by Dilly Court
Hugged in a suffocating embrace, Sarah could scarcely breathe. ‘What are you doing here, Nettie?’
‘I could say the same to you.’
‘It’s a long story, but why aren’t you in the theatre?’
‘The show closed. I’m what we professionals call resting.’
‘You mean you’re out of work.’
‘I’m looking for a better part. I ain’t going to be in the chorus all me life, girl. Anyway, I came here on the off-chance that Mrs Arbuthnot might know someone who needed help in the house and I’ve been here ever since.’ She held Sarah at arm’s length. ‘You look terrible. What’s been going on? Cook told me that you’d gone off on some wild goose chase with that bloke of yours. Wanted by the police, so Dorcas says.’
Sarah took off her bonnet and cape. ‘I’ll tell you everything but first I ought to see Mrs Arbuthnot and ask her if I can stay here for a few days.’
‘She’s in the parlour with Mr Moorcroft.’ Nettie nudged Sarah in the ribs and winked. ‘I think there’s romance in the air.’
‘Really?’ Sarah could hardly believe such a thing. ‘They’re a bit old for romance.’
‘Don’t let Mr M hear you talking like that. He’s been ever so kind to me. He’s the one who persuaded the missis to let me stay and he’s promised to introduce me to a chap who’s casting a new musical comedy. I could be a leading lady before you know it.’ Nettie skipped along the narrow hallway and burst into the parlour without knocking. ‘Look who’s turned up on the doorstep.’
Mrs Arbuthnot was seated in a chair by the fire but she rose to her feet when she saw Sarah, and held out her arms. ‘My dear girl, how glad I am to see you. Martin told me where you’d gone and why, but that didn’t stop me worrying about you.’
Mr Moorcroft had been sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the fireplace and he raised himself, giving her a searching look. ‘How are things, Sarah? Is all well?’
Overwhelmed by her welcome and overcome with exhaustion after her long journey, Sarah could not speak. She hugged Mrs Arbuthnot, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender, tuberose and patchouli that reminded her of their first meeting when she was a frightened child fresh from the horrors of the workhouse. ‘I need help,’ she murmured.
‘Oh dear.’ Mrs Arbuthnot sank down on her chair, fanning herself with her hand. ‘What’s happened, Sarah? It’s not that dreadful man you were trying to save, is it?’
‘What’s up?’ Nettie asked anxiously. ‘Has he been ill-treating you, nipper?’
Sarah shook her head. ‘No, of course not. It’s nothing like that.’
Moorcroft cleared his throat. ‘Nettie, my dear, would you be so kind as to fetch a glass of port wine for Sarah, and something to eat. She looks as though she needs sustenance.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Nettie backed towards the doorway. ‘But what’s going on, Sarah?’
‘Wine, please.’ Moorcroft sent her a warning look and Nettie scuttled from the room. He turned to Sarah, smiling. ‘That girl is a law unto herself, and she needs a firm hand, but she’s a breath of fresh air.’
‘Never mind her, Martin,’ Mrs Arbuthnot said firmly. ‘I want to hear what Sarah has to say and what led her to brave a long journey in this awful weather.’
‘Grey killed a man.’ There was no way to dress up the facts and Sarah was too tired to dissemble. ‘It wasn’t his fault,’ she added hastily, seeing the shocked look on their faces. ‘Trigg attacked him and he fell on the knife, but he died all the same.’
Mrs Arbuthnot clapped her hands. ‘Serves him right. That man ruined us and he was responsible for what happened to my poor James. I’m glad he’s dead.’
Moorcroft frowned. ‘Even so, it doesn’t look good for Tobias. Where is he now, Sarah?’
‘That’s just it. He’s in France.’ Sarah paused as Nettie rushed into the room carrying a tray which she deposited on a sofa table.
‘Stop,’ she cried dramatically. ‘Don’t utter another word, Sarah. I want to hear it all from the beginning.’
In between sips of the wine, which warmed her stomach and made her feel pleasantly relaxed, Sarah told them everything down to the last detail.
‘Smugglers.’ Nettie’s eyes shone with excitement. ‘How wonderful. Were they big and bold and handsome?’
Sarah smiled. ‘No, actually both of them were quite short and not particularly good-looking. And if we’re talking about Moses, he’s ancient and he has one blue eye and one brown eye. It’s not romantic or exciting, Nettie. In fact it’s all quite sordid and frightening, especially knowing that I’ve left the children in a den of thieves with only Parker to look after them.’
‘The poor dears,’ Mrs Arbuthnot cried, covering her face with her hands. ‘Poor motherless little things.’
‘You mustn’t upset yourself, Sophia,’ Moorcroft said calmly. ‘I’m sure that young Mary is a very capable child. Isn’t that so, Sarah?’
‘Yes, indeed.’ Sarah swallowed a mouthful of cake. ‘She’s a good girl, but I do worry about them. That’s why I must get to France as soon as possible so that I can bring Davey back to look after them, and that’s where I was hoping you’d be able to help me, Mr Moorcroft.’
‘Yes, Martin, you must do something.’ Mrs Arbuthnot sent him a pleading look. ‘You will help, won’t you?’
He was silent for a moment, regarding Sarah intently. ‘You said that a certain person’s remains have yet to be interred.’
‘Yes, and that worries me too.’
‘We could sell the body to a hospital,’ Nettie suggested. ‘No questions asked.’
‘I think it’s too late for that.’ Moorcroft stood up and began pacing the floor, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. ‘In my professional capacity I would have to report this matter to the police, but in the present circumstances I will act merely as a concerned friend.’
‘I should hope so, Martin.’ Mrs Arbuthnot nodded with approval. ‘Tobias has suffered enough at the hands of that villain Trigg. It may not be justice as far as the law is concerned, but as Mr Dickens put it, “the law is a ass – a idiot”. I do so love the story of Oliver Twist.’
Moorcroft smiled indulgently. ‘I’m sure that many would agree, Sophia, but this is real life and I must think of a way round this particular problem.’
‘And I desperately need to get to France, sir.’ Sarah gulped the last of the wine. ‘I want to get Davey home as soon as possible and I must make certain that Grey is all right.’
‘I can fund your journey,’ Moorcroft said slowly. ‘But you will travel by the normal route. That means taking the train to Dover and the packet to Calais. I’ll make the necessary bookings first thing in the morning.’
‘And I’m coming with you.’ Nettie fluttered her eyelashes at Moorcroft. ‘Please say that I can, sir.’
‘Yes, Martin.’ Mrs Arbuthnot reached out to touch his hand. ‘I think that’s an excellent idea. I wouldn’t like to think of Sarah travelling to the Continent on her own.’
‘Of course Nettie must accompany her.’ He raised her hand to his lips in a gallant gesture. ‘I must leave now, Sophia. But I’ll return tomorrow with the necessary travel documents.’
She stood up, still clutching his hand. ‘Won’t you stay for dinner, Martin?’
‘Not tonight, my dear. I still have some work to do at the office.’ He turned to Sarah. ‘You must get some rest before you set off on your travels, and don’t worry. I’ll arrange everything.’
Nettie waited until they had left the room and as soon as the door closed she threw herself down on a chair beside Sarah. ‘D’you see what I mean? They’re so sweet together.’
A wave of tiredness washed over Sarah and she found she could hardly keep her eyes open. ‘I’m glad for both of them,’ she murmured. ‘Mrs Arbuthnot is such a lovely lady and Mr Moorcroft is a real gentleman.’
‘He’s been kindness itself to me. He says I remind him of someone he once knew, but I can’t imagine that he’d have known an
yone who’d allow their baby to end up in the workhouse. Anyway, you and me are going on a big adventure. I never been further than Limehouse so you got a head start on me.’ She jumped to her feet. ‘Let’s go to the kitchen. Cook and Dorcas are itching to find out what’s been going on and Betty wants to see you too.’ She grabbed Sarah by the hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘Come on. Don’t fall asleep.’ She looked her up and down with a critical eye. ‘Where on earth did you get that frock? That style went out twenty years ago. Never mind, I’m sure I’ve got something that will fit you.’
The packet boat pitched and tossed mid-Channel and Sarah hung over the side, wanting to die. Nettie tried to persuade her to go below, but Sarah could not move. In the end Nettie produced a boat cloak that she had somehow managed to procure, although she refused to say how, and wrapped it round Sarah, assuring her that her torment would be over soon and that once ashore she would feel fine again.
It was dark when they docked in Calais but Sarah had no idea of the time. She had slept for the last four hours of the crossing, and although she was reluctant to admit that Nettie had been right, she started to feel better the moment she stepped onto dry land. It was then she discovered that, during the voyage while she had been indisposed, Nettie had found someone who could speak English who was willing to interpret for them when they landed in France. It was no surprise to Sarah that this person was young, male and good-looking, and it was his cloak that had kept the chill from Sarah while she was unwell. The Frenchman was charming and Nettie flirted outrageously with him over supper at the inn, which he not only recommended but coincidentally was where he was also putting up for the night. Next morning he was waiting to escort them to their destination, the village a few miles to the west of the town as named by one of the men who had pulled Davey and Grey from the sea.
‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ Sarah said in a whisper as Nettie sent her latest conquest to see if the vehicle he had hired on their behalf had arrived.
‘Can you speak the lingo?’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Then how are we to find your blokes if we can’t communicate with the natives?’
‘But what if he gets the wrong idea, Nettie? He might think you’re easy. You’ve been playing up to him ever since we arrived.’
‘Gaston’s all right. Anyway, it’s just a bit of fun. Don’t be so prissy.’
Sarah bit her lip. The most important thing was to find Grey and Davey, but a small warning voice in her head was making her feel uncomfortable in handsome Gaston’s presence. Nettie might think that he had fallen for her charms in a gentlemanly way, but Sarah was not so sure. ‘What’s his business, Nettie? Why is he going out of his way for us?’
Nettie’s lips formed a moue. ‘Why wouldn’t he do something to help a damsel in distress?’
‘Because you aren’t a damsel in distress, and you seem to think that you’re the heroine of one of your stage plays. Why was he on the packet from England to France in the first place? If he’s a businessman I would have thought he’d be too busy to bother with us.’
Nettie elbowed her in the ribs. ‘Shh. He’s coming. Stop acting like a governess and enjoy the thrill of doing something new and exciting.’ She waltzed off to join Gaston with her coppery curls bobbing and her gold earrings catching the light as the sun’s rays flooded through the open door. ‘Hurry up, Sarah,’ she called over her shoulder as she linked her hand in the crook of Gaston’s arm. ‘The carriage is waiting and we’re paying by the hour. Do you want to find your friends, or not?’
Chapter Twenty-One
NETTIE AND GASTON kept up a lively exchange during the one-hour carriage ride through narrow country lanes. The vehicle bumped over potholes with the occasional jolt that almost threw them off their seats when the wooden wheels caught in ruts.
Sarah huddled against the squabs, trying to ignore the smell of sweat laced with garlic and the patches where Macassar oil had stained the leather. Her thoughts were with Grey and Davey as she stared out of the window at the winter landscape of bare trees, and the dark earth where ploughed fields waited for the touch of spring warmth to bring them back to life.
‘Where are your friends staying?’
She looked up to find Gaston staring at her. His lips were smiling which belied the calculating look in his eyes. She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘No matter. There cannot be many Englishmen in the village who are hiding from the law.’
‘Who said they were hiding?’ Sarah demanded, glaring at Nettie. ‘What have you told him?’
Nettie giggled nervously. ‘I said their boat had gone down in a storm, that’s all.’
‘And you two ladies are going to bring them home,’ Gaston said smoothly. ‘Or perhaps just one of them will be returning with you.’
‘Perhaps,’ Sarah said stonily.
‘And I will make enquiries when we arrive.’ Gaston turned his head to look out of the window. ‘We will be there very soon, I think.’
Minutes later the carriage drew to a halt and Gaston leapt out first. He helped Nettie to alight and proffered his hand to Sarah, but she climbed down without his assistance. Despite his pleasant manner she did not trust him. He did not seem put out by the rebuff and after a few words with the driver he turned to them with a smile. ‘We will start at the inn. This is always the best place to ask questions.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Does that suit you, Mademoiselle Sarah?’
‘I don’t want to keep you from your business,’ she said coldly. ‘I’m sure we can manage from now on, but thank you for your assistance.’
His smile seemed to be permanently attached to his face. ‘But I have come this far with you beautiful young ladies. It would be ungallant to abandon you now.’ He patted Nettie’s hand as it rested on his sleeve.
‘That’s very kind of you, Gaston,’ she said, sending a warning glance to Sarah. ‘We’re very grateful.’
Sarah could not disagree without appearing churlish and reluctantly she followed them to the inn. ‘We’ll wait outside,’ she said, grabbing Nettie by the hand before she could follow Gaston into the building.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ Nettie hissed. ‘He’s gone out of his way to help us and you’re behaving as if he’s a spy or something.’ She frowned. ‘No. Surely you can’t think that?’
‘I don’t trust him,’ Sarah said in a low voice. ‘I know you like him and you think he likes you, but I can’t help wondering why he’s going out of his way to help a couple of strangers.’
‘He does like me,’ Nettie said, pouting. ‘It’s just possible that he’s doing it because he’s a gent.’
‘Is that so? What if George Fitch sent him to find out where Grey is? Your French gent could be a policeman for all we know, or a private detective.’
‘But that’s silly.’
‘Is it? Well, we’ll see, but I don’t want him poking his elegant nose into what doesn’t concern him.’
‘I think you’re being unreasonable.’ Nettie glanced over her shoulder. ‘Here he comes. We won’t be able to find your mates without him, so for God’s sake stop scowling and smile.’
‘All right, but don’t encourage him.’ Sarah shivered as a cold wind tugged at her bonnet and a bank of dark clouds obliterated the sun. She could not raise a smile no matter how hard she tried. ‘Any news, Gaston?’ She made an effort to sound casual, but inwardly her pulses were racing and her palms were damp with sweat. If Gaston Fournier was in George Fitch’s pay all her efforts to save Grey would come to nothing. If he was a policeman the end result would be the same. She crossed her fingers.
‘Indeed, yes,’ he said, beaming. ‘There are two Englishmen staying on a farm nearby. I can take you there.’
‘You are so kind, Gaston.’ Nettie fluttered her lashes and took his arm in a possessive gesture that was not lost on Sarah.
‘You mustn’t waste any more of your valuable time on us,’ she said hastily. ‘I’m sure you must be eager to go about your bus
iness, Gaston. If you give us directions I’m sure we can find our way.’
His expression was urbane and gave nothing away. ‘I wouldn’t hear of it. We’ve come this far together and I want to see you safely reunited with your friends before I leave.’
Nettie smirked and Sarah seethed inwardly, but there was little she could do without appearing rude and ungrateful. ‘Is it far?’
‘It’s quite near, but it looks like rain and we’d better hurry.’ Gaston started forward at a brisk pace with Nettie making efforts to match his strides. There was nothing Sarah could do other than follow them. The narrow lane threaded its way between pastures where cows grazed and orchards filled with serried rows of dormant fruit trees. It had begun to rain as they reached the stone farmhouse, which was surrounded by a cluster of single-storey outbuildings. Once again Gaston asked them to remain in the shelter of the tiled porch while he went inside to make enquiries.
‘I don’t like this,’ Sarah murmured, wrapping her arms around her chilled body. ‘We don’t know what he’s saying to these people.’
‘It wouldn’t help if we were in there with him.’ Nettie looked around, wrinkling her nose. ‘This place stinks. I hope your mates aren’t being kept in the pigsty.’
Sarah opened her mouth to retort but Gaston emerged at that moment with a smug grin that made her want to slap him. He either did not understand the seriousness of the situation or he was congratulating himself on his success. She waited for him to speak.
‘The gentlemen in question are in the barn,’ he said, pointing at one of the outbuildings. ‘The farmer says we may visit them.’
‘I would rather go in alone,’ Sarah said firmly. ‘I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for us, Gaston. But I want to do this on my own.’