"Horses are dangerous," Catherine had said. "You never know what they will do. If you're tossed and can't get your foot out of your stirrup – you need a way to cut yourself free."
Predictably, Henry scoffed. "If you're dragged by a horse, how will you be able to reach your knife in your pocket?"
Catherine glared at Henry. "You'll carry your knife, Henrietta, or I will see that you don't ride for a six-month. Or longer."
Although Henry muttered about grooms always accompanying her, she loved her little elegant little pen knife, with its haft of mother-0f-pearl, and carried it every day.
Melly blessed Catherine's foresight. She slid the blade from her own small silver-embossed, wood-handled pen knife. Although its blade was just three inches long, it was nevertheless very sharp. She wriggled the blade underneath the window lock for a few moments, easily gouging a hole in the soft wood. Finally she lifted the lock away, opened the window, then tossed the lock onto the bed.
She couldn't open the window to make her escape yet. She had to wait until the dray left the inn yard. Looking down, she watched as the carter and another man — the innkeeper? — lifted barrels from the body of the dray, then carried them inside the inn.
How far would she need to drop from the window to reach the ground? What if she fell? Although she quailed at the thought of the danger, she was determined that she would get away.
Perhaps she should try the lock on the door? She discounted that thought immediately.
Suddenly Melly heard footsteps on the stairs. She scooped up the lock from the bed — she had to put the lock back so that it looked as if the window was still locked.
When the door opened she was breathless, but sitting innocently on the bed. She had tucked her pen knife into the top of her jacket, so that she could reach it quickly.
The door opened. Melly stood up.
A maid carrying a tray entered. She was small, red-faced, with bright ginger hair escaping from a dingy mob cap. Behind her loomed another large man. The scar which slashed across his cheek made him look villainous. His sharp eyes assessed Melly, then he dismissed her as a threat.
He folded his arms and stood in the doorway, narrowing his gaze on Melly.
Melly was glad of the knife.
"Something to eat ma'am," the maid squeaked. "There's a jug of ale, our very best ale. I know ladies drink wine, but the ale is very pleasant. And this cheese to eat, as well as some chicken. And a slice of peach pie. You need to eat ma'am… I'll just put the tray here on the table."
The maid set the tray on the table, then backed towards the doorway, her wide-eyed gaze never leaving Melly. Her hands twisted in her apron and she looked close to tears. "I'm very sorry ma'am, that I am. But please eat."
The man grabbed the maid's arm and dragged her out of the room. He looked Melly up and down once more, then slammed the door and turned the key in the lock.
Melly released her breath and inhaled deeply. Thank heavens he hadn't looked at the window and the broken lock.
To her surprise, she was hungry, and very thirsty. She poured the ale into the wooden cup and drank deeply. Using her knife, she cut a chunk of cheese and ate it. She needed to keep her strength up. She had no idea where she was, and how long it would take her to get home.
When next Melly looked out the window, she saw that the dray contained one last barrel. The carter lifted the barrel from the dray then climbed onto the dray's seat. He waved, joked with the innkeeper, then the dray rolled out of the inn's yard.
Melly pushed the window open, and looked down. She breathed a deep sigh of relief. Underneath the window, she saw that the roof extended over the back of the inn, forming an overhang. The space wasn't wide, but she should be able to drop onto the overhang, and from there to the ground.
Leading out of the window, she saw that the rough stone offered slight handholds and toe holes. Perhaps she could climb down?
The biggest danger was that someone would hear her. However, she had to take the chance.
She was determined to escape. If they caught her, they would merely put her back in the room. They wanted money, so what could they gain by harming her?
Her hair. Swiftly, she dragged her fingers through it, and found four pins. She set them aside. After dividing her unruly mass of blonde hair into two, she braided each side quickly, then curled the braids into a knot at her nape. She used the pins to hold the knot in place.
Then, without stopping to think, she bent down and lifted the front of her riding habit so she could reach the back length. She pulled the back up, and tucked the material into the front of the skirt, forming baggy trousers.
Her boots — she couldn't climb in her boots. It was a struggle to remove them. Perhaps she should remove her stockings too? No…
Before she could think better of it, she reached out the window, and dropped her boots onto the overhang.
The chair. She needed the chair. She set the chair underneath the window and stepped up onto it. It took just a moment to lift her right leg and straddle the window ledge.
She listened. She could hear voices, but there was no one in the backyard of the inn. The voices didn't sound close. She was certain they came from the public rooms of the inn. In the distance, she heard the chimes of a ship's bell.
She leaned forward and reached down with her right leg. The rough stone of which the inn had been built allowed her to get a toehold.
Gripping the window ledge tightly, she took the weight and lifted her left leg out of the window and found another toehold. She looked down. Should she risk it? It wasn't a far drop, but she was certain that someone would hear — her weight would cause a thump… and she might roll right off the overhang.
She had to climb down.
She let go with her right hand and found a handhold of just a couple of inches between the slabs of stone. Would the stone bear her weight? Before her fear overcame her, she let go with her left hand and found another handhold.
Now she was plastered against the wall of the inn, too frightened to move. Her feet. She had to move and find another toehold with her right foot.
Let go, she told herself. Don't think.
It took several minutes before Melly put one foot onto the overhang, and then the other. She done it. Her fingertips were scraped raw, and her hands ached, but she had done it.
Hoping that the overhang would bear her weight, she sat down and slid her feet into her boots. She listened hard, but couldn't hear voices from the room below.
Inhaling deeply, she crawled to the edge of the overhang, faced the inn, laid flat, then slid her legs over the edge. A moment later, she had dropped to the ground.
A quick glance told her that the back door of the inn was open.
She shook out the skirts of her riding habit, and strolled to the loose boxes. If anyone challenged her, she would maintain that she was a guest, taking the air. Then she would run. The inn yard was open, after all — she could see the open gate.
Mastering the temptation to run out of the yard, she stiffened her spine, and reached the small stable. Five loose boxes, but four of them were empty.
A horse scented her, and turned, then walked to the front of his box. He extended his head over the half door. He was wearing a halter. All she needed was a bridle, and a saddle…
She glanced back at the inn's back door. She was alone, but she knew that someone could come out of the door at any moment, or enter the yard from the street.
Escape
Hurry…
The outbuildings were all locked. Of course they were. They had to be, otherwise any thief could enter the yard and steal whatever he wanted. The lean-to contained bales of hay. And a length of rope.
It would do. Melly picked up the rope, and entered the loose box. The horse — a mare — didn't try to bite or strike at her. Not that the poor animal, with its ribs showing, and hip bones prominent, would be capable of it.
A rough coat, with a ragged mane and tail, completed the picture of an animal
which had worked hard all its days. She would have to hope that the mare wasn't lame, and could carry her.
Melly glanced at the back door of the inn. No one was in sight. However, she had to be quick. She forced herself to be calm. "There now," she said softly reaching out a hand to the mare.
The mare nuzzled her open palm. Melly patted her neck, still speaking softly to her. "Aren't you a pretty girl now… you'd like to leave this cramped little stable with me, wouldn't you? Let's look at you."
The mare stood calmly, one back leg tilted, as Melly quickly looked at her teeth, and inspected her hooves. Around fifteen years old, she estimated. She told herself that that was fine — an older animal would make less of a fuss than a younger, flighty animal.
She cut the rope to make reins and fastened them to the mare's halter.
She thought for a moment. No bit, no bridle, and bareback. Henry would love this situation — she would be in her element. Melly was much less keen, but she could do it. She and her sisters had ridden astride, and without a saddle, when they were learning to ride at Gostwicke Hall.
She could do it. She would do it.
Melly unfastened the door of the loose box, then overturned the mare's water bucket and climbed onto it. She lifted the reins over the mare's head and patted her back. "I hope you don't have any bad habits my sweet – I'm about to climb onto your back. Please don't buck, there's a good girl now…"
The mare stood stolidly while Melly eased herself onto her back, and merely turned her head to look at Melly inquisitively, as if to ask where the saddle was.
Melly nudged the mare forward, then leaned down to open the bottom of the loose box door, and walked the mare into the inn's yard.
She took a moment to close the loose box half door. If she left it open, anyone glancing out of the inn would see it immediately, and then come to investigate.
"Gently now. Let's be quiet until we get to the gate," Melly whispered. She knew was somewhere near the docks, but had no idea how she would get home, or even in which direction home might be.
"Just go," she said aloud to herself. "Come on now girl."
Suddenly Melly heard voices from the back door of the inn. She slid off the mare's back and pulled the horse into the lean to, behind the stacks of hay.
"Who have you got staying there then," a male voice asked.
"I don't know. A lady. I wish I could leave, but I dare not. That man will have my hide."
"It was your half day."
"That's as might be, but it makes no matter. I'll see you on Sunday."
Melly recognized the voice of the maid who had brought her her food.
She leaned against the mare's side and patted her shoulder.
The maid and her admirer kept talking. She willed them to go back inside the inn. It was only a matter of time before the man with the tattooed face realized that Melly was not in her room. She needed to get away. Please go back inside, she whispered to herself.
"I'll see you on Sunday – now you must go. I need to get on, he'll notice that I've taken too much time."
Millie peeked around the hay, and saw that the yard was empty. The maid had gone back inside, and a short round man in a brown jacket walked through the gate.
Where could she mount? She had to go back to get the bucket. That took another moment, but at last she was on the mare's back. No matter who came through inn's back door – she had to leave.
Melly squeezed the mare's sides, and gave her a gentle nudge with her heel. "Move on now, my sweet — let's escape." She promised the mare that she would buy her, and that she'd have a happy home at Gostwicke Hall if they made it home safely.
Linton had walked past The Blue Boar twice. He was waiting for Bousfort and his men. With a dirty hat pulled down low over his face, and a thick coat and trousers provided by one of these grooms, he was sure that he wouldn't attract too much attention.
His valet had looked at him in horror when he was forced to help his master to dress, but finally got into the spirit of the adventure. He'd even prevented Linton from making a mistake, because Linton hadn't considered footwear.
"You can't wear those boots," the valet had pointed out. He'd rushed down to the kitchens and had come back with some begrimed, throughly disreputable boots which he had presented to Linton. "Your boots, my lord," he said with quiet satisfaction.
In any other circumstances, Linton would have chuckled at the expression on his man's face.
Was Mel inside The Blue Boar? He had to hope that she was. He longed to rush inside and search the place himself, but he knew that he had to wait. He forced all dark thoughts from his mind, and leaned against the wall of the inn, careful not to meet a passerby's gaze. He put himself into the mindset of an idler, with nowhere else to go.
He'd left his pocket watch at home.
He alternated between staring blankly ahead and lifting his gaze to sweep it up and down the narrow street.
Then, for a moment, he couldn't understand what he was seeing. Mere feet away, a woman rode out of the inn yard. It was Mel. He couldn't be mistaken. She was on a poor excuse for a horse. Riding astride, on a broken down nag, without so much as a saddle or bridle!
He had to get to her. "Mel!"
As soon as he laid hold of the horse's bridle, he met Mel's gaze and winked at her, then put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly.
14. Return to Linton House
Melly stared in disbelief. Her eyes widened. What on earth was Linton wearing? He looked like a workman.
His hands closed around her waist, and he pulled her into his arms. She felt his warmth, but still couldn't believe that she was safe.
Gently he set her feet on the ground. "Are you well?" He asked, and studied her, until she flushed under his intense gaze.
"I am unharmed, I assure you," she said, still not believing that he had found her. "How did you find me?"
She was very relieved. Although she had believed that she would be able to find her way home across London, she would be seen, and questions would be asked. She'd lost her hat and gloves, her hair was in violent disarray, and she was dirty. No doubt she also smelled. And yet another scandal would engulf the Eardleys.
"Hexham," he said shortly.
She heard the rattle of the carriage which drew up beside them. It was Linton's, with three footmen. One footman was on the seat beside the coachman, and two footmen were at the back of the carriage.
The footmen leapt down, and surrounded them. They were armed, and it was as well that they were. The Blue Boar inn, she'd seen when she left the inn yard, was indeed in the docks area, and her heart had stuttered when she saw hard men stopping to stare at her.
When Linton hailed her, she was about to urge the mare into a trot, even though she had no idea how to get home.
Linton lifted her gently into the carriage. She inhaled deeply, and realized that she was shaking. Then she remembered. "Linton – the horse. I wish to buy the horse, if you please. I promised her that she would have a good home at Gostwicke Hall… Would you send someone to buy her?"
He looked startled, then merely nodded. He didn't argue, and her heart warmed at that.
Linton spoke briefly to a footman, and handed him a purse.
Then he climbed into the carriage, and the carriage moved off. Linton closed the shades on the windows.
Melly took a deep breath, and released it in a sigh. For the first time, she could relax. She leaned back against the cushions. Her shins ached. Her entire body ached.
"You are certain that you are well?"
Melly looked at her hands, then hid them in the skirts of her riding habit. "Randall, I am perfectly well, but I want to know how you found me — I thought that I would have to ride that dear little mare for hours until I found my way home."
"I found you quite easily," he said grimly, "and I will tell you how I came to do so, but first, please tell me what happened to you."
She looked at him from underneath her lashes. She had never seen him like
this. Although his demeanor was calm, anger vibrated off him. However, she wasn't frightened. Tears came to her eyes. She realized that in the back of her mind she had known that he would come and find her.
"Very well," she said, and lifted the window shade for a moment, so that she could look outside. Then she let it fall again. "I wanted to see where I am — I was blindfolded," she explained. "Henry and I were in the park," she began.
She told the story as clearly as she could, and by the time she was finished, the carriage had stopped. She moved the shade aside. "Linton House?"
She looked at him in surprise.
"Yes. Your mother and Anne were out all day, at Richmond Park. Catherine suggested that they needn't know what happened, and I agree. The fewer people who know, the better. I'll send for your maid, and for some clothes, with a message to say that you're dining with Grandmother."
He jumped from the carriage, and within a few moments, they were inside Linton House. "The housekeeper will take you upstairs – please come down when you're ready. I will return you home after dinner."
Melly had to be satisfied with that, because he turned and strode away.
"Miss Eardley — ma'am," the housekeeper coughed discreetly to gain her attention. "If you'll come with me?"
A couple of hours later, after a bath, and a rest, Millie felt much better. The housekeeper had used arnica cream on her shins, and another ointment for her hands. When she entered the large dining room, she was surprised to see that Linton was alone. She raised her eyebrows in enquiry.
He shook his head and smiled at her. "My grandmother thought that we should dine à deux. We have much to discuss. After this incident, we must marry as soon as possible."
Melly glanced at the servants. He nodded in understanding.
Two place settings had been set at the long table. Linton sat at the head of the table, with Melly immediately to his left. They were served soup, then Linton waved his hand and the servants left the room.
The mushroom and sherry soup smelled wonderful. Millie took a bread roll, tore it, buttered a piece, then took a spoonful of soup. It tasted as wonderful as it smelled. "The horse?" She asked.
The Lady and the Rake: A Scandalous Arrangement (The Eardleys of Gostwicke Hall Book 1) Page 16