by Stella Riley
‘In that case, Nemesis must have a grudge against you.’
The grin became a laugh.
‘Naturally. She’s a woman, isn’t she?’
They returned to the Market Place where Justin’s sergeant was busy organising a change of shifts. Then, just as Hugh was suggesting that he take over the task of supervision, Justin looked up to see a broad, familiar figure approaching them.
‘Oh dear,’ he murmured softly. ‘You chose the right day, Hugh. I think we’re in for another dramatic interlude.’
‘With that blacksmith fellow? I must say, you’ve some very peculiar friends. Not that he looks very friendly, does he?’
‘No,’ came the suspiciously mellow reply. ‘He doesn’t.’
Thankful Barnes circumnavigated the piles of banked-up snow and planted himself firmly in front of Justin. He said, ‘I’ve come to give you warning. Stay away from Bodicote.’
Justin smiled provokingly. If the fellow attacked him, whatever happened thereafter could only be called self-defence – which meant he wouldn’t hang for it. And removing Barnes from the picture would at least buy him some time.
‘Now why should I do that? The district is just beginning to appeal to me.’
‘Thou shalt not covet!’ declaimed the smith, fiercely.
‘Covet what? My neighbour’s wife? But you are not my neighbour, Mr Barnes – nor do you have a wife. Yet.’ The smile grew. ‘And who knows what tomorrow may bring? Life, you must know, is full of uncertainties.’
‘Not mine. On Sunday, I wed Ab —’
‘Pray lower your voice, Mr Barnes – and try to remember that a gentleman doesn’t bandy a lady’s name in public. As you see, we have an audience.’
They had indeed for Barnes’ threatening stance and rumbling tones had caught the interest of the newly-dismissed working party and they stood around in expectant groups, waiting.
‘So,’ mused Justin smoothly. ‘You are to be married. My congratulations. Your bride is entirely charming. A pearl beyond price. What is it that the Scriptures say? Ah yes. Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above — ’ He ducked as the smith’s fist drove at his jaw. ‘ – rubies. What is it, Mr Barnes? Have I said something to upset you?’
‘You flaunting demon!’ roared Barnes, storming into the attack. ‘I’ll break every bone in your body!’
The Captain sidestepped, flinging his hat and cloak at Hugh Vaughan.
‘What kind of Godly sentiment is that?’ he taunted. And sending his sword spinning into a heap of snow, closed in.
Thankful Barnes was a big man and his trade was one which built muscle. A blow like the recoil of a cannon took Justin in the stomach and sent him staggering back, gasping. Then he recovered and, as the smith surged forwards, he twisted neatly to avoid the outstretched hands and brought his own interlocked fingers smashing upwards under the heavy jaw. A murmur of approval rippled through the unashamedly partisan members of the garrison.
But Barnes had no intention of making this a fist-fight. Neither as quick nor as well-trained as his opponent, his aim was to use his advantage of weight and size in a wrestling bout and so he attempted to turn an imperfect grip into an arm-lock. Justin spun, kicked and, in the instant he found himself free, slammed his fist into the smith’s face. Barnes reeled but managed to stay on his feet.
‘Go on, sir!’ somebody yelled. ‘Bring the bugger down!’
Using every ounce of his strength, Justin hit Barnes in the stomach and managed to land a hard kick to the groin. This time the fellow slipped on the snow and went down heavily with a muffled groan.
At least half of those watching winced. The rest cheered.
‘Dirty,’ approved Archie Cole. ‘Two shillings on the Captain. Anybody?’
‘Bloody joking, ain’t you Sarge?’ retorted Trooper Potts.
Wasting no time, Justin dropped down on his opponent, one knee on his throat. Barnes roared, seized his arm and, continuing to hold it, threw him to one side. Justin grunted as pain tore at his shoulder. Then, bringing his legs in tight to his body, he slammed both feet into the smith’s ribs and gained the second of relaxation which was all he needed in order to wrench himself free. Barnes reached for him again and the two of them slithered across the snowy cobbles.
They grappled with each other for a minute or two, neither managing the get the leverage they needed.
Justin said breathlessly, ‘What part of your creed says it’s acceptable to pour your obscene sexual preferences into the ears of an innocent girl?’
‘She’s not innocent,’ growled Barnes. ‘You had her.’
‘No. I didn’t. And neither, you pathetic apology for a man, will you.’
Barnes roared and tried to spin Justin beneath him. Justin managed to prevent him doing so by ramming a fist under his jaw.
One of the troopers shouted out a ribald piece of advice. A couple of others laughed.
Justin, trying to land a blow that might provide a temporary advantage, was too busy to notice. He managed to get up on one knee and drive his elbow into Barnes’ throat before searching for one particular hold. Twisting, he succeeded in heaving the smith backwards against his body; he hooked his right arm about the thick neck and, locking his hand into the crook of his other elbow, jammed the back of his left wrist down behind Barnes’ nape. Barnes surged forward and brought up his hands to wrench free. Justin countered with a scissor-like jerk that placed sudden, sharp pressure on the windpipe. Barnes gasped and froze into wise immobility.
The men burst into expressions of noisy appreciation and, nearer at hand, Hugh Vaughan said lightly, ‘That’s a nice move. You must teach it to me some time.’
Bound up in his own thoughts, Justin scarcely heard him. He had Barnes entirely at his mercy. All he had to do in order to snap the fellow’s neck was to swivel his left wrist and deliver one hard push … but he could not quite bring himself to do it. Fortunately, there was an alternative. An alternative he did not want and one which, for the most part, he had deliberately avoided facing – but an alternative for all that. The only one.
He loosed his grip and came abruptly to his feet, leaving the smith breathing heavily on the cold ground. Then, snatching up his sword, he turned on his heel and strode wordlessly through the ranks of grinning troopers to the Castle.
*
Samuel had heard – as, indeed, had the whole town – of Captain Ambrose’s fight with Thankful Barnes and could see no point to it. His anxiety mounted with every passing day and, when Saturday arrived and still the Captain had done nothing, he made a last-ditch attempt of his own to convert Jonas. As he expected, it failed and he went upstairs to Abigail in a mood of steaming resentment that admitted only one, negative ray of satisfaction. He had not told her that Justin had promised to save her – only that he’d promised to try.
She sat in apparent contemplation of the dark blue wedding dress that she had never touched, a faint frown creasing her brow. Ever mindful of appearances, Jonas had insisted on a new gown and provided the material for it; but because Abigail would neither cut nor sew it, Alice had eventually done it for her. Now it was finished and it lay in symbolic ugliness across the foot of her bed. Abigail looked at it with no more expression than if it had been a dirty dish-cloth.
‘He won’t budge,’ said Samuel flatly. And then, giving way to his feelings, ‘I wish to God I knew what the Captain’s up to. Surely he’s had time to do something by now?’
‘Such as what?’ Abigail turned a remote gaze on him. ‘What can he do? Kill Thankful Barnes? Carry me off over his saddle-bow? Turn Jonas into a normal human being?’
‘Nothing so extravagant.’
‘What, then?’
He shrugged irritably. ‘I don’t know. Don’t you trust him?’
‘I trust him to do his best.’ I’m a soldier, Abby. When something needs to be done, I do it. ‘I know that, if there’s a way out of this, he’ll find it. But I – I’m not counting on it. Even you don’t know what he can possib
ly do – yet you expect so much.’
‘One of us has to,’ he snapped. ‘You seem to have given up.’
A quiver passed over the pale, still face and then she bent her head over her hands.
‘Yes. Can’t you see that I no longer have a choice? If I go on hoping … if I continue thinking of Justin … I only make it worse.’
‘Can it be made worse?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She looked up out of eyes that were no longer empty. ‘Yes. You have no idea. Try to understand, Sam. I have to find a way of enduring it.’
His mouth tightened.
‘And this is it? Indifference and withdrawal?’
‘Yes.’ Her voice was firm now and clear. ‘I have to close my mind to – to anything Thankful Barnes may do to my body. If I can do that, I may just manage to survive this. And if I find I can’t … well, there’s always the other way out.’
There was a long silence. Then Samuel said roughly, ‘It’s not going to come to that.’
She smiled faintly. ‘Perhaps not. At any rate, we shall know, shan’t we, tomorrow?’
The evening meal was a strained occasion that would have passed in complete silence but for Jonas. And by the time the board was cleared, even he appeared to have run out of conversation and retired moodily into his bills and ledgers. Samuel disappeared into the shop; Alice and Rachel took up their sewing; and Abigail vanished, as usual, into the fastness of her chamber.
Samuel sat staring into his candle, wondering if Justin Ambrose really had failed them and, if so, why. He had seemed so positive that – even now, with time fast running out – it was hard to accept that he would do nothing. And yet, as Abby had said, what could he do? And at the eleventh-hour, what could possibly be left?
He was drawn from his meditations by a light rapping on the door and, surprised that anyone should call so late, moved round the trestle to open it a crack.
‘Good evening,’ said Captain Ambrose, his voice disembodied in the darkness. ‘The deus ex machina has arrived. Are you going to let me in?’
Samuel jerked the door wide.
‘And about time, too! What’s the plan?’
‘The simplest one possible.’ Justin flicked his cloak back over one shoulder. ‘Where’s Jonas?’
‘In the parlour with Mother and Rachel.’
‘And Abby?’
‘Upstairs.’
‘Fetch her, will you? And point out the parlour door as you go.’
Samuel stared. ‘Jonas will have an apoplexy.’
‘That,’ came the cool reply, ‘would simplify matters no end. Come on – and don’t let Abby waste time asking questions.’
‘Much good it would do if she did,’ grumbled Samuel, leading the way into the house. ‘Can’t I come in with you? I’d love to see Jonas’ face.’
‘I daresay – but this is no time for frivolous enjoyment. Go on!’
It was Alice who looked up first to stare blankly at the tall, elegant stranger who had invaded her parlour. Then Jonas erupted violently to his feet with a strangled cry of horror and most of her questions were answered.
She said, ‘Captain Ambrose?’
He removed his hat and bowed.
‘Who else would it be?’ choked Jonas. ‘How did you get in here?’
The ghost of a smile lit the grey eyes resting almost companionably on Alice. Then, without haste, they turned to encompass Jonas and Justin said, ‘I knocked and the door was opened to me. Try and stay calm, Jonas. I know that we hold each other in total aversion but we ought to be able to manage five minutes of reasonable conversation.’
‘About what? The shameless effrontery of this intrusion?’
‘No,’ said Justin patiently. ‘I am sorry for that. But I came because I understand you to be labouring under a misapprehension about the nature of my conduct towards you sister. I’m here to correct it.’
‘Misapprehension?’ snapped Jonas. ‘When a girl spends four months creeping slyly from her home to meet a notorious libertine such as yourself, the conclusions are painfully obvious.’
‘Not when that girl is Abby.’ The crisp voice became unmistakably severe and his gaze took in Alice and Rachel. ‘She is a hopeless liar and transparently innocent. And, of all people, her family should know that better than anyone. If the truth is any use to you, we met for perhaps a couple of hours each week and we talked. Nothing more than that – and it was enough.’
Alice’s heart sank beneath a wave of shame and fear. Shame for the single instant of doubt which had prompted an unforgivable question; and fear of what depth of feeling Abby might cherish for this austerely attractive young man.
‘You’ll be telling us next that you are innocent too,’ said Rachel acidly.
‘No. What you think of me is unimportant – except, perhaps, in one detail. Contrary to what you may have read in the news-sheet, I don’t seduce virgins.’ He broke off as the door opened and then froze, looking at Abigail.
The carved pallor of her face squeezed at his heart and the lost expression in her shadowed eyes stopped the breath in his throat. Everything was suddenly changed and, jettisoning all the sensible, persuasive phrases that had been designed as much for his own protection as for hers, he cast into the void the only thing he valued and said, ‘Get your cloak, Abby. I’m taking you out of here.’
The shock of it wrenched a tiny sob from her and she would have gone to him had not Jonas prevented it by seizing her arm.
‘You are going nowhere except back to your room!’ he roared. ‘Rachel – take her upstairs and stay with her.’
‘Take your hands off her.’
Justin spoke very quietly but something in his face made Rachel sink automatically back into her chair and brought a strange chill to the air. Samuel glanced anxiously at his mother and discovered that she was watching the Captain with a thoughtful and astounding composure.
A muscle moved in Justin’s jaw.
‘I won’t tell you again, Jonas. Let her go.’
Slowly and with the utmost reluctance, Jonas relaxed and then withdrew his hold.
Justin held out a hand and, like one in a trance, Abigail crossed to his side. She leaned against him, turning her face into his shoulder and his arm closed about her.
Over her head, his steely gaze remained fixed on Jonas and he said clearly, ‘I’d hoped, for all our sakes, to avoid this. I came here prepared to allow you to insult me in whatever way you chose if, in the end, I could convince you of all the things you seem incapable of realising for yourself. But none of that matters now I’ve seen what you’ve done to her. I wouldn’t leave her here if you went down on your knees and kissed her feet. And if you try to stop her leaving with me, I shall be delighted to use violence.’
An angry tide of colour rose under Jonas’ skin but, even as he opened his mouth to frame a furious retort, his mother said, ‘One moment, Jonas. Captain …where do you intend to take her?’
‘The only place open to me, Madam. The Castle.’
‘I see.’ Alice surveyed him coolly. ‘You realise that, if you do this, she will be utterly cut off from her family? My son will never permit her to return here.’
‘Then we have finally found one point on which we can agree,’ he replied flatly. ‘Do you think I’d let her come back here to be subjected to Christ knows what? I’ve no wish to offend you, Madam – but your eldest son is an evil-minded bully. And the plain truth is that you can’t protect Abigail from him – whereas I both can and will.’
‘How?’ asked Samuel bluntly, speaking for the first time. ‘Are you going to marry her?’
‘No. There’s no need for it. Also,’ he paused, his mouth curling wryly, ‘she deserves better than me. So no, Sam. This is a temporary measure and as soon as the roads are open again, I’ll arrange matters more suitably.’ He looked at Alice. ‘I haven’t seduced Abby – and I won’t. You have my word on that. Can you accept it – and believe that I’ll take care of her? For I will, you know.’
It was a moment befor
e she replied but, finally, she said on a slight sigh, ‘Yes. I believe you will.’
‘Are you bewitched?’ shouted Jonas, unable to remain silence any longer. ‘He has debauched her person and her loyalties and you are content for her to compound her sins in his bed?’
‘Be quiet.’
He spluttered. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘And not before time.’ Alice rose purposefully to her feet. ‘I think it’s time you exercised a little of the respect that is due to me as your mother. I have borne a great deal from you, Jonas – but now you have gone far beyond what I am prepared to tolerate. You’ve become a sanctimonious and uncharitable bigot with a mean mind and no warmth whatsoever. You have turned this house into a prison and the simplicity of our religion into a penance. You have made Abigail’s life a misery and driven Sam into the dangerous intrigues of Free-born John.’ She glanced fleetingly at her younger son’s stunned face. ‘No doubt you thought me as unobservant as Jonas.’
‘No.’ A faint smile touched Samuel’s mouth. ‘I thought I was being clever.’
‘What is all this?’ demanded Jonas, recovering. ‘You scarcely know Lilburne.’
‘Wrong,’ said Samuel. ‘I’ve been working with him for over a year. And once I know Abby is safe from you and that lunatic Barnes, I intend to join him in London, as he’s repeatedly asked me to do.’
Abigail stirred at last from the shelter of Justin’s arm. She said, ‘You stayed for me? Why did you never tell me?’
‘It wasn’t the time.’ He held her gaze with his own. ‘Will you go with Captain Ambrose?’
‘I – I don’t know.’ She turned uncertainly to Justin. ‘Why are you doing this? You can’t want to be burdened with me.’
He smiled at her.
‘Don’t worry about that. It’s more important that you realise exactly what your position will be if you come. I have Will Compton’s permission for you to take up residence in the Castle – but not, in view of past events, for Samuel or your mother to visit you there.’
‘What past events?’ Jonas rose like a hound to the scent. ‘Is my entire family enmeshed in this web of deceit and corruption?’