The Crimson Cavaliers

by Mary Andrea Clarke

“It’s not as if you ever use them,” persisted Emily.

  “Well, let’s hope I never need to. Do be sensible, Emily. How can I hold up a carriage without a pistol? People can be a little… reluctant when it comes to handing over their valuables. I need some means of persuading them.” Her tone took on a conciliatory note. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable knowing I had the means to defend myself if someone were to fire at me?”

  “Surely you don’t need two?”

  Georgiana shook her head. “One could fail just as I need it. I can’t take that risk.”

  Emily looked at her mistress without speaking, her expression still doubtful. Before she could respond, a knock on the bedroom door startled both women. Pushing the weapons under her pillow, Georgiana blew out the candle and moved into the shadows in the far corner of the room. Emily waited until she was safely out of view before opening the door.

  “James! What is it?”

  The footman raised his candle slightly, peering into the darkness.

  “Sir Robert Foster is at the door. He wants to see Miss Georgiana.”

  Georgiana froze, wondering if she was dreaming. Neither she nor Emily had heard the front door. Emily turned to look at her; Georgiana moistened her lips and nodded.

  “At this hour? What does he want?” demanded Emily.

  James shrugged. “You don’t imagine he would tell me, do you? Shall I say Miss Georgiana’s not available?”

  “No, James – I’ll come.” Georgiana spoke up from the corner. “Give him some refreshment. I’ll be down directly.”

  “Yes, miss.”

  Emily closed the door. Her eyes met Georgiana’s. “You can’t go down there, miss!”

  “It will look decidedly odd if I don’t.” Georgiana strode towards her wardrobe and whisked through the contents, selecting a simple muslin dress.

  “Nowhere near as odd as being accused of holding up Sir Robert’s coach.”

  “What choice do I have? Hide up here in the hope he will go away? I might as well face him. We can’t assume he’s come to make an accusation. They may have thrown a wheel, or the coachman may have been over-indulging. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  Georgiana did not answer. She stood before her dressing table, watched the reflection of Emily swiftly fastening the buttons of her dress.

  “You’re sure you weren’t followed?” said Emily.

  “Of course I wasn’t!” responded Georgiana indignantly. She retrieved the pistols from under her pillow and locked them in her nightstand, then handed the key to Emily. “Put this away, would you?”

  Pausing on the landing, Georgiana took a deep breath before descending to a hall remarkably full of people. Sir Robert Foster seemed to have taken over her house, barking instructions to anyone who would listen. His two companions stood next to him, apprehension in the eyes of the younger, for which the high-handed and scornful demeanour of her mother amply compensated. A slim, middle-aged woman in a dressing gown of subdued colouring was offering helpful suggestions, largely ignored, her personality as mousy as her light brown hair and pleasantly nondescript features.

  The reluctant hostess came forward. “Good evening.”

  “Oh, Georgiana, I’m so sorry you were disturbed,” said the mousy woman. “I would not have had you woken for the world, but James thought you would wish it.”

  “Don’t worry, Selina,” said Georgiana, laying a hand on the other’s arm. “James was quite right.” She turned her attention to Sir Robert, forcing herself not to look unwelcoming.

  “Ah, Miss Grey,” said Sir Robert. “I trust you’ll forgive us barging in like this…”

  “It is a rather odd hour for a social call,” Georgiana remarked dryly.

  “Yes, yes,” said Sir Robert gruffly. “But your house was the most conveniently located.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Sir Robert and his party have run into some difficulty,” offered Selina. “In fact, they have had quite a dreadful experience.”

  “Do you know Lady Winters and her daughter, Miss Louisa Winters?” Sir Robert’s voice cut into the explanation. His hungry eyes ran up and down the girl’s form.

  Lady Winters gave a stately inclination of her head, fiercely poking her daughter in the side. The young lady curtsied, mumbling, “How do you do?” at the floor. She glanced up fleetingly, and, encouraged by their hostess’s friendly manner, gave a shy smile which Georgiana returned warmly.

  “I see you’ve met my cousin, Miss Knatchbull.”

  “Oh, yes, indeed,” responded the mousy woman. “So pleased, though the circumstances are rather unusual.”

  Georgiana turned back to her main quarry. “Sir Robert, I would be very grateful if you would tell me…”

  “I should be glad of a cup of tea, Miss Grey,” interrupted Lady Winters, sailing towards the drawing room. “My nerves are quite shattered.”

  “An excellent notion, Lady Winters,” said Sir Robert, following in her wake. “Though I should prefer something stronger.”

  “I daresay,” remarked Georgiana. “I have asked my footman to arrange for some refreshments. However, this is not a posting-inn. Neither am I accustomed to entertaining visitors at two o’clock in the morning, even those who arrive at my invitation.”

  Lady Winters and Sir Robert stared in dumbfounded astonishment. And Miss Winters’s bottom jaw dropped in an unladylike manner. Miss Knatchbull looked suitably shocked.

  “Georgiana! I assure your ladyship, my cousin did not intend to sound uncivil.”

  “Please don’t apologise for me, Selina.” Georgiana turned her attention back to the visitors. “Perhaps you would be good enough to tell me why you have disturbed my household at this hour?”

  In the stretched-out moment of silence which followed, Georgiana toyed with the possibility of asking her uninvited guests to leave. She rejected the idea as quickly as it was conceived, lest she arouse the suspicion she was anxious to avoid. Instead, she looked towards Sir Robert expectantly, one eyebrow slightly raised. James, approaching at that moment with a tray bearing a teapot and decanter, broke the tension.

  “My cousin mentioned you had encountered some difficulty?” Georgiana prompted.

  “I should rather say we have, Miss Grey,” responded Sir Robert. “We were held up by a highwayman.”

  Georgiana’s eyes widened. She managed to convey just the right amount of shocked surprise into her voice when she responded.

  “A highwayman? How dreadful!”

  Miss Knatchbull shuddered. “Isn’t it horrid? I remember how terrified I was when it happened to us.”

  “It’s disgraceful,” said Sir Robert. “Thieves and cut-throats taking over the public roads. Why, if it hadn’t been for the ladies, I’d have taught the scoundrel a lesson.”

  Georgiana suppressed a smile. “I’m sure you would, Sir Robert.”

  “Wait until he comes before me on the bench. Hanging’s too good for the blackguard.”

  Georgiana couldn’t resist. “Don’t you have to catch him first?”

  It was perhaps as well this remark went unnoticed. Revelling in the fermenting cauldron of his fury, Sir Robert took little heed of anyone else. His next words gave Georgiana a jolt.

  “I’m afraid we shall need to trouble you for a horse, Miss Grey. One of ours has gone lame.”

  Georgiana felt the colour drain from her face. “I’m sorry to hear that, Sir Robert,” she replied, wondering how she kept her voice steady. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I have anything suitable.”

  “Now, you needn’t worry,” said Sir Robert, in a tone not unlike an indulgent uncle. “My man will take care of that.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Georgiana, praying the dread pressing down in her stomach had not transmitted itself to her face.

  “I sent my groom to your stables to have the lame creature tethered and find something to pull our carriage the rest of the way.” He held up a hand. �
��Pray don’t concern yourself. I’m sure he’ll find one of your people to help him. Your modesty does you credit, but I will say this: considering you don’t have a husband to advise you, you’ve been very fortunate with your choices of horseflesh, very fortunate indeed. You have some remarkably fine beasts. I’m sure that fellow of mine won’t have any trouble finding something suitable.”

  Had Georgiana been of a swooning disposition, there could not have been a more opportune moment to indulge it. She could only grit her teeth and smile, accepting the role of sympathetic hostess which had been thrust upon her. Torn between anger at Sir Robert’s high-handed action and fear Princess would be recognised, she listened with polite inattention to her visitors’ woes, grateful for her cousin’s fluttering concern as her own mind darted from one impossible scheme to another for ensuring neither groom would open Princess’s stall.

  “That scoundrel had better hope he doesn’t meet me again.” Sir Robert’s booming voice broke in upon Georgiana’s thoughts. “I shall know how to deal with him. I’d have done it tonight, only for the ladies.” He twisted awkwardly, pulling the folds of clothing at his waist as he hitched his corset into position.

  “Oh, indeed, it’s a very good thing you did not!” cried Selina. “Why, just think how much more it would have upset her ladyship and Miss Winters.”

  “Yes,” said Georgiana absently. She was finding Sir Robert’s verbosity irritating. How satisfying it would be to let him know what a wealth of evidence she had of his cowardice – but of course that would place a rope around her own neck. She had no alternative but to hold her peace and concentrate on solving the immediate problem.

  “Yes, they were already very upset,” said Sir Robert, lowering his voice and allowing a solicitous note in. “Quite a fright for them, and all their jewels gone. The rogue took a particularly valuable ring.”

  A chill took possession of Georgiana’s brain. Surely she couldn’t have … ? Her horrified gaze travelled towards her left hand. The mocking sheen of the ring glinted under the edge of the cup and saucer she held, waiting to betray her. She closed her eyes, mentally cursing herself for such an elementary piece of incaution. Her guests’ attention was too focused on their own discourse to pay her much heed for the moment; she seized her opportunity.

  In a rapid movement of controlled clumsiness, a twist of her wrist upturned the cup over her left hand. As her guests turned at her cry, she snatched up a napkin from the tray and bound it around both ring and scalded hand.

  “My dear Miss Grey, are you injured?” Sir Robert peered at the tea tray where Georgiana’s cup had been deposited with little ceremony.

  Miss Knatchbull was immediately out of her seat, anxious to assist. She fussed over Georgiana, eager to examine the injury.

  “Please don’t worry, Selina,” said Georgiana. “Clumsy of me. I would be grateful if you’d ring for James. I’m afraid I shall have to leave you for a few minutes while this is bandaged.”

  “You must allow me to help you,” insisted Miss Knatchbull.

  “No, I shall manage well enough. Please stay and attend to our guests.”

  James appeared, and looked in some puzzlement at the disarray. He accepted without question his mistress’s request to clear up the mess and bring some fresh tea. His sister, on the other hand, gave a gasp of alarm when Georgiana appeared in her bedroom and unwound the napkin from furiously red skin.

  “It’s nothing, Emily. Don’t worry.”

  “Nothing! That’s a very nasty burn, miss. What on earth happ…?” As she caught sight of the ring, Emily’s eyes widened. Georgiana nodded.

  “I overturned my tea cup. It seemed best.”

  Emily looked doubtful. “Your hand looks horribly swollen. You won’t get that off for a while.”

  “I’ll manage.” Georgiana lifted the jug on her dressing table and poured some cold water into a basin. “Never mind this, I can attend to it. There’s something else I need you to do. Sir Robert’s groom has gone to the stables to find a horse.”

  Emily sank down on the edge of the bed. “We’re done for.”

  “Not necessarily, though it’s likely he’ll have roused Richardson or a stable-boy. Get down there and distract them. It doesn’t matter how. Just keep them away from Princess.”

  “Won’t it be too late?”

  Georgiana shook her head. “I don’t think so. They’ll settle Sir Robert’s lame horse before looking for a fresh one. And Richardson will hardly offer my own mount to pull a carriage.”

  Emily grabbed a cloak, closing the door quietly for all her speed. Georgiana winced as she laid her hand gingerly in the basin of cold water. The scald had served the purpose, but had been more dramatic than she intended. She managed to stretch her fingers as the water cooled the sting. With careful manipulation, Georgiana gradually removed the ring although the action relit the fire in her hand. She held it under water for a few more minutes, tenderly patting it dry with the towel which Emily had thoughtfully left within reach. The task of dressing her injury with one hand proved more difficult than anticipated, and it took some moments to achieve a satisfactory result. Georgiana returned to the drawing room with a bandaged hand and a stream of apologies.

  Her guests showed little more than a perfunctory interest in her reappearance. Lady Winters was drinking tea and Sir Robert had made himself comfortable with a generous quantity of wine. Only Miss Knatchbull and the young Miss Winters demonstrated any degree of concern.

  James, discreetly waiting in the background, stepped forward and asked if he could pour Miss Grey some fresh tea.

  “Yes, please, James. Thank you for tidying up.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought it necessary to thank a servant, my dear,” said Sir Robert, as the footman quietly left the room. “He’s doing no more than his duty, after all.”

  As a single woman with her own establishment, Georgiana attracted more than her share of unsolicited advice on how to run her home. “I appreciate your interest, Sir Robert, but I am very well able to manage my household.”

  Sir Robert frowned. “You know, Miss Grey, that fellow of yours looks familiar. I have an idea I’ve seen him somewhere before.”

  Georgiana took a deep breath to quell the rising anger, and spoke with deliberation. “You have, Sir Robert. He appeared before you two years ago. You sentenced him to a year in prison.”

  The hair on the back of Georgiana’s neck bristled as indignation edged through her. She had always felt the injustice of James’s conviction. The anger triggered by the travesty of the court had never quite left her, lingering like the cough which James had acquired during his term of imprisonment.

  Lady Winters closed her eyes and shivered. “You have employed a cut-throat, Miss Grey? Well! There’s certainly no question of us spending the night here. We should undoubtedly be murdered in our sleep.”

  Georgiana held her breath. “Quite right, Lady Winters, there is no question of you staying overnight,” she said stiffly. “Nor is there is any question of James being a cut-throat. He was charged with poaching: the extravagant haul of two trout, as a matter of fact. No doubt you remember, Sir Robert.” She smiled sweetly. “He wasn’t the guilty party; the culprit threw the wretched fish at him and made his escape, leaving James to face the gamekeeper.”

  Sir Robert’s eyes appeared even more pellet-like. “I do recall something of the incident. You approached me to appeal for the fellow.”

  “I’m pleased you remember, Sir Robert. I recall you saying justice must take its course, but you did agree to be lenient.”

  “Of course, my dear, of course. Things could have been worse, you know, whether your man was guilty or not. If I’d sent him to the Assizes, he might have lost his life. Unfortunate if there was a mistake. Still, someone has to take responsibility – examples must be made.” He adopted a confidential tone. “Besides, Miss Grey, these fellows are usually guilty of something.”

  Georgiana drew in her breath. She had always considered Sir Robert pompous,
but this casual dismissal of James’s unjust imprisonment showed a callous self-righteousness she would not have expected even of him. It reminded her exactly why she had taken to the road when she saw the kind of justice dispensed in court. She had wanted to teach the powerful a lesson, and had been surprised to discover a talent which had hitherto lain dormant. It had come as a shock to find her illegal activities brought a new excitement to her life which she did not want to relinquish.

  Georgiana caught a look of imploring alarm in Miss Knatchbull’s eyes. Poor Selina; Georgiana knew she was a trial to her. She often wondered if her cousin would have accepted the role of duenna had she known she would be dealing with a confident young woman used to having her own way. Georgiana held her peace, and gave Selina a reassuring smile

  “Of course, when I catch up with that highwayman, I’ll make an example of him to drive them all off the roads,” Sir Robert informed the company.

  “It wasn’t just the robbery,” said Lady Winters. “His behaviour towards Louisa was atrocious. I’ve never seen such disgraceful flirting. I quite feared for her virtue.”

  Georgiana choked on her tea.

  “I thought he was rather dashing,” said Louisa in a dreamy tone.

  “Dashing or not,” said Sir Robert, unwittingly saving Louisa from a further slap from her mother, “he must be brought to justice. I’m sure it was that Crimson Cavalier fellow. I’ll raise the reward on him. Twenty-five pounds ought to do it.”

  In light of the retribution Sir Robert threatened, Georgiana found this figure insulting. However, she was spared the need to comment by the arrival of her maid. Emily’s demure tone seemed to belong to someone quite other than the forthright girl who had been in attendance upstairs.

  “Beg pardon, miss, Sir Robert’s carriage is ready.”

  No one questioned why this message had come from Georgiana’s personal maid. The company rose to depart, Sir Robert’s waddle more pronounced than when they arrived. He tugged at his corset and turned towards Georgiana. “Thank you so much, Miss Grey,” he said, his voice thick with wine.

  “Good evening to you, Miss Grey, Miss Knatchbull.” Lady Winters breezed past Georgiana, a silent Louisa following behind.