The Fat Badger Society (Drusilla Davanish Mysteries Book 2)

by Dawn Harris

  Then I thought of my groom, perhaps tied up and gagged, and knew I would take any risk to free him. For, he had been as certain in my life as the morning light, and every bit as reliable. He had never let me down, and never would. When I’d warned him of the danger he could be in by assisting me, he’d shrugged it aside as being irrelevant. But it wasn’t irrelevant to me.

  If I decided to do something dangerous, that was my choice. Mudd was only in this situation because I’d agreed to work for Mr. Pitt. I’d told him his duties did not include assisting me in this way, knowing what his answer would be.

  Abducting Mudd was the perfect way to lure me to a quiet spot where it would easy to kill me. I believed I was safe while Mr. Hamerton was in Portsmouth. But what if I was wrong?

  I knew the lane well, but I said, as if in doubt, ‘Isn’t this where Mr. Young lives?’

  ‘Yes, his is the first house, and I was there last night with friends. When I left I noticed a light in the house at the top of the lane.’ As I well knew, they were just two houses in that road. ‘The light was only there for a few seconds, but I thought it odd, on account of the house being empty.’

  ‘Yes. It’s the house Mr. Hamerton bought.’

  ‘Oh, really? I hadn’t realised.’ He sounded surprised, yet I wasn’t convinced. ‘Then there may be a perfectly reasonable explanation for what I saw.‘

  ‘What time did you see the light?’

  ‘About eleven. Now I must beg you to excuse me. I should go with you, but if I do I’ll be late.’ I assured him with a calmness I was far from feeling, that it was quite unnecessary, and he cantered off.

  If this was a trap, the two pistols I carried might not be enough; I could only fire one shot from each before they needed to be reloaded. But I was willing to take any chance to find Mudd. And an empty house was the ideal hiding place. Only this wasn’t just any empty house. This was Mr. Hamerton’s house. And there was no better place to hide Mudd. I told myself I had nothing to fear, not when Mr. Hamerton was in Portsmouth.

  I dismounted some distance from the house, attached Orlando’s reins to a strong branch of a tree, checked the pistols and, sticking to the shadows, crept quietly up to the house and forced myself to walk right round it.

  It looked empty to me, but I decided it would be wise to check the stables at the back first. These were uninhabited too, then in the tack room I saw what I needed. A lantern, with a tinder box ready beside it. At least I would be able to see what I was doing. Once I managed to get the wretched thing alight, I saw a key inches from the lantern. My heart began to pound in alarm. Had the lantern and key been left there by the kidnappers to be handy when they came back? Or was it part of a trap, to make it easy for me to get into the house? Well, I thought, there was only one way to find out.

  Creeping back to the house I heard nothing except the rustling of the breeze through the trees, and an owl hooting in the distance. Yet Mr. Sims said he’d seen a light for a few seconds. A reflection from moonlight, perhaps? Or had Mr. Sims lied, and lured me to this lonely spot, knowing someone was waiting for me to go inside?

  Cursing my shaking hands, I tried the key on the nearest door, but it didn’t fit. I tried a side door and this time the key turned the lock with ease. As I removed the key, a sudden noise made me swing round. But it was only a squirrel scuttling up a nearby tree, and patting my heart in relief, I slowly opened the door. It squeaked loudly enough to warn anyone hiding inside of my approach, and I took one of the pistols from my pocket.

  As I did so I caught a glimpse, out of the corner of my eye, of a huge shadow right behind me, and I swung round to face it, pistol at the ready, convinced it was Mr. Silver.

  CHAPTER TWENTYSIX

  The huge shape bent in a sudden gust of wind, then I realised it was only the shadow of a particularly large tree, and I leant against the wall for a moment in sheer relief.

  Stepping quietly into the stone flagged passageway, my heart began to race again. I stopped, listening for any sound, but heard nothing. The passageway took me into the hall, from where many doors led to other rooms. I looked into every one, and all were empty. Venturing up the creaking staircase I checked the bedchambers and then the servants’ quarters, opening cupboards and wardrobes.

  Going downstairs, I went into the big kitchen, where I came across a door that was locked and bolted. At first I assumed it led to the garden, until I realised the outside wall was much further back than this door. Its position not being easily judged in the dark with the aid of only one lantern. Believing there must be a room behind the door, I pulled back the bolts, and used the key hanging on the wall to open the door. Some rough stone steps led down to a cellar and in the light from the lantern I saw another door at the bottom.

  I went down, my nose wrinkling at the mustiness of the air, but I soon forgot that when I heard a muffled shout. A key hanging on the wall in the same manner as the previous one, allowed me to unlock the door, and a moment later I was greeted by the familiar sight of Mudd’s weatherbeaten face breaking into an astonished grin. ‘My lady, how on earth did you find me?’

  To see him alive and well again brought a lump into my throat, and made it difficult to speak, but after a moment I managed to say, ‘It’s a long story, John. Tell me what happened to you first.’

  ‘Well, my lady, I’d just reached the Downs on my way home when four men appeared out of nowhere, pulled me off my horse, and hit me over the head,’ he said, gingerly rubbing the bump. ‘I managed to avoid the worst of the blow, but dropped to the ground like a stone, thinking that if they believed I was unconscious they wouldn’t hit me again.’

  I gave a rather watery smile. ‘Very sensible.’

  ‘Then they threw me over my horse and brought me here.’

  The lantern cast enough light for me to see racks of wine, and I recalled Mr. Hamerton had bought the contents of the cellar with the house. ‘Well, at least you weren’t thirsty.’

  ‘That I wasn’t, my lady,’ he agreed, grinning.

  ‘You’ll be hungry though.’

  ‘Starving, my lady.’

  ‘We’ll soon remedy that. Come on, it won’t do to hang about here. Your captors might return.’

  ‘They won’t do that, my lady. I heard them talking when they thought I was unconscious. They had orders to report to Mr. Brown in Portsmouth today.’

  ‘What, all of them?’

  ‘It sounded that way, my lady.’

  Appalled at their callous unconcern for Mudd’s life, I burst out, ‘Do you mean they just left you here?’

  ‘Yes, my lady. They said I had all the wine and beer I could drink.’

  ‘Beer?’

  'There are some casks over in the corner.’

  ‘Did you see these men, John?’

  ‘I managed to get a glimpse of them. Mr. Silver was in charge, but they used their false names all the time. There was Mr. Garnet, Mr. Pearl and Mr. Emerald.’

  These were the names in Septimus’s journal. ‘No-one else?’

  ‘No, my lady.’

  ‘Did you know any of them?’

  ‘No, but I’d recognise them if I saw them again.’

  ‘They didn’t tie you up then?’

  ‘Mr. Silver said there was no need. No-one would ever find me, and I wouldn’t be able to get out by myself. How did you know I was here, my lady?’ I explained about Mr. Sims seeing a light in the house and he said, ‘I’m very grateful to the gentleman.’ A thought struck him. ‘You didn’t come alone, did you, my lady?’

  I laughed. ‘I did, I’m afraid.’

  He shook his head at me. ‘You shouldn’t have done that, my lady.’

  ‘I know, but all’s well. Come on John, let’s get out of here.’

  I left the house exactly as I’d found it. I locked the doors, put the keys back on the wall, returning the lantern and the side door key to the stables. Then I sent Mudd off to see his father and get something to eat. It was only a quarter of a mile, and while father and son were enjoy
ing their reunion, I called on Mrs. Woodford, my aunt’s gossipy friend. Apologising for the lateness of the hour, I borrowed one of her carriage horses so that Mudd could ride home, promising to return the animal first thing in the morning. Aware too, that the worst gossip in Dittistone would spread the good news everywhere and save me a lot of time.

  On our way home I told Mudd that, at long last, I had proof of Mr. Brown’s identity, and explained where I’d left the reports I’d written. He instantly said he would be well enough to go to Portsmouth tomorrow, aware how vitally urgent it was for Mr. Dundas to see my report.

  ‘Are you sure, John?’ I asked in concern.’ What about your head?’

  ‘It’s only a small lump and I wasn’t knocked out.’

  We reached Westfleet without incident, and I found my aunt and uncle anxiously waiting for me in the drawing room. My uncle leapt up, exclaiming in relief, ‘Drusilla --- thank God. We were getting worried.’

  ‘Have you been at Julia’s all this time?’ Aunt Thirza demanded. ‘Do you realise it’s nearly midnight?’

  ‘Is it? It doesn’t matter,’ I said, beaming at them. ‘I’ve found Mudd.’

  I told them everything, which meant enduring a severe scold from my aunt for going off on my own. But she soon forgot that when I suggested we might still reach Portsmouth tomorrow if we made an early start.

  In the event my aunt and uncle set off for Cowes in the carriage before nine. Mudd and I were to follow on horseback a little later, but the speed with which Mrs. Woodford circulated the good news brought such a flood of visitors to the Manor that we were delayed. Julia was first, rapidly followed by others who had helped with the search, all eager to hear how I’d found Mudd, and I could not, and would not, fob off these good people with a mere few minutes of my time. After all they had done they were entitled to know the truth. Or most of it. I did imply the reason for the kidnapping was that the villains meant to ask for a ransom.

  Thus, it was early afternoon before we left Cowes, but we were fortunate enough to enjoy perfect sailing conditions, making a fast crossing to Portsmouth. As we approached the harbour, the sight of so many yachts and boats in the area left us spellbound. My uncle pointed out the “Queen Charlotte,” Lord Howe’s ship, and the Royal Barge. ‘The King must be on the ship right now. What a wonderful day for Howe. He must be very proud.’

  ‘I’m so glad we came,’ my aunt said happily. ‘Aren’t you, Drusilla?’

  ‘I am. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.’ The French had taken a beating and there was no better reason for a celebration.

  Arriving on dry land, my uncle soon organised a carriage to take us to the house we were to use, which was situated within sight of the Governor’s House, where Mr. Reevers and Mr. East were staying. Excited crowds thronged the streets and our progress was slow. The people of Portsmouth were making the most of the King’s visit, and clearly enjoying themselves. That would please His Majesty, I thought, for he loved to see happy smiling faces about him.

  Our arrival at the house, a day late, was explained to the butler, who went off in unhurried, stately fashion to inform cook we were here at last. For, as I had smilingly told him, we were famished after the sea journey. He returned shortly with the housekeeper, who conducted us to our bedchambers, and when we came downstairs again, the butler brought some welcome tea and ratafia biscuits to keep us going until dinner. Mr. Hamerton and Richard, who were out when we arrived, had ordered a late meal, not wanting to miss any of the celebrations.

  We were dressing for dinner when they returned, but later, over a delightful repast, we told them about Mudd’s kidnapping. Mr. Hamerton appeared genuinely horrified that my groom had been kept prisoner in his new house.

  ‘How could you have known?’ I said. And assuring him Mudd was not seriously hurt, I begged him to tell us what we had missed that day.

  ‘Well, it was most exciting,’ he beamed. ‘When the artillery fired the salute that told us the King and Queen had arrived at the Lion Gate a huge cheer went up. It’s a sound I’ll never forget. It was thrilling. Didn’t you think so, Richard?’

  ‘What?’ Richard looked up with a start. ‘Oh, the cheering. Yes, it was wonderful.’ He spoke without enthusiasm and had clearly not been attending.

  ‘The Gloucester regiment escorted the Royal party to the Dockyard,’ Mr. Hamerton went on. ‘Then we saw the Royal Barge heading out to Howe’s ship. Imagine Howe’s feelings, knowing the King had come expressly to celebrate his magnificent victory. I hear the King presented him with a jewelled sword.’

  ‘It must have been the greatest moment in his life,’ my uncle agreed heartily.

  While we were talking about Howe, Richard suddenly interrupted, ‘By the way, Drusilla, Mr. Reevers called yesterday. He assumed, as we did, that you were delayed by Mrs. Frère’s cold, and----’

  ‘Nonsense,’ my aunt interjected in scathing tones. ‘No cold would ever stop me enjoying such a treat as this.’

  I asked if Mr. Reevers had left a message and Richard nodded. ‘He said he couldn’t see you today as he, Mr. East and Mr. Dundas would be engaged with the King until late evening. He promised to call tomorrow morning.’

  I thanked him, but cursed inwardly. I wanted to see Mr. Dundas today and Mr. Reevers would arrange that. Still, I supposed another few hours wouldn’t matter.

  After dinner, I went out with my aunt and uncle. The streets were filled with jubilant crowds, and threading our way through them, I heard the same sentiments expressed everywhere, from the lowliest urchin to the most respectable gentleman. Sheer joy that we had finally given the Frenchies the whipping they deserved.

  Street vendors, even at this late hour, were enjoying a roaring trade, the delicious smell of pies sharpening many an appetite. On our way back we bumped into Mr. Sims. He appeared particularly cheerful and actually broke into a grin when I told him Mudd had indeed been in Mr. Hamerton’s empty house where he’d seen a light.

  ‘I am delighted to hear it, Lady Drusilla.’ I thanked him most sincerely for his assistance, to which he responded, ‘Not at all, ma’am. I was glad to be of service. But, if you will allow me, I have some happy tidings of my own to impart. It didn’t seem appropriate to mention it last night, but Miss Young has done me the great honour of accepting my offer of marriage.’

  ‘That is good news, Mr. Sims,’ I said, congratulating him.

  ‘Miss Young?’ my aunt inquired, a little puzzled. ‘I don’t think I---’

  Mr. Sims proudly told her, ‘She is the only child of Mr. Young of Dittistone, ma’am.’

  ‘Mr. Young? But isn’t he a-----’

  Giving her a quick dig in the ribs, I said, ‘He’s the gentleman who owns that lovely house near to Mr. Hamerton’s new residence. I believe he has an interest in politics.’

  ‘Indeed he has, ma’am. Dittistone returns two members of parliament, as you know. One is retiring shortly, and Mr. Young has ensured my name will go forward in his place.’

  Aunt Thirza remarked, ‘Aren’t you a little young to be a member of parliament, Mr. Sims?’

  ‘Mr. Pitt has run the country since he was twenty-four,’ my uncle reminded her. ‘And George Canning is the member for Newtown.’ Newtown being a constituency in the north of the Island. ‘He must be about your age, Mr. Sims.’

  ‘We were at university together, sir. In fact he told me about the vacancy.’

  I said, ‘Mr. Young is a Tory, I believe.’

  ‘He is, ma’am. As am I.’

  ‘Mr. Upton, if I remember rightly, favours the Whigs.’

  ‘That is so, ma’am.’

  ‘Is he aware of your good fortune?’

  ‘I informed him of it yesterday.’ He allowed himself a brief smile, which said much about Mr. Upton’s reaction to the news. The parson’s opinion of the Tory party, which he expressed at every opportunity, was that they were little better than rogues. ‘I dare say he will become accustomed in time.’

  Now I understood why Mr. Sims had come t
o the Island. He was an observant, if sober, young man, who knew exactly what he wanted. I had thought him rather self-centred, yet without his help I would never have found Mudd. Whether he had done so out of kindness, or because he thought I could influence the few who had the vote in Dittistone, I could only guess. Whatever the reason, his assistance removed any suspicion that he was connected with the Fat Badger Society.

  I smiled to myself, realising precisely why he’d told the Uptons his evenings were spent with an academic friend. They would strongly disapprove of him marrying the daughter of a gambler, who’d made his money from smuggling, and worst of all, was a Tory.

  When the light began to fade, we made our way to the Common, where special illuminations had the crowds gasping in delight. They were indeed beautiful and my aunt said she had not enjoyed herself as much in an age.

  Eventually tiredness overcame us and returning to the house, everyone decided to retire early. Even Mr. Hamerton and Richard did so, saying the celebrations had tired them out too. No instinct warned me all was not as it appeared. Nor did I have any premonition of what was to come. My mind was too busy with other worries.

  After two failed attempts on my life, and with August approaching fast, I knew I was in great danger. Nothing had been tried at Westfleet, but now I was in a strange house with servants who didn’t know me, I was an easier target, and time was running out. When Mr. Hamerton went out, I knew I was safe. If we were both out, or both in the house, anything could happen.

  I’d made sure I was not alone, even for a minute. But I forgot about being alone at night until I was actually getting into bed. I got up again, locked the door, fixed a chair under the door knob, took a loaded pistol from the drawer and put it on the bedside table. I shut the windows, thinking if anyone broke the glass it would wake me. Having done all I could, I expected to fall asleep straightaway, but every creak in this old house sounded like someone creeping along the corridor, and that kept me awake for a long time.