by Mary Nichols
‘Let him come in,’ Edward’s voice called from inside the room the equerry had left.
Alex dusted down his clothes with his hand, handed his hat to the footman and strode into the room.
‘What was all that about?’ Edward asked. ‘Why were you being denied admittance?
Alex carefully shut the door on the listening servants. ‘Not wishing to be seen I came in through a back way and your footman took exception to it.’
‘You are wise to be circumspect, Alex. I have had the Earl of Falsham here complaining bitterly that you have kidnapped his bride and demanding I do something about it.’
‘You know differently.’
‘Of course I do, but I could not say so without betraying I knew where Miss Gilpin is. How is she?’
‘Recovering slowly. There is a merchantman due in on its way to England and I have a mind to take passage for myself and my man, Miss Gilpin and a female companion. Do you know of anyone suitable who might be wishing to go to England?’
‘No, but I will ask my wife.’
‘I was hoping to call on your good lady’s offices to purchase some clothes for Miss Gilpin. The nuns have put her in a strange garment I think must have come from their charity box. She has no clothes of her own.’
‘I am sure Mary will be glad to do that, but I must caution you to be on your guard. The Earl tells me he has had a letter from Miss Gilpin’s father sanctioning the betrothal and desiring him to bring his daughter home so that all may be done properly.’
‘I was afraid of that.’
‘It seems your services are no longer required.’
‘While Miss Gilpin needs me and while she insists she will never consent to marry the earl, I will stay with her. If, when we return to England, she is disposed to bow to her father’s advice, then I will, of course, leave her, my work done.’ He did not add how hard that would be. Not for a second would he contemplate telling Gilpin he outranked the earl and was easily able to maintain his daughter in the style he would wish, something he felt sure Lord Falsham could not do. His pride would not let him.
Edward summoned a servant to ask his wife to join them and while they waited, offered Alex a glass of Madeira. She appeared while they were drinking it.
‘Alex, my dear boy,’ she said, coming forward to take both his hands. ‘How are you? You look tired?’
He bowed. ‘I am well, madam, but, as you say, a little tired.’
‘How is Miss Gilpin?
‘Being well looked after by the nuns.’
‘You do not blame my husband for sending her there, do you? If she had been here when Lord Falsham called, it could have been very awkward.’
‘Yes, I understand. I have decided not to wait on Mr Gilpin. If he has written to Falsham, it must mean he does not intend to come out himself and I must take Miss Gilpin back to England. I came to enlist your help in buying clothes for her and finding a trustworthy lady to act as her maid and companion during the voyage.’
She smiled. ‘Is it not a little too late to worry about propriety, Alex? After all, she arrived without a maid.’
‘That was not her fault nor mine,’ he answered tersely. ‘She assures me the earl has not violated her and her virtue is intact. I would keep it that way.’
‘Why don’t you marry her yourself? You are not ineligible, are you?’
‘No, I am not, but now is not the time or place to make an offer, even if I were contemplating matrimony.’ He was reminded of the clumsy attempt he had made while Charlotte had been working for Rodrigues, telling her they could annul it when they returned to England and, when she turned him down, his angry rejoinder, that he would not ask her again. What a numbskull he had been!
‘No, perhaps you are right when there is a cloud hanging over you.’
‘A cloud, madam?’
‘Yes, Lord Falsham’s assertion you have kidnapped his bride and are holding her hostage for some imagined slight or other. He calls you an overgrown poppycock of a naval lieutenant and if you were a gentleman he would call you out and make you eat grass. It is all over town.’
‘I was afraid of that. Is anyone listening to him?’
‘His friends, who witnessed a contretemps between you and his lordship. He does have some support, not least from his servant, Madeleine Salvador.’
‘Good Lord! What has she been saying?’
‘That she rescued Miss Gilpin from your clutches and was keeping her safe, but you arrived and forcibly took her back.’
‘She is saying that to save face with the earl. I wonder how he found out what she had done? She was certainly anxious that I should not tell him.’
‘There is evidence from a Mr Grosswaite, too.’
‘He is one of the earl’s minions and the one who arranged Miss Gilpin’s abduction in London. If he ever shows his face in England again, it will go ill with him. I know his henchmen. They are murderers and thieves who escaped from Newgate and are being sought by the Piccadilly Gentlemen. I wrote and alerted Viscount Leinster as soon as I arrived here. No doubt he has them safely behind bars again and they will be persuaded to talk. The sooner I get back to London with Miss Gilpin, the better.’
‘I agree,’ Edward said. ‘But better leave her where she is until you are ready to go.’
‘Then how are we to buy clothes for her?’ his wife asked.
‘I shall have to guess her size,’ Alex said. He knew every inch of her, from her height, which was just below his chin, to the span of her waist and the curve of her breasts.
‘Then we will go shopping tomorrow. We will go in my carriage. I will have it ready for ten in the morning.’
‘Thank you.’
‘And I will make enquiries about a suitable maid for your journey.’
Alex thanked them and left the way he had come, ignoring the glowering of the footman.
* * *
It was Captain Carstairs who arrived promptly as ten the following morning. Lieutenant Fox in his rather untidy uniform and white wig was gone and in his place was a sea captain in a dark-blue coat, white breeches and snowy shirt, cravat and hose. His own dark hair was held in a queue with a black ribbon.
‘Oh, I am so glad you have thrown off that untidy disguise and that dreadful wig,’ Mrs Hay said when she saw him.
He smiled. ‘I decided it would be expedient to keep the Lieutenant and the Captain separate, ma’am. You would not want to be seen with Lieutenant Fox in view of Lord Falsham’s accusations. And it is as Captain Carstairs I mean to take Miss Gilpin home.’ He chuckled. ‘All very proper.’
‘Then let us go and do the shopping. I have made out a list of what Miss Gilpin will require.’
‘She has charged me not to be extravagant because there will be little opportunity for wearing finery on the voyage and she has plenty of clothes at home.’
‘Three gowns, I think,’ the lady said, as they sat side by side in the coach. ‘Two day gowns, perhaps of light wool for it will seem chilly on board after the heat of Lisbon, and an evening gown for dining with the captain. Then she will need stays and undergarments, nightgowns, hose and shoes, a cap and a hat for when you land in England, powder, rouge, toilet water...’
Alex laughed. ‘I am glad I have you with me, madam, I should never have thought of all that.’
‘It is a pity Miss Gilpin could not come with us,’ she said. ‘I have no idea what her preference is as to colours.’
‘I know what suits her,’ Alex said firmly. ‘She looks well in any colour, but blue and rose and pale lemon, I think, will do very well, and a little lace and ribbon, but not overly decorated.’
‘And her size?’
‘Her head comes to my chin when she is standing beside me and I can almost span her waist with my hands.’
‘Oh, Alex...’ she laughed
‘...I will not ask you how you know that.’
‘You forget I carried her from that dreadful room.’
‘So you did.’ She turned to look at him. ‘I think you are perhaps in love with Miss Gilpin.’
‘Who would not be?’ he said. ‘She is lovely, brave and altogether desirable.’
‘Have you told her so?’
‘No, I have not. Nor will I. There will be time enough for that when she is safely back with her father and he has given up the idea of persuading her to marry Falsham.’
‘Why does he want the match?’
‘For the title. He is determined she will marry a nobleman.’
‘But you outrank Falsham.’
‘Mr Gilpin does not know that.’
‘Alex, you are too proud for your own good.’
‘Perhaps. She is proud, too, you know.’
‘Then I should like to bang your heads together to knock some sense into them.’
He laughed because he knew she meant no harm. They had turned into the Rossio and stopped outside the shop where he had paid the earl’s account. ‘Is this where you told the driver to come?’
‘Yes, it is the best mantua maker in Lisbon and she will no doubt have some ready-made clothes which might suit. If not, her seamstresses work very swiftly and we can bespoke something.’
* * *
They spent a pleasant hour or two buying clothes and a large portmanteau to put them in, for which he paid in gold. He had hesitated when the mantua maker asked where they should be delivered. He did not want them sent to the convent, for fear word might get out that there was a lady staying there who needed fashionable clothes. ‘They can be sent to the Residency,’ Mrs Hay told him in an undertone.
‘No, for that would mean I would have to bring Charlotte to you to change into them and we might not have time for that, once the ship has dropped anchor. I will take them with me in the portmanteau to my lodgings, ready to take to her at the convent when the brig is ready to sail.’
When they left the shop he was carrying the portmanteau. He saw Mrs Hay into her carriage, bade her adieu and strode off towards his lodgings, which were in the opposite direction from her house.
* * *
He had eaten the meal Davy had prepared and then set off for the convent. He was looking forward to telling Charlotte how their plans were progressing and, with luck, they would be on board a ship bound for England the very next day. But he never reached her.
A black windowless carriage drew up beside him and two men jumped out and bundled him into it. He gave one startled yell before the door was shut and they moved off.
Chapter Eleven
Charlotte had spent most of the night sleeplessly going over and over every word Alex had said in the garden. She recalled the sweetness of his look, the gentleness of his hands as he clasped hers, his softly spoken words, all of which she savoured and clung on to like a drowning man clutching at straws. But there were other signs that disturbed her and made her sad: his sudden change of mood, as if she had said something to displease him; his springing to his feet and pacing about and his refusal to come into the anteroom when it rained. It was a public room, one that anyone visiting the convent could enter while their business was being dealt with. Instead he had preferred to go out into the storm.
But he said he would come again and they were going back to England together. Home. How sweet that word sounded! Perhaps, during the voyage, or even when they were back in London, he would come to realise how much he meant to her, that his lack of a title was unimportant and that what was important was the man he was, the man she loved to distraction. If she could make him see that, then he might tell her what she most wanted to hear. He must feel something for her or he would not have been at such pains to rescue her from the Salvadors and look after her. He had seen her naked, washed her body and wrapped her in a blanket and he had carried her in his arms to keep her safe. That was surely not the action of an uncaring man and more than he need have done to fulfil his mission for the Piccadilly Gentlemen.
He had asked her to marry him and immediately regretted it. Oh, how she wished she had not laughed at the idea. Laughter had covered her hurt that he could talk of marriage and annulment in the same breath, but it had been unkind of her and it had hurt him. When he came, she would have it out with him and see if she could make him understand that they belonged together and no one, not the Earl of Falsham, not her father, not distance, nor disparity in wealth, nor her own silly determination not to marry, would make the smallest difference. If he laughed at her, it would be no more than she deserved and she would have to try to bear her disappointment stoically. At least she would know the worst.
She was waiting for him by the pool the next afternoon, rehearsing in her mind what she would say. The rain had gone and the sky was blue again. The puddles had evaporated from the paths and the cobbles were once more bone dry. No vestige of the storm remained and the day was tranquil, though a little cooler than it had been. Sister Charity had said perhaps she ought to wait in the anteroom, but she wanted to be outside, to sit with him by the fountain and try to bring back the quiet rapport they had had before the storm blew up.
‘Very well,’ Sister had said, putting a shawl about her shoulders. ‘But you must come in at once if you grow chilled.’
She would not be cold surrounded by Alex’s warmth and had made her way out to the bench and sat down to wait. She sat there a very long time. He did not come. He did not come the next day either or the day after that. The ship he talked of must have sailed by now. So much for her grand plans to make him understand how her love for him would overcome all barriers, even those she had put up herself. How foolish she had been.
‘He would not leave Lisbon without you, Charlotte,’ Sister Charity said, on the third day when she persuaded her to leave her vigil and return indoors for her evening meal. ‘Something must have detained him.’
‘But if that were so, why has he not sent word?’
‘I do not know, my child, but you must have faith. All will turn out as God intends.’
‘Do you think God intended me to be so miserable?’
‘Adversity makes us stronger.’
‘It is not making me stronger. I grow weaker every day I am without him.’
‘Shall we go into the chapel after dinner and pray for him?’
She knew the good sister was trying to make her feel better when nothing but the sight of Alex would do that. Nevertheless, she agreed.
* * *
She walked into the garden the next afternoon, though her heart was heavy and she had almost given up hoping he would come. Instead of sitting by the pool she paced the paths, too distressed to sit still. It was as she turned at the end of the path to face the convent building a second time that she saw Sister Charity hurrying towards her accompanied by the British Minister’s wife. She started to run, knowing something must have happened to Alex, something dreadful.
‘Mrs Hay,’ she cried, stopping beside the pool. ‘What has happened? It’s Alex, isn’t it?’
‘Shall we sit down?’ Mrs Hay suggested.
Charlotte sat on the bench with the lady beside her. ‘Tell me what has happened? He’s not...not dead, is he?’
‘No, my dear, he is not dead. He has been arrested.’
‘Arrested? Whatever for?’
‘For kidnapping you.’
Charlotte began to laugh, a high-pitched nervous sound. ‘He didn’t kidnap me. Whatever gave anyone that idea?’
‘The Earl of Falsham. He has accused Alex of taking you from his protection. He is demanding Alex return you forthwith.’
‘No, oh, no. He won’t do it, will he?’
‘I am not sure what the Portuguese law is on the matter and I cannot ask my husband because he has gone to Queluz, the King’s
summer palace, and is not due back for another week, but Lord Falsham has a letter from your father, which he says confirms that you are betrothed to him.’
‘Lord Falsham is a fiend. I am not engaged to him and would never, never agree to it. Papa would not make me, I know he would not. I must go to the authorities and tell them so.’ She jumped up impatiently, but Mrs Hay took her hand and pulled her down again. ‘I do not advise that, my dear. While the Earl has no idea where you are, he will do nothing to Alex. If you show yourself, the Portuguese authorities might very well hand you back to the earl. It is important for you to stay hidden.’
‘But how can I, when Alex needs me? He risked everything to save me from the earl and I cannot bear the thought of him being in prison on my account.’
‘It is what he wishes, Charlotte.’
‘You have seen him?’
‘Yes. He was allowed to inform my husband what had happened and, in Edward’s absence, they allowed me speak to him. He has been arrested as Lieutenant Fox, but he is insisting he is not the lieutenant and they have arrested the wrong man. He maintains he is Captain Alexander Carstairs of the British Navy. I confirmed that, but they seem disinclined to believe me. I have no doubt Lord Falsham is lining someone’s pockets.’
‘Does the earl know him as Captain Carstairs?’
‘I do not think so.’
‘What can we do?’
‘We must wait until my husband returns. He will make representations to the Portuguese authorities that they have no right to imprison a British citizen.’
‘And they will let Alex go?’
‘I do not know. We must pray they do and that nothing delays my husband and he arrives before Alex is tried.’
‘The prosecution will surely have to prove he kidnapped me.’
‘Yes, but it could be said he did. He did take you from the Salvadors’ house.’
‘But he was rescuing me, not abducting me. And he was being Lieutenant Fox then.’
‘So he was, so they will have to prove Lieutenant Fox and Captain Carstairs are one and the same. That is one of the reasons why you must remain hidden. He begged me to impress that upon you.’
