Highroad

by Jeanie P Johnson

  Grange glared at Lavonia. He remembered how she had talked about how the guard had touched her. Maybe that is why Lavonia seemed so tired. Making love to the guard, and the Irishman as well. Was her appetite for such things over excessive? Such a change from the woman who claimed she could not bare to have a man’s hands on her!

  Lavonia frowned. How dare Herald elude to such a thing. She thought she had convinced him into believing he was no more than a close friend, who had certain liberties, from time to time, especially when a robbery was taking place, she thought, peevishly to herself. However, she had to keep him guessing in order to distract him from time to time, on the road he was guarding. He could not admit to anyone that she was a distraction to him, though, or he would be reprimanded, so her part in the robberies would never be detected, unless he was brave enough to report it. She had to give him those few liberties in order to discourage him from admitting he was not at his post as he should be. Otherwise she could accuse him of compromising her through their friendship. She would never dream of marrying Herald, though, so she was safe, as long as she could control him.

  “The conversation is starting to bore me,” Lavonia said, quietly, giving a little yawn, which was not fake, considering she was so tired. Grange was almost sure she said that so she would not have to admit to having any kind of affair with the guard.

  “All these affairs you keep attending must be running you ragged, Lavonia,” he murmured. “You look so tired.”

  She knew he was eluding to her affair with him as the Irishman, so she merely shrugged and smiled. “Perhaps,” she murmured.

  “Come Grange,” Marybeth said, pulling on his arm. “They are setting up the whist tables, and you know how Lavonia hates to play cards, so I will have to insist you be my partner.”

  “I would love being your partner,” Grange smiled down sweetly at her. “Are we still on for me taking you boating out on the pond?”

  Lavonia glanced over to the large pond the Wellingtons had on their property, where other couples were getting into small rowboats in order to skim over the water. The women holding parasols to shad them from the sun, and the men wearing straw hats. It was just as well Grange asked Marybeth to go out on the water with him, because had he asked her, she would have refused him. The less she was around him alone, the better, considering one wrong word may cause her to slip up and give away the fact that she knew he was the Irishman.

  She watched as the two strolled across the grass together, and seated themselves at the whist tables, that were situated under a large awning that had been set up to protect the players from the sun. Lavonia wished it would rain, and give her an excuse to return home, but the clear skies did not indicate a change in the weather.

  Home was were she merely rested from her activities, whether they be attending all the social functions, or her long nights out as a highwayman and then a lover. However, Grange was right. All her activities were wearing her down. She felt more tired than usual, and lately she had even been sick to her stomach when she rose in the morning. She must not be getting enough rest, she told herself.

  “There you are,” Herald said at her elbow. “I thought you would come out on the pond with me,” he smiled.

  Lavonia glanced over at Marybeth and Grange, smiling at each other, and shrugged. “Why not,” she said, letting him take her hand. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Grange watching her, so she reached up and gave Herald a kiss on the cheek. Might as well keep Grange guessing so he did not feel too sure of himself, she thought slyly. “Thank you for the offer,” she simpered up at Herald. “Will you be out guarding tonight?”

  “As always, but they have changed the road I guard tonight. Twice now, the highwayman has gotten past me.” He smiled down at her. “You know who is to blame for that, don’t you?”

  “Goodness, Herald, the problem is you have such a soft touch, I can’t contain myself, when I am around you.”

  “Perhaps we should meet when I am not guarding the roads,” he whispered, “and I can show you more of my soft touch.”

  “We will discuss it in the boat,” she said, batting her eyes at him.

  Herald helped Lavonia into the boat, and the moment she sat down, she knew she had made a mistake. Her stomach was revolting at the bobbing of the vessel, but Herald had already pushed off from the dock, so she tried to control the nausea that was working its way up from her stomach into her throat. The next moment she found herself heaving over the side of the boat, humiliating herself in front of Herald.

  “Oh goodness, Lavonia, are you all right?” he cried.

  “Sea sickness,” she whimpered, as he handed her his handkerchief. “I was never good on water,” she lied. This was the first time being on a boat had affected her like this. She must be coming down with something, she reasoned. She hoped she had not caught anything. She was supposed to meet Grange at the highroad, and then go distract Herald. Lately Grange had been doing all the robbing on his own, while Lavonia kept Herald busy, and the town had decided the other highwayman had been pushed out of his territory by the bigger man, and went else where.

  “Are you sure you will be all right?” Herald asked with concern in his voice, leaning towards her.

  “I feel quite all right now. It has passed,” she smiled, and was surprised at how well she was all of a sudden feeling now.

  “I wanted to talk to you about our meeting together at night,” Herald said softly, as thought there was someone who could hear them talking. “It is getting too risky. We should make arrangements to meet when I am not working.”

  “But you work almost every night. Where would you find the time?” she pouted.

  “If the highwayman gets past me again, I won’t be guarding at all. They will send me packing, back to where I came from, and give me another assignment.”

  “All right then.” She lowered her eyes. “Tonight will be our last time, while you are still guarding. You can’t put me off. I have been looking forward to it,” she simpered.

  “Very well. But that is the last time you can come while I am on duty,” he insisted.

  “You are so sweet, Herald. I won’t let you regret this. I will give you something special tonight, I promise.”

  “You will?” he smiled.

  “You deserve it,” she smiled back, reaching out and putting her hand on his knee, rubbing it back and forth, coming ever so close to the bulge she detected in his trousers.

  “Please don’t stop doing that,” he whispered, as he continued to row.

  She laid her hand over him. “If you insist,” she smiled, running her fingers lightly over the material, listening to him breath harder, as he continued to row, while looking deeply into her eyes.

  “Lavonia, you always manage to surprise me,” he whispered.

  “Tonight you will get a bigger surprise,” she promised, as she gave him a firm squeeze, and he took in his breath.

  Lavonia looked over her shoulder to see Grange watching the boat she was in, but she knew he could see nothing but her leaning in closer to Herald in order to talk to him, she turned and waved at him, and she could see him chuckling.

  “This is the last time,” Grange told Lavonia as she met him on the highroad. “We are pushing our luck, and I believe we should lie low for a bit, after this one. Certainly you have plenty of money by now,” he insisted.

  “Very well. They changed the road Herald will be watching. So it will be too risky distracting him after this,” Lavonia agreed. She realized she needed a rest from the stress and excitement this created. But she did not want a rest from the Irishman’s arms.

  “Go on, then, Love, and we will meet at my room tonight. I will be looking forward to it.” He reached over and caressed her cheek. She had stopped wearing her bandit outfit, since her part was to distract Herald now, but he was tiring of this charade, and was going to tell Lavonia tonight that he would no longer be her partner in crime. He hoped he could persuade her to continue to meet with the Irishman on a regular basi
s though, because he didn’t think he could give her up.

  Lavonia, tapped Thunderbolt with her whip, and headed in the direction to where Herald would be guarding tonight. When she saw him, she gave a little wave, and then cantered over to him, letting him help her down off of her horse.

  “You look especially beautiful tonight,” he murmured, as his lips pressed against hers.

  “You flatter me,” she smiled, as she started to pull him away from his post, behind a near by tree. “You are especially handsome, yourself,” she returned.

  “I’ve been thinking, Lavonia, would you ever consider me? I mean as a husband?” he asked as soon as they were lost in the shadow of the tree.

  “Goodness, Herald. I would have to think about that. You know I receive proposals at least once a week. I could never jump at the first offer.”

  “You have others you meet with like this?” he asked a little disappointed.

  “Now you know it is not nice to kiss and tell,” she laughed. “After all I am a widow, and widows have certain liberties that other single women do not have, so tonight I will allow you to take certain liberties of your own,” she whispered. Lavonia bravely lowered the shoulders of her dress, allowing the neckline to expose her white orbs in the moonlight.

  Herald took in his breath. “Lavonia,” he murmured, reaching out his hand to touch her. “This is what I have been dreaming of, ever since I ran my fingers over your legs, when your horse unseated you.”

  His head lowered over her, and Lavonia closed her eyes, pretending it was the Irishman with his mouth on her. This was the last time she was going to distract Herald at his post, she reminded herself, as he got lost in his own desires, in his eagerness to feel the softness of her skin. She heard the carriage rumble by, and Herald started to lift his head, but she pushed it back against her, and gave a whimper, as though she couldn’t bare to have him lift his lips from her.

  “There,” she said, stepping back, and pulling up her dress. “I hope you enjoyed your surprise.” Just as she said the words she heard a gun shot in the distance. “What was that?” she cried.

  “Hell and damnation,” Herald muttered. “I had better get back to my post. It is probably the highwayman accosting a carriage.”

  “But he has never shot anyone before,” she insisted. He didn’t even have to shoot his gun at all anymore, because when the people saw him riding down on them, waving his gun, they knew to stop if they didn’t want him to shoot them.

  “Wait here. I am going to investigate,” he told her, and jumped up on his horse and headed up the road in the direction of where they heard the shots.

  Lavonia stood trembling, waiting for Herald to return. She hoped that Grange did not have to shoot anyone. It would be all her fault! It seemed an eternity before Herald returned. “I think we are rid of the highwayman,” he said with a smile, when he jumped down from his horse. “One of the men in the carriage shot him. He managed to get away, but he probably won’t get far. The man said he shot the highwayman through the heart.”

  “No!” Lavonia shrieked. “Are you sure?”

  “Why are you acting so dismayed?” he asked puzzled. “He got what he deserved.”

  “No one deserves to die,” she cried, as she swung up on Thunderbolt, surprising Herald, as he watched her gallop away.

  Lavonia raced to the highroad, just in case Grange had gone there, but he was no where in sight. He had to have gone to his room above the clubs, she thought frantically. He said he would meet her there after words. She wheeled Thunderbolt around and raced in the direction of town.

  His horse was not there. Maybe he hid it. She climbed the stairs, only to discover the door was locked. She knocked, just in case, but no one answered. Lavonia sank down to sit on the top step, hugging herself. Grange had to be alive, she told herself. She would feel it if he were actually dead. She was sure of it.

  After sitting huddled on the top step for at least two hours, Lavonia realized he was not coming back there. Where was he? She returned to her horse and swung up on his back, heading back to the place on the road where she knew he had held up the carriage. She would try to follow his tracks. Maybe he fell from his horse and was lying suffering on the side of the road somewhere.

  By dawn, Lavonia had not found a trace of either Grange or his horse. There was nothing to do but return to her own house. In the morning she would go to Grange’s office, and discover if there was any word of him. Someone would know if something had happened to Grange. Then she would know for sure.

  In spite of her worry, Lavonia fell asleep the moment her head hit the bed, she was so spent, not only with worry, but with staying up all night searching for Grange. She hadn’t even bothered to take her petticoats off and put on a nightgown. As soon as her dress hit the floor, she crawled up under the covers, her breast heaving, as she began to weep, fearing she would never see Grange or the Irishman again. It had been her fault for starting this in the first place. He had begged her to stop before someone got hurt, and her stubborn pride would not allow her to listen to him. Tonight was to be the last night for their escapades, she mourned to herself. She realized it would be the last night, regardless. If Grange was dead, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

  By morning, Lavonia could barely drag herself out of bed. She pulled on the same dress she had been wearing the night before, and repaired her hair as best she could, and then she ordered the buggy, and drove to Grange’s office. It was late morning, and ordinarily his office would be open, but the door was still locked, and the closed sign was up in the window.

  Lavonia was starting to tremble. She took the reins of the buggy, and slapped them against the horse’s rump, heading towards Grange’s residence. She had never been to his home before, even though she did know where he lived. There had never been a reason for her to visit him before, but she couldn’t help herself. She had to discover if he was still all right. Maybe he did this to frighten her into stopping her highwayman ways forever, she told herself. It would be just like Grange to try and give her a scare.

  She hurried up the stairs leading to his front door, and rapped with the ring, her heart pounding in her throat. If he came to the door, she would just tell him she had heard about the highwayman getting shot, and wondered if he had heard the news as well? If he wasn’t hurt, she would never have anything to do with him again, for scaring her that way, she told herself.

  It seemed forever before the door was finally opened, and the butler stood before her. “May I speak to Mr. Gordon? She asked in a shaking voice.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but Mr. Gordon did not return to his residence last night. No one knows where he is at the moment. Would you like to leave a message?”

  “Yes. Would you tell him that Mrs. Paddington was asking after him. He wasn’t at his office, and I had a bit of news I wanted to discuss with him.”

  “Very well ma’am. I will tell him when he gets in.” The door closed slowly, and Lavonia started to wring her hands. Something had happened to him. She was sure.

  She rode slowly back through town, trying to hold the tears back, wondering what she was ever going to do? Both Grange and the Irishman had become such an essential part of her life. Facing a life without him was something she had not contemplated before. If she could only turn back time.

  “Lavonia!” It was Marybeth, riding up beside her on her horse. “Have you heard the news?”

  “What?” Lavonia asked, knowing full well what it was.

  “The highwayman has been killed. Well one of them, anyway. Everyone believes it had been Grange, since he has mysteriously disappeared as well.”

  “They have not found his body?” Lavonia asked.

  “The person who shot him, said he took out on his horse over the moors. They searched for him, but couldn’t find him or his horse.”

  “Just because Grange is not around does not mean he was the highwayman,” Lavonia insisted.

  “Well it does seem strange. It gave Grange something t
o write about in the rags, and then when they go to tell him the news to write up, he can’t be found. Everyone is putting two and two together.”

  “Everyone is being hasty,” Lavonia murmured. “I don’t believe that Grange would do such a thing, just to have something to write about. You misjudge his character.”

  “We will see,” Marybeth said. She looked frightened herself, Lavonia thought.

  Lavonia went home, and went back to bed. She couldn’t face the day. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. Grange could not be dead.

  “What is that incessant pounding?” Lavonia could hear the Butler calling, as he went past her room in the hall. A few minutes later, she heard a tapping at her door. “There is someone here to see you, Mrs. Paddington,” he told her.

  Lavonia did not want to see anyone, but she threw a wrapper on, and went down stairs to find out who had been pounding on the door. When she went into the drawing room, she almost fell over. “Grange,” she breathed. “What are you doing here?” She wanted to rush up to him and throw her arms around his neck, but she restrained herself.

  “Well, you have finally done it, Lavonia,” he said in a low voice. He did not look very good, she thought.

  “Done what?” she asked, as he pinned her with his eyes.

  “You got your highwayman shot. I understand he is dead.”

  “Is that so? No one has found his body have they?” she asked, glaring at him for trying to frighten her into believing that Irish was dead. He knew how she would feel if she really did not know that Grange was the Irishman. He wanted to punish her! He wanted to bring her as low as he could, to make her feel guilty for what she had done. It had been a set up, in order to put her in her place, and stop her from continuing robbing carriages. Well it had worked, but the fact that he had frightened her that way, made her take back all her feelings for Grange. He knew if the Irishman was dead, he could never make love to her again. It was his way of getting out of everything, and making her stop her midnight madness. He hadn’t intended to admit he was the Irishman to humiliate her. He had planned to do far worse to get back at her. He would make her fall in love with the Irishman, and then make her believe that because of her, he was dead. It was more vile than using her body! Had she not known it was Grange, playing the Irishman, she would have been devastated!