by Mary Nichols
‘There should be runners in every town and on the roads,’ Jonathan put in. ‘A national force. It is hardly possible to travel abroad in one’s own coach without being held up by highwaymen.’
‘I have heard my father say it is the common practice to have two purses,’ she said. ‘One with little in it to hand over when stopped and the other containing one’s real valuables to be well hid.’
‘I have heard that, too,’ Alex said. ‘But so, I think, have the robbers and if they suspect anything has been withheld they rip everything out of the coach to find it and often manhandle the poor travellers when they try to resist. It is sometimes more expedient to hand over one’s belongings and hope the criminals will be caught with the booty still on them.’
‘Which is a rare event,’ Jonathan put in morosely. ‘And when they are apprehended and put into prison, they somehow manage to escape.’
‘You will surmise from that,’ Alex told her, smiling, ‘that my friend is even now engaged on tracking down two escaped prisoners. They held up a coach and fatally wounded the coachman who dared to try to defend his passengers.’
‘They are dangerous men, then?’
‘Very dangerous.’
‘Then I hope you will take great care on your journey into Norfolk, Captain.’
He looked hard at her, but there was no irony in her tone and nothing in her expression to suggest she was roasting him and he accepted the advice on face value. ‘I shall do that, never fear.’
‘My father has devised a secret compartment in some of his coaches,’ she said. ‘It can only be found and opened if you know the way of it.’
‘Is there such a place in the carriage I have bought?’ Alex asked.
‘Yes, did I not show it to you? How remiss of me. Remind me to do so when you come to take delivery.’
Her father arrived at this point and seated himself at the table to join in the conversation which ranged from ideas for reducing crime to the latest news of John Wilkes’s controversial arrest on a charge of seditious libel and his subsequent release on the grounds that the arrest contravened his rights as a Member of Parliament.
‘Just because he is a Member of Parliament is not fit reason for him to escape punishment for wrongdoing,’ Charlotte said. ‘No one, high or low, should be above the law.’
‘Oh, I agree,’ Alex said, smiling at her vehemence. ‘But it is a free country and if a Member of Parliament cannot express an opinion without being arrested, then who can?’
‘There is a difference between opinion and sedition,’ Henry said.
‘Certainly there is.’
‘Papa, Lord Leinster and Captain Carstairs are members of the Piccadilly Gentleman’s Club,’ Charlotte told her father, changing the subject before the discussion could become heated. ‘Did you know that?’
‘I have heard the name somewhere, but there are so many clubs nowadays, it is difficult to remember them all. Remind me, my lord.’
He was jovial and wary at the same time and Alex was reminded of Jonathan’s assertion he was looking for a titled husband for his daughter. Jonathan was married already and he, as a mere sea captain, would never do. It was strange how that old rejection was still able to hurt, even when the last thing he had on his mind was courtship and marriage.
* * *
They were strolling homewards, he and Jonathan, picking their way along the muddy street when his friend mentioned Miss Gilpin again. ‘I was wrong and you were right, Alex. Miss Gilpin is not an antidote at all. On closer inspection, her skin has the bloom of good health and her eyes are particularly fine. She looks you straight in the eye when she speaks, almost as if daring you to contradict her. No doubt that is because of the hoydenish way she has been brought up without feminine influence.’
‘Is that so? No lady to advise her at all?’
‘I believe there was an elderly aunt, but she died some time ago and since then Miss Gilpin has had only her father for company, which is why she goes to the coachworks every day and he treats her like a son. No self-respecting mother or governess would have left her to fetch her own supper.’
‘Then it was as well we were on hand,’ Alex said laconically.
Jonathan was not yet ready to give up being a matchmaker and went on, ‘But with a little guidance, I am persuaded she would be perfectly acceptable in society.’
‘And what, pray, is your interest in the lady, Jon, and you a happily married man?’
‘I am thinking of you, my friend. You have all the attributes her father desires and she would make a fine marchioness, not to mention bringing a prodigious fortune with her.’
‘Then I wish you would not think of me. I am not looking for a wife. And please note, I do not intend to use my title, certainly not to capture a bride. I am plain Captain Alexander Carstairs and I’ll thank you not to forget it.’
Jonathan held up his hand in mock supplication. ‘Pax, my friend! I was roasting you. It is not like you to take offence so quickly.’
‘I have not taken offence. I simply wanted to make sure you understood.’
‘I am not at all sure I do, but never mind, I will say no more on the subject.’ He laughed suddenly. ‘I think I prefer the captain to the marquis in any event; the marquis is not so much fun. Do you go home or will you come to White’s for a hand or two?’
‘I mean to go home. I must be up betimes in the morning if I am to be at Long Acre at noon. I intend to be on my way half an hour later. I think I will take a short detour and call on my mother on the way. She may like to come with me to Norfolk. If the Piccadilly Gentlemen need me, James knows where to find me.’
‘Then I will bid you adieu.’ Jonathan hailed a chair, which was passing empty, and climbed inside. ‘Come back soon. London will be monstrous dull without you.’
And with that the chairmen picked up the handles and trotted off with him. Alex continued on his way, smiling a little, thinking of Jonathan’s teasing. He might have the attributes Henry Gilpin insisted upon, but one thing was certain: one spoilt daughter of a widowed father was more than enough. He would never fall into the same humiliating situation again. Neither would he use his title, which in no way altered the man he was.
* * *
‘It was a pleasant evening,’ Henry said as he and Charlotte journeyed home. ‘It raised several hundred pounds for the orphans and I was introduced to Sir Bertram Hambleton, who is desirous of bespeaking a travelling coach. I am assured by Lord Leinster that he is well able to pay for it, being heir to Viscount Beresford, who is rich as Croesus. I am to travel down to his estate in Oxfordshire to talk about his requirements. There may be more than one vehicle to manufacture. Shall you mind being left on your own?’
‘Of course not, Papa. You have done it before, many times, and the work will go on quite well in your absence. When shall you go?’
‘It has not been decided yet. In a week or two. Sir Bertram has business in town and I must wait until he is ready to return home. I will see the work started on the new landaulet for Mr Corton before I leave.’
‘Then it is as well we do have a new man starting tomorrow, if you are to be away.’
‘I am quite taken up with Sir Bertram,’ Henry went on, discounting the argument that he never did any of the practical work and had not done so for many years. Not that he couldn’t if he chose, he was fond of telling her. ‘He is young, twenty-four, I believe, and besides having good prospects, presents an altogether pleasant demeanour.’
‘Papa, are you thinking what I think you are? You promised not to matchmake.’
‘Oh, I am not matchmaking, child, simply pointing out his good points.’
‘And you said you would cease to call me child.’
‘I forgot,’ he said blandly.
The more her father sang the praises of the various titled bachelors with
whom he came into contact, the more determined she was to resist his efforts to marry her off. She was not ready for marriage, was not sure she ever would be if it meant surrendering her independence and giving up her part in running the business. When she fell in love would be time enough to consider that, but not before. If she fell in love. Perhaps she never would and a marriage without love was not to be borne. The matter of a title, in her eyes, was entirely irrelevant. Why, Captain Carstairs had no title, but she was convinced that he was every inch a gentleman.
Now, why had she suddenly thought of him? Was it because she had been talking to him only two hours before? Was it because of his masterly handling of the accident earlier that day? Was it his good looks and his easy manner? He had not paid her any particular attention beyond politeness and affability, no more than Viscount Leinster had and his lordship was a happily married man.
* * *
Alex rose early, intending to ride in Hyde Park before going to Gilpin’s. He would have to leave his mount behind while he was in Norfolk and he would not have the pleasure of a gallop until he returned. Besides, Pegasus needed exercise.
The animal was well named. He carried Alex’s weight easily and covered the ground almost as if he were flying. Alex loved the exhilaration and, once in the park, eschewed the usual bridleway and let him have his head. Although early, the day promised to be warm and sunny, a beautiful day for a ride. He was galloping across the rough grass towards a stand of trees when he noticed he was not the only one out early. A lady on a magnificent bay mare was galloping across the grass. She had a wonderful seat, at one with the horse, and was evidently enjoying the ride. He pulled up to watch her, wondering how long she could keep going before the animal decided he had had enough and threw her?
It was not the animal that forced her to pull up, but a horse and tumbril which suddenly appeared out of the trees as she was passing. Alex held his breath, expecting the worst, but she showed herself to be in full control of her mount. She pulled him up with a flurry of hooves and turned angrily on the man who had been driving the vehicle and who had jumped to the ground and taken hold of her bridle. She raised her crop and brought it down sharply on the man’s hand, but he did not let go. And then another ruffian appeared and came round to the other side of her and attempted to edge her and her mount towards the cart, making the mare shy. Alex decided it behoved him to intervene.
He was riding without a sword, but he always carried a pistol in a holster on his saddle and he drew it as he approached at a gallop. He dare not fire for fear of hitting her, but the arrival of a man brandishing a gun was enough for the two men; they scrambled into the cart and urged it into a gallop. It was when he turned to go back to the rider that he realised the lady was Miss Gilpin.
He dismounted and ran to where the pale-faced lady still sat on her horse, which was standing perfectly still now.
He reached out to her and she slid from the mare and into his arms. He held her while she regained her breath, which was coming in great gasps. ‘You are safe now,’ he murmured. He could feel her heart beating hard against his chest, making him realise just how frightened she had been. She wasn’t so mannish, after all. Her closeness, the way her body seemed to fit so snuggly into his, the scent of violets on her hair, was enough to send his senses reeling. It was years since he had held a woman like that and she was stirring passions in him which he had forgotten existed.
‘Thank you,’ she said when her breathing steadied and she drew away from him to look up at him. ‘I do not know what I would have done if you had not been on hand.’
He looked down into her face, uplifted to his. Her lips were slightly parted and he was inexplicably tempted to kiss her, but thrust the temptation from him. ‘I am glad that I was,’ he said, trying to control his ragged breath enough to answer her. ‘What did they want?’
‘I don’t know.’ She was calmer now, but still pale, still in his arms. Until she moved, he would not put her from him. ‘I have nothing on me worth taking, except my horse, of course. Do you suppose that was what they wanted? Amber is a valuable beast.’
‘Perhaps,’ he agreed, careful not to wonder aloud why they would bring a cart to steal a horse from someone still riding it, when it would have been easier to take it without a rider on its back. He felt sure it was the rider they were after. ‘It was foolish of you to ride out alone. Have you no escort?’
‘No. If any of the grooms come with me, they are so fearful for me, they stop me having a good gallop. Besides, at this time of day they are busy with all the other horses. I have never come to any harm.’
‘Until now,’ he said repressively.
‘I am not hurt.’
‘You might very well have been if I had not come along. I have no doubt you could command a fair sum in ransom...’
‘Ransom! Good heavens! Is that what you think?’
‘It is a possibility—more than a possibility, I should think.’ He paused, unwilling to frighten her more than she had been already, though she appeared to have recovered her poise remarkably quickly. ‘Do you feel able to ride home?’
‘Yes.’ She stepped away from him. ‘If you would be kind enough to help me mount.’
He fetched her horse and offered his cupped hands to lift her into the saddle and put her foot in the stirrup, and then mounted Pegasus, who had been patiently cropping the dry grass. ‘Let us go, then.’
‘Captain Carstairs,’ she said, gathering up her reins. ‘I would be obliged if you did not tell my father of this incident.’
They rode side by side at a gentle walk. ‘Naturally I shall say nothing if you do not wish it, but you ought to tell him about those men yourself so that he can take suitable precautions in future. I will not always be on hand to rescue you.’
‘No, I do not expect you to be. But if I tell Papa, he will have people guarding me all the time. He might even refuse to allow me to go to the works.’
‘And that is important to you?’
‘Very important, Captain. It is my life’s work.’
‘Oh, surely not. You must have other interests.’
‘Of course I do. The orphans, for one, and I enjoy gardening and reading.’
‘What do you like to read?’
‘Everything. Scientific books, books about manufacturing and new ideas...’
‘No novels? No poetry?’
She smiled. ‘Those, too. I do not think of myself as a blue stocking, Captain.’
‘Nevertheless, I want you to promise me you will not go out without an escort again.’
She looked sharply at him. ‘Why should I make promises to you, Captain Carstairs? I really cannot think why you expect me to do so.’
‘I know it is no business of mine what you do, but I should be sorry to think of you being abducted by the likes of those two. They would not treat you gently, you may be sure.’
‘How do you know so much about it?’
‘I have twice lately been engaged on kidnap cases for the Society. Desperate men do not hesitate to put an end to their victim’s life if their demands are not met, and even sometimes if they are, if they think she can identify them. I should hate that to happen to you.’
‘What was the outcome of your investigations, Captain?’ she asked. ‘Did you restore the victims to their families?’
He smiled, realising she was evading making the promise he asked for. ‘One was returned safely to her parents without the ransom being paid because the kidnappers were foiled. The other had not been abducted, but had run away to Gretna Green with a lover. I had the devil’s job to persuade her to go back home. The couple had been together for two or three days, so her father felt obliged to allow the marriage to go ahead.’
‘A happy ending, then.’
‘Who’s to know? Her father had his reasons for refusing his consent in the first place and p
erhaps he was right. Only time will tell.’
‘Are you always so cynical?’
‘Not cynical, Miss Gilpin, simply a realist.’
‘Then you do not think love lasts?’
‘I am sure genuine love does, but recognising it when it comes, that is the hard part.’
‘Oh, then you are a cynic.’
He was tired of her quizzing him, especially as she was getting very close to the bone, and decided to turn the tables. ‘Have you ever been in love, Miss Gilpin?’
‘Now that is a very personal question, but as you have been so kind as to rescue me and shown concern for my safety, I will answer you. No, I have never been in love, but I am sure I will recognise it when it comes.’
‘But you must have had many suitors.’
‘Money-grabbers, Captain, silly young fops who think my fortune will allow them to live in comfort without doing a hand’s turn to earn it. I shall not marry one of them. Papa has had to work hard to build up the business and I would not have all that wasted on a ne’er-do-well. Gilpin’s is far too important for that.’
He was silenced by this. Her father’s business meant more to her than falling in love. Jonathan had been right; she would be hard to live with if that was all she cared about. But at least she was honest. Letitia had not been honest; she had led him on, knowing she was never going to accept him. He shook the memories from him and turned back to Miss Gilpin. She was riding steadily with no sign of the fright she must have had. Foolish and hoydenish she might be, but he found himself admiring her composure, which would have done credit to a duchess. ‘Do you go home or to Long Acre?’ he asked, as they left the park and rode along Tyburn Lane.
‘Home to Piccadilly,’ she said. ‘I will slip indoors and change before joining my father for breakfast, then we will go to the Long Acre together as usual.’
They turned down beside Green Park and on to Piccadilly and thence to the mews. She pulled up as a groom came out to take her horse. Alex dismounted and held out his hands to help her down. ‘Are you recovered?’ he murmured, noticing her hands were still shaking a little.