by Joan Smith
After a short ride they came to the edge of the heath. Before them stretched the desolate waste dotted with low bushes and scrub, with an occasional tree casting a ghostly, mile-long shadow in the dim moonlight. The sickle moon far overhead looked white and cold and bathed the heath in silvery light. The heath was vacant of travelers, as far as the eye could see.
Buck exhaled a long sigh of relief. “They ain’t here. Let us go home.”
Esther spoke very reluctantly. “They wouldn’t loiter this close to town. We have to ride a little way onto the heath.”
“Josh and Meecham have gone somewhere to play whist. That’s what it is. You can see there isn’t a soul here."
“Then there’s no danger. Come on.” She dug her heels into Flame’s flank and cantered ahead, with her heart racing in fear. Buck followed, most unwillingly.
As they rode, he kept up a nervous monologue that did much to destroy any shred of confidence left to her. “There’s a small stand of trees and a hut a mile forward. If that’s where they are, they could pick us off before we ever got a look at them.”
“Be quiet, Buck. You’re making my hair stand on end.”
As they drew nearer to the stand of trees, their canter slowed to a walk. Every step was agony, as they wondered if a masked figure would dart from the trees, ordering them to stand and deliver. A slight breeze stirred the branches, causing a hundred false alarms.
When Esther noticed Buck had taken his pistol from the saddle grip, she did likewise, but it was only scant help. They were highly visible. The concealing trees allowed no sign of their quarry. Esther swore a silent oath that if she escaped alive, she would never go in search of adventure again.
As Flame took the first step into the stand of trees, Esther feared her heart would burst. It pounded like a drum in her ears, muffling more important noises. Flame disliked the darkness, too, and whinnied her displeasure. It seemed a good excuse to speak, for Esther didn’t think Joshua would actually shoot if he knew it was she. He would let her pass and hope she didn’t discover him. “Good girl, Flame,” she said loudly. Josh would recognize her mare’s name. “Good Flame.”
Buck sidled closer. His voice, when he spoke, trembled like a young girl’s at meeting her beau. “I say, so far so good.”
With white knuckles and bated breath, they passed through the dark spot and came out on the other side unharmed. Buck pulled to a halt. He gulped, and his body gave a convulsive shiver. “You may do as you like, Esther, but I ain’t going another step. I wager my hair will be gray by the time we get home—if we get home alive.”
Esther was greatly relieved at his stand. “Perhaps you’re right. This is far enough. You can see another mile ahead, and there is no sign of life. We cannot ride all the way to London.”
Yet, after so much trouble and danger, it was hard to go home no wiser than when they left. “Let us linger a while in the concealment of the trees,” was her next suggestion. “If anyone comes, we are the ones who will have the advantage.”
“I say we leave while we can.”
“Just ten minutes, Buck.”
He stared into the distance, gauging it impossible for anyone to reach the trees so soon. “Well, ten minutes, but then we leave.” He had left his watch behind but thought he could estimate ten minutes fairly accurately. Only four minutes had passed when two dark figures appeared on the horizon, pounding ventre a terre toward them.
“Let’s go!” he whispered. “We can make the edge of town before they reach us.”
It was a strong temptation, but Esther held firm. “No, we’ll go in behind the trees and wait. They’ll never see us.”
Buck didn’t want to try to outrun them alone, and went along with her. His consternation was great when the riders slowed down as they approached the trees. The men were hardly even cantering, and it seemed possible they meant to stop altogether, which posed wicked problems.
Esther peered through the concealing branches and was sure she recognized one of the mounts. The leader was certainly Joshua’s Arabian, Sheba. As he drew nearer, she recognized Joshua’s form, and her heart turned to stone. She hardly glanced at the other figure, but the outline looked like Meecham. They did not stop but continued at a leisurely pace, talking nonchalantly as they went.
“All a hum,” Meecham said. She recognized his voice at this close range and suspected he spoke of the Wrothams. “Do you suppose she did it on purpose to test me?”
Joshua laughed lightly. “God only knows. I wouldn’t put it a pace past her.”
“She knows I’m your friend. Surely she doesn’t suspect you.”
“I doubt it. She thinks me too tame for such derring-do.”
“She can’t know you very well!”
Meecham’s laugh told Esther his opinion of her and of her opinion of Joshua’s daring. It was true then, Joshua, the respectable, dignified owner of Heath Abbey, was Captain Johnnie. A highwayman, and he stood up to read the epistle in church of a Sunday. He lectured her for running an inn, while he murdered innocent men and robbed the government of ten thousand pounds, to say nothing of all his other victims.
She knew she should be furious, but her major emotion was deep, incredulous sorrow. She felt as if she had learned her father was a cutthroat pirate and her mother a lady of pleasure. Her idol, though she often argued with him, was a fiend. Nothing made sense in the world. Her eyes stung, and she realized she was fighting back tears.
Joshua and Meecham continued on, out of the wooded patch and toward town. When they were beyond earshot, Buck spoke.
“We’d best get home and tell Clifford.”
“Yes, we had best get on with it,” she said dully.
The trip that had begun as an exciting escapade had turned to tragedy, or something very much like it. They rode home in silence, each nursing unpleasant thoughts: Buck of the disgrace to his family, and Esther of Joshua’s perfidy.
Perhaps this was why he hadn’t offered for her. A wife would hamper his nighttime activities. Was he so ambitious that he’d risk his reputation, just to enlarge his land holdings? He was ideally situated to perform this masquerade. His abbey was close to the heath, and his stable held all manner of prime bloods. His reputation prevented anyone from looking in his direction after a robbery. No one thought to inquire where Mr. Ramsay had been. He often went to London, arriving home late at night. As she reviewed the past, it occurred to her that he had more than once reported the Royal Scamp’s work when he stopped at her inn or at the dower house. He always spoke in a derogatory way, but that was mere window dressing.
Now he was stepping up his foul work. For the gold robbery he required a partner, and Mr. Meecham had obligingly appeared on the scene, his credentials supported by Joshua. She wondered why Meecham didn’t stay at Heath Abbey. That would have been more convenient for them, surely. Why was he putting up at her inn? Bow Street was in the habit of snooping around the inns, the Black Knight and her own. Did Josh want an ear to the ground—was that it? It was also a good place to learn of people’s traveling plans. Josh had mentioned it himself.
As they drew near to the Lowden Arms, Buck said, “Why don’t you run in the kitchen door, and I’ll stable Flame for you, Esther.”
“Thank you. I’ll go up by the back stairs.” Her voice sounded fatigued.
“Will you come down to the office later? We must talk about this.”
“Yes, I’ll come. Don’t tell Clifford anything till I get there, Buck.”
“I didn’t intend to.”
They exchanged a questioning look, but said no more. The idea was tacitly afoot between them that they would keep Joshua’s secret. He must be stopped, of course, but perhaps they could frighten him into it by threats, without publicly shaming him.
Chapter Ten
Esther looked up and down the hall to make sure no one was watching before she darted from the staircase to her room. She unlocked the door and stepped into the chamber, breathing heavily from the night’s exertion. From the window a shaft of pale mo
onlight illuminated the shadowy rectangles of canopied bed and desk and bureau. The lighter object against the other wall was the chaise longue. She stood a moment, catching her breath.
There was an eerie feeling to the night. It clung about her, seeming to permeate the very room, the air she breathed. She almost felt as if she were being watched. As she walked toward the lamp by her bed, an arm shot out and grabbed her around the waist. A hand clamped her mouth, and she was pulled firmly against a man’s strong chest.
Captain Johnnie! was the thought that popped into her mind. Other confused ideas were there as well, reeling about with the sheer terror of the moment. He never attacked women like this before. My God, who else in her inn had he molested? Was it Meecham, a petty thief as well as a highwayman? She waited, her whole body tensed, ready to defend, not yet thinking of attack.
The man spoke in a low, menacing voice. “Don’t shout. Not a sound.” Joshua! She twisted around to confirm that it was he.
“Esther? My God, I thought you were a man! I thought you had slipped in to rob—” His hand fell from her mouth, lighting on her wrist. He loosened his grip around her waist, but did not release her. “What the devil are you doing in trousers?”
Shock and the aftermath of terror held her silent. From the circle of his arms she stared at his rugged face, each strong feature etched in the moonlight like charcoal on paper. His eyes were a sparkle of black diamond beneath his dark brows. His jaw was square and hard; his mouth, rigid in disapproval, looked cruel. She felt she had never known Joshua Ramsay. She was looking at a stranger, and a frisson trembled up her spine.
“Let me go,” she said, but her words were nearly inaudible and went unheeded.
“So you did go to the heath,” he said, in an accusing tone. “I trust you didn’t go alone.”
“B-Buck went with me.”
“That man-milliner! You might have been killed.”
“I was safe enough—till I entered my own bedchamber. What are you doing here?”
Joshua released her then. “When I saw your mount was missing from the stable, I was afraid you might have gone haring off to the heath. It was all a stunt, that Wrotham business, wasn’t it?”
She backed away from him, rapidly planning how to handle the situation. “Yes, it was a ruse; I hoped to draw Captain Johnnie out.”
An angry scowl creased his brow. “There’s more to a ruse than that. You should have had Bow Street out in force.”
“I tried to enlist Clifford’s help. He—oh, never mind.” She tossed her head and strode away. Should she reveal her dreadful knowledge? Would Joshua harm her? It seemed unreal, almost a nightmare that she should fear for her physical safety with Joshua.
When he spoke, she sensed a new menace in him. “Where were you, exactly, on the heath? You can’t have gone far. It must have been at the first stand of trees. You saw us....” The words fell like quiet thunder.
Her first intention of confronting him faded away. She couldn’t do it now, here, alone and isolated. She had planned to do it in Buck’s office, with Buck present. “No!”
“Of course you did. Why the devil didn’t you say something, let us know you were there?”
“I—I wasn’t sure it was you. Was it Meecham with you?”
“Yes, we rode out, hoping to catch Captain Johnnie as he attacked the Wrothams.”
Esther pondered this bland assertion. In the darkness, with fear still enshrouding her, and with the new feeling of danger and uncertainty that clung around Joshua, she found it hard to believe his story, but wise to pretend to. “I see,” she said.
“We thought Fletcher’s trip to London to fetch his sister might be a ruse. We hoped to catch him red-handed, but he didn’t fall for your simple trap.”
“Why don’t you wait for me in Buck’s office till I change, and we’ll talk?”
“We can talk here; it’s more private.”
This impropriety was so unlike Joshua that a new spasm of fear gripped her. She edged toward the bell cord by the chaise longue, to summon help from below if necessary. “What is there to talk about?”
“I know you’re suspicious of Meecham,” he said.
“Not without reason.”
“I had a few doubts myself, when Clifford told me about that rope in his room and the business of putting a knife in his door, and so on. In fact, I decided to follow him tonight and invited him to dinner at the Abbey to make it easier. It was nonsense. He suggested himself that the pair of us go after Johnnie.”
“He might have guessed that you suspected him. That would be a good way to divert your suspicions.”
“That’s true, but I’ve come to trust Paul. I wish you would do the same.”
Esther hardly knew whether she even trusted Joshua, let alone Meecham. His story could be true, but it could also be a tale designed to fool her. “Meecham has the knack of disarming people’s suspicions. Even Clifford believes him.” She wandered to the chaise longue and sat on the very edge of it, ready to spring if necessary or pull the bell cord. Her nerves were tensed to painful wariness.
Joshua followed her. She feared he was going to crowd on beside her, but he just crouched on one knee at her feet, and took her two small hands in his. Was that to prevent her from pulling the cord?
“Leave it alone, Esther,” he urged. “This is no business for ladies. We’ll catch Johnnie. You just prepare for my ball. I’ve had the list of guests drawn up. Perhaps you’d help my housekeeper arrange the details. Come over tomorrow morning, and we’ll begin plans. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
His voice was gentle now. He lifted her hand and drew it to his lips, where he placed a kiss on her palm. It was not the sort of romantic gesture she expected from him. He was a different man tonight. The Joshua she thought she knew would not go hounding after a highwayman. He would certainly not fall under suspicion of being Captain Johnnie. And her heart would not pound erratically at his touch.
How contrary life was. She could love him when she thought him a menace. It was the dash of spice dull Joshua needed to make him interesting. But she could not in a million years marry a man who might be a highwayman.
“I’ll let you get to bed now,” he said, rising. Before he left, he smiled, rather rakishly. “I hope my behavior tonight hasn’t given you a disgust of me. I’m not really in the habit of forcing my way into ladies’ chambers.”
“How did you get in? The door was locked.”
“Paul let me in. He has a key that opens any door. The servants told me you were in your room, but you didn’t answer when I knocked. If you weren’t here, I had planned to mount a rescue party and go after you.”
“Don’t you find it suspicious that Paul has a passe partout?”
Joshua jerked to attention and hesitated a moment before replying. “They gave it to him at Whitehall. He has to have access to many rooms for records and so on.”
“I see.” She mentally congratulated him. Very good, Joshua. You came up with a defense of your cohort more quickly than I would have thought.
“Lock this door after me.”
“Much good it will do!”
But she did lock the door and quickly scrambled out of trousers and into a gown to go below to visit Buck. Joshua had left the inn, and Meecham was nowhere about when she went into the lobby.
When she entered Buck’s office, he jumped to his feet. “I have just suffered a visit from Joshua,” he announced. His face was pink with anger or frustration. “He came ringing a peal over me for subjecting you to danger.”
“I had a word with himself myself,” she said, but didn’t go into any details. “I suppose he told you that Banbury tale about being on the heath to catch Captain Johnnie?”
“He explained why he and Meecham were there,” Buck replied, and he apparently had swallowed the story whole. “We might have known it was something of the sort. I mean, Joshua Ramsay—he’d no more hold up a coach than I would. Less—he has plenty of blunt. I’m a younger son who must fen
d for himself.”
Normally Esther would have agreed with him, but tonight Joshua had seemed different. “What do you think about Meecham? Perhaps he twigged to it that Joshua meant to follow him and knew he couldn’t go after the Wrothams, so suggested to Joshua they go together, to defuse his suspicion. Joshua admitted he did suspect Meecham.”
“I don’t give a tinker’s curse who Captain Johnnie is. Joshua ordered me to keep you from doing anything else rash. I mean to follow that order, Esther. If you plan to catch the Scamp, you must find yourself another partner. While we were away, that silly ass of a footman I left in charge turned two customers from the door. He thought we had no empty rooms, and half the top floor is empty. And here is a note from Peters. The mutton we planned to serve tomorrow didn’t arrive. How are we to feed our hungry guests? Oh, and I meant to answer these notes from London. The rooms are filling up nicely for the boxing-match weekend in May.”
Buck’s mind was obviously on inn business, and as it was pointless to accuse Joshua of being the Royal Scamp to his naive cousin, there was nothing else to discuss. But Esther wasn’t convinced Joshua had been telling the truth.
As she left the office, she noticed Officer Clifford talking to Meecham. They went into the taproom, and she went upstairs to have a few words with her aunt and Lady Gloria before retiring. To please her aunt, she mentioned speaking to Joshua and helping him with the ball.
“We’ll drive over to the Abbey tomorrow morning,” her aunt said.
“Yes, Josh suggested it.” And while she was there, she’d do a bit of snooping. If Joshua was the Royal Scamp, there might be some evidence at the Abbey. Just what that evidence might be she had no idea, but the wagonload of gold had to be somewhere. The whole wagon had been stolen, and the Abbey was the likeliest spot to hide it.
After breakfast the next morning Lady Brown suggested they call the carriage to go to the Abbey, but Esther wanted to get into Joshua’s stables and declared she was dying for a ride. Her aunt drove; Esther rode beside her and took her own mount to the stable. She looked down the box stalls and counted three mounts dark enough to look black at night.