“Searching?” The woman rose and tottered. “Do you mean she has run away?”
“No, she has been abducted.”
“Mon Dieu.” The count dropped his saber and went to take Louisa’s hand and comfort her though at the moment he looked paler than she did.
“No one has contacted us for ransom,” Louisa said.
Marian noted that the man’s green uniform had been patched in several places and the rest of the poor furnishings suggested they were impoverished.
“Louisa, I think he means he suspects we have abducted her.”
“That is absurd. I would love to see my Charlotte but I would never endanger her. We are about to be overrun by the British army.”
The French officer turned back to them. “As you have surmised, I am Le Compte de Villars. Since I am on leave I had some thought of taking Louisa out of the path of danger. We have, in fact, made contact with a packet that may take her to England. Will I be arrested?”
“Not by me. As you’ve probably guessed, I am Lord Wyle. I’m only interested in getting Charlotte back.”
Cole cocked the pistol. “You believe them? I thought you would have been outraged, demanded an explanation from them.”
“Put that away,” Wyle said. “Someone could accidently be shot in a disturbance. No, I believe them but it does leave us at trail’s end, so to speak.”
Cole did take the hammer off cock and seemed to be thinking. “If the abductor was going to demand a ransom from the mother, they would be holding the girl in this area. I shall send my men to the local tavern and see what they can discover.”
“Oh, please do,” Louisa said. “Whatever they ask, I will pay it.”
The count opened his mouth to say something, then closed it with a sad smile. “Whatever we have can be used for the ransom. There are always your jewels.”
“Yes, take them. We must get her back.”
Marian had wondered how she would feel about Louisa but she felt only sadness for her. “Perhaps we should not impose on the count and his lady any longer.”
The man’s fair hair fell across his still handsome but worn face. Only his brown eyes held some energy. “I’m sorry. You are?”
“Miss Greenway, the governess.”
The count raised an eyebrow but Louisa accepted the explanation.
“If only we knew who did this. “Louisa said, then began weeping. He put his handkerchief in her hand.
The count rang then for the aged servant and invited the party to supper, such as it was. Marian was thankful for the hot soup and reviving wine. Louisa had many questions about Henry and Charlotte and Wyle answered each patiently. She held a locket with the two of them in it, old pictures. Marian found herself much in sympathy with the woman and vowed to send new portraits of the children. But for the moment they had to wait on the whim of Cole.
Sure enough his men obtained rumors of an English girl being held an hour’s drive away by coach.
After he gave them directions, Villars said, “I know this place. It is little more than a ruin. I will have my horse saddled and come with you. You may need safe conduct through the region.”
“We appreciate the offer but it’s full night now. No one is likely to accost us. Besides, someone must stay with Louisa.”
“Perhaps Miss Greenway.”
“No, Charlotte will need me when we find her. I must go.”
Louisa burst into tears again so the count was prevailed on to stay with his wife.
Wyle turned at the door. “I will bring Charlotte back for a visit before taking her home.”
“Is there nothing we can do?” Villars asked.
“The hardest task of all, wait.”
* * * * *
They stopped the coach at a turn in the drive out of sight of the front gate. Marian jumped out and the others followed. The chateau, as the count said, was little more than a ruin. Wyle would have been surprised if there was a sound roof among all the buildings. “How shall we approach this time, Marian?” Cole asked. “Rap on the door.”
“No, I think stealth is in order this time. I promised the coachman a fortune to wait for us. I suggest you and the rest of your men scale that wall to the left while we slip in through some break in the ruin on the right. There is sure to be one.”
“I perceive you assign us the more strenuous task. I don’t know why I let you have the ordering of this expedition.”
Nevertheless he went off with the seamen while Hill led Marian and Wyle around the upended building blocks and fallen walls by the easiest path.
“Will they scale the wall, do you think?” Wyle asked.
“Not if one of his henchmen is on the alert for them. It serves the purpose of separating them from us.”
“Wonderful, they will be waiting inside,” Wyle said.
“But we know it. I assure you I have a plan. I suggest starting our search in the basement of the main house.”
“The donjon,” Hill quipped. “Better and better.”
The iron fence that bordered the properly along the steep hillside was contorted by some tree roots enough for them to slip though, and they found an opening into the house near the middle of the back wall at what used to be a stairway into the yard.
“I had forgotten we might need a light,” Wyle whispered.
“Nothing would be more fatal. We can feel our way to a door that goes upstairs.”
Along the main corridor of the basement there was already a dim light burning off to one side. They crept along the hall and Wyle stood on his toes to look into the barred grill. “My God. It’s Major Greenway.”
“Who’s there?” the man whispered.
“Papa, are you indeed there? Are you all right?”
“Marian, I should have known. The key is on the ledge over the door. They have not bought my supper yet, so you must be quick.”
Hill found the key and finessed the lock. Wyle eased the door open with an effort and Marian embraced her father.
“Did you know he might be here?” Wyle asked in amazement.
“I had some faint hope.”
“Sir, you must make your way out and wait for us,” Hill said. “We have still to rescue Wyle’s daughter.”
“The girl I heard crying? I’m coming with you.”
“In that case, which is the way to the stair?”
“Follow me.” He picked up the stump of candle and led them forward into the gloom.
“You move well for a man held in a damp basement.”
“Up until yesterday I was kept prisoner outside Bordeaux. Why they moved me here I have no idea.”
Cole was drawing everyone together,” Marian said. “He knew where Louisa was because the count made contact to get them out of France, so he had Charlotte brought here and you as well.”
“To what purpose?” her father asked.
“Of that I am not sure. I think his machinations included only you and me until I became engaged to Wyle. Cole meant to force me to marry him to save your life. When I did not ride with the children and was not abducted by his henchmen he had to revise his strategy. Now I think he wants both of you dead. Charlotte’s capture was to compel my compliance.”
“I would have come for you if he had taken you,” Wyle assured her.
“Perhaps that’s what he had in mind, a handy trap to get you here, then his revenge.”
They crept up the stairs and found the basement door gave onto the kitchen. Though there were food smells, no one was about, so they picked up extra weapons and crept toward the door. It was ajar and by peeking though the crack Wyle could see Charlotte at one end of table staring at her plate.
“You must eat, my dear,” Cole said. “How else will you keep up your strength?”
“Why have you done this?”
“No appetite, I see. Perhaps if the rest of our guests join us,” he said with a raised voice. A man out of sight to the right of the door pushed it open and Wyle had no choice but the step into the room. Besides the sailors, th
ere were half a dozen other men around the periphery, counting the cook.
“Father!” Charlotte bolted from the table and fell in his arms.
“Has he hurt you?”
“No but he frightened me. Why did he take us and what happened to Henry?”
“Henry is fine. As to why, I imagine it was to get me here. You see he wants to marry your dear governess and I seem to be an impediment to his plans.”
“Miss Greenway. You here as well? And Mr. Hill.” Charlotte left her father’s arms to fall into Hill’s.
“And me, Miss Greenway’s father. At one point Cousin Cole thought my imprisonment would compel my daughter into marriage. Had she agreed to such a match, my life would have been worth nothing.”
“As opposed to now?” Cole asked.
“But he thought he found a better lever,” Hill snarled, “An innocent child.”
Cole stood. “You men, take them all below except Miss Greenway.”
“You scum,” Hill shouted and drew his sword on the two men who approached with cutlasses.
“No!” Marian yelled.
Wyle found himself facing Cole and hoped Marian would have enough sense to get Charlotte out of harm’s way. He could see Major Greenway fending off two of the ruffians with an iron candle stand and Marian laying about her with a large frying pan she’d grabbed from the table. It looked hot, the contents having scalded one of her opponents.
For a large man Cole fenced well, better than a maimed soldier. Wyle kicked a chair in front of him but only tripped the cook who was trying to escape the room. Her cousin bore down on him and knocked him onto the table. He rolled over it backward but landed badly on his game leg. Cole grinned and raised his saber to strike.
A pistol report filled the room with smoke and noise. Everyone hesitated and Cole dropped his sword with a grimace. “You nearly took my hand off. You’ll pay for that.”
“Just evening the odds,” Marian said. “Now that I have your attention, swordplay was never on the agenda for this meeting.”
“It wasn’t?” Wyle asked.
“No, we came to negotiate.”
Cole smirked. “With what? You haven’t even a shot left. Seeing that you have no leverage…” He sneered as Marian approached, her hand beside her skirt.
“You’ll listen to me or you’ll be picking your guts up off this floor. A knife is always loaded.”
Major Greenway chuckled as Cole turned pale, staring down at the blade digging into his ample belly.
“Now that I have your attention, here are my terms. Everyone gets to leave unmolested and I stay provided you are willing to marry me.”
A chorus of “no”s, met her statement but Cole glanced shrewdly at her. “I could have them all killed and have you anyway.”
“Might I remind you how much more pleasant a willing wife would be?”
“That was your plan?” Wyle asked in horror. “To stay with him.”
“You never trusted me, Wyle,” Marian said. “A grave mistake on your part.”
He looked at her with such pain in his eyes. Would he understand finally that she could take care of herself? If not, if he tried to play the hero in this they might all die. Finally he seemed to come to a decision and stared at her with a pleading look that said better than words, please keep safe.
“What do I get out of this besides you?” Cole asked. “You’re not much of a bargain.”
Marian looked up at Cole. “I guarantee you freedom from prosecution. If they send the law after you, I die. And they don’t want the scandal anyway. Father’s estate will come to you in time through me. Not as quickly as you had hoped. But you have enough put by to survive. Smuggling will be harder once the war is over and the navy can be employed to keep it in check. Besides, I have the one thing you have always found out of reach.”
“What is that?”
“Respectability.”
He gave a short laugh and looked down. “That sounds odd coming from a woman holding a knife to someone’s gut”
“Nevertheless, that is all I am prepared to offer. And it is your gut.”
He snorted a laugh. “I see your point. Agreed.”
“I have to see them all leave and all your men will wait inside with us to assure me they are not followed.”
“Father,” Charlotte shouted, “You cannot allow this.”
“I don’t think Miss Greenway is giving any of us much choice. What say you Major?”
“There’s no reasoning with Marian when she is like this. I recommend we obey her orders.”
“But, sir,” Hill protested. He pressed his hand over an arm wound bleeding sluggishly but Charlotte finally noticed it and attempted to staunch it with her scrap of handkerchief.
“The carriage is in the courtyard,” Cole said. “Be gone in five minutes.”
“Come, all of you,” the major ordered, as he picked up a saber in place of the candle stand.
Marian walked with her cousin to the window to watch. Hill untied the wizened coachman but it was Wyle who drove with the terrified Frenchman up beside him pointing the way. As the carriage disappeared she felt satisfaction. She was far from safe herself but at least everyone else was.
“The wedding will have to wait,” Cole said. “English clergymen don’t grow on trees in France.”
“No, I don’t expect they do. Have you a chamber where I can wash up?”
“Wash up? First give me that pigsticker.”
“You may have it now.”
“You.” He pointed the knife at the cook. “Hot water to my chamber now.”
Then he took Marian’s arm and escorted her upstairs. There was rubble on the steps from the roof and the boards of the upstairs hall were uneven but he thrust open the door to a chamber that seemed to have been preserved. At least the bed hangings were not rotten and the furniture unbroken.
“I have waited a long time for this,” he said, standing back to look at her.
“Is there any wine? Perhaps brandy.”
“No, we don’t want any wine. Next you’ll be ordering tea as though this is all normal when it is not.” His hand clenched on the knife did not disturb her. After fighting so hard to get her here she did not think he would kill her.
“Cole, the whole situation is of your making. It turned out exactly as you had planned. How is that not normal?”
He opened his mouth to reply but the cook slid in with a pannikin of steaming water. Marian discarded her cloak and jacket, then unbuttoned her cuffs and picked up the soap. “Mmm, French. No one can make soap like them.”
“I must be going mad. Is this all it took to win you, an abduction?”
“Well, I suppose your plan was not so convoluted. You planned to have them snatch me along with the children. But the deal would still have been the same. If you had killed my father I would have hunted you down like a cur.” She dried her face and hands, then glanced around the room.
“You set a pretty high price on yourself. I hope you’re worth it.”
“You’re the one who set the price. Just remember that.” She walked to the bureau. “Ah, brandy.”
“If you’re thinking to get me drunk, it won’t work. I have a hard head.”
“No, I’m thinking to get me drunk. I don’t want to remember any of this. I need a glass.”
He turned impatiently to pick up a glass from the bedside table and the decanter crashed into his skull and took him down. Marian bolted the door, gagged him and began the arduous task of tying him up with strips of bed linen.
* * * * *
“You are going back for her, aren’t you?” Charlotte called from inside the coach.
“Don’t worry,” Major Greenway assured her. “You don’t imagine that is the only knife she has. It was a kitchen knife, so she still has the boot dirk I gave her hidden away.”
“I’m going back as soon as we reach the road,” Wyle said. “Hill can’t drive with that arm. The coachman is too distraught. What about you, Major Greenway? I’ll go back i
n the way we did before—“
”No there is another door,” Greenway said, craning his neck out the window.
“I’m coming too,” Hill said.
“Arrgh, we all just escaped. We can’t all go back. Hill, you have to take care of Charlotte. The major and I can handle this.”
“I think I can manage it alone,” Greenway said.
A group of three horsemen confronted the carriage and Wyle had no choice but to stop. If they were highwaymen…
“C’est moi, Le Compte de Villars.”
“Sir, you should not be on a horse,” Wyle said.
“Charlotte, is she with you?”
“Yes and she is fine. This solves our problem. Villars, can you lend us your horses and take Charlotte and Hill home in the carriage?”
“I know I am not much use but I should be helping you.”
“Making sure Charlotte is safe will be help enough. We have to go back for Marian, hence the need for horses.”
“They are yours.” The count dismounted with a hop and ordered his servants to take charge of the carriage while he limped to the door and got inside with Charlotte and Hill.
They made the exchange and cantered back, surprised to find the main gate still open. They tethered the horses and were making their way toward the side door and discussing their entry when a large bundle slid out of an upper window and inched down the side of the building on silken bed cords, then tied-together sheets which apparently fell short of the distance for it dropped the last ten feet with a thud.
“Is that your nephew?”
Marian’s head appeared in the window. “Yes, we may need him,” she whispered.
“But you’ve used up all the rope,” Wyle complained. “How will you get down?”
“On this vine. It will support my weight.”
Not to Wyle’s surprise Marian had secreted breeches under her riding dress and now tossed her skirt and cloak down in a bundle. She found toe and handholds on the ivy but half a story from the bottom it pulled away from the stones and Wyle rushed forward and caught her.
“Is everything going according to your plan now?” he asked, setting her on her feet.
“Except the need for conveyance.”
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