Lord Exmouth's Intentions

by Anne Ashley

  Chapter Eleven

  Robina turned her head in the direction of the small and decidedly grubby window to see the light was fading fast. How long had she lain here like this, trussed up like a chicken? And why had she been captured and imprisoned in this disgustingly filthy attic room in the first place?

  It had all happened so quickly, too. One moment she had been ambling through that wood, minding her own business; and the next she had been accosted by two complete strangers. Before she had had time even to scream one of the men had grasped her arms and had tied them behind her back, while the other had wrapped a disgusting gag over her mouth. Then, after an evil-smelling sack had been flung over her head, she had been forced to suffer the indignity of being carried some distance across a brawny shoulder before being bundled none too gently into a cart.

  By the jolting she had been forced to endure, they had obviously travelled along very uneven tracks. The journey had seemed to take forever, but she suspected she had travelled no more than three miles, if that. Then she had been carried in the same undignified manner up two flights of stairs and had been left here tied to this bed. Frowning, she looked about her. But where was here? Where on earth was she? More importantly, why was she here?

  The sound of footsteps and voices interrupted these disturbing reflections. A moment later there was the noise of bolts being drawn back, the door swung open, and the two men who had abducted her came into the room, followed by a blowsy female whom Robina was convinced she had seen somewhere before.

  'God's teeth, Jack!' the woman exclaimed, casting the captive a look of sympathy. 'Why did you leave her tied up like this?' Depositing the tray she carried down on a wooden box beside the bed, she began to undo the rope securing the slender ankles. 'How the devil do you suppose she can escape from up here?'

  'It weren't me,' the smaller man answered testily. 'I left the tying up to yer brother.'

  The woman cast the other man, who was leaning against the wall, and looking over at the bed with a decidedly lascivious gleam in his dark eyes, an impatient glance. 'She ain't no bird, Ben. She can't fly out of the window.'

  'I weren't going to risk a pretty little morsel like that slipping through me fingers.' The leer became more pronounced. 'Don't gets the chance to 'andle such quality goods so often.'

  'You can just keep your grubby 'ands to yerself, Ben,' the woman snapped, knowing precisely in which direction her brother's thoughts were turning. 'She ain't to be harmed. We all agreed on that.'

  'Aye, and so we did,' Jack concurred, moving forward to help untie the rope binding their captive's slim wrists. 'It's the money we're after, nothing else.'

  Robina, having listened to this little discussion with interest, was able to sit up at last, and wasted no time in pulling the filthy rag from round her mouth. At least she now knew why she had been abducted. She was being held for ransom. But why had they chosen her? Was it simply a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and just happening to cross their paths? Or had she been their intended victim all along?

  She looked at each of her captors in turn. The men she felt certain she had never seen before they had snatched her from the wood, but the woman she most definitely had. She studied her intently. Like Daniel, she had a remarkable memory for faces, and it didn't take many moments before she suddenly realised precisely where she had seen her.

  'You were in the street this morning, watching the house.'

  The woman didn't attempt to deny it. 'Well, I 'ad to make sure we nabbed the right one, now didn't I, dearie? Lord Exmouth will pay right 'andsomely for your safe return, I'm thinking.'

  'And why should you suppose that he would be willing to do that?' Robina asked cautiously. Surely if their objective was to attain a sizeable ransom they would have been wiser to have tried to abduct the Dowager.

  'Don't try those little tricks on us,' the man called Jack scoffed. 'We 'appens to know that the rich lord plans to marry you.'

  So that was it! If her own position had not been so precarious, she might well have found the whole situation highly diverting. The fools had abducted the wrong female! Arabella was the one they ought to have taken, but even so, she didn't doubt for a moment that Daniel would meet these scoundrels' demands in order to attain her safe release.

  Perversely, this annoyed her more than anything else. Why should he be made to part with what may well turn out to be a considerable sum of money because of her bird-witted actions? If she had not foolishly gone wandering off by herself, she wouldn't have found herself in this predicament now. Yes, she had got herself into this situation, so it was up to her to get herself out of it, she decided. But how?

  She took a moment to glance at each of her captors in turn once again, her gaze lingering a fraction longer on the man with the lascivious glint in his deep set eyes.

  'Well, I suspect you're right,' she conceded at last, successfully controlling her rising ire. 'Providing, of course, that I come to no harm...of any description.'

  The woman at least was not slow to follow her meaning, and her full lips curled into an unpleasant smirk. 'Don't you be a'worrying none about me brother, dearie. He'll behave himself...so long as you do the same. So eat up yer food like a good girl, and we'll all leave you alone until morning.'

  Robina took one glance at the unappetising broth with its film of grease floating on the top, and decided to sample just the bread, which was at least freshly baked, if slightly heavy.

  'And what do you intend to do with me tomorrow, if it isn't asking too much?'

  'Inquisitive little thing, ain't she?' Jack remarked to no one in particular. 'You're going to write a letter to your lord, pretty lady. And if all goes well, you'll be out of 'ere, and back in your own nice bed by tomorrow night.'

  'Or in 'is lordship's,' the other man sniggered, before turning to his sister. 'I don't see why we couldn't 'ave got the thing done tonight. I told you. afore, Moll, I don't like the idea of keeping 'er 'ere.'

  'I don't see why,' Molly scoffed. 'No one ever comes 'ere n' more. And I can't say I blames 'em neither. You've let this place fall into rack and ruin, our Ben, since Betsy died.' Although not renowned for cleanliness herself, even Molly was appalled by the filthy state of the house. 'And as I've already told you, I ain't walking all that way back to town tonight. Tomorrow will do fine. Besides, his lordship might be more willing to part with 'is money, if he's been left to fret for a while.'

  Appearing quite smugly satisfied, she turned to Robina. 'Had your fill then, dearie? That's good. We'll just let Jack 'ere bind yer hands again. No need to tie yer feet, though. I don't think you'll try to escape through the window. It's a mighty long way down.'

  Robina's mind began to work rapidly as she obliged her captors by placing her hands behind her back. If she was going to effect an escape, she must make the attempt before morning. 'If—if I'm to remain incarcerated in here all night, might I not at least have a candle? It will be dark soon, and I could have sworn I saw something poke its head out of that hole in the corner earlier.'

  'Ha!' Jack barked, securing the slender wrists with a merciless disregard for any pain he might be inflicting. 'Wouldn't be at all surprised if you did! The place is overrun wi' rats.' He seemed to debate within himself for a few moments. 'Don't see why she can't 'ave a candle, though. What say you, Molly?'

  She merely shrugged before picking up the tray and carrying it from the room. Her brother, after one last ogling look in the direction of Robina's trim, shapely figure, followed, and then Jack went out, but came back a moment or two later with a lighted candle which he placed on the crate beside the small box bed. Without saying anything further, he went out again, the door closed, and Robina heard the bolts being securely slid into position.

  Well, at least she had until morning to attempt an escape, she reminded herself, determined to think positively and not become too disheartened by her present predicament. She might be wise to wait an hour or so, or until such time as she could be sure that those three scoun
drels below were asleep, which would not be too long if the odour of gin which had pervaded the room when they had entered was anything to go by. In the meantime it was only boredom with which she was forced to contend, and the pain in her wrists, where the cord rubbed against the soft flesh.

  She couldn't prevent a protracted sigh escaping, as she turned to stare at the small window once more. It had grown considerably darker since the last time she had looked across at that grime-streaked single pane of glass. What time would it be now? Nine, perhaps nearer ten, she decided, and could not help wondering what had taken place with certain other persons during her long hours of incarceration.

  The Dowager, poor darling, would be frantic with worry. They would have given up any search by now, of course; had possibly done so hours ago. It was possible that her ladyship had seen fit to inform the authorities, but it was much more likely that she would have returned to Brighton to apprise Daniel.

  He would then have taken charge of the situation in that calm and sensible way of his. No doubt he would have informed the authorities, if his mother had not, and would have arranged for a further search to take place in the wood and surrounding area at first light. In the meantime, however...

  Her eyes growing misty with tears she refused to shed, she turned her head to stare sightlessly across the dusty attic room, her mind's eye conjuring up a clear image of the library back at the house in Brighton, and of Daniel, concerned over her safety, but outwardly appearing calm and collected as always, sitting there in his favourite chair.

  It would have come as something of a surprise to Robina had she known that at that precise moment, far from comfortably ensconced in his book-lined room, Daniel, his face set rigid with barely suppressed anger, was tooling his curricle at a neck-to-nothing fashion through the streets of the town in an attempt to find a certain jarvey.

  Kendall, sitting on the seat beside him, cast his master a concerned glance. Never had he seen his lordship in such a rare taking—no, not even on that dreadful day, almost two years ago, when the master had ridden at the same neck-to-nothing pace along the hillside track not far from Courtney Place. Not that too many people had ever discovered that very important fact, though, Kendall reminded himself. Stebbings, he himself, and maybe one or two others knew the truth of what had happened that day when the late Lady Exmouth had died, but not one, as far as Kendall was aware, had ever betrayed the master's trust by disclosing what they had known.

  'My lord,' he said in some urgency, as Daniel overtook a lumbering coach with only an inch to spare, 'are you sure you don't want me to take a turn at tooling the curricle?'

  This suggestion brought a glimmer of amusement back into Daniel's eyes. 'Feeling somewhat nervous, Kendall? I thought you had more faith in my abilities. I haven't even come close to scraping the paint work, I'll have you know.'

  'It isn't that,' his trusty henchman hurriedly assured him, 'as I expect you well know, sir. It's just that I ain't being of much use to you at the moment.'

  Kendall was well aware of precisely why they were scouring the streets of Brighton at this time of night, and was as concerned as everyone else over Miss Perceval's surprising disappearance.

  'I don't know what this jarvey looks like, sir, nor what sort of carriage he drives, neither. If I were to take over the reins for a spell, it'd leave you free to look about for the cove.'

  'Thank you for the offer, Kendall, but I've already come to the conclusion that I'm on a fool's errand. It would have been wiser for me to have remained at the Crown in the hope that he might put in an appearance, or I should at least have waited for the landlord's return.' And so saying, he turned the next corner and headed back towards the tavern he had visited earlier.

  'What business do you suppose can that rascally landlord be engaged in that he must leave the running of his tavern in the 'ands of his brother?'

  Daniel slanted the head groom a mocking glance. 'What business do you suppose, man? He's undoubtedly acquiring fresh supplies of rum and brandy from a reliable source, if I know anything.'

  'Smuggled goods, you mean, sir?'

  'I wouldn't be at all surprised. There's a deal of free trading taking place all along this coast. The Preventive Officers are fighting a losing battle, and I suspect will continue to do so unless the laws are changed.'

  They had by this time arrived back at the Crown. Daniel, willingly handing over the reins to Kendall now, wasted no time in alighting and re-entering the tavern, only to discover that the landlord had not yet returned. He realised at once that little would be gained in attempting to question the brother further. The man had freely admitted earlier that he helped out at the inn only rarely, and although he did know several of the locals by sight, he didn't know their names, and so couldn't say for certain whether Master Higgins had been in the inn already that evening or not.

  Swiftly deciding that he had little option but to await the landlord's return in the hope that mine host was well acquainted with the jarvey, Daniel ordered himself a tankard of home-brewed ale, and had just carried it across to a corner table when the door opened and the very man he was intent on finding that night walked calmly into the inn.

  His first impulse was to rush across and accost the jarvey, but he checked it. Higgins just didn't have the look about him of a man who was expecting to acquire a substantial amount of money in the very near future. In fact, he looked very sombre, thoroughly dissatisfied with life. Daniel was further confounded when Higgins, waiting for his ale to be poured, looked about him, his expression registering surprise, rather than fear or uncertainty, as he glanced in Daniel's direction.

  Was it possible that he had totally misjudged Master Higgins, and that the man knew nothing of Robina's disappearance? Daniel wondered. Yes, there was just that possibility, he supposed. None the less, it seemed rather too much of a coincidence that on the very next day after Higgins had foolishly proposed abducting her, she should have disappeared, he finally decided, as he watched the jarvey come smilingly across to the table.

  'Why, my lord! I didn't expect to be seeing you here again. Got a taste for our local landlord's homebrewed, have you? Well, can't say as I can blame you. He serves a good drop of ale.'

  'He does indeed. Why don't you join me, Master Higgins?'

  The jarvey did not hesitate, which only added to the rapidly growing conviction in Daniel's mind that the man was innocent of any wrongdoing this day. But he had to be sure.

  'So, what does bring you back to our neck of the woods again, my lord?' Higgins enquired, looking and sounding remarkably composed. 'Ain't the usual haunt for gentlemen of your class. Not that you can't come and go as you please o' course. And it's always nice to see a friendly face round these parts.'

  Leaning back in his chair, Daniel took a moment to sample the contents of his tankard before he said, 'As a matter of fact, I came here specifically to see you, Master Higgins.'

  The jarvey's surprise was too spontaneous not to be perfectly genuine. 'Me...? But why should you want to see me, m'lord?' he asked before a sudden and decidedly hopeful expression flickered over his weather-beaten features. 'You ain't been giving a bit more thought to the little suggestion I put to you t'other evening, by any chance?'

  Unlike his companion's, Daniel's smile was not pleasant. 'Believe me, Master Higgins, I have thought of nought else for the past few hours.' He leaned forward, his gaze intense. 'You see, Master Higgins, Miss Perceval has indeed been abducted, or at least her mysterious disappearance bears the distinct hallmark of abduction.'

  Daniel watched the stubble-covered jaw drop perceptively, as the jarvey, all astonished incredulity, gaped across the table. Either he was the most gifted actor who ever drew breath, or he was genuinely astounded. He just had to be sure which it was.

  'Now, Master Higgins,' he went on, his gaze never waving for a moment. 'Very few people knew for certain that Miss Perceval would be amongst the little party spending this afternoon out at Priory Wood. The lady who organised the outing knew, as
did my mother and myself... And, of course, you knew, Mr Higgins.'

  The jarvey did not pretend to misunderstand. 'But—but you don't suppose I had anything to do with the girl's disappearance, do 'ee?'

  'Now that is precisely what I am endeavouring to discover,' Daniel responded smoothly.

  'But I swear to you on my dear Dora's life, m'lord, I've never clapped eyes on the wench—I mean, the young lady—in my life. Furthermore, I ain't left the town all day. And there's plenty who'll vouch for that an all, iffen you don't believe me.'

  'I'm not suggesting that you were actively involved in Miss Perceval's disappearance, Higgins,' Daniel assured him, no longer harbouring the slightest doubt as to the man's innocence. 'What I'm trying to discover is whether you mentioned to a third party that there was to be a picnic held at Priory Wood today at which Miss Perceval was to be present?'

  'Now why the devil should I go and—' The jarvey's suddenly thoughtful expression was answer enough.

  'So, you did mention the fact to someone,' Daniel prompted, when his companion remained silent, staring fixedly down into the contents of his tankard.

  'Well, yes. Sort of, I did, I suppose,' he admitted at length. 'And Molly Turpin's brother lives out by Priory Wood, as I remember. Took her out there some months back in me carriage when her sister-in-law passed on. Right upset she was when she discovered she hadn't been left so much as the pearl brooch she had always admired. Wouldn't surprise me none if Molly's brother hadn't sold the brooch long since and spent the money on gin,' he continued after a moment's deliberation. 'A reet bad 'un is Ben Turpin. He'd do almost anything for his gin money.'

  'Even going so far as to abduct a young woman and hold her for ransom?' Daniel suggested, and Higgins looked gravely back across the table at him.

  'Ain't saying he would, and I ain't saying he wouldn't. But it seems fishy to me m'lord that after I tells Molly and that ne'er-do-well man friend of hers in this very tavern all about my visit to you, the very next day that poor lass goes missing.' He looked decidedly shamefaced. 'I wouldn't like to think that any 'arm had come to the poor girl on account of me opening me big mouth.'