by Mary Nichols
‘If you think I am involved in this débâcle, you are mistaken.’ His lordship’s angry voice came to them as Lieutenant Tarrent tried to herd him with the other prisoners. He was given another prod before the distracted Charlotte intervened. ‘He is my uncle, Lord Falconer,’ she told Captain Topham. ‘He is visiting me.’
‘And why, my lady, were you on the beach at all?’ Gerard asked, nodding at the lieutenant to release the irate baron.
‘Viscount Darton’s daughter is missing. We have been searching for her. Oh, please help us to find her.’
Gerard looked at Stacey, who nodded. ‘I’d be grateful for your help, Captain.’
The prisoners were rounded up and hustled up the path to a prison van that waited at the top. It was a closed affair with tiny slits instead of windows and was drawn by four heavy horses. They were bundled in, a guard left on duty and the rest of the men dispersed to look for the missing girl. Stacey went with them, leaving Charlotte and her uncle to return to The Crow’s Nest.
And there they were in for another surprise. Stacey’s horse stood in the yard, still saddled, his reins trailing, munching the grass beside the path. ‘Ivor!’ Charlotte cried, starting forward. ‘Julia has come back on her own. Oh, thank God!’
She ran to the door, expecting it to be locked, but it swung inwards as soon as she touched it. No sooner had she stepped inside than she was grabbed from behind and a hand was put over her mouth and the door slammed shut. A harsh voice said, ‘Not a word if you value your life. I have a gun and I am not afraid to use it.’ It was Augustus Spike.
She struggled ineffectually, wondering as she did so why her uncle had not followed her into the house. ‘Keep still, my lady, or it will be the worse for you.’
He pushed her into a chair by the table and it was then she noticed Miss Quinn, Betsy and Julia, all white-faced with terror, their eyes telling her not to fight back. ‘You can’t shoot us all,’ she managed to say, though she was as frightened as they were.
‘One at a time, then.’ He grinned. ‘Who’d like to be first?’
‘Why shoot us at all? What have we done to harm you?’
‘Nothing, except bring the law down on my head. I warned Cecil I’d take you if he tried anything foolish, but it seems he does not value your life as much as I thought he did.’
‘What do you want with me?’
‘I want a carriage and horses brought to the door. Then we are going for a little ride.’
‘We can’t harness horses.’ She put her hands in the folds of her skirt to stop him seeing how much she was shaking.
‘No, but your men can.’
‘They are not here. They are out looking for Miss Darton.’
‘That filly?’ He grinned at Julia. ‘She’s a game one, I’ll give her that. Fought like a wild cat, she did. And who taught her to ride like that, I wonder?’
‘My grandfather, the Earl of Malcomby,’ Julia said defiantly. ‘And he will have something to say about all this when I tell him. So will my papa.’
‘Viscount Darton!’ He hawked into the dying embers of the fire. ‘That’s what I think of that muckworm.’ He pointed the gun directly at Julia’s head, making the other women gasp. Julia’s eyes filled with tears, but she dare not move. ‘We shall just have to wait here until he comes and then he’ll harness the horses fast enough, don’t you think?’
‘Then you might have a long wait,’ Charlotte said as calmly as she could, wondering as she spoke what had happened to Lord Falconer. Augustus Spike could not have known he was there or he would not have slammed the door almost in his face, but why had he not hammered on it, demanding to be let in? Unless he knew there was something wrong. ‘He has no reason to think his daughter is not safe in her bed and he is busy on the beach, helping the Coast Blockade men round up your confederates. Why would he come back here tonight?’
The man laughed, though he did not take the gun from Julia’s head. ‘He won’t be able to resist coming to see his light o’ love, all fired up he’ll be, thinking he’s got us all nabbed and not expecting to see me—’
They were startled by a loud knock on the door and the women looked at each other. Augustus turned a little, but he still pointed the gun at Julia. None of the women dared make a move against him in case it went off. ‘Open the door,’ he said to Charlotte. ‘And not a word unless you want a bullet in your back.’
She rose and slipped the catch, easing it back slowly. It was not Stacey, but her great-uncle who stood on the step. She could see no one else. ‘Let me in, Charlotte,’ he said.
‘I can’t.’
‘Let the man in,’ Augustus ordered.
Charlotte threw back the door and his lordship stepped over the threshold. He did not seem at all surprised at what he saw, but Augustus Spike was. He had been expecting Stacey and this man was a stranger. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded.
‘Lord Falconer,’ he said. ‘And who are you? What are you doing in my niece’s house?’
‘Your niece?’ The man laughed raucously and the gun, no longer trained on Julia, was brought to bear on Charlotte. ‘If you value her life, you’ll do as I say. I want a coach and horses put at my disposal. As you see, I have a pistol and it is loaded and primed.’
‘Then may I offer you my carriage? It is at the door.’ For an elderly man he was uncommonly calm, Charlotte marvelled. Fleetingly she wondered how he would get his equipage back if Mr Spike used it to escape the law.
‘Show me.’
His lordship turned and preceded him to the door. Augustus grabbed him and used him as a shield as he stepped outside and looked around. But the yard was deserted and a fine carriage and four of the best cattle he had seen in a very long time were harnessed to it. Charlotte, who had started after them and been restrained by Miss Quinn, watched with her hand to her mouth as Spike prodded his prisoner with the pistol towards the coach and opened the door with his free hand. ‘Get in, you’ll do instead of your niece. No one’s likely to stop the illustrious Lord Falconer, are they?’
Chapter Eleven
Charlotte, who had ventured as far as the kitchen door, saw her uncle suddenly duck sideways and a man leaped from the interior of the carriage, bowling Augustus to the ground. It was a mad thing to do with the pistol in the hands of that maniac and Charlotte’s heart was in her mouth until she saw the pistol skid away across the yard. Lord Falconer, nimble for his age, picked it up, but he could not use it because the two men, Augustus Spike and Stacey, were struggling together, rolling around in the dirt, first one on top, then the other.
Other men appeared from behind the side of the house and the stables, including Jem and Jenkins, and though they gathered round, ready to intervene should the Viscount need their help, they did nothing but watch. Stacey was incensed and determined to punish his man before the law stepped in. He was battering him for terrifying Julia, for what had been done to Charlotte, his normally calm eyes red with fury. Nor was he having it all his own way; his opponent was not one to give up without a struggle. The noise of neighing horses, of things clattering about the yard and men’s voices, brought the other women and Julia running to the door to watch with Charlotte in fascinated horror. At last, with Augustus Spike looking the worse for wear, Stacey broke off the fight and stood up, somewhat unsteadily. ‘Take him away,’ he said to Gerard, dusting himself down.
Augustus was led away to join his fellow smugglers in the prison van, leaving Stacey to look around for Charlotte and Julia. They were standing side by side in the kitchen doorway. Charlotte had her arm about his daughter, who was clinging to her, pale faced and wide-eyed, though the earlier terror had gone to be replaced by excitement and pride that her father could be so brave.
He held out his arms and she ran into them. ‘Oh, Papa! Papa! Are you hurt?’
‘No, my sweet, a few bruises, nothing more.’
‘He said he would kill me.’
‘Well, he can’t do it now.’ He looked over her head at Charlotte. She was looking at him
, unsure of herself, and he remembered the last time he had seen her, down on the beach as the smugglers came ashore, and he had spoken harshly to her. He hadn’t meant it, surely she realised that? He smiled and held out his hand to her. ‘Charlotte?’
She joined Julia in his encircling arms. He held them both close against him and breathed a deep sigh. They were safe, these two women of his, and if he had his way he would never part from either of them again. ‘It’s all over,’ he said softly. ‘You are safe.’
Gerard coughed behind him, reminding him he had an audience, not that he cared about that, but there was still a little unfinished business to see to before he could have that talk with Charlotte. And he supposed that later it would have to include Lord Falconer and Julia. He put them gently from him. ‘Time you were in bed, Julia. I will talk to you in the morning.’
‘You are not angry with me?’
He was tempted to tell her he had never been so angry in his life, but then he smiled. Somehow or other he would tame her, he and Charlotte between them, and she would grow into a beautiful young woman, to be unselfish and consider others, to feel compassion for those less fortunate, as Charlotte did, but he hoped she would never lose her spirit. ‘Do you not think I should be?’ he asked mildly.
‘Oh, yes, but I am so dreadfully sorry and I promise I will never disobey you again.’
He laughed joyously. ‘Do not make promises you cannot keep, sweetheart. Now go indoors and go to bed. I will see you in the morning.’
‘It is morning already.’ She pointed at the eastern sky where the light of dawn tinged the sea on the distant horizon a coral pink.
‘So it is. You have been up all night. Now go and sleep. I will be there when you wake.’
She went reluctantly. He turned to Charlotte. ‘You, too, my darling.’
She turned her face up to his. His hair was falling over his eyes, there was a blue-black bruise forming beneath one eye and a small cut on his chin. His knuckles were rapidly turning black and blue. ‘And are you still angry with me?’
‘I never was.’
‘It sounded like anger to me.’
‘I am sorry, my love, I was worried and spoke in haste. Please go to bed and try to sleep. You are exhausted and we have a lot to talk about, but that will do after you have rested. I must bid Captain Topham goodbye and talk to his lordship. I am afraid I have not made a very good first impression on him.’
She turned to look at her uncle, who was watching them, a look of bewilderment on his face. There was so much to say, so much to explain, so many questions she wanted to ask—Why he had turned up at that particular time? How they had contrived the trap for Augustus? What had they said to each other? What would happen in the future, to her and her school, to the Manor, to the captured smugglers, Cecil in particular?—but she was so tired they refused to form themselves into words.
Stacey lifted her hand to his lips and turned it over so that he kissed the inside of her wrist. Oh, how bittersweet that was and how it made her long to be in his arms, but there were a dozen men watching her, not to mention Betsy and Miss Quinn, who stood in the kitchen doorway, grinning like a couple of Cheshire cats. ‘Goodnight,’ she whispered. ‘Come soon, won’t you?’
‘Try keeping me away.’
She turned and went into the kitchen, weariness in every bone of her body, and it was not simply that she had been up all night, but the emotional turmoil she had been through. And it was not over yet. She was in for a quizzing from Lord Falconer and Stacey would still want to know why she had not kept a better watch on his daughter. If she had prevented Julia from going out, then Mr Spike would never have been able to force his way into The Crow’s Nest and his lordship and Stacey would not have been put at risk. How could he forgive her for that? How could she forgive herself?’
‘Did Julia go to bed?’ she asked Joan Quinn.
‘Yes, but she swore she would not sleep until you had been up to see her.’
‘I’ll go now. You both go to bed.’
‘My lady, it will not be worth the bother; it will be time to start breakfast in less than an hour,’ Betsy said. ‘I’d sooner stay awake.’
‘Me too,’ Miss Quinn said. ‘Lizzie and Fanny will be stirring soon. You go up. We’ll see to everything.’
‘But there is Lord Falconer. He must be accommodated.’ She turned to him. He was sitting at the table, eating a cake Betsy had put in front of him. ‘My lord, I am sorry to be such a poor hostess.’
‘It is of no consequence. Go to bed. We will talk in the morning.’
‘Very well.’ And to the servants. ‘You will call me when Lord Darton comes, won’t you?’
They smiled knowingly at each other and assured her they would and she climbed the stairs to Julia’s room, fully expecting to find her asleep, but the child was awake and waiting for her. Charlotte sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to stroke the girl’s cheek. ‘You must sleep now, Julia. You must be very tired.’
‘I couldn’t, not until I’d said sorry. I should not have taken Ivor.’
‘No, you should not. You gave us all a terrible fright, you know, but you are safe now and we’ll talk about it later, when your papa comes.’
‘He will be angry.’
‘Perhaps. There were bad men about tonight and that was why he wanted us to stay safely indoors.’
‘He was very brave, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes.’
‘I wasn’t running away, you know. I only wanted to have a ride. I didn’t mean to be gone long, but I couldn’t find a way down to the beach. I rode through the wood and into the village and found the place the fishermen use for their boats and I had a lovely gallop along the water’s edge.’
‘We were looking for you, so why did no one see you?’
‘I went the other way. I thought I would be back before you missed me, but it was so good to be on horseback and Ivor was enjoying it so much I stayed too long. And then, when I was nearly home, I heard a commotion on the beach and some shots and that horrible man jumped out at me from the trees and grabbed Ivor’s bridle. He pulled me off…’
‘Never mind,’ Charlotte soothed as the girl showed signs of distress. ‘Do not think of it.’
She gave a little giggle. ‘He wanted to steal Ivor, but as soon as he climbed on his back Ivor threw him. He won’t let anyone ride him but Papa. And me. He knows me.’
Charlotte smiled. ‘Animals are often wiser than we are, you know.’
‘The man pulled out that pistol and made me lead the horse back to the house. I was very frightened and—’
‘You were very brave.’
‘I am sorry, truly, I am. I won’t do it again, I promise.’
‘Good.’ Charlotte pulled the covers up to Julia’s chin and bent to kiss her forehead. ‘Now go to sleep and when you wake, your papa will be here.’
‘If he is angry, you will tell him I mean to be good. Tell him I don’t want to leave and go to that other horrid school.’
‘How do you know it is horrid?’
‘Oh, it is bound to be. All the others were. I want to stay with you. I will be good…’ Her eyelids drooped and she was asleep before she finished the sentence. Charlotte rose and left to go to her own bed.
In a few hours she would have to face Stacey and explain herself and she wished she could be as sure of forgiveness as Julia. Without it, there was no hope for her with Stacey. But, oh, how wonderful it was to hear him call her his darling. He would not have done that if he meant to ring a peal over her, would he?
Not that she didn’t deserve it. She had been very remiss, negligent to the extent she had allowed one of her pupils to run into danger. Even if Stacey forgave her, she could never forgive herself. They had been right, those people who said she was not capable of running a school, and it was conceited of her to think she could. And she could not blame Stacey if he insisted on removing his daughter from her influence. She undressed and climbed into bed, not expecting to be able to sleep, but her wea
riness overcame her as soon as her head touched the pillow and she sank into oblivion.
She woke later to find the sun streaming through the window and the clock in the hall striking noon and her first waking thought, as it had been the last before she slept, was Stacey. She scrambled from her bed to find Miss Quinn quietly fetching out her clothes for the day. Over her arm she held a gown in dove grey sarcenet, trimmed with blue ruching under the bust and in several rows around the hem. It had a round neck filled with a lace bertha and puffed sleeves. ‘Quinny, why have you brought that out? I am in mourning still.’
‘No, you are not, my lady, beggin’ your pardon. I reckon your mourning is done. You could go into half-mourning, or none at all. His lordship has been gone these three months now and he was not your own father, was he?’
‘I loved him.’
‘So you did, just as you loved Sir Grenville, but they would both have wanted you to be happy.’
‘Is Lord Darton here?’
‘He came, but you were asleep and he said not to wake you, he would return later. I think he went into the village with Lord Falconer. I heard tell there’s men lining up at the Rectory…’
Charlotte hurried with her toilette and half an hour later was dressed and sitting over a cup of coffee in her little sitting room, having refused breakfast, and it was there Stacey found her. She rose to greet him, suddenly as shy as a young girl. He looked so big and, in spite of that dreadful bruise on his face and the little cut in his chin already healing, so handsome, dressed in a brown frockcoat, nankeen waistcoat and long straight trousers strapped under his shoes, emphasising the length of his legs.
He stood in the doorway, drinking in the sight of her. Her cheeks were pink, her wonderful aquamarine eyes so luminous they seemed to bathe him in their light. Her lips, rosy and inviting, were smiling just a little diffidently. If he had not known otherwise he would have taken her for someone ten years younger than her thirty years. Not that her age made the slightest difference to the way he felt about her. He loved her and would do so until the day he died.