‘I have and it is shocking!’ said the landlord. ‘I don’t hold with no violence,’ he said. ‘Never have. And taking a young lady like that—’ He shook his head in disgust.
Jem refrained from pointing out that the bruises he had seen covering the small child would be described as violence. ‘So you have not heard any information which might help us recover her?’
‘Nothing.’ The landlord leaned closer and spoke in a hushed tone. ‘And I usually know about everything that is going on. But this? Not a word!’
He straightened, spying Will, who had just returned. ‘Did you tell her?’ Will nodded furiously. ‘Now, go and help in the kitchen. How is that stew coming along?’ He ushered Will towards the back door. A sudden impulse made Jem speak.
‘Just a moment.’
The landlord stopped, his hand still resting on Will’s shoulder. ‘Yes, sir?’
‘Might I have a word with the boy?’
‘Of course you might!’ The landlord attempted a smile, revealing a set of teeth in various shades of yellow, brown and black. ‘Will, you mind your manners, now! Don’t let him give you no sauce, now, Sir,’ he told Jem. ‘These parish boys oft times forget their place.’
Will approached them, looking anxious, while the landlord retreated behind his taps. Jem gave the child what he hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘Will, were you the boy I saw outside this tavern the other day?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Do you remember the other young lady who was with us—the one with dark hair?’
The boy nodded.
‘She has disappeared and we want to find her again. Do you know anything about that?’
‘No, sir.’ Will was wide-eyed and anxious, but seemed to be telling the truth. Jem’s heart sank with disappointment. He was hoping against hope that a boy like Will, all eyes and ears, might have seen or heard something.
‘Ah, not to worry. Never mind.’
‘I’m sorry, sir. If I’d seen your young lady I’d tell you. But I ain’t seen nothing.’
‘Tell me, Will, do you like living here?’
Will shrugged. ‘Sometimes. There’s always stew and bread, sometimes I get bits of chicken and ham when there’s some left over. And sometimes Gunn lets me look after his horse. I know it’s got a peculiar-looking face and all, but I like it better than Gunn does.’
Jem stilled. His body prickled all over with sudden awareness. ‘What’s peculiar about Gunn’s horse’s face?’
‘It’s brown and white, see, and its face is mostly white, but it’s got these two brown patches over its eyes that look like—’
‘Eyebrows!’ finished Jem.
‘Yes!’ Will’s face lit up. ‘Have you seen it, sir? You don’t think it’s peculiar, do you?’
‘Not at all.’ Jem’s heart was beating quickly and he could see Lizzie looking at him curiously. Using all his self-control, he kept his voice natural. ‘Tell me, does this Mr Gunn have a cart?’
‘No. Well, yes, but it’s Carson’s cart,’ he said with a nod towards the landlord. ‘Gunn owns the horse, see, and Carson owns the cart. They always argue about it, cos Gunn says he’s allowed to use Carson’s cart to do jobs of his own, cos Carson gets Gunn’s horse to pick up his stuff.’
‘Jobs of his own... I see... Tell me, where does Gunn live?’
‘Here. There’s an old building out the back. Used to be a house. Now it’s more like a stable. Gunn stores stuff in the cellars and sleeps up above.’
‘Does he really? And where is Gunn right now?’
‘He’s out back. Sally needs potatoes for the stew. He’s gone to get some from his cellar.’ Will leaned forward, tapping his temple with his finger. ‘He’s enormous, but he’s not right in the head, you know.’
Jem could barely contain himself. He managed to sound reasonably composed as he patted the boy on the shoulder. ‘Thank you, Will. That was very interesting. Now, I need to speak privately with the ladies for a moment, so I would like you to stand over there, and then I want you to show me Gunn’s cellars. Is that all right?’ Will nodded, and walked across to the fireplace. Carson, who had been watching the exchange with keen interest, did not call him.
‘What’s going on?’ hissed Lizzie. ‘Is Olivia in the cellar here, do you think?’
‘It’s possible. There was a horse and cart like the one Will described outside the coffee shop yesterday.’ Amy gasped. ‘The question is, does Carson know about it? And Sally? Or—assuming Olivia is actually here—is Gunn working alone?’
‘There’s no way of knowing.’ Hope blazed in the ladies’ eyes. Jem recognised it, for he was feeling the same desperate hope in his own heart. They had to be wary though.
‘I am going to see if she is there. Be careful—especially with Carson!’ He stood.
‘Never mind us—you should be careful! Should we fetch Adam and Harry?’
Jem nodded. ‘If I do not return in ten minutes, get out of here—make any excuse you like—and go fetch them!’
Lizzie looked frightened. ‘Very well. But I don’t want you to take any—’
‘Tea, my ladies!’ It was a woman who must be Sally, holding a tin tray containing two china cups. Her heavy perfume wafted over Jem and he had to stop himself from allowing his revulsion to show on his face.
‘Thank you,’ said Lizzie. ‘Might we have a word with you?’ She patted the space next to her.
Sally looked pleased. ‘Of course you might! Though I think I know what it is you wish to discuss. At least three people have told me about the disappearance of the young lady!’ She sat, rearranging her voluminous skirts and leaning forward slightly so as to give Jem a better view of her bosom.
Sally dropped her voice, speaking conspiratorially to the ladies. ‘There is something I should like to say to you. But it is...er...rather delicate...’ Her voice tailed off. She looked at Jem who excused himself and walked towards Will. Straining his ears to unashamedly eavesdrop, he heard some of Sally’s question to Lizzie. She was asking if there was any possibility that Olivia had eloped.
He almost laughed. There was no possibility whatsoever, as he well knew. Olivia had showed no partiality for any man, including himself. He frowned. That wasn’t true. She had shown partiality for Manning, but she certainly had not eloped with him!
Crouching down beside the boy, who looked rather frightened, he spoke kindly to him. ‘You have done nothing wrong, Will. In fact, you have been most helpful. Now! Lead me to Gunn’s cellars!’
* * *
Olivia stood, swaying slightly, beside the locked door. Her abductor was tugging on it and banging it loudly with his fists, but the door remained closed. She looked about her. She seemed to be in a dilapidated one-room cottage. There were signs that someone lived there—a grimy pallet lay in one corner, there was an old chair and a table with a candle and a beer mug on it, and a coat hung over the back of the chair.
Why had he done it? Money, she thought. He was probably trying to extort payment from her family for her return.
She did not know how long the door would hold against Gunn’s attacks. He was a huge man and probably very strong, and the door was likely a hundred years old. She must escape as quickly as she could! Somehow, though, she was struggling to move.
Her spirit was strong, but it was clear that her body was still feeling the effects of the blow to her head, followed by getting soaked to the skin. Instinctively she was aware that if she tried to move too quickly, she might end up fainting and completely losing her chance to escape. Fighting her instinct to run, she walked slowly and carefully through the cottage.
The door lay open and she paused there for a moment, scanning her surroundings. The cottage stood in a small yard behind a two-storey building, with other buildings all around. There was a stable to her right and she could see the rear of a brown-and-white horse inside. Across the yard, directly
in front of her, was the door to a large building and nearby an archway leading to the street. To freedom.
To her horror, as she stood there, the back door to the building opened. Her mind had now become overwhelmed with fear and so she found herself unable to think, or move, or act. Escaping from the cellar had taken every ounce of strength from her. She was done.
In dull shock, she saw the small boy from the other day come through the door. He was speaking to someone behind him. ‘It’s just across the yard, sir.’ Then he frowned. ‘What’s that awful banging and yelling noise?’
Olivia gripped the door frame with both hands. She had been so close to escaping!
‘Olivia!’ Jem’s voice reached her ears and reverberated through her body, mind and heart. The boy was ignored as Jem bounded across the yard. Olivia’s heart leapt as she tried to take in what was happening. It was Jem!
Reaching her, he scanned her face, then opened his arms and enveloped her in them. Taking in the clean smell of him and the warmth of his chest against her, Olivia sighed in relief. Her head fitted neatly in the hollow of his shoulder and his strong arms were encircling her protectively. Through his clothes, she could feel the rapid pounding of his heart.
Jem! While she would have been delighted to be rescued by anyone, the fact that it was Jem seemed, in that moment, perfection. Needing to see his face, she lifted her head and looked at him. His expression was a mix of anguish, elation and relief. He gazed into her eyes, then, with a strangled sound, bent his head and kissed her.
Chapter Twelve
Olivia was lost in wonder. Jem’s lips were firm and warm and were creating the most pleasant sensations she had ever experienced. Desire exploded in her body, surprising in its intensity. She returned the kiss with enthusiasm and instinctively pressed closer to him. He groaned against her mouth, and his arms tightened even more around her.
How long they kissed, Olivia did not know. The world around them faded to a far distance. The only reality was Jem and the fact that he was kissing her. Now he was planting tiny kisses all over her face, her cheeks, her forehead, her closed eyelids. He paused and she opened her eyes. What she saw in his gaze made her heart swell. He was looking at her as if she was precious to him. She had never known such happiness as in that moment.
‘Olivia!’ he murmured. ‘Oh, Olivia! I thought you were lost, gone for ever! I worried that I might not ever see you again!’
Olivia found her voice. ‘I confess I worried the same thing. When I woke in that cellar, I did not know what would become of me.’
Jem lifted his hand and gently stroked her face. Olivia turned her head to lean into his caress. His hand strayed to her chin and he tilted it up for her to receive his kiss. This time the kiss was feather-soft, reverential. She opened her eyes again. Slow smiles grew on both their faces.
An almighty crash distracted them both. ‘If he isn’t careful, he’ll break his hands on that door!’ said Olivia testily, then laughed slightly at the absurdity of it all.
‘What have you done with him?’
‘I locked him in,’ said Olivia proudly.
‘You did what?’ Jem looked astounded. ‘You locked him in? But how? I mean—I’m told he’s enormous!’
‘He might be enormous, but he isn’t very clever, is he?’ As she spoke, a wave of reaction overcame her and, once again, the world turned black.
* * *
Jem caught her as she fell. ‘Will!’ he called out. ‘Bring the other ladies! Now!’ He looked around for somewhere to place Olivia, but there was nowhere. He certainly wasn’t bringing her back into the cottage where she had been held. So he carried her towards the tavern. Olivia’s face was white as paper and she felt light and insubstantial in his arms.
Lord, he hoped that nothing serious ailed her! At first glance, he had seen that her hair was filled with dried blood. From his army days he knew that even small head wounds bled profusely, but knew also that they could be fatal. Was he to find her, only to lose her again? His blood ran cold at the thought. As he reached the back door Will was already there again, Lizzie and Amy running behind him. Sally was following, too, her face creased with what looked like genuine puzzlement.
‘Oh, Jem, you have found her! How wonderful!’ Lizzie’s voice was replete with relief.
Jem could not respond—all his attention was focused on Olivia. He brushed past the women, into the back hallway of the tavern. He looked at Sally. ‘Lead us to a private parlour!’ he barked.
Will dived around Jem and opened a door further down the hall. Jem carried Olivia inside. Placing her gently on a couch, he knelt down beside her. Smoothing a loose curl back from her face, he looked at her anxiously. Strangely, his brain would not tell him what he must do next.
Vaguely, he became aware that Sally was talking. There was a great deal of emotion in it, but the essence was that she had no idea that the young lady was there and that perhaps she had accidentally got locked in somewhere.
Unexpectedly, it was Will who challenged this. ‘Gunn locked her in his cellar. She said so.’
Sally gasped ‘No! I never thought he would do something like this!’ She clasped her chest dramatically. ‘To think we have had such a viper in our bosom! But, are you sure, Will? We all know that Gunn is beef-witted, so maybe he locked her in by accident. Oh, the poor young lady!’
Jem, concerned that Olivia was showing no signs of revival, took charge. ‘Lady Olivia has collapsed. We need a doctor, urgently. And someone must fetch her brothers.’
‘Of course, of course! Carson shall fetch the doctor, and Will—go you to the Goat’s Head and fetch the lady’s brothers!’ She left in a flurry, ushering Will before her.
Amy collapsed into one of the chairs, overcome with emotion. Lizzie, looking determined, dropped to her knees beside Jem. Picking up one of Olivia’s hands, she rubbed it gently. ‘All will be well, Jem. You have found her and she will be well.’
He nodded, outwardly calm. But his heart was pounding and all he could think of was the ordeal Olivia must have suffered. He could see her head wound. What other damage had that monster, Gunn, inflicted?
‘Lizzie.’ He spoke quietly, for her ears only. She sat back, the better to see him. ‘Gunn had Olivia in that cellar in his cottage all night. He may have done unspeakable things to her.’ His voice faltered. Lizzie, realising what he meant, gasped. He saw all the colour leach from her face.
‘Oh, Jem, no!’
He gripped her two hands in his own. ‘We must consider the possibility. As well as needing the doctor to see to her head wound, it might be helpful if a woman were to ask her certain questions.’
She nodded. ‘I understand that. But I am not a married woman, so—’ She broke off, faltering.
‘Perhaps Charlotte or Juliana could do it?’
‘Yes—of course! I shall mention it to them.’
Silence fell. Jem, having spoken his worries aloud, now began to think through the implications of what he had just said. What if, in fact, Gunn had attacked Olivia in that way? The rage which coursed through him at the thought was like a wall of fire.
By God, if Gunn has harmed her so, then he will not live long enough to face trial!
Deliberately, carefully, he damped down his anger. It would not do to focus on it right now. Distantly, he could hear Gunn continue his shouting and thumping on the door. The priority was to see to Olivia.
Turning away from Lizzie, he looked to Olivia again. She looked calm, restful. It would be easy to pretend that she simply slept and that all was well. Lord, he thought, how beautiful she is! It was hard to imagine that anyone could deliberately harm her.
She had just been through a terrifying ordeal. Somehow she had found the strength to not only survive it, but to escape her prison and even defeat her captor. Jem was accustomed to appreciating her lively mind, her kind heart and her beautiful face. Now he also had direct eviden
ce of her strength and courage. Surely there was no woman in the world like her!
Another thought came to him. That kiss! At the time, he had acted purely on instinct. Seeing Olivia in the cottage doorway, alive, had been the miracle he had been praying for. Overwhelmed by relief, he had not been thinking straight and so had kissed her. Repeatedly.
Part of him gloried in the memory. The intense desire he felt for her, fuelled in that moment by her enthusiastic response to him. The sensation of her body pressed close to his. The taste of her. He would relive it many, many times in his memory.
But, now that his brain was beginning to function again, he realised that kissing her had been a huge error of judgement. All of the reasons why he had not pursued her four years ago remained. She was sister to an earl. Her brothers trusted him to behave honourably towards her. She now saw him as a friend. And now he had risked that friendship, through his base impulses.
But she responded to you, an inner voice urged. Perhaps she, too, has wished for something more than friendship.
As tempting as it was to believe this, he dared not and so reluctantly dismissed the notion. The truth was that he had swooped on her at a time of great vulnerability. Escaping from an ordeal, his was the first friendly face Olivia had seen. Of course her reactions would not be normal!
His mind made the logical jump—he had abused her! By taking advantage of her at such a moment, he had betrayed her trust and his own code of honour. A gentleman did not do such things.
Part of him knew that his mind was overset, his thoughts chaotic after the events of the past day and particularly the past half-hour. But as his mind spiralled into dark thoughts of what Gunn might have done, compounded by confusion and guilt, he could not stomach his own thoughts. Rising from the floor, he lurched for the door and made his way to the yard, where he was violently sick. Thankfully, Lizzie and Amy did not follow him.
Gunn continued to shout through the locked door. ‘Let me out!’ he pleaded. ‘I cannot bear being trapped!’
The Makings of a Lady Page 11