by Rebecca King
Colin squinted at her for a moment. ‘Yes, I think that might be best,’ he murmured thoughtfully before pursing his lips. ‘It would be better if I come and dine with you.’
‘No!’ Clarissa coughed to hide her dismay. ‘You would be no safer than I am. I know you are a vicar but if you use your carriage at night you are in just as much danger as the rest of us. No, I won’t hear of it. We will have to forego the dinners and that is the end of it.’
‘Might I remind you that I am your father? It isn’t for you to tell me what to do. Moreover, it isn’t for you to call me by my Christian name,’ Colin snapped.
Now that she was in the safety of the carriage, Clarissa glared at him. ‘The highwaymen do not have any respect for anybody. There is no reason to suspect that they would let you go when they have killed so many others. None of us are safe. This is going to be our last journey, Colin. I don’t care what you think.’ She leaned back in the seat and tapped the roof of the carriage, giving Frederick the signal to leave, before reluctantly looking at her incensed father again. ‘I will write soon.’
The carriage jolted and rumbled down the driveway of the large vicarage before Colin could reply. Clarissa settled back in the seat and glanced at the silent woman seated opposite. For several moments, neither woman spoke.
‘He doesn’t seem happy with the arrangement,’ Rosamund murmured eventually.
Clarissa studied the houses sliding slowly past the window absently. ‘I don’t care what he wants. I know that I am being awful for criticising him so readily as soon as his back is turned but he is annoying,’ Clarissa huffed. ‘Aunt Bessie would have a conniption if I inadvertently gave him the impression that he was welcome to dine at her house. You know how much they dislike each other.’
‘Why do you think your aunt asked me to accompany you? She knows that your father has been pressuring you to return to him for years. She also knows that your father and you fight a lot.’
Clarissa wrinkled her nose up. ‘She sent you as peacemaker.’ It wasn’t a question.
‘No, she sent me to get you out of the house if your father tried to do something rash like force you to stay. I am employed by your Aunt Bessie, remember. Your father may feel able to order you about, but I am not under his instruction. He cannot force me to stay.’ Rosamund stared at her gloves in her lap as she spoke and made it impossible for Clarissa to be able to read her thoughts, but there was a hint of annoyance in her voice that warned Clarissa that her aunt’s companion didn’t like Colin either.
‘They are still arguing, and they are brother and sister. I don’t doubt my discord with my father will keep us apart forevermore as well,’ Clarissa sighed. ‘I just wish he wasn’t so, so-’
‘Arrogant? Belligerent? Scornful of your aunt?’ Rosamund suggested helpfully.
‘All of the above,’ Clarissa sighed.
‘Are you sorry?’
‘That I don’t live with him? No. How could I be? He wanted me to be him, basically, and I can’t. The clergy is his calling not mine,’ Clarissa snorted.
‘He wants you to go to London and stay with your Aunt Carlotta,’ Rosamund informed her quietly several miles later.
‘I don’t care what he wants. I am not going to go. Aunt Carlotta is his favourite because they are so alike. Besides, Aunt Carlotta has married well. Father likes her because he is an indulgent snob who wants to be connected to a Lord. He would like nothing more than to marry me off to some titled fop so he can lord it over his parishioners, but I refuse to be sold off like chattel.’ Clarissa shuddered dramatically and made Rosamund smile.
‘It’s hard to believe that there is danger lurking nearby, isn’t it?’ Rosamund murmured absently as she studied the darkness outside of the window. ‘The countryside looks so serene even at night.’
‘It does indeed, but the highwaymen are out there somewhere.’ Clarissa studied the landscape. Something nagged at her, a hint of forewarning maybe. Whatever it was remained undefinable as she studied the dark shapes of houses, trees, and miles of empty fields slide past the window.
‘Hold on,’ Frederick called a mile or so later.
‘Do you think that staying on the back roads is wise?’ Rosamund asked with a frown of concern when the carriage turned away from a village. ‘I mean, everyone knows about the highwaymen robbing people on the Great North Road. People are doing everything possible to avoid having to go anywhere near the road, but with everyone now using the country lanes, surely the highwaymen will turn their attention to the lanes as well.’
‘I suppose so although the robberies have only been carried out on the Great North Road. Hopefully, we can complete this journey before they start to look further afield,’ Clarissa muttered. ‘I am still pleased that we have that aboard tonight, though.’
They both looked at the dark outline of the gun resting against the seat beside Rosamund, who shuddered at the sight of it and quickly looked away.
‘I am not going to try to use the thing,’ she snorted disparagingly.
‘I don’t intend for you to need to,’ Clarissa replied unconcernedly. ‘I hope and pray that we won’t get stopped.’
‘Keep an eye out,’ Frederick called suddenly.
Clarissa slid the window down so she could peer up at him. ‘Why? What’s wrong?’
‘We are nearing the Great North Road. While we aren’t going to use it, we are close enough to see it. They might be around here somewhere,’ Frederick warned.
Over the next several miles, the carriage’s speed varied depending on how straight the road was and how much of the road ahead Frederick could see. At times, the two huge bay horses pulling the carriage raced through the countryside at breakneck speed before slowing down to a more sedate pace when the road became winding.
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Rosamund cried in alarm when the carriage suddenly rumbled to a stop.
Clarissa lowered the window to peer warily up at Frederick. She huffed an impatient sigh when she saw him grinning down at her.
‘We are all safe right now, miss, but which route do you want me to take? Do we risk cutting across the Great North Road and taking the shorter route home, or do we keep taking the back roads which will make the journey longer?’
‘How long will it be before we get home if we take the back roads?’ Clarissa asked.
‘About an hour,’ Frederick warned. ‘It will mean that we are travelling at night for half an hour longer than we ought to.’
‘But we will be avoiding the Great North Road.’
‘I don’t want to be out on the streets any longer than we absolutely have to be. Which route will keep us close to villages?’ Rosamund asked.
‘The one that cuts across the Great North Road,’ Frederick replied. ‘We will have about a two mile stretch of road that is pretty straight that we can drive down at speed. It will be hard for the highwaymen to catch us even armed. It will lead us to Simmerton, miss. It’s the usual route we take to get home.’
‘Let’s do that,’ Clarissa replied decisively.
‘Keep your gun at hand,’ Frederick warned. ‘You never know.’
When the carriage was once again wending its way through the countryside, Clarissa loaded the gun.
‘I hope you are as good a shot as you think you are,’ Rosamund murmured dourly as she eyed the gun in dismay.
Clarissa grinned at her. ‘I am sure I can give them a run for their money if they decide to stop us.’
Rosamund shook her head and muttered an epithet. ‘Your aunt really is wayward, but I have gotten used to her. You, however, I expected better from.’
‘Don’t scorn my wayward behaviour, Rosamund,’ Clarissa chided. ‘You are going to need me to keep you out of the highwaymen’s clutches if we do get stopped. You should be pleased that Aunt Bessie allowed me to be taught to shoot by Frederick. She always said that it might save my life one day. I mean, knowing how to elegantly hold a teacup is not going to help us if we get stopped by the highwaymen, is it?’
‘You don’t have to,’ Clarissa warned with an offhand shrug. ‘I will.’
‘Do you really think you can shoot someone?’ Rosamund asked several moments later.
‘I don’t intend to kill anybody. I could never do that. If I just hit them in the leg or shoulder or something, it should be enough to keep us alive and warn them away,’ Clarissa reasoned. ‘I don’t have any qualms about doing something like that because they won’t have any qualms about trying to kill us. All the other victims the highwaymen have robbed have been murdered by them, don’t forget.’
Rosamund glared worriedly out of the window and announced with no small measure of relief: ‘There are lights up ahead.’
‘That will be Simmerton.’ Clarissa threw her a delighted smile and craned her neck to see out of the window, but all she could see on her side was the impenetrable blackness of the countryside. Sliding across the seat, she peered out of the opposite window and immediately saw the dark shapes of the cluster of buildings that made up the large village of Simmerton.
‘We are nearly there.’ Rosamund smiled excitedly.
‘Don’t count your chickens yet. We aren’t safe until we get home,’ Clarissa warned.
Frederick sped the coach up again, making it sway alarmingly. Clarissa had no choice but to hang on to the straps while she tried to keep her seat, but she didn’t mind being jostled about because it meant that their journey was going to be over that much sooner.
Aware that the carriage had a good couple of miles of straight road ahead of it, Clarissa suddenly had an overwhelming need to savour the air.
‘Miss! Sit down!’ Rosamund cried when Clarissa slid the window down and stuck her head outside.
Clarissa ignored her, closed her eyes and savoured the sharp sting of the cold night air against her cheeks. The wind tore at her hair, yanking pins out of her curls and tossing them into the darkness. She shook her long tresses free and allowed the wind to tease the silky strands into chaotic abandon. It was the wildest, most carefree, and undoubtedly the most hedonistic thing she had ever experienced in her life but was wonderful.
‘Clarissa, you are shameless,’ Rosamund chided but without heat.
‘Try it. It is wonderful,’ Clarissa called, unsure if Rosamund could hear her through the rushing wind and rumbling of the wheels.
‘I couldn’t.’ Rosamund shook her head while seriously contemplating it.
Clarissa grinned challengingly at her. ‘Go on. I dare you.’
Rosamund muttered something like, ‘your aunt would have a fit’, but gleefully lowered the window and pushed her head outside. Clarissa grinned at her back before shoving her head out of the window again, this time with Rosamund leaning out of the other window.
‘My God, that’s cold,’ Rosamund called.
‘It makes you feel alive,’ Clarissa replied. ‘Doesn’t it feel wonderful?’
‘We are going to look a fright when we reach home.’ But it did indeed feel wonderful. So much so, Rosamund couldn’t resist shaking her head to help her hair break free of its pins as well.
Clarissa closed her eyes and savoured the fresh scent of the wind which was tinged ever so slightly with the scent of grass, soil, and freedom. It was made even more splendid because it was unfettered by social strictures, gossip, or watchful eyes. It was tempered only by the chill of the night air, which nipped at her cheeks and stung her nose to the point that Clarissa sniffed inelegantly and contemplated whether to fetch her shawl. Before she could reach back to the seat for it, the carriage began to slow down. They had reached the outskirts of the village.
‘Well, we got here safely,’ Clarissa announced as she watched the first of the houses glide past.
‘It won’t be long now,’ Rosamund murmured, resuming her seat. She began to tidy her hair but without any pins it was difficult to do anything more than tuck it into the back of her shawl. ‘They haven’t ever attacked anybody in a village before, have they?’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ Clarissa replied. However, didn’t remind Rosamund that they had yet to travel the country lane between Simmerton and home.
‘Stand and deliver!’
Clarissa gaped at the darkness. Thankfully, there was no gunfire, but she could hear Frederick cursing fluidly. She temporarily forgot about the wild tangle of her unkempt hair and slid the window down on Rosamund’s side of the carriage to peer outside. Before she even reached the window, she saw a group of men on horseback riding alongside them. Every rider had their guns pointed at Frederick.
‘Do as they tell you,’ Clarissa ordered Rosamund quietly while surreptitiously reaching for the gun.
‘What do we do?’ Rosamund hissed. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘Sit still. Stay calm. Try not to panic,’ Clarissa muttered. She hurriedly covered the gun with her shawl and slid it onto the floor beneath her feet before throwing a knowing look at Rosamund.
‘Ya!’ Rather than slow down, Frederick whipped the horses to go faster. He knew that the narrow lanes running into the centre of the village would stop the highwaymen from being able to ride alongside the carriage. He had to try to escape the highwaymen while they were forced to stay at the back of the carriage.
‘Don’t risk being killed,’ Clarissa yelled at him.
‘Can you get any of them?’ Frederick asked, crouching low over the reins when the first of the shots rang out.
Rather than answer, Clarissa picked up the gun and slid the window down to peer outside. Beside the carriage, one of the highwaymen was cantering along, trying to take aim at Frederick. Clarissa pointed the shotgun at him. The man saw her and immediately steered his horse away.
‘What do we do?’ Rosamund cried, wringing her hands in dismay.
‘Get down Frederick!’ Clarissa cried when she heard the highwaymen shoot at them. She wasn’t sure if Frederick could hear her over the noise of the wheels so poked her head out of the window again to peer up at him. She looked around but couldn’t see the highwaymen. ‘Are they following still?’
‘Yes, miss. They are right behind us. I am trying to think of what to do for the best. Because we didn’t stop, they are going to be waiting for us on the other side of the village. These horses might be able to outrun them but only until we reach a bend in the road. If we go home, they might follow us. They can cut across the fields and intercept us. Did you see the guns on them?’
With no sign of the highwaymen in the village, Frederick slowed the carriage down and turned in his seat to look at Clarissa. ‘What do we do?’ he asked quietly as the horses walked steadily through the village streets.
‘They know I am armed. One of them saw me,’ Clarissa replied.
‘Do we stay in the village?’
‘We don’t know where they might be hiding once we leave the village,’ Clarissa replied. ‘Leaving the village at all is going to be risky.’
‘But we cannot stay here all night,’ Rosamund cried.
Frederick shook his head. ‘The tavern is going to be closed for the night.’
‘Can’t we just call in there anyway?’ Rosamund asked.
‘We will have to put ourselves in a stable yard, miss. The highwaymen can still rob us because we will be boxed in,’ Frederick warned.
‘What do we do?’ Rosamund cried tearfully.
Frederick’s face was grim as he nodded at Clarissa’s neck. ‘Get that necklace out of sight, and anything else that might be of value. Put everything in your bodice or something. Make sure that your bags are away as well. Let them get nothing.’
Clarissa quickly removed her necklace and bracelet and shoved them into the side of her boot while Rosamund did the same. When they had finished, Clarissa straightened her skirt and poked her head out of the window again only
to find Frederick staring steadily down the road. His gaze was so intent it was obvious that he was looking at someone and wasn’t just lost in thought.
‘What is it?’
When he didn’t answer, Clarissa leaned a little further out of the window to see for herself. Her stomach dropped to her toes when she saw the group of highwaymen blocking the road ahead. She looked behind them and cursed when she saw four more men blocking the road behind as well. They were well and truly at the mercy of the highwaymen.
CHAPTER THREE
‘God, they are stopping us in the middle of the village,’ Rosamund gasped, clearly outraged.
‘Can we turn around?’ Clarissa called even though she knew what Frederick was going to say.
‘We are stuck, and the bastards know it.’ Frederick slowly lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. His heart pounded because he knew that practically every other coachman the highwaymen had stopped had been murdered in cold blood. It was going to be a miracle if he lived to see dawn. All sorts of emotions surged through him and mixed with a bitter regret that made him pray for the ability to live another day so he could correct all the mistakes he had made. ‘I am sorry, miss.’
‘It isn’t your fault, Frederick,’ Clarissa replied firmly as she glared at the highwaymen. She leant out of the window a little further so that her voice met only Frederick’s ears. ‘Don’t do anything to prompt them into shooting you.’
‘I don’t intend to, miss,’ Frederick muttered.
‘Stand and deliver!’
‘Yes, we heard you,’ Clarissa snapped. She glared angrily at the leader of the group when he began to amble slowly toward the carriage.
‘What are you doing?’ Frederick hissed.
‘Leave this to me,’ Clarissa muttered firmly before retreating into the carriage.
‘What do you plan to do, miss?’ Frederick demanded in alarm.
‘Stand and deliver!’
‘Yes, we heard you the first time, and the second, and the third,’ Clarissa snapped when the highwaymen’s leader reached the side of the carriage. She glared hatefully at him and demanded in an imperious voice: ‘What do you want? I don’t have any valuables or money on me on account of having already heard of your exploits. Only a damned fool carries anything of value while you are still on the loose.’