CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CONFRONTATION
Jack beat on the new Marquis of Cleaverings’s front door with the aged but bright brass knocker. A flustered, surprisingly young butler came to the door. “Yes?”
Fortunately, though still arrayed in his wedding clothing, Jack had a calling card stowed in his waistcoat pocket. Handing it to the butler, he said, “The Marquis of Northbrooke, to see his lordship. I am but recently married to his lordship’s cousin, Lady Kate. I have come on an errand for her ladyship.”
He knew that without this lengthy explanation, Cousin Freddie would undoubtedly not be at home to visitors if he were debriefing a spy.
Still, the butler hesitated.
“I have come all the way from Wiltshire, my good man. I realize it is early. If his lordship is at breakfast, I will be delighted to wait for him.”
“Perhaps you would follow me to his library,” the servant said, obviously relieved at this suggestion. Clearly not a butler of any long experience.
He was not kept waiting. A short, overweight, balding man of some thirty years or so bustled in with a smile across his face, holding out a hand. “Lord Northbrooke! I had no idea that Kate had married! I thought she would have invited me had she done so!”
“You know your cousin, I imagine. Once we had made up our mind to wed, she would do it without fuss or delay. We were wed by special license in her Aunt Clarice’s Music Room.” Thinking of details that would add verisimilitude to his claim, he added, “Attended by Lady Clarice’s Siamese cat and Henry Five, of course.”
The man’s face was a blank.
“Lady Susannah’s tortoise. A courting gift from the Duke of Devonshire.”
Cousin Freddy laughed. “How very unusual. I knew that Lady Clarice was somewhat eccentric, but her companion would seem to have her beat in spades.”
“And then some,” Jack said, laughing. Cousin Freddie was perspiring freely.
“Now! How can I help you?”
“Well, I wanted to meet you, of course. Kate has spoken so much about you, and I thought you deserved a personal visit to be informed of her news. I understand that by the terms of her father’s will, the guardianship of her stepbrother will now pass into my hands.”
“Yes. That is so. I thank you for making this journey, but surely a letter would have sufficed?”
“I confess, I had another motive. I am here to collect Apollo, Lady Kate’s stud.”
“Ah, yes.” Cousin Freddie’s face cleared. Jack could clearly see his relief. “Where did you put up for the night?”
“At the Gulls. Though I must confess I’m somewhat weary. They had a party of people in the room downstairs enjoying some sort of assembly until the small hours.”
Kate’s cousin’s brow corrugated in worry. Would he offer cousinly hospitality?
“I am certain that Lady Cleaverings would love to make your acquaintance, and I can see by your face that you are tired. Will you not join us for luncheon?”
“How very kind. Yes, that would be delightful.”
“Perhaps you would like to see Apollo now?”
“I’ll allow, I am most eager to do so.”
He stepped out into the hall and spoke to his butler. “His lordship will be staying for luncheon. Kindly inform Mrs. Granger. Also, ask Lady Cleaverings to meet us in the drawing room in half an hour.”
What had he done with the traitor in the few moments he had had between their arrivals? Booted him into the cellar? Most likely.
“Why did Lady Kate not accompany you?” Cousin Freddie asked on the way to the stables.
“I came on horseback. She was exhausted from the wedding and all the to-do. You know how women are about weddings.”
“I’m amazed that she is so anxious to see Apollo. In fact, it surprises me greatly.”
The devil! Had he made a faux pas?
“I’m by way of being an enthusiastic horse breeder, Cleaverings.”
“Well you have me to thank, then. She wanted him put down after he threw her father.”
Apollo had caused her beloved papa’s death? “Yes, I understand. She was very close to him. I’m hoping to help that wound to heal.”
“By rushing off to bring home the stallion who killed him?” Cousin Freddie wasn’t quite the fool he appeared.
“You must see in this rather the evidence of how dearly she loves me.” What a vain peacock he sounded! He was inventing at such a pace, hopefully the man could not see him sweat. “She views Apollo now as her wedding gift to me.”
The little marquis raised his eyebrows. “Indeed? Well, here he is. Look your fill. You can even ride him, if you like.”
He was not about to let the man return to his cohort and receive the papers from him. Did Cleaverings even know why the man had come? He hadn’t given them time enough to speak to one another before he had knocked on the door. But perhaps the little marquis had instructed his henchman to follow the courier all the way from London.
“Plenty of time for that. I shall be riding him back to Wiltshire.”
The beast was truly first rate. Dark charcoal gray with no markings whatsoever. A deep broad chest, strong, trim legs, and a perfect head. Jack ran his hand down Apollo’s neck and patted him briskly. The animal whinnied and pawed at the straw in his loose box. How long since the poor horse had been ridden? He would sire beautiful offspring together with his Athena. Jack was actually quite pleased.
“Lovely stallion,” he commented, infusing his voice with what he hoped was adequate enthusiasm. “Lovely wedding gift. Thank you for preserving his life, Cleaverings.”
They walked back into the house together and Jack said, “If you don’t have anything pressing, I would love to see my wife’s ancestral home. The portrait gallery, the State apartments. Surely this was originally a Tudor edifice?”
He had baited his hook well. Cleaverings beamed. His love of his property clearly exceeded his curiosity about the unknown in the cellar. Their tour of the house and gardens lasted until luncheon. Showing him every portrait of every Cleaverings back to Henry VIII’s day, the marquis discoursed on each room, as well. There was quite a rich collection of paintings to be expounded upon (how Kate must have hated to leave them in this little rodent’s hands!), as well as an extensive collection of medieval weapons and armor. And unless the traitor was hidden in Lady Cleaverings’ boudoir, he was indeed in the cellar.
At luncheon, Jack finally made the acquaintance of the small marchioness. She wore a loose gown and many shawls and smiled shyly at him.
“How is our dear Kate?” she asked.
“In fine fettle, I hope. We are newly married. It is my dearest wish that she be happy.”
“It must have been love at first sight,” Lady Cleaverings said. “She has hardly been in Town long enough to make a connection, never mind find a husband.”
He could truthfully assure her that it was. On his part, at least. “We took one look at each other and fell instantly into passionate love,” he said. “In fact, Aunt Clarice, dear lady, insisted that we marry as soon as may be. She got very tired of chaperoning us every minute, and we couldn’t bear to be apart.”
“I wish Kate could have made the trip with you,” the lady said, peeping up at him shyly.
“She has her great friend Caro visiting. They were brought out together from Blossom House, you know. Caro was very anxious to see my wife’s new home. They actually shooed me from the house.”
The marchioness leaned toward him impulsively. “Well, you will not wish to start back until tomorrow. Please do not stay in that nasty inn one more night. You must stay here.”
“It would be a true delight. What an interesting old house this is!”
“We are very fond of it,” the marquis said smugly.
Not for long!
“Now, this afternoon I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you entertain yourself,” Cleaverings told him. “I have an extensive library, with some quality first editions if you are interested in
that sort of thing. I must go in to town to sit as magistrate on some cases, and my wife will be at the vicarage for her weekly sewing circle. She must set the example in these things, you understand.”
How much the pompous idiot was enjoying lording it over his inferiors! And Kate was going to be angry as a hornet to find that dear Cousin Freddie was a traitor who was bringing shame on her family name.
“I would not keep you from your duty. As a matter of fact, I am rather tired. As I told you, my sleep was not restful last night. I believe I will retire for a while to the library and read. Thank you for suggesting it.”
He saw the marquis ride off directly after luncheon. Lady Cleaverings went to the garden to cut flowers. Jack watched from the window of the library. When she had toddled off to the vicarage, which was apparently within walking distance, he saw his chance. Now, his only problem was the servants.
The butler was in his pantry, polishing silver. Was the wine cellar locked? This was not London, and the house was old. He would take his chances that it wasn’t. Cousin Freddie would not have had time to unlock it for his fugitive.
“I say,” he addressed the butler, “You probably saw that his lordship has shown me clear over this fascinating old house. I’m guessing that there are dungeons below. Henry VIII and all that?”
“Oh, yes, my lord, we have a splendid set of dungeons!”
“I must confess a weakness for dungeons, but I would not want to keep you from your work. Just tell me where the door is, and I will have a jolly time investigating them for myself.”
“But I must light a torch for you. Come, my lord. We will get one from the kitchen and light it from the stove.”
* * *
Creeping down the stairwell that was hewn from the rock foundations of the house, Jack was glad of his torch. It was pitch dark. He made each step carefully, not wanting to loose a rock. Then he realized the man who must be hiding down there would be expecting Freddie, so he stepped more boldly.
When he reached the bottom of the steps, he saw his quarry lying on a pallet of what looked to be grain sacks, blinking and raising his hand to block out the light.
“Who the devil are you?”
“The marquis sent me. He is very sorry he had to send you down here in such haste. A bothersome relative showed up at the door. He has had to go off to practice being magistrate this afternoon. Sent me a message. Told me to listen to your story.”
“Well, it’s about bloody time. I’m half-starved, and I rode all the bloody night.”
“Sorry. I’ll ask the cook to send something down. What would you fancy?”
“Bread, cheese, ale. A bit of mutton.”
“I’m certain that can be arranged. I’ll do so as soon as you tell me your bit.”
Jack stood over the man, still holding the torch in front of him so the traitor couldn’t see his face behind the bright light. The fellow was pulling what looked to be the crucial roll of vellum out of his topcoat. “I followed the courier out of the War Office from a distance. He never noticed me. I waited until Reading to catch him up. He did not give that dispatch box easily. Was intent on protecting it with his life. I was obliged to shoot the poor devil.”
“Pity. Now you’re wanted for murder as well as treason. You must take great care not to get caught.”
“Aye. And that’s where you come in, eh?”
“Proceed.”
“Broke open the dispatch case. Couldn’t carry it on horseback.” He handed over the roll of vellum. “You take it from here.”
“I’ll make the delivery.” Jack stowed the roll inside his own jacket. “Were you followed?”
“I’m not certain. I think I may have been.”
“We don’t want to involve his lordship.” Digging his purse out of his pantaloons, he handed the man two guineas. “I think you’d better leave here. Go find yourself a meal and room in town at The Gulls. I’ll arrange for you to be paid there. You can expect my man. Now, climb up the stairs after me. I’ll hold the torch. When I’m in the kitchen, I’ll distract the cook long enough for you to make it out the back door.”
* * *
The plan went off splendidly. Not many minutes later, Jack was saddling Apollo. Congratulating himself grimly, he mounted and rode off down the lane, seeking Jerome’s cottage. He would have his henchman go to the inn, entice the fugitive to his cottage, and bind him up with his sailor’s knots, awaiting the arrival of the swells from London who would interrogate him. After they determined the extent of Cousin Freddie’s involvement, they could arrest him as well.
As for Freddie, he had left him a message with his butler, thanking him for his hospitality, and saying he was suddenly anxious to return to his bride. Which he was. Very.
Considering what a disaster the War Office must find themselves facing, it was doubtless very self-indulgent of him, but he must, at least, stop in Reading to reassure Kate before riding on to London to deliver the purloined documents.
He would ride as far as he could today, then stop for a good night’s sleep, and proceed the rest of the way on the morrow. He was delighted to find Apollo an excellent mount.
Hopefully Cousin Freddie had been taken in by his ruse. If he was more clever than he seemed, there would be trouble. There was obviously a spy in the
War Office and Jack knew his only hope of not being rumbled himself was if he could beat any message Cleaverings might send to London.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
IN WHICH OUR HEROINE IS CHAGRINED
Kate’s fears calmed a bit as she rode with Betsy down the most direct route to Devonshire. They had driven a substantial distance without seeing the body of her beloved new husband on either side of the road. But she had never known that riding in a carriage could be so exhausting. Perhaps she could credit it to all her conflicting emotions. After all, during the past week, she had been abducted, faced almost certain death, tried to kill a man, nursed Jack, faced ruin, had been married, and had experienced the sensation of falling in love with her husband. Then there was the dead courier, and now all her fears and worries about Jack’s safety.
Even an author from the Minerva Press would hesitate to pen such a story. It is no wonder I am exhausted. I have had more cataclysmic disruptions in one week than most people experience in a lifetime. Is marriage to Jack always going to mean unrestrained drama?
When she and Betsy reached Salisbury, Kate decided to go no further that day. Spotting the most prosperous inn in the lovely town, she signaled Jack’s coachman to halt. The Rose and Crown was situated right next to the Avon River. She could see the towers of the Cathedral, and wondered how far away Jack’s estate was, now that they were in Wiltshire. The thought that her new home was somewhere not too distant made her wonder for the first time what it looked like. So caught up was she in present emotions, she had not spared a thought for her future life.
Kate identified herself as the marchioness of Northbrooke to the dapper little innkeeper who was at least a head shorter than she was. He greeted her warmly. “Just married, it would have to be. Where is his lordship, then?”
“He had some tiresome business to attend to in Devonshire. I am traveling to meet him. I could not resist stopping here for the night. This is a lovely hostelry.”
“We will endeavor to make you comfortable.”
In the event, both Kate and Betsy had a delicious meal of stuffed capon, fresh peas, game pie, and lemon tartlets to follow. Kate wondered where Jack was dining and if he had reopened his wound. She could not begin to imagine how tired he must be.
Though her bed was exceedingly comfortable that night, she tossed and turned, wondering about Jack’s fate. She hoped Providence would be kind and allow her to be reunited with her husband.
Cousin Freddie would be surprised at her quick marriage. She only hoped that he would be able to direct her to someone who knew about Walsingham’s use of the smugglers.
In the morning, the sun seemed over bright, and she had little appetite for breakfas
t, anxious as she was to be gone. She thanked and paid her host while Betsy saw to the reloading of their luggage in the boot of Jack’s carriage. The horses had had a good rest overnight. Soon they were on the road once again, and Kate felt everything inside her urging her forward, but knew that at any moment, she might discover her husband dead or wounded by the side of the East West Road.
The image had so haunted her that she had not even allowed for the idea that someone else might have taken Jack up in their carriage and taken him somewhere she would never find him. She had not doubted her actions before, but now she wondered if perhaps she should have stayed in Reading until her husband found a way to let her know where he was.
Betsy surprised her when she had begun to think of halting for a quick luncheon.
“Here, your ladyship. I asked the cook at the Rose and Crown to pack a picnic for us. We have Cornish pasties, strawberries, and even a jar of lemonade.”
“Excellent! Thank you for being so thoughtful.” They continued their vigil over the roadside as they ate. Midway through the afternoon, the carriage came to an unexpected halt. As Kate leaned out of her window, she was astonished to see a very alive and vigorous Jack on what appeared to be Papa’s stallion, Apollo.
“Jack! Oh, Jack! You are alive!”
His brow was thunderous, however, and he did not appear to share in her rejoicing at their reunion. Riding up to the door of his conveyance, he dismounted, opened the door, and let down the steps.
Kate could not resist throwing herself on his chest. “Oh, I was sure you were dead! I’m so glad to see you!”
“I’m trying to hold your confounded stallion, Kate. Stand aside and explain if you can what in blazes you think you are doing! Where are you headed?”
He was displeased! Bristling at his response to her loving embrace, she said, “Let us not stand about wrangling on a public road. I am certain you must know of an inn close by where we can discuss your adventures in a private parlor. It seems the whole of our relationship is to be conducted in the private parlors of various and sundry inns.”
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