shouted she knew what her son’s bargain with Judith was, and approved of it.
Nothing else to do but tell the truth but that didn’t mean she had to do it apologetically and Judith made sure Florinda Horsley felt every inch of her defiance. “No, Lady Horsley. I called without arrangement.”
“The man will fetch him.” Florinda nodded to the footman hovering at the side of the hall and Judith felt herself cringe. Till she remembered her true purpose here. Not as a sacrificial victim to Theodore Horsley’s lust but as his nemesis. She’d leave his mother mourning him, and the prospect didn’t cause her a moment’s unease. Did that mean she was wicked?
“I must see the housekeeper. Why don’t you wait for Theo in the library, Judith?” That was calculated to put her in her place. Florinda Horsley kept smiling as she spoke, drifting away from Judith all the while to emphasise the casual humiliation. The calculated mortification had the opposite effect to the one intended though. It hardened Judith’s resolution. Accept the position of mistress that the Horsleys intended for her and it would be only a matter of time before the footmen were smirking as they admitted her.
“I shall, Lady Florinda. With much anticipation.” She must have put too much coyness into the retort for Florinda Horsley favoured her with a look of pure malice as she left the hall. Or maybe the woman wasn’t as insensitive as Judith took her for and recognised the incorrect title as the put down it was intended to be.
Whatever the explanation it didn’t really matter, there was no option but to take herself off into the library and wait. Unless she cut and ran, it wasn’t too late for that. The thought of mounting Sherbery and just riding off was tempting in the still quietness of the Horsley library. Let someone else sort it all out while she coached down to Aunt Chloe or Aunt Matilde. Only that someone else would have to be father and he didn’t have the strength any more.
At least she wasn’t waiting to surrender herself to Theodore Horsley. That would be truly awful, to have the man on top of you, sweating and grunting while he took his pleasure. Judith had to check herself there. What she was about to do was far more serious, only justified by Sir Theodore Horsley’s malicious scheming and disregard for those who would be hurt by his actions. It just didn’t feel as if she was sitting here waiting to commit murder.
No jury in the land could call it otherwise, not even if she were to explain what had brought her here, and that she could never do for the shame it would bring on her family. Yet what she was turning over in her mind was not the crime she was about to commit but whether he would try to force himself on her here or take her upstairs to a bedroom. Being distracted was one thing, this verged on insanity. She hadn’t even considered how to produce the pistol from its repository hanging in her skirt, let alone what to say to him. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Theodore, but I’ve come here to kill you not submit to you.’
The opening door cut off her thoughts, probably as well before she became properly hysterical. One look at Theodore Horsley’s lustful, gloating face removed all her doubts. This was the only possible way to end this man’s depredations and she would do what had to be done.
“Hello Judith. I am pleased to see you, even if this visit is overdue.” Every word dripped with innuendo and Judith felt her skin crawl. This was the true Theodore Horsley, carefully hidden when he mixed in society and candidly displayed now when he felt safe in his lair.
“Is that why you had John beaten?” If he felt no need to dissemble why should she? Judith felt her chin tilt up as she spoke, uncaring that the gesture betrayed her defiance.
“Your brother is a dissolute young fellow, Judith. Careless whom he mixes with. I’m not surprised he came to harm. Still that is in the past now, with you come here.” The threat was there, not terribly well hidden, and in case she was too obtuse to recognise it, Sir Theodore made it plain for her. “So long as you please me Judith. I like a light skirt with a smile on her face.”
“So it was you who had John beaten?”
He ignored the question, left it lying on the carpet with the utmost contempt, as if daring Judith to ask it again. Judith had no doubt that in Sir Theodore’s private little world that would constitute failing to please him.
“Are you going to St Petersburg?” Maybe she could throw him off balance if she changed her line of attack.
“I am. Though I have not yet decided whether I shall take you with me.” Arrogance and glorying in arrogance were masculine characteristics that were hard to forgive in the most pleasing of men. In Sir Theodore the effect was sufficiently bad to transcend repulsive. “We shall have to see if you are worth the trouble, Judith. I’m sure the Russians have plenty of lady birds to supply to a man with money. All those princesses and countesses with their grand titles and their illustrious lineages but without a rouble to their name.”
He was goading her of course, trying to make her lose her temper. Clearly the man was a sadist, not content with having a woman submit herself to his lust, but needing to humiliate her too. Judith silently gave thanks for the pistol she carried. If she ever had any doubts about the righteousness of her chosen course they were gone.
“But you will stop having John beaten?” For all that the sensible part of her brain told her not to squabble with the man, she couldn’t help arguing. Even though she knew that she carried the trump card, fully loaded under her skirt, Judith couldn’t let him win their verbal skirmish. Or was she just putting off the moment when she would have to make her stand?
“I don’t usually spend this long talking with a bit of muslin, Judith.” She could tell how much he was enjoying being offensive. “Unless of course I’m at a ball or a rout. The aristocracy put such emphasis on following the correct form don’t they? It doesn’t matter if some fellow’s lending you his wife or sister to settle a debt you still have to spend time talking with them before you chase her upstairs.”
She could see the feverishness in his face and realised that his foul words were to bolster his own courage. The wretched man was talking himself into a frenzy by insulting her. Judith cursed herself for leaving the arrangement with the pistol to chance: Horsley was so overwrought there was no telling what would happen next. Some devil in her though made her repeat her question, however unwise it was to provoke him. “You will leave John alone.”
“That depends on how good you are Judith. On your back.” The words from his mouth were harsh and crude, but entirely unconvincing, betraying a lack of confidence. Judith realised she wasn’t dealing with an experienced roué but a pathetic pretender. Not that made him any less dangerous, and certainly less predictable. So it was still folly to bait him.
“How do I know I can trust you?” Was she baiting him or just putting off that moment? In the end it didn’t matter for her question was enough to cause the fury in his face to explode into pure hatred.
“You will learn who is master between us, Miss Hampton. With your high and mighty condescension. Trust me? I own you, Judith. You, and your snivelling brother, and your so proper father. Does he know his precious daughter is here this morning to whore herself? Or does he prefer not to ask himself that question?”
He was moving as he spoke, towards her with evident intent and Judith couldn’t help herself but to back away. “Wait.” This would never do, she had to do what she had come here for. “Theodore, please wait.”
He hesitated for a second, perhaps surprised by the pleading in her voice but then came on again and she could see the resolution hardening in his face as she backed away from him again. “I’ll show you what your place is madam. You’ll be sorry you tried to bargain with me.”
“I am sorry I’ve angered you, Theodore. I didn’t mean to.” The words stuck in her cra
w but she had to create some time and space for herself. “Please let me show you.”
His eyes followed as her hand dropped to her skirt and Judith knew she had him then. Roué or pretender all men were the same. As her fingers worked the hooks holding the skirt closed Theodore Horsley ogled her blatantly.
“I had intended to take you upstairs Judith. But right here will add a certain frisson to our coupling. To think I was concerned you might be reluctant. Keep going my dear, I’m going to enjoy watching you disrobe.”
His fat face split into a gruesome smile, till those same fingers finished their fumbling and raised a duelling pistol to point at him, primed and loaded. Sir Theodore lost his gloating, lustful preoccupation then. He started shaking as Judith cocked the weapon with the aplomb of a veteran.
“Please, Judith, I beg of you to be careful.”
It was his turn to back away and Judith moved forward to keep pace with him.
“Did you think I would submit myself to a loathsome slug of a man like you? I will not. Instead I will end your evil.” She couldn’t bring herself to use his name but that didn’t seem to matter. He couldn’t very well doubt whom she meant.
“Judith I beseech you. They will hang you if you murder me. You could not escape this house.” Behind the words she could see his fear and it made her angrier than ever. How could a man who scrupled so little to hurt others be such a coward for himself?
“Damn you Horsley. I will end your foulness.” It was a mistake to make the same threat again for in the instant she said it Judith could see his expression change. Some of the transparent fear dropped away, replaced by a more calculating look.
“But you haven’t, have you, Judith? Ended my life.”
In a minute more she knew he would start that slow threatening advance of his again, confident of his mastery of her. All her courage would ebb away leaving her just another one of his victims. Judith knew right then that she wouldn’t allow it. She knew too that she had to act or lose.
