Reluctant Escort

by Mary Nichols

  ‘Thrash me? I should like to see you try.’

  Duncan was still smarting from the humiliation of refusing Andrew Bellamy; he could not be seen to back down again. He launched himself at the man, knocking the pistol from his hand and pulling him in front of him so that the accomplice dared not shoot. When the second robber turned to see what was happening, Frank seized his chance to dive for his legs and pull him to the ground. In a moment he, too, was disarmed.

  Molly, quicker-thinking than even Duncan would have credited her with, picked up the pistol and handed it to him. ‘Thank you, my dear,’ he said calmly, pointing it at the robber. ‘Now, put everything back in the carriage as you found it.’

  Reluctantly they obeyed, bundling Molly’s clothes back into her trunk and forcing the lid shut, then replacing Martha’s few belongings in her portmanteau. They looked round when they had done this but Duncan was still watching them. ‘And the rest. And the cushions.’

  When they had finished Duncan strode over and pulled the masks from their faces. ‘So that I remember what the Dark Knight looks like,’ he said, smiling. ‘Now it is your turn to empty your pockets for me.’

  This revealed a purse of coins, a ring, a watch and a gold cross on a chain which Duncan took and put into his own pocket.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ the man asked, trembling.

  ‘What do you think I should do?’ Duncan was affable. ‘It might be quite a feather in my cap to be the means of apprehending the Dark Knight, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes, but…’

  Duncan turned to Molly. ‘What do you say, my dear? Shall we take these two incompetent snafflers to the law?’

  Molly was so relieved to learn that Duncan was not the Dark Knight after all, she was inclined to be lenient. ‘Not if they promise to turn over a new leaf. I should hate to be the one to bring them to the gallows.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, miss. God bless you.’ The second man spoke for the first time.

  Duncan smiled at Molly. ‘I think you are too kind-hearted, but as we are in some haste to continue our journey and I have no wish to waste time answering questions I shall do nothing.’ He used the gun in his hand to point to the bank at the side of the road. ‘Now, stand over there.’

  They shuffled back, looking chagrined. ‘Further,’ Duncan commanded.

  They retreated another pace and fell backwards into the stream. There had been no rain for some time and there was more mud than water in it. While they scrambled to their feet, covered in stinking slime and weeds, Duncan ushered Molly back to the coach. Not until they were on their way again did he sit back and roar with laughter.

  ‘It is not funny,’ she said, realising she was trembling all over now that the danger had passed.

  ‘Oh, it is; it certainly is. You will never know how comical it is. To be held up by the notorious Dark Knight in broad daylight and best him. Oh, that is the greatest entertainment I have had in years.’

  ‘Entertainment!’ She could hear Frank, on the box, chuckling too and Martha protesting. ‘I begin to think you are both a little touched in the attic. We could all have been killed.’

  He attempted to be serious and for a moment stopped laughing, but then the thought of those two men set him chuckling all over again.

  ‘You are mad,’ she said. ‘You should be giving thanks for our deliverance.’

  ‘Oh, I do, I do.’ He chinked the man’s purse in his pocket. ‘In more ways than one.’

  ‘You can’t keep that; it should go back to the poor man from whom it was stolen.’

  ‘And you know it was stolen, do you?’

  ‘Of course it was. So was the ring and the crucifix. You should hand it to the watch at the next place we stop.’

  ‘They would not pass it on, even if they knew who had lost it, and I had as lief it was in my pocket as theirs.’

  ‘That man thought you were Mr Bellamy.’

  ‘I rather fancy he did, but it is hardly surprising; we are travelling in the Brancaster family carriage.’

  ‘And you are not the Dark Knight,’ she murmured pensively.

  ‘Did I ever say I was?’

  ‘No, I allow you did not, but…’

  ‘You thought I was and now you are disappointed.’ He spoke softly, not laughing now. ‘Captain Duncan Stacey is no more than he claims to be—a half-pay officer with as little romance in him as a tin kettle. I am afraid, my dear, I am no Don Quixote, not a bit of good at tilting at windmills.’

  She smiled suddenly. ‘You defended me very well when that man threatened to lay hands on me.’

  ‘Oh, that was nothing.’

  ‘He could have shot you.’

  ‘No, my dear, I do not think so. But you are shaking.’ He put his head out of the door and shouted up at Frank. ‘Stop at the next respectable hostelry, Sergeant. We’ll rest the horses and have something to eat and drink before going on.’

  There were several people in the dining room of the inn they chose in Saffron Walden, but they were quickly served. Frank and Martha finished their meal first and went to the stables to see that the horses were being well looked after and made ready again for the road, leaving Duncan and Molly talking to a clerical gentleman and his wife.

  The Reverend was as thin as his lady was fat; he wore generous side whiskers but was otherwise quite bald and he was holding forth to all who would listen about the evils of travelling in a country that was rapidly going to the devil.

  ‘Beggars and thieves everywhere,’ he said, waving his spoon about. ‘A man of the cloth should be able to travel freely in his own coach without fearing for his life. Forced from our carriage at pistol-point, we were, and all our belongings taken.’

  Molly looked at Duncan, but he was concentrating on the plum duff on his plate. ‘Sir, I am sorry for your misfortune,’ she said. ‘Tell me, when did this happen?’

  ‘Early this morning,’ he said. ‘On the way here from Cambridge. We had set out early because I wished to make one or two pastoral calls on the way. We had just left the town behind and were making good progress over the Gog Magog hills when the two men sprang out at us. They took everything we possessed—my purse and watch, my wife’s betrothal ring with a fine ruby in its centre. Even my crucifix.’

  ‘It is a very frightening experience, I know,’ Molly said. ‘We, too, were stopped on the road by two such evil-looking characters as you are likely to meet in a twelve-month.’

  ‘Why, ma’am, it sounds very much like the same two,’ he said. ‘I am a man of peace and I expected my cloth to protect me. I begin to wonder what the world is coming to, when no one has any respect for a man of God.’

  ‘No, it is to be deplored,’ Duncan said. ‘We were stopped, ‘tis true, but the rogues took nothing. We were able to turn the tables on them.’

  ‘Then you were indeed fortunate,’ the Reverend said. ‘I should have put up some resistance, but they threatened to harm my wife if I attempted it.’

  ‘You lost a crucifix and a watch, you say?’ Duncan asked.

  ‘Yes, the crucifix was of solid silver on a silver chain. The watch was presented to me by grateful parishioners when I left my last living and is inscribed.’

  ‘I do believe we have them safe,’ Molly said. ‘The Captain relieved the robbers of them when he retrieved our own belongings.’

  Duncan took the watch from his pocket and examined the inscription. ‘Be so good as to tell me your name, sir.’

  ‘Josiah Appleby.’ He called the landlord over to him. ‘Gilpott, tell this gentleman my name, if you please.’

  Mr Gilpott looked startled, but furnished the information, adding that he had known the Reverend gentleman some years and he was a regular customer of the inn. Duncan smiled and handed over the watch together with the money and the other items he had taken from the highwaymen. ‘One cannot be too careful,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, thank you, sir!’ Mrs Appleby exclaimed as the landlord went to look after a new arrival. ‘How very fortunate we met up with
you.’

  ‘Let me recompense you,’ the Reverend said, opening the purse and extracting two guineas.

  ‘No, not to be thought of,’ Duncan said. ‘Glad to be of service.’ Though he was speaking to the Reverend he was not looking at him, but at a man in a frieze coat and a shallow hat who had just entered the room. He was accompanied by the innkeeper who brought him across to where the parson sat.

  ‘This ‘ere’s a Bow Street Runner, Reverend,’ the landlord said. ‘He’s investigating this ‘ere Dark Knight on behalf of Sir John Partridge what was ‘eld up by ‘im some few days ago. I told ‘im you could, like as not, furnish ‘im with details.’

  ‘Indeed I can, and so can these people here, for we have both been victims of that gentleman and his accomplice.’

  ‘Is that so?’ The Runner looked at Duncan.

  Duncan cursed inwardly but produced a lazy smile. ‘Yes, but they took nothing from us and I can tell you no more about them than the Reverend. I fancy they rode off towards Newmarket.’

  ‘One of them admitted to being the Dark Knight,’ Molly put in.

  ‘Are you sure they were both men?’ the Runner asked. ‘There is some doubt that one might be a female. There was a woman at the inn in Aylsham who turned up in the middle of the night, bold as you please.’

  ‘Gammon!’ Duncan said, ignoring Molly’s splutter as she tried not to laugh. ‘Two men, you may depend upon it.’

  ‘And did one have a scar on his face?’

  ‘I saw no scar,’ Duncan said, praying that Frank would not enter the room just then to tell them the carriage was ready for departure.

  ‘I wonder,’ the Runner said thoughtfully. ‘Can there be more than one Dark Knight?’

  ‘I shouldn’t be surprised,’ Duncan said. ‘The country is full of scamps.’

  ‘May I ask your business, sir? Where you came from and where you are bound?’ And, seeing Duncan’s frown, he added, ‘My duty, you understand, sir; no wish to pry. Discretion’s my name. Little lady’s name will not be mentioned.’

  Molly held her breath, but Duncan simply changed his frown to a benign smile. ‘It is no secret, sir. I am escorting Miss Martineau to her mama in London from Stacey Manor, at the request of Lady Connaught, her godmother. You may check with her ladyship if you wish.’ He stood up and turned to Molly. ‘My dear, we shall be late arriving at your mama’s, if we do not leave at once.’ Bowing to the parson’s wife and bidding her husband good day, he hurried Molly from the room, giving her no time to protest that she had not finished her meal.

  ‘That was very uncivil of you,’ Molly protested as she was bundled into the carriage and Duncan climbed in behind her. ‘You could have described those two ruffians much better than the Reverend, for you pulled the masks from their faces.’

  ‘If we had stayed we would have been there until supper time answering questions,’ he said as they moved forward with the riding horses tied on behind. ‘The episode has already delayed us.’

  ‘But you could have helped the Runner to catch the Dark Knight.’

  ‘So I could,’ he said, a quirky smile playing about his lips. The two robbers were an unexpected blessing; they would keep the Runner busy for a good day—long enough for him to deliver Molly to Holles Street and report to the War Department. ‘But I did not choose to. He will manage well enough.’

  ‘I wish I knew what deep game you are playing,’ she said. ‘You are not at all what I expected of a romantic hero.’

  ‘And I never expected to be obliged to play the role,’ he retorted.

  She sighed. ‘I know that for you are singularly ill fitted for it.’ ‘I am a soldier—or I was until Boney decided to throw in the sponge. Now I am a common man with pockets to let. Mayhap when you find yourself in among the ton you will meet someone who fits your bill.’

  ‘Oh, do you think I will?’

  He shrugged, unwilling to admit that he envied whoever it might be. ‘I do not know, for it is years since I was in Society. But I will tell you this. It is no good puffing a man up in your imagination and then complaining when he don’t live up to it. We are all human with human frailties, whatever those novels you read say to the contrary.’

  ‘No, I can see if I did that it might cause disappointment,’ she said, so seriously that he found himself smiling. ‘You think I should be a little sceptical?’

  ‘It might be wise. But tell me, Molly, exactly what are you anticipating?’

  ‘I do not know. To be introduced into Society, to go to routs and soirées and to the theatre. Above all, I should like to go to a ball and have all the eligibles at my feet.’ She sighed. ‘But I know that is only a dream because I am not at all beautiful and I do not know how to converse with all the latest on-dit, and the ballgown you bought for me is so dirty and creased where those men trampled it in the dust that I have nothing to wear. But it would be so gratifying if just one gentleman paid me a little attention.’

  ‘Only one?’ he queried a little pensively. ‘Such modest expectations! But I collect he would have to be rich and have a title, or the prospect of one?’

  ‘No. It is not at all necessary, though perhaps Mama might think so.’

  ‘Oh, undoubtedly your mama would think so,’ he agreed.

  ‘But that would be unrealistic, don’t you think? I have no fortune which, I am persuaded, would make up for all the other deficiencies.’

  ‘It might indeed,’ he said. ‘It seems you must settle for a man of no particular importance, without a fortune or a title—in short any tulip who pays you his addresses.’ He stopped when he saw the distress on her face. How could he be so insensitive? Was it because Bellamy had been so particular towards her and she had obviously been delighted by him? Or was it because they were so near to Foxtrees, his ancestral home? Not five miles from here, his brother enjoyed what should have been his and which would have made him someone of consequence, able to pay his addresses to any lady he fancied in the proper manner.

  But it was grossly unfair of him to take his disappointment out on his young companion. He turned to her, speaking softly. ‘Molly, I am sorry. I had no right to speak like that. I was simply trying to point out the pitfalls of being too trusting. I am not the only rakeshame you are likely to meet.’

  ‘No, but I am not such a sapskull as to think you are. And I am not at my last prayers yet.’ Which, without her realising it, put him firmly in his place.

  ‘Captain,’ Frank called down from the box. ‘I fancy we are being followed. There have been horses behind us for several miles.’

  Duncan put his head out of the door and looked back. ‘Slow down and see if they pass.’

  Frank did so and two horsemen rode up alongside them. One doffed his hat and grinned at Duncan as he came level with the door of the coach.

  ‘Bellamy!’ Duncan exclaimed.

  ‘I shall be waiting for you,’ he shouted as he galloped past. ‘That is if you can find the courage.’ His last words were carried on the wind.

  ‘What did he mean?’ Molly asked.

  Duncan made a valiant effort not to betray his fury. ‘I expect he is just making sure we do not damage his carriage or spoil his horses.’

  ‘I am sure he has no need to worry on that score, though you have been galloping the cattle very hard today.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, can you not keep quiet about anything?’ he demanded. ‘You must have your say and state your opinion on every subject from highwaymen to horseflesh and I am sick of it.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ she said. ‘I will not say another word.’ And this time she meant it. He had never spoken to her like that before, however annoyed he had been, and she was confused and hurt.

  The nearer they came to their destination, the more gloomy he seemed to become. Perhaps he was anticipating a jobation from her mother or perhaps he had realised he ought to do something about his ramshackle life. He had been very quick and brave when the highwaymen had held them up and he was used to taking command—anyone could see that�
�so why could he not find useful employment? Surely it was not so difficult for officers as it was for the men?

  They travelled in silence until they arrived in Bishops Stortford, where they pulled into the yard of an inn. Duncan bespoke rooms for them and they went up to change for supper.

  When Molly returned downstairs, he was waiting to escort her into the dining room. He smiled at her, his ill humour apparently forgotten, and opened the door for her to precede him. They were followed by Frank and Martha.

  ‘Why, here is Mr Bellamy and Mr Lampson!’ Molly exclaimed, spotting the two men at one of the tables.

  Andrew rose, smiling, and took her hand to raise it to his lips. ‘Miss Martineau, what a great pleasure it is to meet you again so soon.’ He held onto her hand and looked into her eyes, making her blush. ‘You are still in the same bad company, I see.’

  ‘Now that is very unkind of you, sir,’ she said. ‘What has the Captain done to deserve such animosity?’

  ‘He knows. But we will not speak of it in company. Please join me.’ He indicated seats at his table.

  Duncan was silent and she looked round for him. He was making his way to another table. ‘Thank you, Mr Bellamy, but not tonight,’ she said. ‘We are all very tired from travelling and shall undoubtedly retire early.’

  He bowed. ‘Another time, perhaps, when you are not so constrained.’

  ‘I am not constrained,’ she said. ‘But yes, perhaps another time.’

  She turned and walked slowly over to where Duncan, Frank and Martha had settled themselves and were ordering food.

  ‘You could at least have been civil to him,’ she said to Duncan, taking her place next to him. ‘He has been very obliging, after all, and it is not fair to take your dismals out on him.’

  ‘Miss Martineau, you do not know the truth of it,’ Frank put in. ‘The Captain…’

  ‘Sergeant, be silent!’ Duncan commanded.

  Molly had never heard Duncan speak to Frank like that and she felt very embarrassed on his behalf, though he said nothing, but subsided into his seat and concentrated on the mutton chop and sausages on his plate.

  It was a very silent meal, fraught with tension, and Molly was glad when it was over and she could retire to her room.