by Mary Nichols
There was a gust of laughter from one of the rooms. His lordship strode towards it, but before he reached it the door was opened and a maidservant came out carrying a tray. Georgie, who had followed, could just see a long polished table at which two men were seated over the remains of a meal. The one who faced the door was, she assumed, William Baverstock. There was a slight resemblance to Richard in the shape of the head and the well-defined brows, but there it ended. This man was thin and his features pasty, as if he never saw the sun. The other occupant of the room had his back to the door, but Georgie recognised his staccato way of speaking. ‘Heard a carriage. Must be my man and the wench.’
‘Twelve hours late. I sincerely hope, for your sake, he has done his job well.’ Mr Baverstock was clearly displeased and then he looked up and his expression changed to shocked incredulity.
His companion, noticing this, swivelled round to see Viscount Dullingham framed in the doorway and, behind him, the furious figure of Georgie. His mouth dropped open, but he recovered himself swiftly. ‘My lord, this is indeed a pleasure. When William invited me, I had no idea you were to be present too. And goodness me, Miss Paget, how delightful!’
Lord Dullingham turned to look at Georgie. She was trembling with fear - or was it rage? Knowing something of what had happened between them, he could understand if it was both. ‘My dear,’ he said softly, ‘I will deal with this.’ He looked past her to where the servant who had opened the door was hovering. ‘Show the ladies to the drawing-room,’ he said. ‘Then have rooms prepared for them.’
The servant looked at William Baverstock, who said, ‘Go on, man, you heard his lordship.’ He smiled at his uncle. ‘Sir, if you had let me know, we could have been in a fit state to receive you.’
Georgie heard his lordship growl, ‘What have you done with Gordon?’ before he closed the door.
She turned to take her aunt’s arm and together they followed the servant into a well-furnished though untidy drawing-room. There was a tray containing a teapot and a single used cup and a discarded Lady’s Magazine on one of the tables, but she decided it would be imprudent to ask the servant who the lady might be.
Half an hour later, tea and a light meal having been consumed, Jenkins reappeared to show them to their rooms. After locking her door, Georgie took off her dress and petticoat and lay down in her underclothes. Ten minutes later, despite her determination to the contrary, sheer exhaustion sent her to sleep.
She awoke very early; it was barely light enough to see; something had disturbed her, though what it was she could not have said. Everywhere was quiet, but there was no question of going back to sleep. Her thoughts were in a tumult. What was Lord Barbour doing here? Had he come as soon as the race was over or had he not completed it? If that were so, had Richard won it by default? She could not imagine Lord Barbour conceding it so easily, especially when he had had such a lead over his opponent after the incident at Baldock. Had something happened to prevent Richard finishing? If so, where was he? Where was Captain Melford? And where, oh, where was Felicity?
She got up and went to the window. Somewhere out there were the two people she loved most in the world and she wished she had second sight and could pin-point their whereabouts exactly. Her room looked down on a very extensive stable-block, which was not surprising considering the house was used as a hunting base. Her aunt’s dilapidated coach stood next to a spanking curricle - Mr Baverstock’s presumably. But it was growing light and she was anxious to be on the road; she dressed and went to wake Mrs Bertram.
Ten minutes later they went downstairs, to find Lord Dullingham already at breakfast. His riding coat had been cleaned and he looked calm and refreshed. He rose to greet them. ‘Good morning, ladies. I am afraid the new butler took to his heels last night, but please help yourself to some breakfast while I go and order the carriage, then we can be on our way. I have sent a man ahead to make sure there are fresh horses for us.’
Georgie longed to ask him what had happened the previous night, but judged that it might be considered an impertinence, and besides, everything seemed so normal. The sun was shining and the birds singing in the eaves and there was no sign of Mr Baverstock and Lord Barbour. She began to wonder if she had dreamed them.
Half an hour later they were back in the coach. Georgie, glancing up at the house as her aunt settled herself, saw a girl’s face pressed against a window on the upper floor. She looked as though she was trying to open it, but a hand appeared from behind her and pulled her back into the room.
‘I saw something - someone,’ she said to Lord Dullingham, who was giving last-minute instructions to Dawson. ‘At that window.’ She pointed. ‘A young woman.’
He stopped with his hand on the door. ‘A servant perhaps?’
‘I don’t think so. I knew there was someone else here last night - there was a tea-tray in the drawing-room - and knowing Lord Barbour as I do... Oh, my lord, supposing he has someone else here, keeping her against her will? I only caught a very quick glimpse, but...’
‘Wait here.’
He strode back into the house, but she could not sit still and wait for whatever was to come; ignoring her aunt’s protests, she hurried after him.
He bounded up the stairs, stopped outside a door and knocked. There was a little cry from inside, quickly silenced. He tried the door but it was locked. He turned and ran downstairs again, returning with a pistol in each hand. The noise as he shot the lock off the door almost deafened Georgie. The broken door swung open. A woman screamed, a man growled and sprang forward, toppling his lordship to the ground, where they struggled for possession of the second gun. But Georgie had no eyes for them; she was looking at Felicity, sitting on the bed, tears streaming down her face, a paper-white face blotched with weeping.
She ran to put her arms around her. ‘It’s all right, love. You are safe now.’ But this only made her sister cry the more. It was no good asking her what had happened; the poor girl was too distraught to speak coherently. All Georgie could do was hold her and murmur soothing words of comfort. But she did not feel as tranquil as she sounded; there was a red rage inside her which threatened to explode. Lord Barbour! And her darling sister. And they had nearly ridden away and left her there. It was too horrible to contemplate.
He was still struggling with Lord Dullingham, trading blow for blow. The bed-hangings were ripped, ornaments sent crashing, a tray which must have contained Felicity’s breakfast was overturned and broken crockery added to the hazards. William Baverstock, hearing the commotion, had arrived on the scene and stood in the doorway looking down at the men with an expression of superior disdain. Behind him, panting for breath, was her aunt.
‘Do something!’ Georgie shouted at him. ‘Do something before someone is killed.’
He smiled and picked up the unfired pistol, then touched Lord Barbour with the toe of his boot. ‘Get up, man.’
His lordship obeyed, pulling his torn jacket about him. ‘You never said he was a pugilist,’ he said, rubbing his bruised chin.
Georgie was furious. ‘Lord Barbour attacked Viscount Dullingham. Lock him up and send for a constable.’
‘Why should I do that? As I see it, my uncle fired at him without the least provocation; Lord Barbour was only defending himself. And your honour.’ The man’s cruel smile sent shivers down her spine. Could he really be related to Richard?.’
‘My honour?’ She was mystified.
‘Lord Barbour is your salvation, didn’t you know that? If you want to hold your head up in Society, that is.’
She looked at Felicity, who had stopped crying and was staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. ‘He promised he would take me to York...’ The thought of who was waiting for her in that city reduced her to tears again.
‘Oh, for pity’s sake dry your eyes, girl,’ William said impatiently as Mrs Bertram went to help his lordship. ‘I cannot abide watering-pots and you’ve got nothing to cry over. No one has hurt you, have they?’ And when she did not answer he repeated,
‘Have they? No one touched you. Tell this suspicious sister of yours your virtue is intact.’ He smiled suddenly. ‘Or as intact as it can be, all things considered.’
Felicity looked up at her sister and smiled weakly. ‘They didn’t touch me, truly they didn’t. But what am I to do? No one will believe it and there’s John...’ She stopped suddenly and her pale face became suffused with colour.
‘You are right, no one will believe it,’ Lord Barbour said. ‘But your dear sister knows the remedy.’
Georgie stared at him for several seconds while her mind whirled. That odious man had not given up his quest for her, or more accurately his quest for Rowan Park. And because his first attempt to have his way had failed he was making use of Felicity. But how had she come into his clutches? And why bring her here? He could not have anticipated Lord Dullingham’s arrival.
He must have known what she was thinking because he grinned. ‘Jem was supposed to bring you here after he had disposed of a certain encumbrance...’
‘That’s enough!’ commanded William Baverstock sharply. ‘I think you should go. You have outstayed your welcome.’
Lord Barbour looked at him as if he had gone mad. ‘What did you say?’
‘I said, take yourself off. I wonder why I ever trusted such a bumbling fool as you are. Go, while you can.’
They looked at each other for several seconds, but the pistol in Mr Baverstock’s hand decided his lordship. Uttering oaths which put all three women to the blush, he flung himself out of the room.
William looked at the two girls, the injured Viscount and Mrs Bertram, who was hovering uncertainly in the doorway, and laughed. ‘I’ll leave you all to sort yourselves out, but don’t try to leave.’ Then he too left the room.
Mrs Bertram ran to the girls, who were sitting white-faced and silent on the edge of the bed, while Lord Dullingham hauled himself to his feet and sank into a chair. He was breathing heavily and knew the struggle had not helped his heart condition. He fumbled in his pocket for the pills his doctor had given him and took one.
Georgie turned to Felicity. ‘Do you think you can tell us what happened now?’
‘I am so ashamed. I thought... I couldn’t...’
‘Lord Barbour, of all people!’ Mrs Bertram put in. ‘How could you? You knew he was dangling after your sister.’
‘Aunt Harriet!’ Georgie was shocked. ‘You surely did not think Felicity came here of her own free will?’
‘Oh, but I did!’ Felicity said. ‘He said he would make all right with you and would take me to York, but he didn’t...’ She began to weep again.
Georgie handed her a handkerchief. ‘Please, dearest, calm yourself and tell us exactly what happened, right from the beginning. You were going to elope with Captain Melford, isn’t that so?’
‘Yes, but how did you know?’
‘I guessed. Now, what was the plan? You must have had one. You did not go to Lord Barbour for help, did you?’
‘No, of course not.’ She shuddered. ‘Juliette helped me. She told her mother I had the headache so I could leave while they were all having dinner. It was the night before the race.’
‘I thought Juliette and Captain Melford...’
‘No, she looks on him as a childhood playmate. She hopes to persuade her mother to let her marry Freddie Forsythe.’
‘So you left during dinner and then what?’
‘Juliette said not to go by way of the Great North Road because it would be all at sixes and sevens with people taking their stations to watch the race and someone might recognise me. In any case all the seats were taken. I took a coach to Bedford. The coachman assured me I should still be in York by the time the race ended.’
‘All by yourself? Weren’t you frightened?’
‘Oh, yes, but once I’d left I had to go through with it and I kept thinking of John at the other end.’
‘Captain Melford was going to wait for you in York?’
‘No, he did not know I was coming. I thought once he knew I was prepared to face danger to join him he would see the right of it.’
‘You mean he did not want to marry you?’ Georgie asked incredulously.
‘Oh, yes, he wants to very much. It is simply that he thought I ought to receive Major Baverstock and reject him and then he would feel free to offer for me.’
‘Quite right too,’ their aunt put in.
‘But I couldn’t,’ she said, addressing her aunt. ‘You had told me so often I should not disappoint Georgie and I knew that once the Major stood in front of me I should go into a quake and not be able to stand against him.’
‘Oh, you foolish, foolish, girl,’ Georgie said, hugging her. ‘He is not such an ogre; he would have accepted your decision like the gentleman he is. And why could you not tell me all this?’
‘You had a fall, you remember, and I could not worry you. And then you went home to Rowan Park and I went to Richmond and it all seemed so hopeless.’
‘How did you meet Lord Barbour? He was supposed to be riding in that race.’ How long ago that seemed now, but it was only the night before last.
‘I had to change coaches in Bedford and take another one for Grantham to bring me back on to the Great North Road. It set me down at the Angel. Oh, Georgie, the town was so crowded; the race had caught everyone’s attention and there were so many people, and they had nearly all taken drink. The inn was full and they would not let me have a room. I walked down the road to the George, but that was even worse.
‘It was then I saw Lord Barbour, talking to Mr Baverstock, only I did not know it was Mr Baverstock then. I thought his lordship was going to marry you and I could trust him. I told him the whole and he asked me if I minded him confiding in his friend, Mr Baverstock. I didn’t know what to do but as he was a relative of the Major I agreed. Mr Baverstock said I could stay at his house for the night. It was not far away and there would be other guests. He said he would take me to York the next morning.
‘Only there were no other guests. They made me come up to this room, said it would be best because there would be bound to gossip if anyone saw me.’ She turned to his lordship who had been sitting quietly, listening to what was being said and trying to shake off the most appalling headache. ‘I am sorry to speak uncivilly of Mr Baverstock, my lord,’ she said. ‘But they are hand in glove in whatever it is.’
‘I know.’
‘The highwaymen,’ Georgie said suddenly. ‘Lord Barbour was expecting Jem. She stopped suddenly. ‘And your nephew?’
‘I believe so.’
‘But why?’
He smiled. ‘I believe he had a yearning to be Viscount Dullingham, or, to be exact, his wife decided she wanted to be a viscountess. It was her mother, my second wife, who put the idea into her head and as she could not have Richard she settled for the next in line. While my son and I were estranged, she knew she was on safe ground, but when Richard came home and William told her that I had hinted I might change my will back to what it was, she urged William to do something about it before it was too late. Hence the highwaymen. When they learned that I had seen my lawyer and it was already too late, Richard became the target. A fatal accident during the race seemed to be the ideal opportunity.’
He smiled again, though his lip had been split and it was a painful thing to do. ‘You foiled that, my dear. Lord Barbour thought he did not have to complete the race because his opponent was out of it and he had won by default. He hinted as much last night.’
‘But how did he persuade Lord Barbour to agree to such a thing?’
‘He didn’t need much persuading. He is in debt up to his ears at Baverstock’s bank and he needed more money to finance the race to York. My guess is that William offered to write off the debt and stand buff for the expenses.’
‘Will he try again?’ She could not sit still and got up to pace the room. ‘Perhaps he has already done so. I must find out what has happened.’
She did not care that they all looked very strangely at her. She did not care about
anything except finding the man she loved before Lord Barbour did. William Baverstock had sent him away because it had been expedient at the time to do so, but she did not believe he had really given up. And, judging by the look in Lord Dullingham’s eyes, he didn’t think so either. If Lord Barbour did William’s dirty work for him, no blame would attach to him, especially as he had witnesses to prove he had been at Missen House, with none other than Viscount Dullingham himself.
‘Will Mr Baverstock let us go?’ she asked him. ‘He won’t try and keep us here, will he?’
But he did, telling them that although he had sent Lord Barbour packing he had to give him time to show a clean pair of heels. He was, or had been, a friend, and he was a peer of the realm. He required them, very politely, to have patience for a couple of hours. Two hours! And in that time Richard could die!
‘We’ll have to stop and change the horses soon,’ John said, looking down at his friend, who lay slumped across the opposite seat, trying to sleep.
The race was won, though it had taken all of twelve hours and not the nine Richard had anticipated, and it had proved too much for his opponent, who had failed to arrive at all. There had been a day of celebration and catching up on lost sleep, but now they were on the way home. John, however, who was supposed to be responsible for the arrangements for the return journey, had neglected to send on ahead for horses to be ready and, though they had managed the first few changes, when they’d arrived at Grantham there had been none to be had, either at the Angel or the George.
‘Can’t imagine why you are in such haste,’ Richard grumbled, without opening his eyes.
‘I should have thought you would be anxious to get back yourself.’ John paused, impatient to know. ‘Have you spoken to Felicity?’
‘No.’ Richard opened his eyes and looked at his friend, guessing what had prompted the question. ‘I have not been given the opportunity.’
‘Then you must do so the minute you return.’
‘I intend to. But is it any of your business?’