The Captain's Kidnapped Beauty

by Mary Nichols

  She looked about her as she left the house to go to work. The road was crowded with people coming and going in carts, carriages and on foot, but she saw no one she recognised. Joining the throng, she made her way down the hill. And then he was beside her again and her heart did a strange flip and gave her an intense feeling of pleasure and pain. She could not control her emotions and that made her angry with herself. She refused to acknowledge his presence until he spoke.

  ‘Why would you not see me last night?’ he asked.

  ‘I had already retired and there was nothing you could say that would change matters.’

  ‘Not even an apology?’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For my clumsiness in making an offer which, if I had stopped to consider, I should have known you were bound to reject. All I was trying to do was to help you. I still want to do that.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked again. ‘I do not understand.’

  He took a deep breath. ‘Because, Miss Gilpin, you are in need of help, that you cannot deny, and because I had the felicity of knowing you and your father in London and when you disappeared, he asked me to find you and bring you back in my capacity as a member of the Piccadilly Gentleman’s Club, and that is what I am trying to do.’

  ‘Oh.’ She digested this extraordinary piece of information for a moment. He was not interested in her as a person, she was simply another of his cases. It was not flattering. On the other hand, it did mean he was not in league with the earl. ‘Is that why you pretend to be Lieutenant Fox?’

  ‘Yes. I could not obtain a berth on the Vixen as Captain Carstairs.’

  ‘Why did you not tell me this before?’

  ‘It was better for you not to know. That way you would not inadvertently let the cat out of the bag. I was not sure who your kidnapper was and it might very well have been Captain Brookside. And remember, Grosswaite was on board and he would have noticed at once if you had been well disposed towards me. As soon as we reached Lisbon Falsham claimed you. When I saw you at the ball you did not seem unhappy with your situation. Until I saw you yesterday, I was not sure if that were the case or not.’

  ‘And now?’

  ‘You have assured me you do not wish to marry the Earl of Falsham, nor me, and so I have spoken to the British Minister and he has agreed to have you to stay with him and his wife as his guest and ensure you are chaperoned at all times. He expects Lord Falsham to agree to this and have your clothes sent to the Residency. You will live more comfortably there without the need to disguise yourself or go to work.’

  ‘I see. But it will mean Lord Falsham knows where I am.’

  ‘To be sure. The Minister is reluctant to upset the earl more than he can help and he needs to be diplomatic at all times, so the need for a chaperon until your father arrives will be put to the earl. Mrs Hay has agreed to perform that role.’

  ‘Supposing Papa does not come, relying on you to fulfil your mission, what then?’

  He smiled wryly. ‘Then, Miss Gilpin, that is what I shall have to do. Let us resolve one thing at a time. The most important at the present time is your safety.’

  He was so businesslike, so impersonal, so detached from any emotion while she was seething with conflicting emotions, most of which centred around the way his physical presence affected her. He managed to make her heart beat so fast she was sure he could hear it, to turn her legs to rubber and make her hands shake. She wanted to touch him, to feel his warmth, to bask in his love and protection, but that was not possible. Instead she resorted to prevarication.

  ‘You have a job to do, Captain,’ she said, as they reached the archway leading to the coachworks. ‘And so have I. I do not leave work unfinished, especially when someone has put his trust in me to complete it.’

  ‘You cannot mean you want to stay here where you will be prey to any unscrupulous man who sees through that flimsy disguise and wants to have some sport with you, besides the risk of being found by the earl and abducted all over again? If you do not go to the Minister of your own free will, he will not be able to help you. I will come in with you and explain to Senhor Rodrigues why you cannot continue in his employ.’

  ‘I do not need you to explain, I am perfectly able to do so myself. Manuel understands English.’

  ‘You call him by his given name, I notice.’

  ‘To distinguish him from his father.’ She looked at him and laughed. ‘If I did not know differently, I would surmise you were jealous, Captain Carstairs.’

  He did not grace that with an answer. Instead he said, ‘Go in. I shall go and fetch my carriage and bring it here to wait for you.’ He looked down at her garden boy’s clothes. ‘It would be better not to be seen near the Residency in that rig.’

  ‘Very well.’ She disappeared inside the building. He went down to the waterfront where he had left the landaulet. A French merchantman had dropped anchor in the river and the crew had just been rowed ashore. It was unfortunate that it coincided with a group of English seaman returning to the Vixen and a ribald comment from one had resulted in a fight between the two groups, which was acrimonious and violent. He was obliged to wade in and restore the peace which took some time but in the end he sent the English tars back to the Vixen and apologised to the Frenchmen, something he was loathe to do when his inclination was to pitch in on the side of his compatriots. The French matelots were angry and not prepared to be appeased, but a handful of escudos soothed their tempers and he was able to find the landaulet, put the hood up and drive back for Charlotte.

  * * *

  He sat outside the coachmakers for over half an hour, becoming more and more impatient, concluding the stubborn girl was finishing the work she had been given before leaving. He left the carriage and went in to fetch her out. She was nowhere to be seen in the workshop or the office. ‘The young English lad,’ he said, addressing the younger Rodrigues who was working at his desk. ‘Is he here?’

  ‘No, he left just over half an hour ago.’

  ‘Do you know where he went?’

  ‘No. He said he was going to stay with a friend until he could find a way of going back to England.’

  ‘I thought I was that friend.’

  ‘Then mayhap his shipmates have found him. He’ll not like that, he said being a sailor did not suit him.’ Manuel looked hard at him. ‘But you are a sailor, sir.’

  ‘I am and anxious to find the lad before he falls into more trouble.’

  ‘I am afraid I cannot help you.’

  ‘I do not mean him any harm. He will not be in trouble if I take him back to the ship at once before she sails.’

  ‘I still cannot help you. I would if I could. I liked the lad, he was a good worker, but I doubt he made a good sailor.’

  ‘No, he did not. That is why I want to protect him. If he comes back, tell him his friend is still waiting.’ He picked up one of the pens on the desk, dipped it in ink and drew a blank piece of paper toward him. ‘This is where I can be found. Tell him that.’

  Having written the direction, he put the pen down and left. Charlotte was obviously sticking to her disguise. What had got into her now? Why could she not have waited for him? This was turning out to be the hardest assignment of all those he had done for the Piccadilly Gentlemen and he never felt more frustrated. The foolish girl still did not trust him.

  Chapter Nine

  Charlotte struggled against her bonds, but they were tied so tightly the effort hurt her wrists. And the gag they had stuffed in her mouth was choking her. The carriage had drawn up right beside her and she had innocently opened the door, believing Alex was inside it. Instead she found herself being hauled in to sit beside Madeleine and a young man who had swiftly tied her up and gagged her. What a fool she had been to go out onto the road to wait for Alex and an even bigger fool for not realising the earl did not do his own dirty work and was bou
nd to send someone else. When it was too late, she realised the carriage was not the one Alex had bought from Rodrigues.

  She had been so relieved and happy that Alex had found her first, especially after he had explained about the Piccadilly Gentlemen and suggested a solution to her immediate problems. It had not meant he reciprocated the love she had for him, but at least she would be able to see him and speak to him if he called on the Minister and she would be protected from the earl. Papa would come and they would go home to England, back to their cosy existence, moving daily between Piccadilly and Long Acre, building up the business, supporting their favourite charities and attending social gatherings. And Captain Carstairs would move on to his next case. She told herself, not very convincingly, she would be content with that.

  But even that hope had been dashed the moment Madeleine and the strange man seized hold of her and bundled her in the anonymous coach, tied her up and gagged her. What was Alex doing? What had he thought when he came back to fetch her and found she had gone? Had anyone seen her being pulled into the carriage? Had anyone heard her cries before they were cut off by that suffocating gag?

  When the coach turned away from the road leading to the earl’s villa, she realised he would not risk taking her back there since Alex knew where it was. They started to climb through narrow streets that were so steep the horse was struggling. On each side rose the walls of close-packed houses which shut out the sun. The alley gave way to a small square and an imposing steepled church. They passed this and went into an even narrower alley and here they stopped. The carriage could go no further.

  They forced her out on to the rough dirt road and pushed her along in front of them and in at the door of one of the houses. The room she found herself in was cool after the heat outside. It was furnished with a table and half-a-dozen wooden chairs, a heavy sideboard in a dark wood and several potted plants.

  ‘Sit down,’ Madeleine commanded, removing the gag.

  Charlotte sat in one of the chairs and took huge lungfuls of air and it was a moment before she could speak. ‘Water,’ she murmured. ‘Give me water, please.’

  Madeleine disappeared through a door into another room, leaving the man to watch over her. Charlotte heard her speaking to someone and then she reappeared with a glass of water, nodding to the man to untie her hands so that she could take it.

  She gulped the liquid down and immediately felt better. ‘Where am I?’ she demanded. ‘What do you want with me?’

  ‘You are in my mother’s house,’ Madeleine said. ‘You will be looked after here.’

  ‘On the earl’s orders?’

  ‘No. It was my own idea.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I mean to help you and myself as well.’

  ‘I do not understand.’

  The girl laughed. ‘I do not want you coming between me and my lord. He is determined to marry you, but it is me he loves. I want us to be as we were before you came.’

  Charlotte remembered the giggles outside her bedroom door, and the way the girl looked at the earl and managed to touch him now and again as if by accident. ‘How was it before I came?’ she asked, trying hard to remain calm.

  ‘For two years we have been close, for two years so happy, but then he went back to England and when he returned he told me his bride was going to join him. I was angry.’

  ‘I imagine you were,’ Charlotte said. ‘But you have nothing to fear from me. I have no wish to marry Lord Falsham.’

  ‘So you say, but my lord says you will. He says you dare not go back to England unwed.’

  ‘Then I shall stay here unwed. Lieutenant Fox has arranged for me to stay with the British Minister in Portugal. He was gone to fetch a carriage to convey me to the Residency just before you arrived.’

  ‘That will not help me. My lord would know you were there and he will not give up. He says there is too much at stake, though I do not know what he means by that.’

  ‘He is talking about money, Madeleine. He is in great need of it, I think.’

  ‘Pah! That cannot be. He can buy anything he wants. No one questions how much money he has. He is a most generous man.’

  ‘He can afford to be, seeing he exists on credit. When his creditors start to demand payment, he will be hard put to come about. That is why he wants to marry me, for the money I will bring to the marriage. I have seen it all before with other young gentlemen and I have always resisted and I shall go on doing so. Take me back where you found me, or better still, to the British Minister’s residence. I will pay you well.’

  The girl laughed. ‘What with?’

  ‘I can arrange for money to be transferred from London to a bank in Lisbon.’

  ‘No. That will not help me to keep my lord, will it? He will be angry.’

  ‘What do you propose to do with me then?’

  ‘My mother and Carlos will look after you.’

  ‘Who is Carlos?’

  The young man who stood watching them suddenly launched into torrents of Portuguese, to which Madeleine answered, none of which Charlotte could follow. ‘This is Carlos,’ she said indicating the young man. ‘He is my brother.’

  ‘I see, but this is all so unnecessary. I will not marry Lord Falsham, whatever he says, you may be sure of that.’

  ‘He will make you.’

  ‘He most certainly will not! You cannot hide me here for ever. Someone will come looking for me.’

  ‘They will never find you.’

  Charlotte feared that might be true. How could anyone penetrate the warren of close-packed houses and know which door she might be hidden behind? She had got away from the earl’s villa; she would have to do the same from this place.

  ‘If you tell the truth and will not marry my lord, I will let you go.’

  Charlotte breathed with relief and stood up. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Not now. When my lord gives up looking for you and is good to me again, then I will.’

  ‘Oh.’ She sat down again.

  Carlos began arguing with his sister, but in the end he shrugged his shoulders and left the room. ‘Come,’ Madeleine said. ‘We will eat.’

  She led the way into the adjoining kitchen where an elderly lady in a plain black gown was stirring something in a pot over the fire. ‘My mother, Senhora Salvador,’ Madeleine said. ‘Sit down.’ She indicated a chair at the table.

  The old lady ladled a thick stew into a bowl and put it on the table in front of Charlotte without speaking, but she looked Charlotte up and down, taking in her boy’s attire and clicking her teeth in disapproval.

  ‘Thank you,’ Charlotte said. ‘Obrigada.’

  Carlos came back into the room and mother, daughter and son sat down with Charlotte to eat.

  The food was surprisingly good, a mixture of different fish, Charlotte thought.

  * * *

  Afterwards she was conducted up two flights of stairs to a small bedroom. ‘You stay here,’ Madeleine said. ‘Got to sleep.’ She left the room and locked the door behind her.

  There was a narrow bed with a mattress, a pillow and a thin sheet. There was also a tiny window which looked out on to a back yard and beyond that the backs of other houses. This was a densely populated area and there would be no escape in that direction, even if she could get downstairs and find her way out there. It would have to be by the front door. But how? And when?

  She wondered what Alex was doing. Was he searching for her? Would he have any idea where to look? Would he simply shrug his shoulders and forget all about her? After all, he had offered her marriage and she had laughed in his face and he had frostily said he would not ask her again. Oh, Alex, she thought, don’t give up on me, please don’t give up. I need you so desperately. She was tired of trying to be brave, she wanted someone to hold her, take the worry from her shoulders and that someone, s
he admitted, had to be Alex Carstairs.

  She pictured him hammering on the door, pushing aside anyone who obstructed him and bounding up the stairs to her. She imagined sinking into his arms and being held and comforted and told how much he loved her and could not live without her. She savoured it for a minute and then pulled herself together. It was only a daydream and not to be indulged in for fear of making her weaker. She had to be strong, had to draw on her own resources to extricate herself.

  * * *

  Alex was frantic. What had happened between the time he had left Charlotte and his returning? She had seemed perfectly amenable, even relieved, by his suggestion she should go to the British Minister’s Residency. Had that been a front to cover her intention to disappear a second time? One of Rodrigues’s workers had told him he had seen her getting into a carriage which was not one of theirs. So where had she gone? He had told her why he was in Portugal and she had seemed relieved and ready to trust him. She had no reason to flee from him and he did not believe she had.

  It had to be Lord Falsham who had found her and abducted her yet again. He knew it would do no good to confront the earl again, much as he would have liked to beat the truth out of him. And he doubted Falsham would have taken her back to the villa, knowing it was the first place anyone would look for her. Besides, she had escaped from there once and his lordship would not risk her doing it again. Falsham had told him she was with friends. Who and where were they?

  His frustration and anger were consuming him. Not since he had lost Letitia at the green age of nineteen had he felt so helpless. In war he had always been decisive, forming a plan of action and making sure it was carried out. Even in peace, with the management of his affairs, he was self-assured. And the work he had been given for the Society for the Discovery and Apprehending of Criminals held no terrors. He went about it with a cool head. What was different now?

  Oh, he knew what was different. He was in love—that was the difference. It was clouding his judgement and making it difficult for him to think clearly. James had told him when he first joined the Piccadilly Gentlemen’s Club that they should not become emotionally involved with the subject of their investigations and that had made him laugh. Every single one of them had married as a result of meeting the love of their lives while working for the Gentlemen. And he had said he was immune!