“I do feel odd,” she whispered. “It’s the heat. May I go to my room?”
Mistress Hurst fussed solicitously over her, and helped her upstairs and to bed. Then, when Sibylla’s protests that she would be better soon seemed sincere, and conscious of her duty to her guests, her mother left her, promising someone would come to see how she did shortly.
Relieved to be on her own, Sibylla forced herself to think calmly. It must be a rumor, she insisted to herself, a rumor without foundation. Gerard did not know Randolph well, he did not see much of him, so how could he know such a thing? Besides, Randolph had so often protested how greatly he loved her, he could not be deceiving her.
Gradually she brought herself to believe that what Gerard had heard was mistaken, and she breathed more easily. When her mother came up to her, she was able to convince the anxious Mistress Hurst that she was perfectly well now, but tired and wishing only to sleep.
* * * *
Still she had little sleep that night and appeared next morning pale and listless. She tried to smile reassuringly at her family’s anxious enquiries, and was thankful when she could slip out of the house unnoticed and make her way to the appointed place for her next meeting with Randolph.
She was early and waited impatiently. She employed the time in rehearsing what she had to say to him. She told herself repeatedly she did not believe Gerard had the truth of it, but a nagging suspicion made her long to hear from Randolph himself there was no truth in the rumor.
Eventually he came, and she immediately told him what her brother had said. Randolph stared at her incredulously.
“You did not believe it?” he asked. “You do not believe I am deceiving you?”
“No, of course not! How do such rumors start? It’s true you have expensive clothes and good jewels. Yet you say you are poor.”
He laughed and took her face in his hands, bringing his face close and looking deep into her eyes.
“My dear little Sibylla! I am indeed poor, in the sense that I have an encumbered estate and very little income; but I have good fortune sometimes! I am a good judge of horseflesh and have won considerable sums gambling. Unfortunately,” he continued ruefully, “I also have lost sometimes. That accounts for my apparent affluence, not some pockmarked heiress! You cannot believe I would love anyone else but you?”
“No,” she said quickly, “but you have known me but a few short weeks.”
“All your life,” he said, laughing and kissing the tip of her nose.
“The last few weeks have been different. I could not help wondering if, perhaps, before you met me, there was someone else, and this could account for the rumor?”
“There is no one else,” he assured her. “Not now, and though I have not lived as a monk, I have never been betrothed to anyone, heiress or not, and never in the remotest danger of it until I met my adorable little Sibylla.”
She was convinced, and after an interlude of kissing, he began to talk of Gerard, asking what his plans were.
“He goes to Plymouth with his friends. They join another ship repairing there, I understand,” she answered, slightly bored, and anxious to hear again how deeply he loved her. “Why do you ask? I did not know you were interested.”
“I have been thinking,” he answered slowly. “I have not been over-energetic in seeking a post, preferring to live on what I have and what I can win by play, or racing. This is, however, insufficient to support a wife, and now, when I have you Sibylla dearest, I must make shift to obtain regular income.
“Methought I might apply to the navy office. My family, like yours, has a seafaring background but I have never known much about the navy. I had hoped Gerard would help me, but he seems to have taken an aversion towards me and would not give me the information I seek.”
“What use would it be to you to talk with him?”
“I could mayhap impress the powers that hold patronage, and so persuade them to give me a post. Sibylla, if only I could! Then I could approach your parents, and they might agree to our marriage.”
“Oh, Randolph, pray that you can.”
“You must help me.”
“I? How can I do that? Do you wish me to question Gerard on navy matters?”
“No, that would not answer. You would not know what to ask, and I could not instruct you in sufficient detail. Besides, he would think your sudden interest strange. Let me think.”
There was a silence while Sibylla looked hopefully at him. Then he turned excitedly to her.
“I have it! Did not Gerard say more friends are expected? When do they come?”
“One more. He is staying but the one night and rides to London the following day. He is coming from Plymouth.”
“When does he come?”
“Tomorrow. Why?”
“Sibylla, I hate doing this, but it is the only chance that offers. They are bound to talk of navy affairs. What time is this man expected?”
“Not until late. He is to come for supper.” She was puzzled. “Do you expect me to procure an invitation for you to supper? I could not do that. They would think it strange.”
“No, my love, I realize that. Besides, they would not be likely to talk of important things during the meal, with the family and servants around. But afterwards? Will they not stay and talk over their wine?”
“I suppose they might. My mother will excuse them, as she knows how infrequently Gerard meets this man. But why?”
Gently he explained, and asked her to conceal him in the dining parlor so that he could overhear the conversation. At first she was horrified at the thought, but he eventually persuaded her, pointing out it could be the means of bringing their marriage closer.
“Very well,” she at last reluctantly agreed. “I cannot like it, though.”
“I understand, and I do not like it myself, but it is the only way I can see to advance myself. It is little enough when one thinks of many of the stratagems men devise and only necessary because Gerard does not like me overmuch and is taken up with his friends. If he were here alone I have no doubt he would be willing to talk with me. After all, we were good friends once. Think what it may mean to us, my sweet.”
“I do,” she said quietly.
“It’s not as though I intend any harm, or wish to listen to secrets,” he went on. “I feel it is but a convenient way of learning something about the navy before I try my fortune in seeking a post.”
Sibylla smiled at him. “We sup at seven, so you had best be concealed before that. There is a cupboard at the side of the fireplace that is scarcely used now. I can clear it to make a space for you. If you come to the house at six o’clock, and hide in the spinney at the edge of the paddock, I will come to guide you in when the servants are busy elsewhere.”
Boisterously, he swung her off her feet as he hugged her.
“My dearest little conspirator! You make an excellent accomplice!”
She smiled a little doubtfully wrinkling her brow. He laughed and smoothed it gently with his fingers. “Come, do not be fearful.”
“I am not,” she protested. “I do not like the necessity that is all.”
“You trust me? You believe I am doing this for our benefit? Sibylla, you must trust me! I could not bear it if I thought I had lost any of your love and trust through this scheme of mine?”
“Of course I trust you, Randolph! Why should I not?”
“Why not, indeed?” he kissed her until she was breathless then said she had better return to the house now. “Meet me here in the morning, to tell me all is well.”
Sibylla agreed, and they parted, but on the way home she was less content than usual, convinced she was helping her beloved Randolph, but disturbed at the means she had had to adopt in order to do so.
Chapter Two
Randolph’s plan for overhearing the conv
ersation of Gerard and his friends worked most successfully. Sibylla was able to discover from Gerard that his friend, John Deverall, was expected at about six o’clock. She imparted this information to Randolph in the morning, and they confirmed the plan for the evening. Returning home, Sibylla busied herself with clearing enough space in the dining parlor cupboard to accommodate Randolph. She wandered restlessly around the house all afternoon, and as it drew near to six o’clock became more and more nervous.
The servants had finished in the dining parlor, and were busy in the kitchen. Sibylla was about to leave the house to fetch Randolph when the sounds of an arrival halted her. She made her way cautiously back to the hall and saw Gerard greeting a young man. It was the expected guest. When Gerard escorted his visitor upstairs, Sibylla breathed a sigh of relief for he would now be occupied while she smuggled Randolph into the house. She ran out to the paddock and spent a few moments patting her mare which had approached her as she crossed the field. Then she went to the spinney, and called softly to Randolph who appeared instantly.
“Why are you late?” he asked. “I had begun to think you were not coming.”
“Of course I was coming,” she answered indignantly. “I had to be certain no one was in the way.”
He smiled down at her, and she smiled back, soothed as ever by his manner, caressing and tender, as he reassured her he must have mistaken the time.
“It seemed hours I was waiting there,” he explained. “Do forgive me, my dear.”
“I will go first,” she said, anxious to get the next part of the business over. “I will wave to you when the way is clear.”
He nodded and she set off, taking advantage of the trees that grew quite close to the house. Randolf followed cautiously. They were fortunate and no one saw them. Sibylla led the way to a little-used side door, and after peering within, signaled to Randolph. He crossed the open ground hastily, and slipped inside the door.
“The door to the dining parlor is just around the corner,” she whispered. “This passage leads directly to the hall.”
She went ahead, but there was no one about. The servants were all occupied in the kitchen, and the family were upstairs. Randolph was able to slip unseen into the room, and after a quick look round, concealed himself in the cupboard. He noted approvingly that a large keyhole would allow him to both hear and see into the room, and he smiled gratefully at Sibylla.
“I must hasten,” she whispered. “Will you be comfortable?”
“Aye, thanks to these cushions you have provided,” he replied. With an anxious look round, Sybilla made her way to her room, where she changed her gown and brushed her curls.
The conversation at supper was made lively by the presence of the four young men, though Sibylla, always conscious of Randolph’s presence, and concentrating on resisting the overwhelming desire to keep glancing towards the cupboard, was unusually quiet. Mistress Hurst watched her anxiously, and noticing this, Sibylla did her utmost to appear cheerful and join in the conversation.
After the meal, Mr. Hurst wished his latest guest a pleasant night and a good journey on the following day.
“You will wish to stay up late talking with Gerard, and he has informed me you must start very early in the morning, so I will bid you farewell now.”
“I thank you for your hospitality,” Mr. Deverall replied, and then turned to Mistress Hurst and complimented her on the food. Expressing a wish that he should call again, she also bade him farewell. The girls and their parents left the room to the young men who drew their chairs close together and refilled their wineglasses.
Once they had settled in the oak parlor at the front of the house, Mistress Hurst spoke to Sibylla anxiously.
“Are you feeling unwell, my dear? You were very quiet.”
Sibylla tried to smile at her mother. “I am quite well, I thank you,” she said. “A trifle tired, I think.”
“Then you must not stay up long. Do you feel well enough for some music?”
Sibylla agreed thankfully, for she was fond of music and to sit strumming her lute and singing would soothe her nerves, at the same time ensuring there was no conversation. She did not feel equal to making conversation, so intent was she on what was happening in the dining parlor, and anxious that Randolph should not be discovered.
After an hour or so of music, the family retired. Sibylla could not sleep, and sat tensely on her window seat listening to the sounds of the house. She heard the servants performing their last tasks before they retired, the odd creaks and groans normal in all houses but somehow more than usually obvious that night, and the occasional noise from the stables.
* * * *
It was hours later, long after midnight Sibylla judged, when she heard the quiet sounds of the young men coming up the stairs to bed, and the whispered farewells and goodnights as they parted and made their way to their own rooms. Giving them ten minutes to be well out of the way, Sibylla slipped out of her room, a cloak thrown over her nightgown, and crept to the top of the stairs. Randolph had assured her he could make his own way out of the house by the little door where he had entered, but she was apprehensive, and needed to assure herself he was undetected and safely away.
As she paused at the top of the stairs, she heard a faint sound as the latch of the dining parlor door was lifted. As she watched, in the faint gleam of moonlight coming from a window behind her she saw Randolph emerge, looking round cautiously.
Sibylla let her breath escape. He heard the slight sound, and looked up quickly. She picked up her skirts and ran quickly down the stairs, ignoring his shaking head and hand uplifted in warning.
“Thank goodness you are safe! I have been so worried! I could not sleep.”
He smiled a little. “I am safe, if plaguey stiff, my dear. You must not detain me, I am not clear yet.”
“No, forgive me. Come, I will fasten the door behind you.”
She turned to lead the way down the little passage, but at that precise moment, the door at the end of it banged and footsteps could be heard approaching along the passage. They both froze in horror, but even as Randolph was estimating the distance to the nearest door, Gerard came into the hall. He stopped in amazement as he saw them.
“Sibylla! Randolph! What goes on?”
Sibylla clutched Randolph’s arm, and stared in speechless dismay at her brother who surveyed her grimly, taking in the clothes she was wearing. Randolph glanced down at her and then grinned across at Gerard.
“Not what you are no doubt thinking, my friend,” he said softly.
“What do you here? I thought you had retired to bed?” Sibylla gasped.
“I have no doubt of that,” he replied. “It so happens one of the horses is sick and I went to pay a last visit to him. I am not the one who needs to explain my actions. What is that fellow doing here? And do you have to hang onto his arm in such an abandoned fashion? You seem to have forgotten all modesty, appearing so before him, or is the situation even worse than it appears?”
Sibylla blushed furiously as the implications of her position, and the meanings that would be read into it, sank in. She hastily dropped Randolph’s arm, and stepped away from him. He looked at her in some amusement.
“Do you mean to desert me in my need?” he enquired softly and she paused, uncertain. He turned quickly to Gerard, however. “I would ask you to believe there is nought improper in my being here like this,” he said, smiling engagingly.
“That remains to be seen,” Gerard snapped. “You have an unpleasant reputation with women, and I do not intend to allow my sister to become entangled in your intrigues.”
“My dear Gerard, do give me leave to offer the explanation of my presence here.”
“Then be quick about it, we have wasted enough time already.”
“I was returning late from friends and I happened to see Sibylla’s window lit up.
I had promised to escort her tomorrow to visit an old aunt of mine, but found I would have to put it off for a day. I took the opportunity to tell her, so that she would not ride out to meet me and be disappointed.”
“That message could have been conveyed through a window, there was no need to be admitted into the house.”
“I suppose not, but I feared as it was late, that we might waken someone. Also Sibylla came down to me to arrange another meeting for the expedition without rousing the whole house.”
“Does father know of this plan?” Gerard suddenly turned on Sibylla, and she miserably shook her head.
“Then you have been meeting this scoundrel, secretly I take it?”
She nodded.
“I thought you would have had more sense,” he said bitingly. “Now go to your room, and I will see this unprincipled rascal off the premises.”
Sibylla tried to protest, but Randolph cut into her arguments.
“Do as he says, my dear. This is not the time to talk, and in any event, it is not your brother who has the right to chide me. I will see your father.”
He turned, and closely followed by Gerard, made his way to the door. Gerard watched him, silent and contemptuous, as he slipped the bolts, and then, with a last smile at Sibylla, and an impudent grin at Gerard, passed through the doorway. As Gerard attended to the fastenings, Sibylla ran up the stairs, and thankfully gained her room before Gerard could come after her.
She was aghast at his discovery of her in so compromising a situation, and a little frightened at the way her parents would feel. She wished heartily Randolph had not been forced to invent an explanation of his presence, but the thought uppermost in her mind was the promise Randolph had made to speak to her father. At last, whatever his displeasure with her, she would be able to confess to her father her love for Randolph. She had been so indulged from birth she had little fear of not being able to persuade him to allow a match between them, however great his anger might be at their deceptions.
* * * *
She was, therefore, able to go to sleep in a fairly contented mood, and came down to breakfast with only a little apprehension the next day. Mr. Deverall had departed, and though Gerard greeted her coldly his other friends were present, and he could not refer to the events of the night in front of them.
Sibylla and the Privateer Page 2