by Mary Nichols
‘It is the least likely way to be spotted by the villagers,’ James told Sir John as they scram bled in and Sam began to row. ‘The sound of horsemen riding through the village would certainly alert the inhabitants and after the excitement of bringing in Gotobed they would love another capture.’
‘I assume you are helping me on account of my daughter.’
‘Your assumption is correct. For no one else would I lay aside my scruples, but for that I require something from you.’
‘I have nothing. If you are talking about that gold…’
‘Gold!’ James was contemptuous. ‘I have something worth more than all the gold in the kingdom—the love of your daughter. No, what I need from you is a solemn promise from you that you will never return to England, nor do anything to aid the Pretender or the Young Pretender to return. I assume Prince Charles has already left the country.’
Sir John laughed. ‘Yes. He came thinking his supporters would flock to him, that if they pledged their assistance it might persuade King Louis to invade. It was a foolish notion, as I told him, no one would give money and weapons to a man who had been so roundly defeated before, even if they were sympathetic to the Cause. We had the devil of a job to get him back to his ship. Once he had been seen, everyone in the capital was on the alert.’
James was vastly relieved. He did not think he could have gone through with this escapade if the Prince had still been on English soil. ‘Why did you not go with him?’
‘I wanted to see Amy. Contrary to what you may think, I love my daughter very much.’
‘I am sure you do. Who could not help loving her?’
The older man smiled. ‘I am glad she has you. I commend her to your care. I am only sorry I cannot be at your nuptials.’
‘Rest assured, Sir John, Amy will have all the love and care I can give her. And she will be happy to know you are safe out of harm’s way.’
‘There is no gold?’ Sam queried.
‘If there is, I do not know where it is. Sorry to disappoint you.’
They had passed through the village and the dyke gave way to the river. Sam shipped his oars and they disembarked. Two horses stood tethered to a bush on the tow-path, neither of which were James’s black stallion. ‘Sam, what were you thinking of?’ James asked. ‘Where is my mount?’
‘Beggin’ your pardon, Captain, but you ain’t comin’ any further. If I’d had my way, you wouldn’t have come this far. For Mrs Macdonald’s sake, I will see the gentleman safely on board a ship to take him to the Dutch coast and I will stay until it sets sail, just to make sure he goes. You go back.’
‘No. I go on. You go back.’
‘Sorry, sir, but we can’t stand here arguing all night.’ And with that he punched his master so hard on the jaw, James went down like a stone.
When he came to his senses, both Sam and Sir John had gone. Without a mount there was no way he could catch them. There was nothing to do but to return to the boat and row back the way he had come.
It was not yet dawn when he arrived at the Lodge. He crept up to his room, but instead of going to bed, he sat at the window and looked out on the moonlit landscape, fearful for Sam. He would have no peace until he was back safe and sound, but that did not mean he would not have some hard words to say to him when he did. And then he chuckled. No one but Sam would have dared to put him out like that. If he had been aware of what was coming, he would certainly not have succeeded.
He could see the roof and turrets of the Manor and wondered if Amy were awake and thinking of him, as he was thinking of her. He was impatient for the last of the night to go so that he could go back to her. Had Sir John already been missed? What would they do? According to Susan, nothing. ‘They’ll be mighty glad to see the back of him,’ she had said. Susan would be worrying about Sam, too.
The sun came up over the horizon, a great golden ball in a lilac-and-pink sky. He washed, shaved and dressed without Sam’s help, ate a lei surely break fast, careful not to appear hurried, though inside his impatience was making him jittery. He sat at his desk and wrote a report for Henry Fielding about the capture of Smith, Randle and Gotobed, though he wondered if they could make any charge stick on that slippery customer. Just as he was finishing it, Sam came into the room.
James looked up at him, immeasurably relieved to see him, but hiding behind a severe expression. ‘Well, what have you to say for yourself?’
‘Sorry, Captain. It had to be done.’
‘I ought to send you packing.’ He watched Sam’s jaw drop, then laughed and stood up to clap the man on the back. ‘But if he has gone, I will forgive you.’
‘He has gone. We arrived just as a vessel was leaving. It sailed before daylight.’
‘And you galloped your horse to exhaustion to get back, I suppose.’
‘I had two horses, as you recall, Captain. Rode them turn and turn about across country. I reckon I must ha’ broke all records.’
‘Then go and find some sleep. I am going to the Manor,’ James said.
He arrived as Harry and Sophie were setting off back to London behind the prison wagon with its three prisoners and mounted escort. The fourth, so James was told, had disappeared in the night. ‘You would not know anything about that, Drymore, would you?’ Harry asked.
‘Me? Why would you think that?’ He affected innocence, while searching out Amy among those come to see them off, which seemed to be half the village. She was not there. ‘How did he escape?’
‘I have no idea. The guard swears he did not pass him.’ He paused. ‘You seem to have a sore jaw, Captain Drymore.’
‘’Tis nothing. I ran into a tree in the dark.’
‘Hmm. Strange tree, one with legs, I fancy.’
James grinned back, but did not en lighten him.
‘I am glad he has gone,’ Sophie said. ‘I could not have borne the scandal. Let us go, Harry. I cannot wait to get back to London.’
‘Are you coming with us?’ Harry asked James.
‘No, I have unfinished business here. But you can take this report to Henry Fielding, if you will.’
He watched the cavalcade set off, then turned to go indoors. As he did so, he looked up and saw Amy at the window of her room. He bounded up the stairs two at a time and burst through the door, much to the dismay of Susan. ‘Go and find Sam,’ he told her, as Amy turned from the window to face him. She was in a cream dressing robe, her fair hair loose about her shoulders. She looked altogether delectable.
They were unaware of the click of the door latch as Susan left them, but simply stood looking at each other, not speaking. He had expected her to run into his arms, but when she did not, became bewildered and anxious, and also a little annoyed.
She saw the upright, honourable man whom she loved above everything looking like a boy waiting for praise for what he had done. But she knew he had com promised his integrity for her sake. Whether to be furiously angry or grateful she did not know and was as perplexed as he was.
‘Sweetheart,’ he said. ‘How are you?’
‘I am well. Did you burst into my room only to ask me that?’
‘It is important to me. You saw them go?’
‘Without my father, yes. Where is he, James?’ she asked.
‘Halfway to Holland, I imagine.’
‘You helped him.’ It was a flat statement and he did not deny it.
‘What else could we do? Did you want to see him dragged off to London and tried for treason?’
‘You know I did not.’
‘I could not let it happen, Amy. Right or wrong, he is your father, after all.’ He stroked his hand over his jaw. It had been a powerful blow and still hurt.
‘Did he do that to you?’
‘No. Sam did. He did not approve of what I was doing. Wanted the glory all for himself.’
She smiled then at the idea of the faithful Sam doing his best to prevent his master doing something he knew to be unlawful, if not traitorous. ‘Does my mother know? Does Mr Portman?’
/> ‘If they have guessed, they are keeping their suspicions to them selves. I think Lady Charron is relieved there is to be no scandal.’ He took a step towards her. ‘Amy, why are we sparring when all I want to do is hold you close and tell you how much I love you?’
She could hold out no longer and ran into his arms to be kissed long and passionately until she had no breath left. ‘Oh, James, I have been so worried,’ she said, when at last they drew breath and found them selves sitting side by side on her bed. How they got there he did not know, but it made him realise that they would have to be married very soon or he would never hold out. ‘When Susan told me what you were doing, I was frightened to death. I imagined all manner of dreadful things happening to you…’
‘As you can see, nothing did. It is over, my darling, all the worry and heart ache. The country remains at peace, the criminals are under arrest, you and I have a bright and happy future before us.’
She realised quite suddenly that what he and Sam had done, though legally doubtful, had helped to preserve peace without any more loss of life. ‘Tell me about this future of ours.’
‘Well, for a start, there is to be a wedding…’
‘Where?’
‘As long as there is one, I have no preference as to where it takes place.’
‘Then here, in Highbeck, with all our friends about us. What next?’
‘We need a home, a small estate with a farm where we can bring up our children…’ He kissed her again, but this time, he curbed his passion and it was a gentle kiss of abiding love, a love that would last a lifetime. ‘I intend to make sure you have no more bad dreams, no more unhappy memories.’
‘Oh, James, that sounds like heaven.’ She paused. ‘But that will never be enough for you. I remember you saying you wanted to do something to help people.’
‘Yes, I did and so I shall. My interest is in law and order. Mr Fielding is setting up a body of men dedicated to doing that and has asked me to help, though in what capacity I do not yet know.’
‘You could stand for Parliament,’ she suggested.
‘So I could, but there is no hurry to decide. I want to spend some time with my wife first.’
She jumped up as foot steps sounded outside the door. ‘I must dress. We shall be the scandal of the house hold…’
He laughed and stood up as Susan came into the room. ‘Thank the Lord he is safe,’ the maid said. Then, seeing James standing by the window, ‘I beg your pardon, Captain. I did not know you were still here.’
‘I am about to go.’ He grinned at her. ‘Are we to offer felicitations?’
She blushed furiously. ‘Yes, though we were not going to say anything until after you were married.’
‘Oh, Susan, I am so happy for you,’ Amy said and ran to hug her maid. ‘You deserve all the happiness in the world.’
James smiled and left them. All was right with his world.
They were married six weeks later at the church in Highbeck. It was the soonest Harriet said they could be ready and even that, she said, was rushing it. But the day they waited for came at last. Amy woke to the clatter of servants putting the finishing touches to the decorations and the feast, super in tended by her aunts, whose shrill voices she could hear contradicting each other’s orders. She smiled and leapt out of bed and went to the window. The sun was shining in a cloudless sky, the birds were singing; it was all going to be perfect.
Susan, who had married Sam the week before, but had promised she and her new husband intended to stay in the service of their master and mistress, came into the room followed by two other servants who trooped in carrying a hip bath and jugs of hot water. ‘Time to dress, Miss Amy,’ she said.
Amy laughed. ‘You have always called me Miss Amy,’ she said, as the water was poured into the bath. ‘Even when I was married.’
‘Oh, that did not count. You are Miss Amy until you leave the church this morning, then you will be Mrs Drymore and I shall take pride in calling you madam.’
‘Mrs Drymore,’ Amy murmured. ‘Yes, I think I shall be proud to be that.’
The other servants disappeared and Susan helped Amy to bathe and dress. She did not want to have hoops so wide she could not stand close to her beloved James, so her gown was a sack dress over a slightly padded under skirt. In figured brocade in forget-me-not blue, it had a long train from the shoulders and lace edging to the square neck and round the sleeves at elbow level, which fanned out over her wrists. Her stomacher was a deeper blue embroidered with swirls of flowers and leaves. Susan wanted her to wear a white wig, but she would not. ‘My own hair, done simply,’ she said.
By the time the hair was coiled and curled and threaded with ribbon and Susan had fastened a necklace of pearls and sapphires, which had been James’s betrothal present, around her throat, the carriage was at the door. She slipped into her satin shoes and went slowly down stairs. It was strangely quiet as they were helped into the carriage; all the guests who were staying and as many of the servants as could be spared had already gone to the church.
James’s parents, brother and sister-in-law and the four children had all made the journey to see him married, so the Manor was bulging with guests. The Misses Hardwick had made them welcome and shown everyone they had not for got ten how to entertain. But afterwards they were going to move into the Lodge, leaving James and Amy to take over the Manor.
Their decision had shocked Amy, who had pro tested against it. ‘You love the old place, you know you do. You fought Cousin Gerald tooth and nail to keep it, so why have you changed your mind?’
‘We have not changed our mind. Letting Gerald have it was one thing, giving it you and James is entirely another. And in one thing our cousin was right—it is becoming too much for us. The Lodge will do us very well and we shall be close to you.’
Travelling in the flower-bedecked carriage to her wedding, she could not believe this was happening to her. Her marriage to Duncan had been a very muted affair, with only a handful of guests, mostly friends of Duncan and her mother and father. And her life afterwards had been far from smooth. But that was behind her. She knew, as surely as night followed day, that James would never do anything to hurt her. He loved her. And she loved him. Nothing and no one could alter that. Her life would be spent making him happy. She stepped out at the church door and waited patiently while Susan straightened her gown, then took a deep breath and then walked sedately up the aisle. The whole village packed the church to see ‘Miss Amy’ married. To them, Duncan Macdonald had never existed.
James, dressed in a cream satin coat, cream silk breeches and gold-and-silver embroidered waist coat, turned and watched her come towards him and his heart seemed to jump into his throat. She was so lovely, but her loveliness was not only on the outside; the inner core of her was serenely beautiful.
He smiled at Amy and held out his hand to her. She grasped it and stepped up beside him. ‘All’s well?’ he whispered.
‘All’s well,’ she responded with shining eyes.
Epilogue
March 1754
James, pacing the hall at Blackfen Manor, heard the baby’s first cry, and bounded up the stairs to Amy’s bedchamber. He did not bother to knock, but burst in to cross the room and fall on his knees beside her bed. She was drenched in sweat, her lovely hair was slick with it, but her eyes were bright and she was smiling. ‘Are you all right, my darling?’ he asked, ignoring the disapproving noises of the woman who had come in to help with the confinement. She was new to the village or she might have known Captain Drymore would never stand on ceremony, especially where his beloved wife was concerned.
‘Yes, I feel wonderful,’ Amy assured him. ‘Are you not going to look at our son?’
‘A son?’ With a de lighted smile, he turned and took the infant from the nurse. He was swaddled tightly, but his tiny fingers peeped over the edge of the cloth. He had huge blue eyes which seemed to be studying his father’s face, as if to say, ‘Who are you?’
‘You have given me a so
n,’ James said in wonder. ‘Oh, my darling, I am so proud of you.’
‘I did not do it alone,’ she said, laughing. ‘You played your part.’
The nurse fairly snorted at this and went to take the child from him. He refused to relinquish him. Instead he sat on the edge of the bed and began unwinding the infant bindings. ‘I want to see him,’ he said. ‘All of him.’
Freed from the tight wrap pings, the child lay on his back across James’s knees and kicked his little legs. He did not cry. ‘John,’ he said, giving him the name they had decided on, should they have a son. He ran his hands gently all over the tiny body, deep pink with the exertion of making his way into the world.
‘John James,’ Amy said, reaching out and touching the child’s hand. Immediately he gripped her finger. ‘He is going to be strong, like his father.’
‘Mrs Drymore must rest,’ the nurse said, exerting her authority. ‘And the boy must be fed. Where is the wet nurse?’
‘There is no wet nurse,’ Amy said. ‘I shall feed him myself.’
‘Really?’ she asked in astonishment. ‘It is most unusual for ladies…’
‘Nevertheless, that is what I intend. I fed Amelia without any trouble and she is strong and healthy.’ Amy turned to James. ‘Where is Amelia? She will want to see her little brother.’
James left her to fetch their two-year-old daughter. He was bursting with love and pride. He was a father twice over and he adored his wife and his children. Was ever a man so blessed?
He soon returned carrying Amelia Harriet. With her blue eyes and fair hair she was the image of her mother. When he put her down, she climbed on the bed beside Amy and stared down at her brother, who had been wrapped up again, but this time more loosely. ‘He’s very little,’ she said.
‘He will grow, but until he does, you must be very gentle with him,’ Amy told her. ‘His name is John, after your grandfather. Would you like to touch him?’