by P. N. Elrod
“We’re going on a little trip,” she told them with a smile. “Not a long one, for children can be tiresome when traveling. You may have him back again afterwards if you like. I’ll let you know the price for him soon enough.”
“What do you want?” Elizabeth asked, her voice thin with fury. Oliver, though infuriated himself, had the presence of mind to hold tight to one of her arms to prevent her from charging into their midst and possibly getting shot.
Clarinda continued to smile unnervingly. “I judge this little man to be worth much more than ten thousand guineas to you, but that’s all I want for him. You have tomorrow to collect it together. When you’ve got it, tie a white rag to the front gate. Don’t do anything foolish like trying to follow us or calling in the magistrates or I promise you’ll not see your dear nephew again. This is a family matter. Keep it quiet and within these walls and everything will be well for him.”
When asked if she understood, Elizabeth nodded, giving Clarinda a look that should have burned a hole right through the woman’s skull. A pity that it had not.
The invaders, along with the maid, then backed their way from the house. Arthur Tyne had driven the coach up to the entry by then, and from his high perch covered the watching household with a pistol until Clarinda and the others were aboard. Summerhill climbed up with him to take the reins, and off they cantered.
Jericho, driven by anger and outrage into taking a chance, broke away from the house to follow the coach, avoiding the curving drive and making a straight-line shortcut through the grounds to reach the gates. Alas, he did not get there in time to close them and delay the party, but was at least able to report they’d turned south. Since Edmond’s house lay to the north and east, a rider could go there and fetch me back without putting Richard into additional danger. Oliver was mad to do it anyway, to find out how she’d escaped and if anyone had been hurt in the process. Thus when he arrived, he had his traveling medicine box with him, which was fortunate for poor Edmond.
Since then, Oliver had been kept busy running back and forth between Fonteyn Old Hall, Fonteyn House, and his bankers in London. The latter had been understandably curious about why he had need for such a tremendous amount of money, but turned it over to him all the same. Clarinda had calculated well; it was more than enough to set her up in royal style wherever she wanted, but not so much that it could not be readily collected together. As soon as he had it, Oliver sped home, pausing at the gates to rip away his neckcloth and tie it to the bars for the signal. Since then, Jericho and others of the household—including the now recovered and quite angry Mrs. Howard—spent the time in futile watch for any sign from Clarinda.
“I . . . I brought along help,” said Oliver.
“Who? Edmond? I thought he was still confined to bed.”
“And so he is.” Oliver now came in the room and stood aside. “This way, dear lady,” he said.
Nora swept in, arms stretching out to me, and my whole world turned right over.
We clung to each other without speaking, she giving comfort, me shamelessly taking it. I choked on some long held back tears, but she said everything would be all right, and that gentle reassurance was sufficient to keep me from breaking down. When I next looked up, I discovered Oliver and Elizabeth had tactfully departed, allowing us some privacy.
“Oliver told me all that’s happened,” she said. “I’ll do anything I can to help.”
“It’s a godsend just to have you here.’
“He’s worried about you. Said you were in quite a bad state last night.” She glanced at the hole I’d put through the wall. “It seems you still are.”
“The day’s rest took care of my body, but not the torments in my heart.”
“That’s how it’s ever been for me. I’ve seen wickedness, Jonathan, but nothing to measure to this. All that I have is at your service.”
“Bless you for it. Just looking at you gives me new hope. Between the two of us we have an army.” But an army held in abeyance, forced to near-unbearable waiting until word came from Clarinda. Damn the woman.
Seeming to sense my thoughts, Nora embraced me again, then asked if I was up to introducing her to Elizabeth.
“What?”
“Oliver just rushed me right in. I don’t want to be rude.”
There was more here than simple etiquette, I knew. She wanted to help and would begin by trying to distract me out of myself. A change of subject, a resumption of innocuous social obligations—perhaps then I wouldn’t feel the brutal, raging emptiness of guilt tearing my soul to bits. If only I’d anticipated . . . if only I’d hurried back sooner . . . if only I’d been more cautious. . . .
I glanced at my knuckles with their leftover smears of drying blood and dusting of plaster. It’s better than beating at the walls, Johnny-boy.
Swallowing back the cloying self-pity and panic, I said, “God bless you, Nora,” then went to fetch my sister and cousin.
* * *
We assumed a defiant desperation, resolutely carrying on in a nearly normal manner against the strain of the situation. I say nearly, for we were drawn tighter than a fiddle string and like to snap at the least noise, real or imagined.
Because of this shared adversity, Nora forgot about any trepidations she’d confided to me earlier over meeting Elizabeth. Both ladies took to each other, but I’d expected as much, knowing them so well; still, it was heartening to see them getting on together.
Of all things, Oliver was the one who proved to be the most shy around Nora.
“Because of what she did, don’t you know,” he said, when I went aside to ask why he was holding his distance from the group. He touched his throat with nervous fingers. “I mean, you know. All this while a chap’s not even aware of it. Doesn’t seem quite right.”
“That’s why she stopped with you. Stopped a long time ago.”
“And made me forget it. Couldn’t have me carrying that sort of stuff around in my head and not expect me to mention it to someone sooner or later. She didn’t have much choice, did she, though? Notwithstanding, I feel rather peculiar about it.”
“You should talk to her, then.”
“Well—ah—well, I’m not so sure about trying that. Besides, she already apologized about it, y’see, when I went to fetch her over here. Bringing it up again might seem ill-mannered.”
“True. Then perhaps what you need is some ordinary converse to help you see there’s more to her than what you’ve experienced in the past. I will tell you it means a great deal to Nora that, knowing what you know, you’ve still extended a welcoming friendship to her.”
“Does it?”
“This condition isolates her dreadfully. I’ve been given to understand that she’s only ever rarely found people who accept it. She was thunderstruck when I told her how many knew about my change. For her to be drawn into a circle of friends where she is free to be herself and not have to lie or influence to avoid a fear-filled reaction is a great comfort to her soul.”
“Is it, by God?” He looked at her with new eyes. “But she seems so confident with herself.”
“That’s from years of practice.” I dared not guess how many years, nor did I share this thought with him. “Just be easy with her, Oliver, as you are with me, and be her friend. She’ll ask nothing more of you, I promise.” My gaze darted significantly to his neck and he went beet red.
“Uh—ah—well, of course. Be glad to do it, Coz. If you’re sure.”
“My word on it.”
Then I jerked my head around, as did Nora, being the first to hear. Elizabeth and Oliver froze to listen and perceived it for themselves: the sound of quick footsteps in the hall without.
Jericho had stationed himself by the front gate for much of the day, keeping watch with others for Clarinda’s promised message. Sweating and breathless from his run, he burst in holding a thin oilcloth packet in one hand. No
need for him to say what it was; tied to it was a scrap of white cloth. We rushed him like thieves falling upon a treasure. This time I recognized Clarinda’s bold handwriting; it was addressed to Elizabeth, which seemed odd until I remembered that they thought me to be dead. With a great effort of will I gave it to her to open. I couldn’t have done it anyway, my hands shook too much.
She tore at it and unfolded the oilcloth. Inside was a single sheet of paper bearing but a few lines, which she read aloud:
“Come to the town of Brighthelmstone by this time tomorrow night. You’ll find the Bell to be a most agreeable place to lodge. Don’t forget to bring along your special gift.”
“No signature,” said Elizabeth. “And it’s vague enough to be no more than an innocent invitation. She’s not risking herself.”
“That’s fine for her,” grumbled Oliver. “Where the devil is Brighthelmstone?”
“A little seaside town about fifty miles south of London,” Nora told us. “I stopped there once years ago after a storm on a channel crossing drove our ship off course. I don’t remember much about it.”
“I’ll wager they know it well, especially that Summerhill rogue. Our going there will make it easy for them to make their own crossing once they get the money, unless they have us running off to some other place. Clarinda will lead us a merry dance before this is done.”
“Not to worry, she doesn’t yet know the tune is about to change.”
“Jericho,” said Elizabeth, “did you see who left this?”
He’d recovered somewhat from his run. “Only a glimpse of him, Miss. We heard a horse galloping up from the southern branch of the road and presently saw it. His rider was cloaked and muffled. As he came even with our gate, he threw down the packet, turned the horse and went back south again. He’ll be halfway to the Thames by now.”
“Damn,” I said. “I should have been there. I could have followed him, caught and questioned him.”
“And have possibly put Richard in more danger,” said my sister. “You’ll have your chance at them, little brother, when they turn up to collect their ransom. Until then we’ll do what we’re told and give them no suspicion or excuse to hurt Richard.”
I nodded, seeing the sense of it, but wanting to pound more holes in the wall. Then my heart sank as another difficulty raised itself to mind. Though I could gallop all the way to this seaside town in one night given the proper changes of horses, no delays, and a guide who knew the road, I’d still have to find safe shelter before the next sunrise. The limits of my condition chafed as they never had before. I imparted these thoughts to the others.
“Now that is dangerous,” Oliver said. “You talk like you’re going to run off on your own. I won’t hear of it. We’ve more than time enough to get there by coach if we leave right away. Elizabeth and I can look out for you during the day, and by the time you wake tomorrow night we’ll be there.”
“Besides,” Elizabeth added, “they might have people watching the roads and inn, and if you arrived openly that would put the wind up them.”
My impatience to go forth and do something was such that I was ready to offer argument against all sense. But even as I drew breath to do it, Nora touched her hand to mine.
“My coach,” she said in a gentle tone, “is completely enclosed.”
We stared at her.
“Quite sheltered from the light,” she continued, “comfortable to sleep in for the day and ready to go. Will it do?”
Oliver’s face lighted up with unchecked admiration. “Well-a-day, I should say it’s just the thing. Miss Jones, you are truly a wonder.”
“Thank you, Dr. Marling,” she said with a gracious smile.
The five of us—for Jericho insisted on coming—were ready to leave within half an hour. Along with Nora’s coach and driver, we saddled four extra riding horses, provisions for the road and, of course, the ransom money. Mrs. Howard wanted to come, too, being quite tearful about it, but after a short discussion, I convinced her she would be the best help to us by staying behind. I would not have objected to her presence, but for the fact of Nora’s and my condition. All the rest of the party were in on the secret, so there was no need to guard our speech or actions with them, but with Mrs. Howard in tow, the poor woman would certainly hear or see something she shouldn’t. I had no wish to further influence her into forgetting things.
Nor was it necessary to influence her to stay, for she accepted the inevitable with snuffling grace, and pressed into my hands a little bundle of Richard’s things: extra clothing, some chocolates wrapped in twists of paper and his toy horse. The sight of the last item near brought me to tears, too.
As for Cousin Edmond, we’d not yet said anything to him about the dark business, and didn’t plan to until it was done. He was still weak from his awful experience, and Oliver thought it better for him to learn about it after the fact, lest he lurch from his sickbed and try to interfere. He’d probably burst a blood vessel when he did find out, but we’d deal with it then, having problems enough to occupy us for the present.
We gathered together a goodly number of firearms and a store of powder and lead for the journey. England was as civilized as any country in the world, meaning we had plenty of justification to defend ourselves against the many thieves prowling outside our family circle. Oliver packed his duelers and small sword; Elizabeth and Nora each carried their muff pistols; I had my Dublin revolver and sword stick, and lent my own duelers and small sword to Jericho. Nora’s driver also had weaponry ready to hand. Any highwayman foolish enough to stop us would be in for a most disagreeable surprise.
It occurred to us that Clarinda might have arranged to waylay our party at some point along the road and simply take the money. Against such a chance, I would ride up with the driver to play the lookout, with Jericho taking my place come morning.
The journey was not an easy one for any of us, but I found it particularly difficult to endure. Once the whirl of preparation was done and we set out, I had nothing to occupy my mind except the constant worry for Richard. I was not disposed to pass the time with Nora’s driver. That dour-faced individual sat silent the whole while, speaking only to the horses. He knew his business, though, never stopping or slowing to ask direction and never expressing even a hint of an opinion about our irregular expedition. An excellent man, I thought.
He took the southern road, for all we know following the exact route of the messenger who’d brought the packet to our gates. Even at this time of night London’s streets were a snarl. He kept to the westernmost roads to avoid the bulk of the city and skirted ’round the west and south sides of St. James’s Park. He then made his way through a number of turns before finally coming onto Bridge Street and thus Westminster Bridge. The water crossing was hard, as usual; I found myself pressed into the solid barrier of the coach as it took us forward over the Thames. With a tight grip on the bench, I shut my eyes and concentrated on not vanishing and not being sick as we passed over the wide, stinking swirl.
Then we were free of it and on Bridge Street again, but only briefly, for it soon became the New Road, and we now rumbled through empty farm land. An astonishing change, that, being in a crowded noisy city one minute and in silent countryside the next. The very air was different: no smokes or night soil fumes to assault the senses, but clean and cold and heavy with moisture. It did not feel like rain, and so it proved as the hours passed and the heavens spared us further problems. Not that it was an easy road, being as rutted and muddy as any I’d known on Long island. It took some practice to balance against the irregular swaying as the coach rolled over the ruts, but I got used to it and was better able to keep my attention on the way ahead rather than on my seating.
The miles crawled ever so slowly under us. My impatience was such that more than once I had to fight down the near-irresistible urge to float up and soar ahead. Not that it would have done much good. Clarinda’s note had been cl
ear enough on the time. Even if I got to the town before dawn, nothing would be like to happen until tomorrow night. So I ground my teeth until my jaw ached, and kept my eyes open for highwaymen. None showed themselves; perhaps it was too cold even for them.
I think the others managed to sleep a little, for after a few hours the sound of voices within the coach finally ceased. It must have been lonely for Nora, being unable to escape into slumber for herself, but she made no complaint or comment when we stopped to make our first change of horses at a large inn. Elizabeth, Oliver, and Jericho climbed out to stretch themselves and take refreshment while Nora made special arrangements with the chief hostler for the care of her four matched bays.
“We should be back in a day or two,” she said, pressing enough money on him for a week’s worth of stabling. “See well to their care and you’ll have this much again on our return.” Her promise, reinforced by a piercing look that I recognized, left me in no doubt her animals would be the pets of the stable.
“How are things with you and the others?” I asked her.
“Most agreeable. Oliver’s been even more thorough in his questions about me than you were that night. Quite the inquisitor, your cousin.”
“He’s not annoyed you, I hope?”
“Not at all. I forgot how amusing he can be. There are some questions I’m sure he wants to ask, but his sense of delicacy in Elizabeth’s presence holds him back from too much frankness. He hardly need trouble himself, though, Elizabeth’s well on to him.”
“Then you’re getting on easily with her?”
“Very easily. We won’t be exchanging recipes or lace patterns or that sort of rot, but I think it likely we’ll be friends long after this crisis is past. She’s a dear, sweet girl, brave and clever. I don’t wonder that you love her so much.”