*
The sun was high in the sky when he awoke, and he immediately became conscious of his throbbing head, aching limbs, and the foul taste in his mouth. Groaning, he pressed his eyelids close together and tried to shut out the bright light coming through the unshuttered windows. After a while he forced himself to sit up, though he had to support his aching head on his hands while he struggled to remember what he had been doing and why he was in this strange room. Gradually the events of the previous day came back to him, and he groaned again. Unsteadily he looked round and saw the bellpull. Holding onto the furniture to steady himself, he dragged his way across the room and tugged at it. In a very short time a pert, plump chambermaid appeared.
'What can I do, sir?' she asked, and Jack winced at her loud voice.
'A glass of brandy, for God's sake!'
'To be sure, sir. What will you eat?'
Jack shuddered. 'I want no food.'
She curtsied and left the room, allowing the door to slam, at which Jack swore and held his head, discovering an especially tender spot at the back. He saw his coat had been laid over a chair, and realised he had slept in his other clothes. Slowly he went across to get his watch and see the time, but when he put his hand into the pocket he found, with dawning dismay, the watch was not there. By now his aching, fuddled brain was beginning to function again. He felt through all his pockets. All his money, apart from a few coins in his breeches pockets, had gone, the fifty pounds he had won the previous afternoon along with the much larger sum he had won the night before. Then he noticed a diamond ring he wore had also been taken from him, and he sat down cursing himself feebly for being such a gull.
The maid returned with the brandy, and Jack gulped it down. He felt a trifle stronger after this, and began to wonder what had happened to Isabella. Clare he dismissed from his mind after judging that by now she would have left the country, and was Edward's responsibility. What was he to do about Isabella? Should he ride on towards Dover in the hope of hearing news of her, or even meeting her, or should he return to London, confess his misdeeds, and obtain help to search for her?
He struggled into his coat and made his way cautiously downstairs.
'I have been robbed, landlord,' he announced. 'Those fellows I diced with last night, who are they? What has become of them?'
'They left soon after dawn, sir,' the landlord replied. 'They were strangers like yourself, I know not where they came from. We get many travellers on this road. But have they in truth robbed you?'
'Aye, my watch, a ring, and most of my money,' Jack replied bitterly. 'Methinks they drugged me then hit me unconscious, for I remember nought. But I have a bruise on my head, and feel uncommonly ill.'
The landlord looked disbelieving. 'You were, forgive me, sir, drinking a great deal. Could you not – ?' He paused, delicately.
'I was not that drunk, man!' Jack said, angered at the suggestion.
'No, no, of course not. I do regret such a thing should happen in my house.'
'You should keep a better check on the persons you admit.'
The innkeeper drew himself up. 'It is an open house, sir. What would you have me do? Search everyone before they leave? You were not averse to gambling with them. Mayhap you should choose your company more carefully.'
Jack shrugged, feeling too ill to pursue an unprofitable argument. He pulled out the few remaining coins he had.
'Is this enough to pay my reckoning?' he asked wearily.
The innkeeper looked at him, feeling a moment's compassion for the young man. He really did look ill.
'I cannot accept it was my fault you were robbed, sir, but I can at least forgo charging you. You will need that to continue your journey.'
Jack thought for the first time of the horse left in the smithy, and the undoubted anger he would encounter from the smith who had been forced to work late the previous night to no avail.
'I will keep enough to pay the smith,' he told the landlord, picking up some of the coins. 'Pray take the rest. It does not cover my shot, but I thank you, and will pay you the rest when next I come this way.'
Jack, assuming what dignity he could, walked across the green to face the smith, who was indeed in a raging fury at having had to work the previous evening, and then house the horse for the night.
'The landlord said you were too busy to be disturbed!' he spat at Jack. 'I can guess why! You owe me for the hay I gave it, also.'
'This is all I have. I was drugged last night and robbed, and could not return,' Jack answered, stretching the truth somewhat. 'You will have to take it.'
The smith shrugged. It was obviously no use arguing further, and so he pocketed the coins and brought out the horse. Jack knew without money he could not go further, and so he turned his horse towards London and concentrated on trying to reduce the jolting that racked his head.
*
Chapter 9
Isabella rode off quickly after leaving Jack, urging her horse to its fastest pace. She noted with relief the smithy a little further up the road, and expected Jack to catch her up before very long. She began to feel optimistic they could reach Dover before the morning packet left, and rescue Clare from her folly.
After an hour or so she began to glance back to see whether Jack was in sight, but there was no sign of him. Isabella continued, more slowly now for the sake of her horse, trying to dismiss from her mind the possibility of the dangers she might have to face alone if he did not succeed in catching up with her. But her other thoughts of Frances' betrothal to Jason she found equally gloomy, and she tried to cheer herself up remembering Lord Belvedere's many kindnesses to Clare. Never for a moment did she consider giving up the pursuit, so determined was she to achieve her plans.
At Canterbury she rode to one of the largest inns to change horses. In the yard, lit by flares on the sconces round the walls, she slipped wearily from the saddle. An ostler approached, looking past her, expecting another horse to follow.
'I need another horse,' Isabella said, 'and quickly, if you please.'
He took the reins from her hand, but did not move away.
'One horse, mistress?'
'Yes, naturally,' Isabella replied, repressing the desire to ask how he thought she could ride two.
'You travel alone?' he went on.
'I do, for the moment, but what business is it of yours, pray?'
The man looked her up and down insolently.
'It is unusual for ladies of quality to ride alone,' he sneered. 'Did you not know that?'
'However unusual it may be, that is what I am doing!' Isabella snapped. 'My cousin's horse cast a shoe, owing to the laziness of others like you, and he is delayed. Now, a horse, and quickly!'
'Oh, I don't know about that.'
'What do you mean, fellow?' Isabella, worried, angry, and by now a trifle frightened, allowed her voice to rise. 'It is your business to provide horses for travellers!'
'It may be so,' the man rejoined, 'but we do not have to supply them to every odd character that demands it.'
'Do you fear I cannot pay for it?' she asked in fury and dragged out her purse. 'Here!'
Seeing the coins, the man's demeanour became rather more respectful.
'Why, nought of the kind. But 'tis unsafe for you to ride alone.'
'I know what I am doing, and I am responsible for myself.'
'Will you not take some refreshment, and rest awhile?'
'I have been delayed too long already. I told you I need to hasten. All I require, and speedily, is a fresh horse!'
The ostler shrugged and turned away.
'If you insist, but you are doing a foolish thing.'
Isabella suppressed her anger, realising that now she had gained her point further argument would only delay her, and she stood impatiently tapping her foot on the cobbles while the man led out a fresh horse. Paying him quickly she mounted and, glad to feel the eagerness of the fresh horse beneath her, led him quickly out of the yard and away from the town. She did not notice that
two men who had been lingering near the stables while she argued with the ostler had run to their own horses and were following her at a discreet distance.
*
They remained a good way behind, keeping her in view because of the moonlight which was bathing the countryside in its soft glow. They rode silently, using the grass verges whenever possible to muffle the noise of the horses' hooves. When they had ridden about three miles out of Canterbury they quickened their pace and narrowed the gap between themselves and Isabella.
As they drew nearer she heard them and looked round anxiously. For a moment she hoped it might be Jack, but that hope died as soon as she saw two horses. She began to feel afraid and rode on, with a great effort not increasing her pace, and prayed that they were merely late travellers who would pass her by. But as they drew level they dropped their pace to hers, and rode one either side of her.
'Good evening, mistress,' one of them greeted her, and Isabella nodded, not trusting her voice to answer.
The man on her right suddenly leant over and grasped the bridle of her horse, bringing it to a halt.
'We have need of your mount,' he said quietly. 'Do not resist us, for 'twill be the worse for you an you do.'
'Release my horse at once!' Isabella ordered, anger overcoming her fear.
'That purse full of gold, we have great need of that too.'
Isabella looked from one to the other, but they stared back implacably.
'I will not! You are rogues, highwaymen, and will go to the gallows for this!'
The man holding the bridle gave a short bark of laughter.
'Cease bandying words with us, mistress, we are in haste. Where is your purse?'
Isabella looked round frantically. The road was deserted. It was very late, and she had little hope of any other travellers coming to her rescue. She dug her spur viciously into her horse's flank, hoping to startle it into breaking away from the hold on its bridle. At the same time she struck out with her whip, but the man had been ready for her. He caught her wrist as she brought her arm down, and struggle as she would, she was unable to free herself of his grasp. The other man had caught hold of her horse when it plunged and she was helpless.
'We do not relish making attacks on women, but you will force us to treat you roughly unless you obey. All we need is your money and the horse, we mean no harm to you.'
Isabella continued to struggle, and finding it increasingly difficult to hold her and also control the restive horses, he brought the thick end of his whip down on the side of Isabella's head. She sagged limply in his arms, and he glanced ruefully at his companion.
'I had to do it, Ned. Here, I'll hold the horses, you throw her over there in the ditch and she'll be found come morning. Chuck over the saddle bags too.'
'Have you killed her?'
'No, 'twas but a tap I gave her.'
He handed Isabella to his companion who had dismounted, and this one searched quickly through her pockets and baggage, found the purse, then carried her to the side of the road and dropped her down.
'Come on,' his companion urged, as he began to count the coins. 'We can do that later. Let's get away from here. We've got to get rid of the horse before 'tis missed.'
Seeing the force of this argument, the other man thrust the purse into his own pocket and remounted. Wheeling, they set off back towards Canterbury, leading Isabella's horse beside them.
Half a mile along the road they passed two men riding in the opposite direction.
'It was well we set off when we did.'
'Aye, but methinks they were suspicious. Did you see they almost stopped as though to speak?'
'We could not be recognised, the moon was behind a cloud.'
*
Comforted with this thought they rode on, but they had been correct in supposing that the other travellers had been suspicious. They had been surprised to see a led horse with a lady's saddle at that time of night.
'Methinks there is something odd going on,'
'It does seem queer, Mr Marlowe,' the other replied, and Jason nodded thoughtfully.
'Keep your eyes open for aught unusual.'
They both did so, and after a few minutes, Jason halted.
'Do you see that, Dick?' he asked, pointing with his whip.
It was a gleam of white at the side of the road. Quickly Jason dismounted and his groom took the reins while he went over to investigate. Just at that moment the cloud which had partially obscured the moon drifted away, and extra light was thrown on the scene. Jason saw a woman lying supine in the ditch, and it was the edge of a white petticoat he had seen.
He knelt quickly and felt for her heart. It was still beating.
'Tie the horses up and come and help me,' he ordered his servant and turned back to the woman. Quickly, expertly, he examined her and found no bones broken. By this time Dick had approached.
'I will carry her to Marlowe House, 'tis but a short way. Bring those bags, they must belong to her. There are no bones broken, but a great lump on her head. Those villains must have hit her, she is out cold.'
Gently he slipped his arm round her shoulders, supporting her head, and raised her into a sitting position. It was only then that the light of the moon fell on her face, and with a shock he saw he held Isabella Vaughan. Recovering himself he slipped his other arm under her knees and picked her up. The groom took her while he mounted, and then lifted her into Jason's arms where she lay with her head limp against his shoulder.
'Ride on ahead and get a fire started in the bedchamber next to mine. There is no need to rouse Mistress Grendon yet. I will see if there is need of her when I have carried the lady home.'
Nodding, the man spurred his horse and set off as fast as the pale light would allow, and Jason followed at a steady walk. When he arrived at his house Dick was waiting on the front step, and held Isabella while Jason dismounted, then took the horses round to the stables while Jason carried his burden through the wide hall and up the stairs to the bedroom prepared for her. He nodded, satisfied to see a good fire roaring in the fireplace, and briefly praised the efficiency of his servants.
Dick had turned down the bedcovers, and gently Jason laid Isabella on the bed. She was very pale, and the lump on the side of her head was large. However, the skin was not broken, and there was no blood. He smiled a little at the thought of the fury she would feel if she knew what he was doing, as he carefully removed her riding habit and boots, and confirmed there were no bones broken. Then he drew the covers over her and sat on the side of the bed considering what best to do.
She was breathing steadily, though shallowly, and her heartbeat was strong. Jason had seen enough injuries to be certain she was merely unconscious from the blow. He estimated it had been given only a few minutes before he had come across her, and she could not have been unconscious for more than half an hour. He saw no reason yet for calling in medical assistance, especially as the only doctor within reach was, in his opinion, an incapable drunken sot, with only two remedies, bleeding or purging. He was efficient at setting bones, but that was not now required, and Jason felt confident of being able to minister to the patient more effectively than the doctor. He wondered whether he ought to send a message to her parents, puzzling over what had brought her to that area, alone, at night. There was some mystery, and having considered it for a few moments, he decided that until he could send news she was better, it might be wiser not to alarm her parents unduly. Also, and he smiled in amusement, if she were up to some mischief she might be grateful to him if he refrained from sending a message until he ascertained whether that was what she desired.
At that moment Dick tapped gently on the door and came in.
'Is the young lady much hurt, sir?'
'She will do. I do not think there is much amiss. Go and fetch some soup from the kitchen. Bring it in a pan so that I can heat it up on the fire here. Also some brandy, and I could do with a bottle of wine myself. And cloths and cold water.'
The man nodded, looking in conce
rn at the still figure on the bed.
'I know where Mistress Grendon keeps her healing salve. She uses it for bruises. Mayhap that would be useful, sir?'
'Good man. Yes, and aught else you can think on. Then go to bed. I shall sit with her.'
Dick disappeared, but returned speedily with the items Jason had requested. Quietly and efficiently he placed them where Jason directed, and then departed, while Jason, a glass of wine on a table beside him, settled himself in a comfortable chair with a book he had fetched from his own bedchamber, and prepared to wait.
*
Jason had not been reading for long before Isabella stirred on the bed. He immediately laid down his book and went across to her. She was moving restlessly. He held his hand to her brow and found it hot, but at his touch she opened her eyes and stared up at him. There was no hint of recognition in them, but she groaned and raised her hand to her head.
'You were hit,' he explained gently, 'but soon you will feel better.'
'Better?' she whispered weakly. 'They are gone. I must go after them!'
'No, you must stay here,' he replied firmly, but she began to struggle up into a sitting position.
'I cannot get up? Why do I feel like this?' She groaned and sank back onto the pillows.
'Do not attempt to talk,' he ordered, and slipped his arm behind her shoulders, raising her slightly. 'Have some water,' he suggested, holding a glass to her lips. She sipped and then tears of weakness came into her eyes, and she turned away from him. Gently Jason laid her down, and she seemed to drift off into a restless sleep. He stood watching her, and after a few minutes her eyes were open again.
'Henry, you left me!'
Jason narrowed his eyes. Just who, he wondered, was Henry.
'I trusted you, but you left me,' she continued in a faraway voice. 'You were faithless. Clare, you must not go, it will be the same!'
With sudden strength she turned towards Jason as he leant over her and grasped his arm.
'I must stop them! Jack, you must help me, you are the only one!'
Gently Jason took her hands and held them in one of his, while carefully stroking her hair away from her face with the other.
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