“There’s something I want to explain to you, Alexandra,” Adam said touching the sleeve of her new blue spencer and running his forefinger across the luxurious velvet. She withdrew her arm, her stomach lurched, and she wished Raffles had not begun a conversation with Father Fox to his right. “There is a girl in the village by “Foxhills”.” Adam hesitated as Alexandra looked away. “She has been done a great wrong.”
“Whatever has happened is no business of mine,” Alexandra said.
“I should like to explain.”
“No explanation is necessary,” Alexandra said firmly.
“Nevertheless, it impinges upon the happiness and reputation of members of our family and I ask that you allow me to…”
Alexandra could feel tears welling in her eyes; she could not bear to have what she had seen, verified. “Please – I do not wish to know.”
“It is important to me that you do know. Truth is not always perceptible.”
“Truth and darkness do not go together,” Alexandra was thinking of his late-night visits. “Truth can bear the light, Adam.”
“That is exactly what I wish to do now.” Adam took his handkerchief and attempted to wipe a rolling tear before it dropped on to Alexandra’s velvet sleeve. She pulled away and wiped the tear with her finger. Drat! How could she cry? She never cried. She was a fighter – of that she was sure. This damn man – how could he do this to her!
At that moment, a voice said, “Do please forgive me.” It was so soft that it might have gone unnoticed, had not the tall, thin Emmeline Carpenter, chaperone to Charlotte for the day, accidentally knocked Alexandra as she reached to tap Raffles on his ample shoulder.
Having gained the attention of all three, the rather dowdily dressed Emmeline said again, a little louder, “Please forgive me. I am afraid I have failed in my duty to chaperone Miss Carpenter.”
“Forgiven, my child,” said Raffles expansively.
“Ah, Raffles, my good man – I think we are missing the point.” Adam stood up and attempted, but failed, to prise Raffles from his chair. Raffles managed to raise himself a little but, by so doing, nearly brought down the tablecloth and all arranged thereon. “You are saying that Miss Charlotte Carpenter is missing from our company?”
“With Jack Leigh-Fox,” Emmeline said in an ominous tone and expression to match.
Adam groaned audibly. “Not again.” Standing behind Alexandra, he gently squeezed her shoulders. Swiftly removing his hands, he patted his chair. “Miss Emmeline, come and sit here and our good Parson Raffles will take care of you whilst I attempt to take care of your charge.” Alexandra distinctly heard him say, “and my brother,” as he strode towards the edge of the woods to disturb Esky from his contented grazing.
Emmeline looked across at Raffles who leaned in closer to hear, “Charlotte found him ‘adorably amusing’ she said, and it seemed to me that he was greatly enjoying her company too. I last saw them in the landau, doing what Charlotte does best. Flirting with her fan.”
Adam cantered up to them and called out, “Which way did they go?”
“I think they’ve taken the landau. It was by the river and I thought they were safe and…”
“I’ll follow the tracks,” Adam interrupted. “The ground is damp enough there for wheel ruts to betray them.”
On any other occasion, the look he gave Alexandra would have been sufficient to feed her dreams for a year.
Hide in Time ~ Anna Faversham
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“I have opened your letter.” Father Fox looked across the dining table to Jack. “The situation is utterly deplorable.”
Jack scoffed. Then, curiosity roused, he demanded, “What letter?”
Alexandra was replaying in her mind the conversation she had just had with Billy. More than a month had gone by before he chose to tell her that William declared himself to be the rider of Esky that night she had caught such a fever. He had looked a little sheepish – as well he might. But was it true? Was William taking the blame for his employer?
Jack smashed his fist on the table. The cutlery chinked against the rattling china.
This could be a big one.
Jack stood up and, like a spouting geyser, punched his arms in the air, gritted his teeth, and strode towards his father.
Although it was obvious they were at the beginning of another of Jack’s riveting volcanic eruptions, a fact had fallen into place in her mind and she must not lose hold of it. Billy had said that William understood what Alexandra had asked and later explained, by drawing pictures in the dirt, something about it being he who’d been out on Esky. Not Adam. Definitely not Adam visiting the girl. That’s what Adam had been trying to explain a whole month ago at the picnic. So was William seeing the girl? Perhaps he had permission to ride Esky. She should give her attention to the unfolding spectacle.
“When did this letter arrive?” Jack snarled.
“Jack, sit down,” Father Fox entreated. “You know I cannot sleep at nights if I am challenged.” Jack seemed unable to attend to what had been said; it was unlikely he’d care anyway. Another one-sided contest had begun.
“Sit down, Jack,” Adam thundered, then quietly dismissed Johnson. “Father, I fear the ladies had expected to eat. Might we not allow the ladies to dine and we could resume this discussion later or elsewhere?”
Jack marched back to stand opposite Adam. “You! You haven’t even been seen for a month and you start telling everyone what to do! Just where have you been?”
“Estate matters.”
“Estate matters? This estate is not yours and if I have anything to do with it, it never will be.” Jack prowled around the table.
“That decision lies in father’s gift,” said Adam.
An unwelcome thought flashed through Alexandra’s mind. If it was William riding Esky, it was unlikely he’d be secretly leaving a sovereign for the girl – unless he was doing it on behalf of someone else. The truth was still eluding her. She chided herself – it was time to give this unfolding row her full attention.
Then in staccato fashion Father Fox said. “You will sit down Jack this very moment or you will be disinherited – forthwith.” He paused, reverting to his customary unruffled tones once Jack had seated himself at the far end of the table in what had once been his mother’s seat. “I have opened your letter and I shall share the contents of it after I have made known the substance of this one I have received from Sir Charles Carpenter.” He looked specifically at the two young ladies close to him. “Forgive me, I wish you to witness my words.”
Alexandra blinked as if in affirmation but more in shock, while Catherine, with eyes wide, nodded.
“Sir Charles tells me that Lady Carpenter has died.” Surprise preceded puzzlement then concern on the faces of the two girls. “Her heart stopped following an altercation with Miss Emmeline Carpenter regarding failure in her duty to care for Charlotte whilst attending our picnic.” Father Fox glared at Jack at the opposite end of the table.
“The man’s an idiot! Blaming us for a foaming row in his household,” Jack bellowed.
As if there had been no interruption, Father Fox continued. “Miss Charlotte Carpenter has been unwell in the past week. It may be that she is disturbed by the loss of her mother but the indication is that they will wish to contact us again soon.”
Jack shrugged the implication off with a smirk. “It’s of no consequence to us, one way or the other.”
“This letter is phrased in the sternest terms.” Father Fox put the missive to one side as he said, “Miss Emmeline Carpenter, in disgrace, is obliged to seek other patronage.”
Whilst it would be incorrect to say that Adam remained impassive, Alexandra noticed he betrayed little beyond a practised endurance of perpetual troubles. In contrast, Jack sneered.
“While you sneer, others suffer.” Father Fox stood up, leaned forward, and rested his forefingers on the table-top. “Not so long ago, a young girl from the other side of town drowned, with my grandc
hild in her arms.”
Catherine gasped, her eyes widening further as she looked from her father to Jack.
“You may as well have murdered them both.”
“It wasn’t I who sent them to their deaths – he did!” Jack pointed at Adam. “Interfering in business not his own.” He stood up again, but discernibly remembering his father’s threat of disinheritance, immediately sat down sharply. “Just what right had he to pay for that slut’s passage to America?” He paused before scoffing, “Start a new life! She only knew how to start a rumour!”
“It cost your brother his own happiness.”
“Happiness? With Laura? She left him!”
Adam looked as though he’d reached his limit and would send Jack to the hereafter with one blow but his father raised his palm, urging patience.
“Laura left him because you allowed her to think the child was Adam’s. When William told Adam how you’d misled her, you cut out his tongue.”
“Well he could hardly speak anyway. It was all gibberish. Better a bell with no clanger than one that’s made of jelly.”
Alexandra now gasped. It was so much worse than she could have imagined.
“And in that shipwreck, I lost a child of my blood, and Adam his betrothed.”
Alexandra felt the table move; Adam could barely stay in his seat. How could he bear to live in the same house as this monstrous brother? Oh she had so misjudged him. Just as that Laura had.
“Then,” Father Fox adjusted his stance and resumed, “Adam had to make arrangements for one of the maids to leave and you turned your attentions to the housekeeper. Our housekeeper who had served us for nigh on twenty years.”
“And me for five minutes!” Jack laughed pushing himself back from the table and rocking on his chair.
Catherine gasped and began to cry.
“There is also the girl in the village. Maintained by Adam, once again, from his personal allowance, whilst you spend yours on gambling.”
Jack exploded. “And you think Adam doesn’t gamble? You jobbernowl! What is the Stock Market, if not gambling?”
Confrontation was not the favoured style of Father Fox but now he appeared to harden his stance further. “You are not low-born, John Charles Richard Leigh-Fox; address your father correctly.” The only sound was yet another scoff from Jack. Father Fox ignored it and continued, “The knowledge and wisdom employed in that occupation has kept this family afloat…”
“Pity it couldn’t keep Laura afloat.” Jack muttered and continued rocking his chair.
With one bound, Adam seized Jack’s shoulders from behind and shoved his chair forwards. Jack attempted to stand, pushing his hands against the table but he couldn’t oppose the force of Adam. Jack raised both his hands to grasp his brother but Adam seized his forearms and flattened them against the top of the table, and leant forwards so that Jack’s face was inches away from the table. Grasping Jack’s two hands with his own, he took hold of Jack’s hair with the other and it was quite clear that if Jack moved, he’d be seeing the table even closer.
Only when Catherine began to sob did Adam relinquish his hold and return to comfort his sister, but not before he’d muttered to Jack, “Move and you'll father no more.” This had the desired effect; Jack’s face drained of blood, giving him a sickly pallor.
“We must await further news of Miss Charlotte Carpenter.” Father Fox looked at each of them, as if inspecting their capacity to continue listening. “And now we come to this utterly deplorable letter addressed to you, Jack. That is if you are ‘the son of a stump-brained bumpkin, whose mother rots in hell.’”
Adam seethed, but his father conveyed a look that seemed to say ‘trust me’. Alexandra marvelled at Adam’s restraint; it appeared to be costing him dear. She suspected he had been forewarned; nothing less could assist his self-control.
Father Fox held the letter up and said, “Following the preliminary incorrect salutations, it demands you either marry the sister of the ridiculous Alfred the Great, as he styles himself, or settle all your debts to him which amount, he says, to over two thousand guineas.”
“Rot, pure rot!” roared Jack.
Father Fox continued, “You must also make a further payment to him for the maintenance of his sister. He demands you meet him tonight at the ‘King’s Arms’, with payment, or a ring with which to wed her. If you refuse to make an honest woman of her, now that she is carrying your child, you will be held responsible for the provision of three thousand pounds to enable her to marry another.”
Jack leapt up, “Lying toad! On my honour I never touched his foul-mouthed kin. That scheming charlatan! I’ll kill him.” Father Fox murmured that ‘his honour’ might not be something he should call to people’s attention. Jack shot past him shouting, “A sharp prod with the sword will remind him not to taunt his betters. And if he forgets, his innards will be much appreciated by our pigs.”
The silence that followed was heavy and dark, like lead.
Father Fox slumped in his chair. “The letter arrived last week; I refrained from making its contents known earlier otherwise Jack would attempt to raise this absurd amount in his usual fashion. I have sought assistance but we are close to bankruptcy. I have nothing more to offer. This burden now falls on you, my wild honey Adam. I relinquish my interest. There are many dependent upon this estate for their living. The family’s fortunes and theirs are in your hands.” He lowered his head as he said, “My own son. I fear he now rides to his death for it is surely a trap.”
To three mystified faces Alexandra spoke what seemed to her appropriate, “Indeed, it appears he’s about to meet his Waterloo.”
Hide in Time ~ Anna Faversham
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Saddle Holly fast, Billy, and bring her to the front gates. And wrap up or sooty her white socks.”
“Not planning on being seen, then? Not side-saddle either?”
Alexandra, already racing back to the house, turned and shook her head. There ought to be a way of shouting and whispering at the same time, she thought. Martha could find a word for it – shispering, perhaps? No time for such frivolities, she chided herself.
In less than ten minutes she appeared at the gates dressed in black. Long black leather boots, her old, cropped trousers, a riding jacket, and her hair gathered under a hat rammed down as far as her ears allowed. Tucked in her pocket was a black scarf and under her arm she had her riding whip – the very picture of a highwayman.
Whisking Billy out of sight, she questioned him. “Has Jack gone?”
“A while ago, now Miss. You’re not trying to follow that lunatic are you?”
“I am. Where’s the King’s Arms?”
“King’s Arms?” Billy followed this with a range of vocabulary last spoken in an Army barracks. Spluttering a little more he added, “Beg pardon, Miss, but you’ve got to be joking. No way can you go in there.”
“I must, Billy. Jack’s walking into a trap.”
“Well now, there’s a surprise. I shouldn’t wonder if the whole town hasn’t ganged up on him by now.” He cupped his hands to help Alexandra mount.
Alexandra looked down. “Where is it, Billy?”
“Next tavern along from mine. Rough old place though and with it being nearly dark now, it’s not wise…”
She had ridden off, and he was left with shrewd words unheard, and voiced thoughts inspiring no one but himself. "You're terrific, Alexandra, terrific! For a moment I was back with the Sappers." He kicked the ground. "And you know what? I'm damned sure now that I was a Corporal, maybe even a Sergeant! At any rate, a leader of men and a guardian of justice. Terrific! That's what you are."
~
Rough was something of an understatement, Alexandra thought as she hitched Holly to a tree well away from the King’s Arms. She weighed her options for a moment before making a stealthy approach to the dark street and sidling along to a latticed window at the back. She prised it ajar. Would Adam come? Despite rescuing his brother on numerous previous
occasions there was no sign of him now. Had the family finally given up on their black sheep and left him to face his accusers? What was it that drove her to go after him? Pity? No, not that. Perhaps it was to witness his downfall or to atone for her misjudgment of Adam? One lone female? Yet she felt no fear.
Straining to sort words from background noises of merriment, she distinguished a few alarming phrases. ‘Force him to sign his paternity’, and something about ‘best done in the forest'.
She crouched down and spied through the window. A horse, hitched further up the dark alleyway, whinnied and she nearly bumped her head. Not fearful, but perhaps a little nervous. She steadied herself. Peering again, she glimpsed through the dense, smoky atmosphere ten or maybe twelve rough men lolling around a central table in a small room with an open doorway. Prostrate across the entrance was, presumably, the guard, though he was clearly the drunken sot of the bunch and snoring loudly. Worked well, she supposed. Quite clever really.
As they grabbed some pistols in response to a shout from outside, Alexandra drew back, and flattened herself against the wall away from the light of the foul-smelling tallow candles. Jack had arrived. It seemed he wasn’t so stupid as to enter the dim tavern and Alexandra could hear him issuing a challenge to ‘Alfred the Tittle’ to come out and fight. Astride his horse, he rode by the end of the alleyway and Alexandra noticed the glint of a sword. No doubt he thought the scrawny Alfred Smith was no match for a swordsman on horseback. Rather underestimated his enemy, Alexandra noted. Or had Jack brought some back-up? She edged closer and could see Jack was oblivious of the apparent casual observers and that they were part of Alfred’s gang.
"What'd he call me?" Alfred Smith got no answer from his cohorts. Shuffling his feet, neither going forwards nor backwards, he called across to Jack. “No place for a discussion between two gentlemen.”
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