Miss Ryder's Memoirs

by Laura Matthews

  He grunted something that sounded like “Yes, ma'am,” and I didn't scold him for his lack of proper manners. I left him rubbing furiously at the brass, muttering imprecations on the hapless chickens he could see pecking outside in the straw.

  If I had wanted to join the others in the saloon, I would have had to change my boots, and I couldn't bring myself to do it. As I slipped past the open door, I could hear Amanda playing the pianoforte and singing. She was in particularly good voice that evening, and I felt a twinge of jealousy when I heard Sir John join in with her. Cousin Bret has no ear for music; he was seated on the striped sofa looking bored.

  Though I would have given much for a good night's sleep, I had a suspicion that Mama intended to ride out that night. Perhaps it was something about the look of her eyes or the listening way she held her head, but I was convinced she would leave the house as soon as everyone settled down. At least this time I could be sure that Lofty would be ready to go when I needed her.

  I spent a considerable amount of time trying to figure out how to keep Sir John from following us. Eventually I chose the most logical method. There were, of course, several keys to the baronet's room, one of them inside the room itself, so that a guest could lock the door. From my previous experience I felt sure that Sir John had never bothered to do any such thing. And if he didn't lock the door, he was unlikely to notice whether or not the key was missing.

  So while I could still hear the music coming from downstairs, I hurried to his room. Though my plan required only opening the door the smallest distance and reaching around it to remove the key, I found myself almost paralyzed when I stood in front of his room. Every time I had tried to do something unnoticed concerning this place, I had failed. By some odd chance would I find that he was in the room now, rather than in the saloon where he belonged?

  Just to be on the safe side I knocked very softly. Then, with my heart pounding in my throat, I turned the knob as quietly as possible and pushed the door open. His room was dark. Even the candle was not lit yet for his arrival. I reached around the door and felt for the key in the lock. It slid out easily into my hand, heavy and cold. I felt like a thief, somehow, and quickly drew the door closed behind me.

  Because I needed to know how much noise the key would make in locking the door, I inserted it again, on the outside. The first time I turned the key it seemed to make a great, hollow thunking sound when it locked. That would never do. I tried it again, more carefully. This time the sound was softer, but still far too loud for the middle of the night when not another soul would be stirring.

  I decided to think about this problem in my own room and hurried down the hall. My bed looked particularly tempting but I refused to allow myself to lie down upon it even for a moment. Instead, I dismissed Milly and set about donning my darkest riding costume. Only the boots gave me trouble, as Dutch kept nudging me off balance while I tried to put them on.

  The dog was an inspiration, though. He tended to wander around the house at night if he wasn't shut in my room. And occasionally he would give one of his gruff barks, not really enough to awaken someone, just enough to cover the sound of a bolt slipping into place. I could get him to bark if I made him sit up for some food. Of course, there wasn't so much as a radish in my room, so I had to sneak down to the larder to swipe a piece of meat. Mrs. Cooper was just putting off her apron and very nearly caught sight of me as I squeezed past the open kitchen door.

  By the time I heard the rest of the company going off to bed, I had finally managed to get everything together. There was still a considerable wait until things settled down and became quiet. I kept to a position in that hallway where I could see when the light went out under the baronet's door. Even then I hesitated, though I was having the devil of a time keeping the basset hound from wandering off. I wanted Sir John to be in bed and fallen asleep, if possible, before I acted.

  With the greatest caution I inserted the key in the lock, keeping Dutch close beside me by allowing him to smell the meat. He became excited and wanted to have the treat right away, nuzzling my boots and thrusting his cold nose under my skirt. I was terrified that Sir John would hear all the little scrapings and scratchings and come to his door to investigate. So I quickly positioned the key with my left hand and held the meat up in my right.

  On cue, Dutch gave out a deep wolf of a bark, and I turned the key. Dutch was so beside himself by now that I feared he would continue to bark and I stuffed the food in his mouth without further ado. The sound of the key turning had been minimal, but I raced down the corridor with Dutch close behind me, just in case the baronet came to investigate.

  Nothing happened. I felt sure that if Sir John had heard anything he would immediately have bounded out of bed and tried to get out of his room. When there was no alarm raised, no fists pounding on the solid wood door, I relaxed the slightest bit and allowed myself a small word of congratulation. It was no mean trick, outsmarting our wily visitor.

  Chapter 12

  Of course, it would all have been for nothing if Mama did not choose to ride out that night. I went down to the back hall as I had the previous night, but this time I sat in the shadow of the door rather than lying down under the table, where I might have fallen asleep. In a surprisingly short time Mama appeared in her black cape and mask, still tugging at a shirtsleeve that had gotten caught under her coat. She passed by my hiding place without a moment's hesitation, so I felt confident that she hadn't seen me. I suppose I could have stopped her then, but I really had to see what she would do.

  She moved with surprising speed. By the time I'd given her a little lead, I couldn't see her at all. But when I arrived at the stable I could hear her horse shuffling outside. I slipped in the back way and, thank heaven, Jed had Lofty saddled and waiting for me, though he was nowhere in sight.

  As soon as I heard Antelope move off toward the home woods, I led Lofty outside and mounted from the block. No one else was in evidence. There was an almost full moon, fortunately, and a silvery light-frosted night scene. It even glinted off the metal of Antelope's bridle as Mama rode her straight into the woods.

  I was keeping a close eye on her, even as I secured my booted foot in the stirrup. By my calculations, she entered on the second path from the right, which led fairly straightforwardly through the woods and came out near the Cambridge Road. It was my understanding that the masked highwayman usually struck on the Newmarket Road, and I was a little surprised by this direction, but I set Lofty off at a good pace in pursuit.

  For the better part of an hour I followed Mama, always able to keep her in sight. In fact, it was so easy to keep her in sight that I began to suspect that she knew she was being followed. Perhaps she had known on the occasion when Sir John had followed her, and had led him on a merry chase.

  Because she was doing much the same with me. We didn't head straight anywhere. She meandered through the woods, and then through the meadow, and then along the road. I would have sworn, had it not gone midnight, that she was merely out for a pleasant jog. Antelope was good in the dark places like the woods. She never seemed to stumble or put a foot wrong. Lofty was not as sure of herself, but she had a big heart, the darling. My respect for her grew as we wandered along behind Mama.

  I cannot say why it never occurred to me that I might not be the only one to follow Mama that night. Oh, I had locked Sir John in his room, but that didn't mean that no one else from the household could get out. Yet it wasn't until we were well along the Cambridge Road that I realized someone was behind me!

  The next thing I noticed was that I was being followed by not one but two people. When I cautiously turned my head at a bend in the road, I could distinctly see two horses, each with a rider. One of these people was slight, which led me to identify him as Cousin Bret. Also, against my express wishes, he was riding Thunder, and not always on the road because of our meandering path.

  In the moonlight it was impossible to identify the last rider in our procession, but I was fairly certain of the horse. A
pollo had a distinguishing blaze on his forehead that I could see even from this distance. Really, it was too much. How had Sir John gotten out of his locked room? And so fast. I might as well not have bothered going to all that trouble.

  There was something strange about the whole business. Mama seemed to know that she was being followed. And I knew we were being followed. So what was the purpose of it all? Did the men really think she was going to rob someone with all of us trailing after her? Or weren't they aware that she had figured out about being followed?

  In either case, I decided not to let such a chance pass by. At the next opportunity to disappear from view for a few moments I made my dark cloak look more like a cape in the way it was draped. Also, I managed to smash my hat down with a good whack to make it flatter, the way Mama's was. Amanda would have had an attack of apoplexy if she had seen me do it! There was nothing I could do to make it look like I wore a mask, except draw my hair forward across my face so the pale oval wasn't obvious in the moonlight.

  Then, when I was sure that both of them could see me and that Mama was out of sight, I rode Lofty into the forest. Since the two of them were so much farther behind me, I hoped they would think both of us had headed in, if indeed they knew they were following two people. At the distance they kept it was just barely possible they hadn't seen Mama ahead of me.

  As soon as I rode into the forest, I knew it was a mistake. Honestly, it was totally black in there, and Lofty immediately became skittish. It was not the same as following where another horse led. She sidled and stomped and shook her neck, just as though she were seeing something that I wasn't able to see. It reminded me forcefully of Mama's ghosts.

  To help calm us both, I talked to her as we wove our way through the trunks. “Good girl,” I said firmly, patting her neck. “There's nothing the matter, you see. Nothing around us at all.” But I could not rid myself of the feeling that there was indeed something there. I told myself that it was only small animals disturbed by our unusual venture into the forest at this hour, but the eerie feeling wouldn't leave me.

  I rode deeper into the woods for some time before I heard one of my two followers behind me. Try as I would, I couldn't make out that there was more than one. But it was dark and there were all those trees between him and me. I couldn't possibly tell. Nor could I tell where I was going.

  Eventually I turned right, which would take me back in the direction I'd come, but parallel to the road. I had begun to wonder where Mama was and why it had seemed such a good idea to take off into the forest. I was able to keep going only because I felt certain that I wasn't alone. Cousin Bret or Sir John, and possibly both of them, were following me. Besides, what other choice did I have?

  I rode for perhaps another quarter of an hour, with Lofty stepping along as though she were the bravest of animals, except that she shied each time an owl hooted or a small, furry animal scurried past her. I did not feel at all courageous myself, but there wasn't much I could do. When I looked back, I saw that there was still one horse following me, but in the dimness I couldn't tell who it was.

  And then, after a while and without my realizing when it had happened, there wasn't even the one horse and rider behind me. Once I turned and looked back and saw the movement, decided movement of a horse, and the next time there was nothing except trees and more trees.

  It was awful to think that I was alone in those woods. I wasn't frightened for Mama, because she knew where she was going and because at least one of the gentlemen had followed me. But I was alone and it was dark and spooky. Not that I'm generally afraid of the dark. But this was not at home, and I hadn't, in truth, the least idea of where I was. There seemed to be a patch of mist here and there, like a ghost floating in the forest.

  And there were sounds that seemed to me unlikely to be little animals and birds. Mysterious sounds, like the ones I suspected the red Indians in the colonies made, calling to one another, identifying a vulnerable stranger in their midst. Not that I feared there were Indians in the forest. I knew better than that! The feeling grew on me that there was someone out there, though, and I could feel my skin shudder under my warm cloak. I continued to ride along, of course, probably communicating my fears to my horse, who became more and more disturbed.

  Poor Lofty! She is the sweetest mare and it was worrisome to have her twitching like a toad and sidling right away from the direction I urged her in. I could see her eyes rolling wildly when she tossed her head, too, and it merely made me more frightened. One of the suspicious noises rose louder than ever among the trees, seeming to echo endlessly back and forth from right to left, forward and back, around and around.

  Now my hands were trembling, too. Surely this had to be some human ... with no Sir John or Cousin Bret behind me to protect me from whatever evil lay there.

  Obviously the thing to do was to head back to the road. When I tried to turn Lofty's head in that direction, she came closer to balking than I have ever experienced. But in the end I was able to urge her on, forcing her against her will to make this excursion into the depths of blackness. Really, it was no blacker that way than the direction in which we were headed, but she seemed ever so much more hesitant about going there. My skin had begun to crawl and I wished that I were home in my own bed, with the covers up over my head and a candle burning on my nightstand.

  Poom! Something leapt out of the dark at us. I screamed in my fright, louder and louder. I could not seem to catch my breath. Something human had lunged from the trees and wrapped itself around me, dragging me from my horse. Lofty took off like the hounds of hell were after her. My fate was sealed. There was no way I could escape when my horse had disappeared through the gloom and I was left in the clutches of a madman.

  Well, as is apparent from my writing this, I did survive. I was too shocked for the longest time to hear Sir John saying, “Calm down, Catherine. It's only me. I didn't mean to give you that great a scare. Though God knows you deserved it, my girl. What the devil do you think you're doing. out here?"

  I have never, without exception, been more relieved in my life. Nor more angry. That is the common result when an incident of this nature occurs. At first you are relieved to find that you aren't in danger, then you are mad as a hornet that someone caused your fear and made you look like a fool. So it's a very lucky thing that he had me in such a tight grip, else I would likely have scratched his face or pummeled his chest in my distress. Not that he needed to hold me quite that closely. After a moment my hysteria lessened and I felt distinctly other than either relieved or angry.

  The man is a devil, no doubt about it. He rocked me with his laughter and made fun of my screaming and my fear. And then he kissed me, and kissed me, and kissed me until I was breathless. His lips were cool and sweet, and so demanding that I thought he would gobble me right up. Perhaps he hadn't been so unaffected by my performance, after all. For he clung to me most romantically, whispering my name softly to calm and excite me at the same time.

  He was very successful at this. I freely admit it. When he held me pressed against his body, I could feel my own heart race with excitement, and not because he'd frightened me. At the moment I didn't even have the sense to question him about this, I was so taken with his kisses and the warm way his hands played about on my back. There was indeed a warmth spreading straight through me, fluttering in my breast and churning lower down. And that incredible ache that grew with each new onslaught on my lips and my heart. Yes, indeed, he was having a marvelous time arousing me to a frenzy of passion.

  Or so I thought at the time, since I had never been moved to quite that state before. What I longed for, I could not quite comprehend, though I knew it was some kind of pleasurable release from this ecstatic pressure. Though I didn't know exactly what was happening, Sir John was considerably more experienced. And just principled enough to spare my maidenly blushes.

  What he did, much to my astonishment, was to rub against me in a most enjoyable way. My excitement rose higher and higher until I thought I would bu
rst. And then, to my astonishment, I did burst! Gasping with the enormity and the pleasure of it, I clung to him as though my life depended on him. And he laughed.

  Oh, not a mean laugh. I was not at all offended. He laughed with the delight of my responding that way, I think. And he kissed me quite tenderly and hugged me forcefully against him. “My precious highwayman, you are even more charming than I had suspected,” he murmured.

  “I am not a highwayman,” I said as sternly as I was able.

  “Then what are you doing here in the middle of the night dressed as you are?"

  Somehow I still could not tell him about Mama. Whether I did not entirely trust him or thought he would not believe me, I cannot be sure. “Well, I was restless this evening. I couldn't sleep, you see. And it seemed just the thing to have a bit of a ride on Lofty. Drat, where has she gone? You've scared her off, you villain."

  “Too awful of me, to be sure. You shall just have to ride with me on Apollo. I can't think of much I would prefer more."

  There was a decided gleam in his eye that tempted me to go without a murmur, but my maidenly modesty reasserted itself and I made at least an attempt to find Lofty. I called out for her, hoping that she was still within the sound of my voice. She's ordinarily very good about not straying too far, but she'd been badly frightened. There was no response to my calls.

  “She'll be back at the stables by the time we get there,” Sir John assured me as he tossed me up onto Apollo's back. He had had the forethought to tie Apollo to a tree. When he loosened the reins and held them lightly in his hands, I was tempted to ride off on Apollo, leaving him there. Fortunately my memory of the darkness of the forest made me refrain.

  Sir John swung up behind me and shifted us about until I was pretty well sitting on one of his legs. This must have been rather uncomfortable for him, but he never said so. He just told me to lean back against his shoulder and he would get us home in no time.