Perhaps Olivia was even falling in love with Manning. His chest clenched in reaction to the idea. He had forced himself to ask Lizzie. ‘Do you think,’ he had said casually, ‘that Olivia has developed a tendre for Manning?’
His sister had been unable to offer him any reassurance. ‘In truth, I cannot read either of them,’ she had concluded. ‘It may simply be a flirtation, or it may be that something more serious is building between them.’
Something more serious. Lizzie’s words came back to him now and he felt the same stabbing sensation he had felt before. What if, in fact, Olivia had developed feelings for Manning? He wanted her to have everything she desired, of course he did. He just struggled to imagine that Manning would care for her happiness.
Really, he thought with renewed anger, Manning took a shocking liberty by kissing her. Although, he conceded ruefully, it was no more than he had done himself. Ah, but I care about her, he thought fiercely. Manning does not. There cannot be true feelings on Manning’s side. He is simply not capable of it.
A new thought struck him. What if Manning was simply playing games? What if the man hurt Olivia?
Jem’s jaw set. If that man dares to cause Olivia any pain, why, I will—
‘Jem! Quit scowling and pass me my reticule!’ Lizzie’s voice brought him back to reality. The carriage had pulled up in the stable yard of the Goat’s Head and the ladies were being helped out of the carriage by the groom. Grabbing the reticule from the seat opposite, he jumped down from the carriage.
Chapter Fifteen
The tavern looks different, thought Olivia. Although it had been less than two weeks since her abduction and escape, it felt like a hundred years. In her memory, the tavern had been dark, gloomy and forbidding. Today, in the bright daylight, it looked like any other rundown tavern in any of a hundred towns. She felt strangely disconnected from it, as if there were, somewhere nearby, another tavern that looked a little like this one, but bigger, and darker, and scarier. The ladies had gone ahead to the dressmaker’s, but she had insisted on accompanying Jem and her brothers back to the tavern.
She was intensely conscious of Jem. Her feelings for him, once acknowledged, seemed to have entirely taken possession of her. They were sited somewhere between her chest and her stomach, she decided, and burned like a brazier within her. She was alive when he was near and anxious—in different ways—whether he was near or not.
Drawing her attention back to the present, she realised that the men had paused to allow her to lead the way. Avoiding the front door of the tavern, they walked under the archway and through the yard. The cottage was unlocked. Silently they continued inside, through the untidy room to the cellar door. Jem’s expression was grim, his mouth set in a hard line as he prepared to re-enter the place that had been Olivia’s prison. Seeing it, Olivia knew she could face the cellar again. This time, she would not be alone. Her brothers were with her, and Jem.
Adam took the key from his pocket and unlocked the door, while Harry lit a candle. In single file, they walked down the dusty stairs, along the corridor and into the potato cellar.
It was a tight squeeze. Harry held the candle high so that they could all see the space.
‘Damn it!’ said Adam. ‘It is even smaller than I remember. What sort of creature locks a lady in a hole like this?’
‘A coward,’ said Jem, his voice taut with anger.
‘I opened the latch from the inside,’ said Olivia, remembering her terror as her fingers once again ran over the mechanism. She moved to the corridor, almost dreamily retracing her steps. ‘I hid behind that door. I found a chair leg—I was going to hit him with it. Then I heard him pass the door and I knew I had to make a run for it.’
‘However did you do it?’ Adam sounded grim.
‘I did it because I had to,’ Olivia said simply. ‘One does not know what one is capable of, until the moment when you are forced to act.’
‘Soldiers know,’ said Jem. His voice sounded flat, as if he was struggling to suppress emotion. Olivia’s heart swelled at this evidence of his compassion. He cared about her, she knew he did. Just not enough.
‘I was just thinking the same thing,’ said Harry. ‘Soldiers do know. Young ladies, however, should not be forced into such knowledge.’
‘Let us get out of here,’ said Adam roughly. ‘We’ve seen enough.’
Silently, they followed Harry up the stairs.
‘The coat has disappeared.’ Harry was indicating the chair. ‘Either Carson has purloined it, or Gunn has returned for his things.’
‘He took his horse, too.’ They all turned around sharply. It was Will, in the doorway, sporting a new bruise on his left cheek. Olivia heard Jem gasp. He stepped forward and spoke kindly to the boy.
‘When was Gunn here, Will?’
‘Dunno.’ He looked wary. He was clearly frightened.
‘Very well. When did you notice the horse was gone?’
‘Dunno.’
Jem spoke quietly to him. ‘Today? Last week?’
Will just stared at him. Jem crouched down beside the child. ‘Will, do you remember me?’
Will nodded. ‘Of course I do! You found the lady—’ he indicated Olivia ‘—who was in the potato cellar. And you—’ He broke off, looking from Jem to Olivia and back again. With sudden alarm, Olivia realised the child was about to mention the kiss he had witnessed in this very spot!
‘Yes, well,’ said Jem quickly, ‘that’s enough. You do remember me. And you know that I mean you no harm.’
Will eyed him evenly. Olivia, feeling as though she and everyone else were holding their breath, almost sensed the moment when the boy decided that he trusted Jem. He nodded slowly.
‘Yes.’
‘That’s right. And now I need your help.’ The boy nodded again. ‘We want to find Gunn and to work out who was paying him to kidnap Lady Olivia. You are not in trouble—not in any way.’
Will tilted his head to one side, considering, and then the truth came out in a rush. ‘Carson said I should have been listening, should have come to get him. But I couldn’t, I swear! He’d have done for me! And he took his horse.’
This was not particularly clear. Jem, with endless patience, kept his voice low and measured. ‘You knew he would come back for the horse.’
The child nodded again. ‘He always said how it was his own horse, not Carson’s. But he didn’t care for it—not like I cared for it! I love horses, me.’
Olivia felt a lump in her throat. Will sounded upset at the loss of Gunn’s strange-looking horse. Moving towards the child, she, too, crouched down beside him.
‘Will, can you tell me how this happened?’ She indicated the bruise on his cheek. Here was definitive evidence that Will was being abused.
‘Carson made me sleep out here, waiting for Gunn. I was supposed to come and get him when Gunn came.’ He indicated the pallet in the corner of the room. ‘I woke up one night and Gunn was already here, in the dark. He was saying things to himself—he was angry.’
Jem and Olivia exchanged a worried glance. ‘Did Gunn beat you?’
Will’s eyes opened wide. ‘No! I was too afeared to move! He’d have killed me for sure! He took his coat and then went out for the horse. He didn’t see me. I was as still as a stone.’
Olivia’s heart melted. ‘Oh, you poor thing!’ She knew from direct experience how it felt to be in Gunn’s power. The child must have been terrified. She put a hand on his thin shoulder. He winced. She removed her hand and exchanged a worried look with Jem.
Slowly, giving Will plenty of time to resist, Jem moved the fabric of Will’s thin shirt off his shoulder, revealing another, very large bruise. He swallowed. ‘Are there any more?’
Wordlessly, Will lifted his shirt. His torso was a mess of bruises, of varying sizes and colours.
‘Who did this?’ Jem’s voice was hard. Olivia suspect
ed she already knew the answer.
‘Carson.’ Will let his shirt fall back into place.
‘Is Carson your father?’
‘No. I’m an orphan and he says I’m lucky he gives me a roof over my head.’
‘Why did he beat you? Was he involved in Lady Olivia being locked up?’
The boy shook his head vigorously. ‘He beat me to tell him who Gunn was working with. I kept telling him I dunno! I dunno! He didn’t believe me. Said Gunn was too stupid to do something like that by hisself.’
Jem straightened, giving a hand up to Olivia as he did so. ‘He could be right there.’
‘So he told me I wasn’t allowed to sleep in the house again until Gunn came back. He wanted to find out from Gunn who was paying him. Said he didn’t hold with fleecing the gentry. Too dangerous, he said.’
Adam intervened. ‘What was Gunn saying, when he came in for his coat?’
Will’s eyes widened, as he looked at Harry and Adam. The force of all those eyes trained on him seemed to flummox him.
He shook his head. ‘Nothing. I dunno.’
Olivia laid a gloved hand gently on the boy’s arm. ‘Be easy. You do not have to answer any more questions.’
‘No. I want to help.’ His small face creased in concentration. ‘It was a vicar or priest that done it, he said. He was going to find him in the park and make sure he gets paid. He said it was supposed to be easy and a swell keeps their word.’
‘Which was it, a vicar or a priest?’ Adam asked.
Will’s voice rose shrilly. ‘I dunno! One of them church coves! I dunno who they all are!’
Olivia wrapped her arms around the child. ‘Hush! You do not have to tell us anything more.’ Gently, she smoothed the hair back from his brow. ‘You are a brave lad.’
Her heart melted as she embraced Will’s small thin body. She could not bear to leave him here, with Carson.
Over Will’s shoulder, her eyes met Jem’s. She murmured his name, her voice a plea.
He nodded grimly.
‘Good day, good day to you!’ Carson was making his way across the yard, wiping his hands on the corner of his grimy apron. He bowed to them all, before enquiring generally as to their state of health. They all murmured appropriate platitudes.
He turned to Olivia. ‘And how is the lady? Quite recovered, I hope?’
‘Much better, thank you,’ Olivia confirmed shortly.
‘Good, good.’ He rubbed his hands together and turned to Adam. ‘My lord, I assure you again that I had nothing to do with this. Since it happened I have been doing my damnedest—pardon the language, my lady—doing my best to discover who Gunn was in league with. But I have run aground and finished short of a leg! Even the boy has seen nothing.’
Jem looked grim. ‘Er...about the boy—might I have a private word with you?’
Carson grimaced. ‘If he has been giving you sauce, I am sorry for it. I shall clip his ear later!’
‘I haven’t given no sauce!’ said Will indignantly, flushing with anger. ‘I have been only polite and answering questions.’ Olivia was encouraged to see that, so far, Carson had not broken Will’s spirit.
‘You’re giving sauce right now!’ retorted Carson. ‘How many times have I told you not to speak unless your betters ask you to?’
‘I told you—I just answered their questions!’
Carson’s anger visibly rose. ‘Come here, boy!’ he roared. Will blanched, but stood his ground.
Jem’s jaw hardened. ‘As interesting and enlightening as this conversation is, I believe I had a prior call on your attention, Mr Carson.’ His tone was that of a man bored beyond endurance, but the expression in his eyes was implacable. ‘Shall we?’ He indicated the rear door of the tavern.
‘Yes, yes, of course!’ Carson bowed deeply. ‘Apologies, but he tests my endurance every day. This way, sir!’
Olivia watched Jem walk away—that strong confident gait that she had seen him build and regain after his terrible injury.
While her brothers discussed the various churches, vicarages and rectories that lay within the area, she stood silent, looking around Gunn’s grimy cottage again. She now remembered it more for Jem’s kisses than Gunn’s attack on her. Jem had—quite without realising it—helped her vanquish the memory of the potato cellar.
By the time Jem returned, Adam and Harry had decided that, after escorting Olivia to meet the other ladies at the dressmaker, the gentlemen would pay courtesy calls on the various men of the cloth in the local area.
‘I know it is unlikely,’ mused Harry, ‘that any of them are involved or know anything about Gunn, but it is worth trying.’
‘Perhaps,’ speculated Adam, as a new thought struck him, ‘one of them may be now aiding Gunn, without realising that he was involved in such a heinous deed.’
Olivia was not listening. ‘Jem! What has happened?’
Jem was approaching them with a wide smile on his face and a decided air of satisfaction. ‘I have succeeded,’ he said, ‘in persuading Carson to make over Will’s contract to me.’
Olivia clapped her hands. ‘Oh, how wonderful, Jem!’
Could this man be any more magnificent? He had, with one bold move, rescued Will from a lifetime of drudgery and beatings.
Will looked confused, so Jem addressed him directly. ‘That means, Will, you will now work for me.’
‘Not Carson?’
‘Not Carson.’
Olivia saw disbelief, then joy, come over the boy’s face. ‘Work for you, sir? I should say so! But—what would you like me to do for you?’
‘I had a notion,’ said Jem, ‘that you might like to help with my horses.’
Will’s eyes opened wide. ‘You own more than one horse?’
Jem nodded. ‘I do. I currently own ten horses—four carriage horses and a string of hunters. There is also my sister’s mare.’
Adam laughed. ‘Why, Jem, you have more horses than I do!’
Will ignored this. ‘And can I look after all of them?’
‘You can.’ Jem laughed lightly, clearly enjoying the boy’s awed tone. ‘When we return to my home, you will live with the grooms and stable boys and you can learn how to be a stable boy.’
‘Be a stable boy!’ breathed Will. ‘An actual stable boy!’
‘Only if you work hard. And you can learn how to read and write, too.’
Tears started in Will’s eyes. ‘My mam taught me, a little bit, before she died. I should like to learn more, though.’
‘Good.’ Jem’s voice was a little choked. It was all Olivia could do to stop herself from hugging him, right there in front of everyone. He cleared his throat. ‘You will have to follow the orders of my head groom, who is currently staying in the mews at Chadcombe.’
‘Chadcombe!’ Will’s eyes opened wide. ‘I heard of Chadcombe. They say it is bigger even than the royal palace and that an earl lives in it!’
‘Correct—that would be the Earl of Shalford.’ Jem indicated Adam. Olivia suppressed a giggle—she was really enjoying the way Jem was managing the situation.
‘Delighted to make your acquaintance,’ said Adam. Will’s mouth fell open.
‘Allow me also to present to you,’ continued Jem, ‘the Earl’s brother, Mr Harry Fanton...’ Harry clicked his heels together and tipped his hat to the child. ‘And his sister, Lady Olivia Fanton.’
Olivia, enjoying the game, dipped a slight curtsy to Will. As Jem introduced himself, she could barely hear him. Her heart was swelling with pride. Jem looked at her briefly and she, unable to dissemble, smiled tremulously at him. He smiled back and they enjoyed a moment of perfect harmony.
‘Lords and ladies and all—I cannot take it in!’ Will did indeed look rather bewildered.
Jem blinked, as if recalling himself to the present. ‘Will, go you and pack up whatever belongings you
have. Say goodbye to Carson and Sally, then come straight back here.’
‘Yes, sir. Right away!’ The child shot off through the tavern door like an arrow, whooping in delight.
‘How much did you have to pay Carson?’ asked Harry drily. ‘I bet he fleeced you for an amount far above the true cost of the contract.’
‘It was worth it,’ said Jem. He glanced at Olivia. ‘It was worth every penny.’
Chapter Sixteen
‘And will the waltz be played, Faith?’ asked Olivia.
The ladies had retired to the drawing room at Chadcombe, allowing the men to enjoy their after-dinner port. The Monkton Park party had joined them for dinner, as had Amy Turner.
‘Of course it will!’ Mrs Buxted answered for her daughter. ‘For what is a ball nowadays without a waltz? I must say that in my day it would have been considered not at all the thing—don’t you agree, Miss Manning? But in these enlightened times it is considered perfectly acceptable even for unmarried maidens to be seen twirling around a room in a man’s arms!’
‘I find it unexceptional,’ said Miss Manning, in her usual colourless tone.
‘So there you have it, Lady Olivia! You may twirl around the room in the arms of Mr Manning—or any other young fellow that catches your eye!’ Mrs Buxted laughed loudly at her own wit. Olivia gritted her teeth and said nothing.
‘I am sure my brother would be delighted to waltz with Lady Olivia,’ said Miss Manning, smiling at Olivia. Strangely, this did not ease Olivia’s discomfort. Miss Manning had been curiously friendly towards Olivia tonight, singling her out for attention and conversation. She had even asked Olivia about her abduction and recovery.
‘You are a strong young girl—I am sure it did you no harm to have such an adventure!’ she had opined.
This was a novel approach to the subject and one that Olivia had not heard before. Everyone else had talked of ‘ordeal’ not ‘adventure’. But then, Miss Manning was an unusual person. Despite this, Olivia was rather thrown by the woman’s words.
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