‘That’s good,’ he returned slowly. ‘I don’t know how long it will take. We should be in France by the early hours of tomorrow morning, but we’re not sure what we’ll find. When Adèle sent the message, she and Kit were holed up in a farmhouse just south of Boulogne, but they may have been forced to move on.’
‘I understand.’
‘Oh, here is Tom now,’ said Miss Stock, as she caught sight of the Travis carriage rolling past the window. ‘Marianne . . . ’
‘Just coming, Miss Stock.’ Marianne turned to Lord Ravensford and said formally, ‘Thank you for a delightful weekend, my lord. It was most enjoyable.’
‘Thank you for coming, Miss Travis,’ he replied. Adding, ‘Oh, by the way, I’ve been meaning to thank you for allowing me to borrow Henri. It was good of you to let him come over here last night and lend a hand with the dinner. Mrs Hill is an excellent cook, but it’s the little French touches that lift a meal out of the ordinary, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Oh, quite,’ breathed Miss Stock, remembering the excellent meal.
‘Would you mind if I borrowed him for a few more days?’ Lord Ravensford asked Marianne. ‘I’d like him to teach Mrs Hill how to make some of my favourite French dishes.’
Realising he needed an excuse to take Henri away from the Hall for the next few days so that the Frenchman could go with him to France, Marianne said, ‘No, of course not. You’re very welcome.’
‘Thank you.’
Their leave taken, Marianne led Miss Stock out of the house. Once Miss Stock had been safely returned to the rectory, Marianne had time to think over her plan. She didn’t like deceiving anyone but her mind was made up. Julian had died because there had not been a doctor on hand when he had needed one, and Kit may be about to die for the same reason. But she did not intend to let that happen. She would have asked Dr Moffat to undertake the voyage if she had thought it would do any good, but she knew he would refuse, therefore she intended to go herself. She may not be a doctor, but she had a lot of experience in tending people who had had accidents on the estate, and had even seen a bullet removed when Tom had had an accident with his gun. She knew how to clean and bind serious wounds, and furthermore there were some laudanum drops in the medicine chest which she could use to ease Kit’s pain.
The carriage pulled up outside Seaton Hall.
‘Thank you, Tom,’ she said, sweeping into the house.
Now all she had to do was convince Trudie that she had been invited to visit the Cosgroves for a few days and her plan would begin to take shape.
‘There you are, Miss Marianne,’ said Trudie, coming towards her with a beaming face, for she was eager to hear all about Marianne’s enjoyable few days.
Marianne obliged her with an account of the party.
‘And I dare say you saw Henri there?’ asked Trudie. ‘Lord Ravensford sent for him yesterday. But still, you know all about that, I expect.’
Marianne agreed, and Trudie was satisfied. She was so impressed with Henri’s cooking herself that it did not seem strange to her that Lord Ravensford should want the chef to teach his cook how to make his favourite French meals, little suspecting that he had needed Henri to help him formulate a plan for Kit's rescue.
‘How has Papa been?’ asked Marianne.
‘Oh! Well enough. To tell you the truth, I don’t think he’s noticed you’ve gone.’
Marianne gave a sigh.
‘Now, don’t you take on so,’ said Trudie bracingly. ‘Your Papa is what he is. Well, your room’s all ready for you,’ she said more brightly as Marianne took off her cloak and bonnet. ‘After all the gaiety, you’ll be wanting a rest.’
‘Thank you, Trudie, but I won’t be staying long.’ Trudie looked at her in surprise, and she explained, ‘The party was so successful that Mr and Mrs Cosgrove have decided to host a gathering at their house, and I have said I will go.’
‘Ah!’ nodded Trudie trustingly; causing Marianne a twinge of guilt at her lie. ‘That’s a good idea. Once people get to enjoying themselves, they don’t want to stop. And why should they? You go, Miss Marianne. You’ve done enough work over the winter to run a colonel into the ground. You go and enjoy yourself. And don’t you worry about your Papa. If he asks for you, I’ll tell him you’ll be home by . . . . ?’
‘By the end of the week.’
Trudie nodded in satisfaction, glad Marianne was going to have a few more days of enjoyment.
But if she had known what Marianne was really going to do, she would have been up in arms.
‘Will you be wanting lunch, or are you going on to the Cosgroves’ straight away?’
‘I’ll have something to eat first – just something simple - and then when I’ve packed a few things I’ll be on my way.’
‘I’d better tell Tom to keep the carriage out.’
‘No, that won’t be necessary,’ said Marianne quickly. ‘I think I’d rather ride. It’s a lovely day, and as Mrs Cosgrove has kindly offered to lend me some of Susan’s dresses, I won’t need to take too many things – just a few personal items thrown into a small valise. I can take it with me, tied on to the saddle.’
Trudie nodded sagely. ‘She’s tired of seeing you in the same dresses day after day. You and Susan were always much of a size,’ she said, thinking of Susan, the Cosgroves’ married daughter, who now lived in Bath. ‘It will be the very thing.’
Marianne would rather not have compounded her large lie with a small one, but the stakes were so high that the lies, which at any other time would have troubled her, caused her no more than a moment’s guilt. She was determined to be on the ship when it set sail to rescue Kit, and inventing a party at the Cosgrove estate gave her the necessary excuse for being away for a few days.
Relieved that the first part of her plan had gone so smoothly, she allowed herself an hour’s rest and then, having had something to eat, she dressed in her riding habit and took a small valise out to her waiting mare.
‘You enjoy yourself,’ said Trudie as she waved Marianne off.
Marianne smiled, but as she rode away she said softly, under her breath, ‘I doubt it.’
Now that the first hurdle had been successfully cleared she turned her thoughts to what lay ahead. Following the road to begin with, she soon turned off onto a beaten track that made its way through open countryside parallel to the coast. She rode quickly and confidently, sure of where she was heading.
As children she and Kit had loved to mess about on the water. Their father had been a keen amateur sailor and had owned his own small craft. They had spent a lot of time in the neighbouring coves and quays, and had come to know most of the ships and their crews, so that when Marianne had heard Lord Ravensford mention the name of Captain Gringe, she had begun to consider the possibility of stowing away on his ship. The Returner was a craft she knew very well, and there was a perfect place where she could hide, at least until the ship was safely on its way to France. But she had much to do before she could go on board.
Arriving at the small harbour, which lay some ten miles west of Seaton Hall, she proceeded to the blacksmith’s. Jim Smith was hard at work, his hammer rising and falling as he shoed a cart-horse. Marianne dismounted, sliding to the ground without help. She had grown used to managing this somewhat difficult task alone since the servants at the Hall had become depleted. She stood patiently holding her mare’s head until he had finished.
Jim wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm, then turned towards her. ‘Mornin’, miss, what can I – why, if it isn’t Miss Marianne!’ His round face beamed as he saw her.
‘Hello, Jim.’ She smiled in return.
‘It’s a long time since we’ve seen you in these parts – we haven’t seen you since . . . Oo, not since your Pa gave up the yacht.’ His face fell as he realised he had been tactless, for Mr Travis had given up the yacht shortly after his wife’s death. ‘What brings you here, Miss Marianne?’
Marianne hesitated. She could not tell Jim what had really brought her to
the harbour but she did not like lying. She had been forced to lie to Trudie, but with Jim she hoped to be able to get away with making a vague answer; he was not likely to think it his business to ask any awkward questions.
‘I need to stable my mare until Friday,’ she said. ‘For reasons I can’t go into, I can’t leave her at the Hall.’
‘Why, that’s no problem. I can keep her here for you ’til then.’
‘I was hoping you would say that, Jim. Thank you. And Jim . . . ’
‘Yes, miss?’
‘I’d rather no one else knew about this. From the Hall, I mean.’
Jim grinned. ‘A surprise is it, Miss Marianne? Well, I don’t know what you’re planning, but your secret’s safe with me.’
Relieved that Jim had assumed she was planning to surprise someone – to give them the mare as a present, perhaps – she gave him a handful of coins. ‘To feed her,’ she explained. ‘And there is one other thing. If by any chance I haven’t come to claim her by Friday, can you see that this letter is delivered to the Hall?’
Jim wiped his hands down the front of his leather apron before taking it.
‘The letter will make sure the mare is collected by someone else, if for any reason I can’t come.’
And it will tell them everything, in the event something happens and I don’t return, she thought.
‘Just as you say, Miss Marianne. I’ll get my boy to take it over Friday if you don’t manage to get here yourself.’
‘Thank you, Jim.’
With that task done, Marianne took a walk round the small town that clustered round the harbour. She purchased some basic items of food to take with her onto the ship and then retired to the church until it was dark.
When the light had faded, she left the church and made her way down to the quay, where half a dozen ships were tied up. With a quick look over her shoulder to make sure that she was not being observed, went aboard The Returner. Knowing the ship as she did, she knew that the Captain’s cabin had a large cupboard at one end which was now almost empty. The Captain had had it put in for the benefit of his wife, who had accompanied him on his shorter trips in years gone by, and had needed it for her clothes. But she was bedridden now, and the cupboard was unused. Or had been, last time Marianne had been on board.
She made her way into the cabin. Sure enough, the cupboard, which had been made by partitioning off the end of the cabin, was still there, and apart from a tattered cloak, a broken telescope and dusty pile of ropes it was empty.
She knew it would not keep her hidden for long, because on a ship of this size total concealment would be impossible, but if she could just escape detection until the ship was too far out to turn back then she would be satisfied.
She settled herself as comfortably as she could. Then there was nothing to do but wait.
* * * *
It was shortly after ten o’clock that the crew came on board. Marianne heard a snatch of song and some ripe laughter as the men walked up the gangplank, and then she heard Captain Gringe calling out instructions as the men passed to and fro overhead, carrying out their allotted tasks.
It seemed to be an age before they finally cast off but at last, with a flapping of sails and a creaking of timber, the ship began to move. Marianne felt its rolling progress as it made headway, rounding the coast and heading towards the Billingsdale estate.
Once the ship was moving, Marianne’s greatest fear was that Captain Gringe would retire to his cabin and by some mischance discover she had stowed away, but the night was fine, and he remained on deck.
So far, so good, she thought to herself.
It was not long before the ship’s regular motion ceased. She felt a lurch, and knew that the anchor had been dropped. They were just off the Billingsdale estate, then, and Lord Ravensford would soon be coming aboard.
As long as he, too, decided to remain on deck she should be safe from detection until she decided to make her presence known.
She had thought it through all day. Sooner or later she would have to let Lord Ravensford know that she was on board, for she could hardly tend to Kit’s wounds if no one knew she was there. But when to reveal herself? When they reached France? She shook her head. If she did that, Lord Ravensford’s anger may well delay the rescue of her brother. It must be sooner, then: soon enough to let Lord Ravensford recover from the shock of finding her on board before he had to set out in the rowing boat for France.
It would take all of her courage, but she knew that, as soon as it was too late for the ship to turn back, she must walk onto the deck. And be prepared to face the inevitable storm of disapproval that would greet her.
In the event, however, her hand was forced.
It was a still night, and after hearing Lord Ravensford's party climb on board Marianne felt the ship begin to move again. She re-settled herself in the cupboard, and after a while risked opening the door a crack. It relieved some of the stuffiness, and gave her a little light. It was too early to reveal her presence, so she ate a little more of the bread and fruit she had bought in the village. She was just wiping the crumbs from her skirt when there as a scuttling noise and she started up in horror: there was a rat. She hated rats. She backed out of the cupboard, shuddering, just as one of the crew came into the cabin, holding a lantern aloft. In the strange and ghostly light he saw Marianne and let out a cry. Marianne jumped, the crewman swore under his breath, and then, grabbing her by the arm, said, ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
‘What’s taking you so long?’ came the Captain’s voice from above.
Pushing Marianne roughly in front of him, the crewman forced her up the stairs and on to the deck.
The moon was up, large and round, and the sky was lit with stars.
‘What the devil –’ exclaimed Lord Ravensford.
‘So.’ Captain Gringe’s voice was icily calm. ‘It seems we have a stowaway.’
‘Damn it, Marianne, I should have known you’d given in too easily,’ swore Lord Ravensford. He glared at her, then, looking at the Captain he said, ‘Turn the ship around.’
But a half-smile had appeared on the Captain’s face. Marianne felt some of the tension leave her. Captain Gringe had recognised her.
‘I said turn the ship around,’ said Lord Ravensford again.
‘I give the orders on my ship,’ said Captain Gringe politely, but with a voice of steel. ‘Now then, Miss Marianne, why don’t you tell me what you’re doing on The Returner? She hasn’t seen you for many a year.’
Marianne smiled in relief. His tone was friendly, and it was clear he remembered her with affection, as she remembered him.
‘You know where we are going?’ she asked.
He nodded thoughtfully. ‘I know where. But not why.’
‘That’s none of your business,’ growled Lord Ravensford.
‘If you want me to put Miss Marianne off the ship it is,’ he replied calmly.
‘We’re going to rescue Kit.’ Marianne’s words were simple, but conveyed a deep feeling nonetheless.
‘Ah.’ Captain Gringe was thoughtful. ‘So that’s it.’
‘These men are Kit’s friends,’ said Marianne. ‘But Kit is hurt and he may need medical attention. Which is why I need to be here when he comes on board.’
The Captain nodded thoughtfully.
‘Turn the ship around,’ said Lord Ravensford again. ‘France is no place for Mari – Miss Travis.’
Captain Gringe looked at him evenly. ‘I can’t do that.’
‘We’ve barely left England –’
‘But if we go back we’ll miss the tide.’
Marianne had the feeling that he was making an excuse, and that Captain Gringe was on her side. ‘Damn it, Gringe –’
‘Accept it, Luke,’ said Henri from the bow of the ship.
‘Like hell.’ He turned to Marianne. ‘You and I have some talking to do. But not here. Downstairs.’
Marianne almost refused. But then, knowing that an argument was to follow, decided
she would rather not have it in front of the crew. ‘Very well.’
She turned and led the way down the wooden stairs and into the cabin. Lord Ravensford followed, hanging his lantern on the hook in the ceiling.
‘What the devil do you think you are doing?’ he demanded angrily. ‘Sneaking on board, stowing away. This isn’t some kind of game.’
‘I know that,’ she flashed.
‘Oh, do you?’ His face was grim.
She refused to answer him angrily. If she did that, the argument would escalate, and she didn’t want that to happen. Not with Captain Gringe and Henri and Figgs, to say nothing of the crew, only a few floorboards away. ‘I haven’t done this lightly,’ she said with forced calm, ‘but I had to do it. There was no other way you would have let me come on board.’
‘With good reason. You were told to –’
‘Told?’ she demanded, her good resolutions in danger of flying out of the door. ‘Told? My brother needs me. Do you seriously suppose that, in these circumstances, I am going to do as I am told?’
‘Damn it, Marianne –’
‘I love Kit,’ she declared. ‘I am not going to sit idly at home whilst he may be dying for need of medical care. If I could have sent a doctor on the expedition I would have done, but I don’t know any doctor who would have been prepared to come. I may not be a doctor, but I have a lot of experience of dealing with accidents and illnesses. I know how to clean Kit’s wounds if they have not already been properly cleaned, how to deal with fever, and how to build him up if he has lost a lot of blood. Can you really expect me to do as I’m told?’
He looked at her for long seconds, then the vehemence left his eyes and there was only tenderness there instead.
Somehow, she was afraid of his tenderness, and had a premonition of what he was going to say. She felt an inward shudder.
‘Has it ever occurred to you,’ he said softly, ‘that Kit may already be dead?’
She closed her eyes, and her shoulders slumped. It had occurred to her, but she had refused to think about it. She could not afford to.
She felt his hand reaching out to her; strong and supportive. It gave her the courage to speak. ‘Yes. It has occurred to me.’
Anything But a Gentleman Page 13
