by Mary Nichols
They did not stop to ask why, but turned the table over and rushed for a door at the back of the room. While everyone else scram bled for the money that was rolling all over the floor, James and Sam took up the chase. It took them down corridors and through other rooms where the sleeping occupants, being rudely awakened, yelled at them, then out into a court yard, which had an archway large enough for a vehicle to pass through, and the men were running towards that, only to be con fronted by Merryweather and Green. They dodged sideways, one going one way, one the other. James could not shoot for fear of hitting one or other of his own men, so he dropped the gun and hurled himself at Randle, bringing him to the ground. The man squirmed out of his way and produced a knife. James dodged it, but he was not quite quick enough and felt a stinging cut to his cheek. Ignoring the blood, he threw himself on top of the man, struggling for possession of the knife. It was a struggle that ended when James groped for his gun and, having retrieved it, put it to the man’s head. ‘Surrender or I fire.’
‘All right, you’ve got me.’
James got to his feet, to allow the man to get up, but Randle was not done yet. He dived for James with his knife. A shot rang out and the man crumpled at his feet. James spun round to see Sam with his pistol smoking. ‘Thanks, Sam, but I wanted him alive.’ That surprised him. A year ago he would have been more than tempted to put an end to their existence himself, but now, thanks to Amy, he knew that was not the way. Justice must be done, but it must also be seen to be done.
‘My pleasure, Captain. And I only winged him,’ Sam said.
That was evident because Randle was sitting up holding his hand over his upper arm. Blood oozed between his fingers. James was glad the man was not dead; he wanted him to stand trial, along with his accomplice, who had been caught by the villagers. ‘A good night’s work,’ Merryweather said. ‘What do you want us to do with them?’
‘We’ll take them to the lockup for the night. Tomorrow, they must be taken to London.’
‘You ought to have that cut seen to, Captain,’ Green said.
James dabbed at it with his handkerchief. ‘’Tis only a scratch. I’ll see these two safely in custody first.’
They manacled both men, ignoring Randle’s yells of pain, and drove them before them to the town jail. On the corner of the High Street, they came across Joe, eager to know what had happened. His eyes widened at the sight of the manacled men. ‘What you goin’ to do with ’em?’ he asked.
‘They are going to stand trial for murder,’ James told him.
‘Murder!’
‘Yes. You deserve a reward for helping us turn them in.’
‘A reward?’ His face lit up. ‘Do that make me a thieftaker?’
James laughed. ‘I suppose it does.’ He paused. The boy looked thinner than ever and he did not doubt he had little enough to eat. And what sort of mother was it who let her child sleep in the streets because she wanted to be with her new man? ‘Do you want to work?’
‘What kind o’ work?’ he asked warily.
‘Stable boy. You aren’t afraid of horses, are you?’
‘Course not.’
James turned to Sam. ‘Go and find his mother. If she agrees, take him home with you and get Mrs Landis to give him something to eat. And make sure he washes.’
He watched Sam and the boy go, then followed Green and Merryweather with the prisoners. By the time he had completed a report on the cir cum stances of the arrest for the magistrate and a doctor had seen to Randle and declared him fit to be locked up along with Smith, it was almost dawn. It had been a long and eventful night, but it was over now. The door to the past had been shut with the banging of that cell door on those two murderers; the way to the future finally lay open. He fetched his horse from where he had left it and rode back to Highbeck.
In the navy he had become used to long hours of wakefulness, especially when in action, and the night just gone had been one of those. It left him keyed up, restless, and yet bone weary. He needed to sleep, but more than anything he wanted to see Amy. Every minute in her company was precious, every minute apart one of anxiety.
Chapter Ten
It was dawn when Amy was awakened by a tapping sound and sat up in fright, only to realise it was a branch on the tree outside her window, tap-tapping on the glass, as if someone was asking to come in. She had personally checked every door and window after everyone had gone to bed, but every creak of the old building, every rattle of the window pane, startled her. It was as if the very wind was a threat, and that she knew was foolish. She could not help thinking of what Widow Twitch had said about the men James was seeking being in Ely. Had she been right? Were they in Ely? She felt sure James would go looking for them, but supposing he did not find them? Supposing he found them and they had put up a fight? Supposing he had been hurt? She could not lie still and decided to get up and dress.
Her aunts, her mother and Mr Portman were still in bed and would probably stay there until noon. She dressed, ate her break fast with the servants and hurried to the Lodge.
James was crossing the yard from the stables when she arrived. He looked exhausted. His face was muddy and caked with blood, although she could clearly see a nasty cut on one of his cheeks. There was a bruise on his brow and another on his chin. His hair was matted and his coat, a fustian frock such as artisans wore, was torn. She ran to him. ‘James, what happened? You are hurt.’
Even in his weary state his heart beat faster at the sight of her. She was dressed very simply in a pink-and-white striped gingham gown and a cottager hat, which had fallen down her back on its ribbons. Her expressive eyes told of deep concern. He gave her a crooked smile. ‘It is only a scratch.’
‘It looks more than a scratch to me. It needs attending to.’ She took his arm and pulled him into the house, where Mrs Landis clucked around them like a worried hen. ‘Oh, mercy me, what has happened to you, Captain?’
‘It is nothing. All I need is a wash and some sleep.’
‘Can you find some salve?’ Amy asked her. ‘A bowl of warm water and some clean cloths. Bring them to the Captain’s bedchamber. I must tend to his wounds and then he must rest.’
‘Amy, what are you about?’ he pro tested, as she led him upstairs to his room and pushed him down into a chair.
‘Giving succour. It is no more than you did for me.’ She turned as Mrs Landis appeared with the items she had asked for and stood the bowl of water on the washstand. Amy dipped a cloth in it and began gently bathing his wounds. He suffered this without speaking. ‘It is not so bad now it is cleaned up,’ she said when it was done. ‘You look almost human again.’
‘Thank you for that,’ he said wryly, as Mrs Landis left them, murmuring something about making him some break fast.
‘What happened? Do you want to tell me?’
‘Last night I finally closed a chapter on my past,’ he told her.
‘Your past?’ she queried in surprise.
‘Yes. It transpires your aunts’ visitors were the two murderers I have been chasing these last two years.’
‘The men who killed your wife? Oh, James!’ She paused. ‘You mean they have nothing to do with Duncan after all?’
‘No, I do not mean that. They were also your husband’s tormentors. I realised that when you sketched them. They turned out to be the men who held up our coach, too.’
‘Did they not know you?’ she asked.
‘There was no reason why they should. They knew they were being sought, but I doubt they had ever known my name, or Carrie’s. When I went to the stews and haunts of such men looking for information, I used an alias. They will not be troubling us again. They are safely under lock and key.’
‘And they did this to you?’
‘We had a little struggle. One of them attacked me with a knife.’
‘Oh, James, you could have been killed!’ she cried.
He smiled crookedly and put his arm about her waist, drawing her closer to him. ‘You sound as if you care?’
&
nbsp; ‘Of course I care.’ She could feel the warmth of his hand on her flesh through her thin bodice; it sent waves of desire flooding through her. It was wrong. The time and the place were wrong. He had just come back from avenging the death of his wife whom he had loved. She drew away from him. ‘You need to rest.’
He could not deny that. ‘Yes. Go home, my dear. I will call on you later. Perhaps we can complete the ride we began yesterday.’
Yesterday. Was it only yesterday? She coloured at the memory of that kiss and the way she had responded to it. If Widow Twitch had not arrived, she would have been lost to all reason and told him she loved him and left herself open to rejection and more heart break. She was doubly glad she had not, considering that the two men who had been skulking in the grounds had been the two who killed his wife. Had he known that before she showed him her sketch? ‘Do not come if you do not feel up to it,’ she said. ‘I can forgo my ride.’
He rose, opened the door for her and then raised her hand to his lips. ‘I will come.’
As soon as she had gone, he went back to fall across his bed where he fell immediately into a deep and healing sleep.
Amy spent the rest of the morning sketching, trying not to show her impatience for James to come, though her ears were attuned to the sound of horse’s hooves. But perhaps he was not well enough, perhaps the effects of the struggle were worse than they thought. He might not come at all. In that case, she would go and see for herself how he did.
He arrived a little after one o’clock, dressed for riding. His bruises were a colourful mix of red, yellow and purple, but he appeared in good spirits.
‘Are you well enough to ride?’ she asked him.
‘Of course. Are you ready?’
‘Yes, I have only to put on my boots and hat. Would you be kind enough to ask for my mount to be saddled while I am gone?’
He bowed. ‘Of course. I will wait for you in the stable yard.’
‘I knew as soon as Widow Twitch said those men were in Ely, that you would go chasing after them,’ she said, as they rode. ‘It kept me awake most of the night.’
‘Is that why you were up betimes?’
‘Yes. I could not rest until I knew you were safe.’
‘Thank you for that.’ He smiled wryly. ‘But there is still Mr Gotobed to deal with.’
‘Perhaps when he hears the other two have been captured, he will go away and leave us in peace.’
‘Let us hope so.’ But he did not sound very optimistic.
They stopped to greet the workers in the field and exchange a few words with them about the hay making, then rode round the open water of the fen and looked at the wind mills, which were spaced along the dykes and turning frantically in the rising wind. Completing the circuit, they returned to the Manor. James helped Amy to dismount and accompanied her inside. He did not want to leave her.
She ran up to change while he made his way to the drawing room where Sophie and Harry were talking with the aunts. ‘I hope I do not intrude,’ he said, bowing to them.
‘Not at all, Captain, you are always welcome,’ Harriet told him and then, seeing his bruises, added, ‘Whatever has happened to you? Did your horse throw you?’
He grinned crookedly. ‘No, it was not a horse.’
‘You look as though you have been in a scrap,’ Harry said.
‘So I have.’ He turned back to Harriet. ‘You will be pleased to hear you have seen the last of those two unwanted callers.’
‘Oh, mercy me!’ exclaimed Matilda, putting a plump hand to her heart. ‘Whatever have you done?’
‘I tracked them down to Ely. They put up a fight, but I had Sam and the miller and black smith to help me and they are now under lock and key.’
‘I am very glad to hear it,’ Harriet said. ‘We are in your debt.’
‘Nonsense. I have been looking for those two for an age, they are known criminals. With them behind bars, everyone can sleep more safely in their beds.’
‘Thank the good Lord for that,’ Matilda said. ‘Did Amy know about it?’
‘Not until she saw me returning when it was all over.’ He grinned ruefully. ‘I am afraid I presented a sorry sight.’
‘I see you were not so incapacitated you could not ride,’ Sophie put in.
‘No, ’tis but a scratch and a bruise or two, which will soon be gone.’
‘Did you enjoy your ride?’ Sophie went on.
‘Yes, indeed. We looked at wind mills and spoke to the villagers anxiously trying to get the hay in before it rains.’
‘I’ve a mind to go and watch them,’ Harry said. ‘Will you bear me company, Captain?’
James hesitated. He knew Harry wanted to talk to him. ‘You are hardly dressed for a country stroll, sir.’
‘Then I shall change.’ He jumped to his feet and disappeared.
Sophie laughed. ‘I cannot think what has got into him. He is not usually so energetic. But if he is going out, then I shall go to my room and practise my scales.’ And she, too, left.
‘How is Amy this morning?’ Matilda asked James, after they had both gone. ‘I heard her creep down stairs very early this morning and feared she could not sleep.’
‘I believe she went out to take food to the villagers.’
‘She is very naughty,’ Harriet said. ‘She knew she should not go out alone.’
‘But it is just like her to think of the poor,’ Matilda added. ‘Such a kind heart as she has.’
‘Indeed, yes,’ he agreed. ‘But I did admonish her.’ He paused. ‘I believe her memory is finally returning. She was able to give me an account of what had happened in London to send her flying to you.’
‘Thank goodness. I hope it means she can put it all behind her now and be happy again.’
‘You do not wish it any more heartily than I do,’ he said.
‘I knew it,’ Matilda said, smiling broadly. ‘You have more than a passing interest in our niece. I knew it weeks ago.’
‘Then, madam, you were ahead of me,’ he said, more amused than annoyed by the lady’s romanticism. ‘I would not be such a rake shame as to allow myself that indulgence. Until a se’ennight ago I believed Mrs Macdonald to be a married woman.’
‘But now she is a widow nothing stands in your way,’ Matilda pointed out.
‘Except the lady’s own inclinations,’ he said, drily. He had no intention of admitting anything until he had spoken to Amy herself.
‘Oh, she will,’ Matilda said complacently. ‘Depend upon it, she will have you.’
He turned as Amy came into the room dressed in a flower-embroidered gown in a blue that matched her lovely eyes. She was followed by Harry Portman in the rough cloth coat and breeches very similar to those James had donned the night before. James smiled; it would not for a moment deceive the villagers who could spot a foreigner from half a mile, foreigner being the name attributed to anyone from outside the area, but his garb would attract less ridicule than his usual finery.
James left Amy in the care of her aunts and he and Portman left. While on their walk he reported on his adventures the night before and the capture of Smith and Randle.
‘You might have told me what you were about, Drymore,’ Harry said, aggrieved. ‘I could have come with you.’
‘I did not think it was something you would enjoy,’ James remarked.
‘Why not? I can handle myself in a fight, I promise you. And you knew I wanted to talk to those men.’
‘You can still talk to them, though I doubt they will tell you very much.’
‘What about the treasure?’ Harry asked. ‘Did they tell you anything about that?’
‘No.’ James laughed. ‘I am persuaded that is a fiction, invented by Duncan Macdonald.’
‘I pray you are right. But I am told there is another man skulking about who might be on the same errand.’
‘Gotobed. He was in prison at the same time as Macdonald, but he was found not guilty and, as far as I am aware, has not committed a crime since being released.
I have no reason to arrest him.’ James chuckled. ‘Not that I would not enjoy doing so. He seems to think the way to riches is through Mrs Macdonald, but it might be nothing more than the Manor estate he is thinking of. It will be hers one day.’
‘And you, of course, have no interest in that direction, have you?’ Harry laughed and punched James playfully on the arm, making him wince when he found one of his bruises.
‘The Manor? No, definitely not,’ James said.
‘I did not mean the Manor, man, and you know it. The lady herself is delectable. And free now.’
James was inclined to be annoyed. Why was everyone trying to throw them together? Was he so very trans parent? He would have to do something about it before Amy became the butt of their jokes. Darling Amy. He could not imagine a life without her.
‘Do you have a gig?’ Harry asked suddenly.
‘Yes. Why do you ask?’
‘I would borrow it to go to Ely to talk to those men.’
‘Then I will take you.’ James would not mind asking Smith and Randle a few questions himself. He had not had the opportunity to interrogate them the night before.
They turned and went back to the Lodge where they found Joe Potton at work cleaning out the stables. He stopped when James appeared. ‘I am going to take the gig out, Joe,’ he said.
Joe rushed to help harness the horse. James stood and watched him for a minute. The boy was cleaner now, his hair a shining gold halo, and he worked deftly, backing the pony into the shafts and fastening the straps. ‘Who taught you to do that?’ he asked.
‘Sam. He’s a real gentry cove, is Sam.’
James smiled. ‘Yes, he is. So you think you will be happy here?’
‘Oh, yes, ’tis better than sleeping in doorways and being kicked about by coves like those two you nabbed yesterday, tha’s for sure.’