“Louisa had... had arranged to elope with Captain Bladen tonight. Anastasia was to go with her to meet him, and then hurry back here. Oh, but she should have been back by now!” she ended on a rising wail.
Lady Dunford fell back in her chair, alarmingly pale. “Eloped!” she whispered. “Eloped! – What shall I ever find to say to her parents? Eloped!”
She showed signs of rising hysteria, and one or two people nearest to them were looking curiously across.
“Lady Dunford! You must not give way to distress here,” said Lord Silverfield firmly. “It will not help us in the least! Besides, it may not be too late.”
She looked at him with faint hopefulness. “Not too late?”
“Obviously something has gone wrong, since Anastasia hasn’t returned. Perhaps Captain Bladen was delayed, and they have been waiting for him. I may still be in time to stop them.”
Lady Dunford sat up a little straighter. “Go then immediately, I beg of you, and see if perhaps they are still there ..... Do but hurry and see!”
“Certainly: but first I will send for my curricle — if they have gone I will try and overtake them, and return Miss Derwent to you.”
He was back in a very few minutes. “I will go now, if Miss Dunford will direct me.”
“I will come with you,” said Robin, casting such a stern look of reproach at Georgy that she burst into sobs.
“Do hush, Georgiana!” directed her Mama, “And tell them where to look!”
She flustered out directions, and they made their way out together with a casual air. But once out of sight of the crowd they broke into a run.
Lady Dunford and Georgiana endeavoured to compose themselves.
“How could you, Georgiana? You do not know what this has done to my nerves! And we will have Mrs Carstares back on us in a trice — what am I to say to her?”
“I am so very sorry, Mama ... I did not think – that is — it seemed just like an exciting adventure when we were planning it, but we did not think what would happen afterwards. Oh, Mama, Robin gave me such a look! I am sure he will never forgive me!”
“Oh – nonsense!” said Lady Dunford with some asperity. “You will have him apologising to you if I know anything of you! Hush! — here comes that odious Sir Montagu!”
It was indeed Sir Montagu, smiling agreeably. “I had hoped to have the pleasure of a dance with your niece. Lady Dunford, but I do not see her this evening. Do not tell me she is indisposed?”
Lady Dunford rallied gamely. “No indeed, Sir. But she had the misfortune to catch the flounce of her dress, and is gone with Louisa to pin it up.”
“A sad mishap. But perhaps Miss Dunford would honour me with a dance?”
Georgy looked flustered. The very last thing she wanted to do at the moment was to leave her Mama’s side, and especially with Sir Montagu.
“No! – that is,” she added hurriedly, “I have sprained my ankle, a little, and do not mean to dance at all tonight.”
He assumed an expression of deep concern. “Not a bad sprain, I trust?”
“Oh no .... nothing a little rest will not mend.”
“Quite a little chapter of accidents!” he smiled. “Well, it seems that I am out of luck tonight, does it not? And I must leave soon to join a party of friends, so that I will miss my chance of dancing with Miss Anastasia when she returns.”
“I hope your sprain is soon mended,” he said, showed his teeth in his particularly vulpine smile, and left.
“Horrible, horrible man!” said Georgy with feeling.
* * * *
Lord Silverfield soon outstripped his companion, and when Robin, panting, arrived at the deserted gateway he found him bending over what seemed to be a body lying by the roadside.
“Oh God!-it is not…?”
“No, no – it is no-one I have ever seen before,” he replied in shaken tones, for like Robin he had at first imagined it was Anastasia lying there, still as death.
Robin came and knelt down beside him. The woman gave a moan and stirred feebly.
“She is coming round, Carstares. Someone struck her a heavy blow on the temple, see — ” He held back a lock of hair to show the mark.
The girl moved and opened her eyes. “Oh – my head!” Then, as sense returned, she sat bolt upright and stared at the empty road. “He is gone! Gone! And taken her with him!”
Lord Silverfield gripped her shoulders urgently. “Who has taken her? What has happened?”
She shrank away from him, for he seemed very big and menacing, and his expression was anything but reassuring.
She looked doubtfully at his companion, standing concernedly by, and he added his plea in gentler tones:
“Look here, we are searching for two young ladies who have gone missing. Can you help us?”
She nodded. “I saw one leave earlier .... I was hiding here, waiting for him, and I saw two girls come down to the gate, and a gentleman in a carriage took one of them away. She went willingly, and the other ran off, back up the path...”
“Louisa and Captain Bladen!” exclaimed Robin. “Was the girl who went off in the carriage blonde?”
She nodded, eyes huge in her thin, pale face.
“Never mind that: we know about Louisa!” interrupted Lord Silverfield harshly. “It is Anastasia’s whereabouts we want to know.”
Kitty began to tremble. “The other young lady ... he came back carrying her, and she did not move .... I tried to free her, and pleaded with him not to take her away and ruin her like he ruined me, but he would not listen! Then — he hit me, and I don’t remember any more!”
“Who took her away?” he demanded, livid with rage.
“Why, Sir Montagu Morley, of course!” she said in her soft country voice. “Haven’t I been telling you?”
He stood, abruptly. “But this can’t be true! I saw him myself not ten minutes ago.”
She shrank away again nervously. ‘“Deed it is, Sir! -for I overheard him plotting to do it, and he hired two men to take her away to his house beyond Hampstead. I think he means to join them there later.”
Lord Silverfield stared at her while his mind whirled. It all seemed to fit. “Damn him! We must be after her immediately. Tell me, where is this house where they have taken her?”
“I can’t say exactly where – but I could take you there, for he used to take me there before he grew tired of me, and cast me off.”
“Robin, I will go back and see if Sir Montagu is still there. If he is not I will wait for my curricle to arrive and then return here to pick up this lady. You stay here until I get back.”
“You will not do anything rash if he is there, will you?” questioned Robin anxiously.
“Not I. I mean to deal with him at my leisure – and somewhere where he will be forced for once to behave like a man!”
He turned and strode away. Robin courteously helped Kitty to rise from the dusty road, and then introduced himself.
“I am Kitty Partridge, Sir. Your friend is very fierce!” she added with a shudder. “I declare I am mortal afraid of him!”
“You need not be – it is Sir Montagu who is the one to be pitied when Lord Silverfield catches up with him!”
“He must be very fond of the young lady. Sir, to be so very angry.”
He looked surprised. “Yes ... yes, I suppose he must! I had not really thought ...”
A silence fell between them: each was busy with their thoughts. It seemed a very long time until the sound of wheels was heard, and Lord Silverfield, driving himself, drew to a halt beside them.
“Flown,” he said to Robin’s inquiry. “Less than half an hour ago. Up you come. Miss...?”
“Partridge, Sir. Kitty Partridge.”
“Well, Kitty, there’s not a moment to lose! Jump up!”
Robin helped the thin, shabby figure to climb up into the curricle.
“Let me come too, Silverfield! If he has hired a couple of bullies you will need help.”
The grim, dark face was set into
angry lines. “Not I! Besides, you forget Jem! — he may be small, but he shows to advantage in a scrap, don’t you, Jem?”
The tiger had been standing unnoticed and silent behind the curricle. He now popped his head up and grinned, gap-toothed.
“The best way to help, Carstares, is to get Lady Dunford home as quickly as may be, for she looked set for hysterics when I saw her just, and your Mama was with them.”
“Oh lord! Must I? I would much rather come with you!”
Lord Silverfield gathered up the reins. “You must. I rely on you to get them away quietly. I don’t want any talk of this getting about. Oh, and tell Lady Dunford that she will have Anastasia back with her this night, safe and sound!”
“But Louisa!” remembered Robin suddenly. “What about Louisa?”
But the curricle was moving off. “Damn Louisa!” said his Lordship, and he was gone, Kitty clinging to the sides of the seat for dear life.
Robin’s shoulders slumped and he turned reluctant feet back towards his responsibilities.
Chapter Twenty-five
Sir Montagu overtook the coach containing his captive long before it reached the turning to the remote and ramshackle house he had once won at gaming, and which had proved useful to him on more than one occasion.
It looked deserted enough, but closer to it a light could be observed in a lower window, and as they drew up his valet appeared on the steps with a lantern.
Sir Montagu dismounted and unlocked the door of the berline. With the valet’s assistance he dragged Anastasia out, half-conscious, and into the house.
Revived a little by the cold night air, she tried to struggle, only half-aware of what was happening. Her head was ringing and she was unable to draw a deep breath because of the handkerchief gagging her.
They dropped her into a chair, and Sir Montagu went out to pay off the men. After a while they could be heard driving off, and he came back into the room and eyed his limp captive with satisfaction.
“That will be all, Jensen,” he said to the valet. “Go and take my horse round, will you, and see to it. I shall not want you again tonight!”
The man retired, unmoved by this request. He was of a villainous character, suited to be the servant of such a man as Sir Montagu, and felt no stir of compassion for the girl now in his master’s power.
Sir Montagu locked the door after him and pocketed the key. Then he untied Anastasia.
She groaned as the circulation returned to her hands and put up a shaking hand to her head.
Opening unfocused green eyes, she found the hated Sir Montagu offering her a glass of wine. Her mouth felt as if it had been filled with sand; she took the glass automatically and drank the contents down.
“I am sorry to have had to use you in such a way. Miss Derwent, but I am afraid you left me little choice!”
The wine helped to clear her head. She sat upright in alarm and for the first time took in the details about her.
The room was a shabby, threadbare apartment, but the table was set with food and wine, and a small fire in the hearth was lit against the dampness.
She turned puzzled eyes back to her captor. “I don’t understand .... where am I?”
Then her memory returned with a rush. Louisa eloping . . . herself turning to wave to them . . . then – blackness.
She stared accusingly at him. “You hit me!”
“Dear lady, I could not have abducted you so easily, otherwise!”
Her eyes widened. She sprang to her feet and clutched the edge of the table with unsteady fingers.
“Abducted! Surely, Sir, you jest! You cannot hope to get away with this .....”
“Come, you are feeling better! Have a little more wine.”
“Don’t you come near me!” cried Anastasia, alarmed by his approach, “Or I will scream!”
“Scream away! Nobody will hear you. I must tell you, my dear Anastasia — I may call you Anastasia, may I not, since we are so soon to be married? — that we are far, far away from anyone who would hear you screaming. But do scream if you want to!”
“Soon to be married! You delude yourself if you think I could ever consent to marry you!”
The contempt in her voice stung him and brought an ugly look to his face. “We will see, my dear Anastasia, if you feel as sure of that in the morning!”
She whitened as comprehension hit her, and when he turned to put down his glass ran to the door and tugged at the handle. It would not move.
She turned to the long windows, but he was before her.
“Come, be sensible – agree to the marriage. It will be much better to come willingly now than be forced into it, I assure you!”
“Never!” she cried. “Never, never, never!”
“Here’s a heat!” he said admiringly. “Anger suits you.”
His intentions were clear in his eyes, and he had her in a crushing embrace before she could escape him. He evaded her attempts to rake his face with her nails.
“Little cat!” he said thickly. “I like a woman with a little fight in her!” And tried to kiss her.
She struggled desperately, but her efforts only seemed to excite him the more and he held her strongly.
“Struggle all you please, my dear – I think the contest will soon be over!” he said hoarsely, bringing his lips down on hers.
There was a crashing of glass, loud in the still room, as someone kicked in the window and sprang through.
Sir Montagu let her go and spun round. “What the . .” he began, and received a stunning right to the jaw that laid him out cold.
Tom stood over him belligerently, waiting for the slightest movement that would give him the excuse to hit him again.
“I don’t know who you are, Sir,” gasped Anastasia weakly, wiping the memory of Sir Montagu’s kiss from her mouth with her handkerchief, “but I thank you from the bottom of my heart!”
His ruddy, countryman’s face took on a deeper hue. “It weren’t nothing! Lucky I happened to be following you, that’s all - I thought you were someone else.”
He gave a slow, deep chuckle. “Lucky for you, that is!” He regarded his handiwork complacently.
“Oh, but you are hurt!” A steady stream of scarlet was running down his sleeve.
“So I am, and never felt a thing! Must have been flying glass.”
He took off his coat and rolled up his sleeve to disclose a clean, deep gash, bleeding freely.
“You must let me bind it up for you .....”
“Good evening!” interrupted a deep, familiar voice. “I trust I’m not intruding?”
“Lord Silverfield!” she cried, and without a second’s thought ran straight into his arms. He closed them tightly about her and looked down at her bent head, his dark face unreadable.
Until she was clasped safely in his arms she had not known just how afraid she had been, and she relaxed there for one blissful moment before remembering on what terms they had last parted. She drew away with a blush.
“Have you come to rescue me?”
“You do not seem to me to be in need of any rescue!” he replied, looking from the recumbent Sir Montagu to Tom.
She remembered her rescuer. “Oh Lord Silverfield, this is .... Well, I do not know his name! But I am heartily grateful to him, for he burst through the window in the bravest fashion, and laid Sir Montagu out, as you can see!”
Kitty, tired of waiting outside and wondering what was happening, crept into the room and stood like a small pale wraith on the threshold.
Tom looked at her in amazement, rubbed his eyes, and then looked again. “Kitty, is that really you?”
“Tom,” she whispered, and her face grew even paler.
Lord Silverfield, who had been regaled with Kitty’s unfortunate story on the journey, had already connected her with the young countryman who had asked for Sir Montagu’s direction.
“It seems I have unwittingly brought about a reunion,” he remarked.
Anastasia looked curiously from one to another.
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Kitty moved forward slowly and looked sombrely down at Sir Montagu.
“I hit him!” said Tom, belligerently. “I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but he was molesting this lady,” he indicated Anastasia.
“I am glad you hit him! I think I hate him more than I ever thought it possible to hate anyone. But Tom...” she put a hand to her brow, “What are you doing here? I don’t understand how you can be here!”
“I’ve been looking for you. He would not tell me where you were, so I have been following him. Tonight I followed him to Vauxhall and then wandered off ... later I saw him putting an unconscious girl into a coach and climbed up on the back of it as it went past. I thought it might be you — that is, I didn’t really stop to think!”
“You were looking for me? But why?”
“To be sure that you were happy in your choice, and in comfortable circumstances,” he said steadily.
She gave a shaky, near-hysterical laugh. “In comfortable circumstances!”
She began to sob uncontrollably. “Oh Tom, he has cast me off — and I am to bear his child!”
He looked as if he would have liked to have a second try at Sir Montagu, but instead he put his arm round the distraught girl and shushed her gently.
“There, do not cry. Kitty! Only say you will marry me, my dear, and I’ll see that you want for nothing, even though I’m not a Baronet, nor ever like to be!”
“Marry you? Why Tom – you would not want me now, like this!”
“I do. I won’t say it’s what I’d have chosen, but I’ll never reproach you for it, my dear, and the child will never know it isn’t mine by my saying!”
She clung to him, sobbing even more unrestrainedly, until Anastasia’s eyes filled in sympathy.
Lord Silverfield coughed apologetically. “I think you would like to be alone for a little while. This lady and I also have something to discuss! We will wait for you outside, for you will wish, I daresay, to travel back to Town tonight?”
“I would take that very kindly, Sir,” said Tom.
“Come, Anastasia!” And he propelled her briskly out through the shattered window into the moonlit garden.
The Other Miss Derwent Page 16