by Joan Smith
"I could sleep tonight if it were stuffed with needles. How tired I am, and I haven't done a thing all day but sit in a well-sprung chaise."
"We have worried. Worry is the most fagging thing in the world. Worry and pain." She went on to issue several instances of friends whose health and appearance had been ravaged by these twin destroyers. While she complained, Vanessa did what she had to do to her valise, then waited for the glue to dry. She walked to the window and looked out, trying for a glimpse of Kiley.
The inn was built around a courtyard, where horses were being walked to and fro. Behind it was a bowling green. There was an open gallery built around the courtyard, up one story, just beyond her window, but there was no door to reach it from her room. Access was from the two ends of the hall. She would have enjoyed a stroll along it, to take the cooling air, but it would only advertise her presence if Kiley should happen to enter that courtyard.
"I'll just leave my clock here with you, my dear, and take my valise into my own chamber," Elleri said. "Change into your light-green frock. It goes well with your eyes. I shall do something to your hair. I do wish we had got it cut before coming. I shall do it after we get to Harkmans. I wonder if there are any nice young gentlemen around Ipswich," she added, her thoughts already channeling themselves into the old familiar themes.
"Have you taken Carlisle in aversion so soon?" Vanessa asked. "I made sure his taking such good care of us would incline you to give him my hand."
"That must depend on how he is situated financially. All we know thus far is that he has a place in the Cotswold Hills. Gentlemen more usually have a small hunting box there, you must know. It could be nothing more than a hunting cottage he has. It was the Cotswolds he mentioned, was it not?"
"Yes, how long ago it seems, way last night."
Water was brought up. They bathed the dust of travel from their bodies before outfitting themselves in clean gowns for the dinner with Mr. Carlisle.
"How pleasant to have a quiet evening to look forward to," Elleri said, smiling. "I shall insist on paying for dinner. I'll tell them to put it on our bill. We are falling too deep into Mr. Carlisle's debt. Henry would not like it. Be sure you don't tell him." This was her solution to anything which the colonel would dislike. To keep him in ignorance of it.
Carlisle came for the valise. "My tiger is to stay with it locked in my room while we eat. He is completely reliable. He won't let anyone in." He said this before noticing the changed gowns and refreshed coiffures.
"How lovely you both look," he said. "I will be the envy of the place, having two such belles to escort. Shall we go below, ladies? I have spoken for a private parlor."
"You think of everything, sir," Elleri complimented, wondering how she could tacitly tell the waiter to put the charge on her bill.
Vanessa smiled her approval. She was looking forward to dinner with him. He seemed a lively and effectual gentleman. If only she could be sure an even more effectual one would not intrude to spoil their evening. She had the liveliest dread that he would. She was correct.
Chapter Ten
Carlisle considered himself the ladies' host, and seemed intent on being a good one. He had the private parlor waiting, with a bottle of wine ready to be served. He had scanned the menu and suggested for their delectation the ham and fowl, as mutton was too heavy for this weather. Fresh fruit and cheese he had selected for their dessert, which was quickly changed to a richer pastry at the slightest hint.
How he had contrived all this while also making a careful toilette was a matter of interest to Miss Simons, who thought she had the art down to a speed not often equaled by others, but he had certainly outstripped her. On top of it, he did not appear rushed or flustered as he outlined his arrangements. She was convinced no mere owner of a hunting box could be so efficient.
They ordered dinner, then sat sipping a glass of wine while awaiting its arrival. "I assure you the letter is being guarded as I outlined, and that is the last word we shall say of its existence this evening," he promised. "By tomorrow it will be delivered safely to Ipswich, and we can relax, with the satisfaction of a job well done."
"Here, here," Miss Simons approved, lightly tapping her glass on the tabletop. "We must not lose track of each other afterward, Mr. Carlisle. You shall come to visit us whenever you are in the vicinity of Hastings."
"I will certainly avail myself of that kind offer," he told her, then turned to cast a quizzical smile at Vanessa, who had not seconded the offer. "If Miss Bradford does not object, that is?"
"Forgive me. I was wool-gathering. We will be delighted to receive you at any time."
"Do you not think we might be on a first-name basis, now that we are partners in adventure?" he asked. "We shall ask Miss Simons to decree on the propriety of it. Miss Simons, what do you say?"
He meant the question for no more than a formality, but soon learned she dealt the matter more careful consideration. She began ticking off on her fingers the length of their acquaintance—in hours, weighing against this what time to allow for the particular importance of their joint mission. "In the normal way it would not do at all," she said, shaking her head. "Not at all the thing, but then, when we have to speak of spies and fights and calling constables, it does seem rigid to be forever saying Mr. Carlisle, or Miss Bradford, though you must not call me Elleri."
While he was behind the chaperone's back to refill their glasses, he smiled at Vanessa, a boyish smile that laughed at the antique notions of the elderly. "True, the nature of our relationship must be taken into consideration," he agreed. "Were I to say, for instance, 'Duck, Miss Bradford—there is a bullet coming toward you,' only look at the time I should waste. What should I say instead? Vanessa, I believe, is the name I hear Miss Simons use. You do not hear mine, but if you did, it would be Harvey.''
"Harvey," Miss Simons repeated consideringly. "It has quite a formal sound to it. I think we might call Mr. Carlisle 'Harvey,' Vanessa," she decreed.
"May I call Miss Bradford 'Vanessa' as well?" he persisted.
"Yes, you may," he was told, "but you ought not to call her Nessa till after we are a little better acquainted."
"I hope that will not be too long," he replied, with a bow divided between the pair of them.
Having dispensed with talk of their mutual business, he was intent on turning the conversation toward furthering the intimacy. This met with approval from the chaperone, all of it done quite properly under her own eye, but she missed a few meaningful looks and smiles that passed behind her back.
The younger lady soon discovered it was more than friendship he had in mind. He was trying to set up a flirtation with her. An attractive and eligible girl, she was not unaccustomed to dalliance, but there was some intentness in Carlisle's advances that surprised her. Surely he had not fallen in love with her so quickly, but over dinner, while Elleri was busy cutting her meat or examining her vegetables, there were soft looks bestowed on her charge, gazings with a complete disregard for his food, then a sudden jolt of surprise would cross his face, as he blushed and attacked the food on his plate with vigor, making it clear he had been ignoring it.
The only suitor to have shown his admiration so openly and naively before was a young ensign at the Army base, a mere callow youth. Vanessa had to smile to see Carlisle so smitten. He was no green youth either, but a gentleman well into his twenties.
After dinner, he suggested cards to pass a few hours before retiring. Every effort was made to be amusing, but still some pall hung over the party. Its reason was no secret to any of them. They avoided mentioning it, but each silently wondered whether Kiley would not come pouncing in on them. Carlisle frequently took a nervous peek out the window—every time he heard wheels or hooves. Miss Simons played her hand of cards so poorly that she trumped herself, while Nessa declared after one hand that she did not feel much like cards tonight. She would just watch them, but she listened at the door into the hallway more than she watched.
"I had better take a run up to my ro
om to see everything is all right," Harvey said a little later on. It was a relief to get it out into the open, that they were all worried.
"I wish you would," Vanessa said.
He was gone rather a long time, long enough for them to become worried. Vanessa stood at the parlor door, looking out for his return. She was still there when Kiley strode into the inn. He looked extremely angry, and very dirty. He was grimed with dust, and mud, which had hardened in the sun to solid buttons of dirt, bespattered his boots and trousers. His shirt too had dark marks on it. Even a hard ride mounted on horseback could hardly account for his condition. He looked as though he had been rolling in filth. Miss Simons expressed a timid hope that the inn would not hire a room to anyone so disreputable-looking. As they watched, however, the register was pushed toward him for him to sign in.
Just before he went to the stairway, he directed one long scowl toward them. "Good evening, the Misses Forrester," he called across the few intervening yards. "I will do myself the honor to join you presently." Then he turned and walked quickly up the stairs.
"Surely he ought to have called us the Misses Forrester," Miss Simons thought. "Certainly it would be written so— though it would be more proper to say Miss Forrester and Miss Vanessa—or ... I am sure I signed Mrs. Forrester." She trailed off into doubt.
"Shouldn't we warn Harvey?" Vanessa asked. She was not surprised Kiley had come. The only surprise was that it had taken him so long. From his condition, she knew his interval had not been dull, nor pleasant.
"He should be down presently. If he is not, we shall send a servant up to see what is going on," Miss Simons decided. "Oh, dear, I was never so vexed in my life. What an evening it has been, trying to keep up any polite conversation, and the only thing in any of our heads that pesty man, though it would not do to harp on it, when that nice Harvey is trying so very hard to be entertaining. He is well bred, a true gentleman. It is under such trying circumstances as this that breeding shows, trying to talk under stress." To her, this was the important matter of their evening.
"I believe that is carrying breeding to a foolish excess," Nessa replied.
"There can be no excess of breeding!"
Carlisle was soon back. "You saw him?" he asked. They nodded.
"What took you so long? Was something the matter?" Vanessa asked.
"I thought it was Kiley I spotted from my window, and waited to be sure. You ladies go to your rooms, and let me deal with him. You will not want to be bothered with him."
"Excellent!" Miss Simons agreed instantly.
"I am not afraid of him. I'll stay," Nessa said. This was not quite true. She was frightened, but it was an exhilarating fright, carrying with it some desire to lock horns again with the enemy.
"There might be violence, Nessa," her aunt pointed out. "It would be improper for you to be mixed up in it—to see it, I mean."
"She is right, Vanessa," Harvey urged. "I'll take care of him, and go up to you ladies in your room after."
These offers of "dealing'' with Kiley and “taking care'' of him sounded well enough, but it was not at all clear whether Kiley would be dealt with or do the dealing. With this in doubt, Vanessa decided her first duty was to safeguard the letter. She must leave the field of battle to the men, much as she disliked to do it.
"Come along, then," Elleri urged. "Thank you ever so much, Harvey. So very kind of you,” she rattled on, easing herself out the door and out of trouble. She scampered up the stairs as fast as her legs could carry her. "So fortunate Harvey was looking out his window and spotted Kiley."
"It took him long enough to come down after he did spot him. You would think he would have arrived sooner—come darting down the instant he knew it was Kiley."
"You forget, dear, he thinks he has your letter. He was likely hiding the valise somewhere."
"That is true. How ungrateful of me, after all his trouble. The truth is, I find his company strangely wearing after a while."
"It is the nerves. I made sure we had been at cards for hours, when I saw by my watch it was only twenty-five minutes."
The next forty-five minutes passed even more slowly, waiting in their room for Harvey to come to them. Once a minute, one or the other of them would tiptoe to the door and ease it open silently, to see if either of the men was in the hallway, coming or going, or possibly fighting the other. They concluded Kiley had a light step, for he had managed to get downstairs without attracting their attention. At the end of their vigil, Carlisle came to them, unharmed and smiling. Miss Simons entertained a doubt that she did the proper thing to have him step into her chamber, knew she did wrong to close the door, but did it anyway.
"Well, and what happened?" she asked eagerly.
"I have convinced him he is on a fool's errand," he told them, beaming at his cleverness. "He thinks we are eloping, you and I, Vanessa."
"What!" Miss Simons squealed. "Oh, Harvey—Mr. Carlisle, that was ill done. If word of it ever gets out, Nessa is ruined."
Harvey looked to his victim with apologetic horror. "I'm sorry! Indeed I didn't mean to create any mischief for you. I only wanted to help."
"That's all right, Harvey. No harm done," Vanessa said, yet she was extremely annoyed with this puppy. She certainly did not want Kiley to think she had chosen him for a husband, but of course Kiley did not think anything of the sort. He had only pretended to believe the foolish story to lessen Carlisle's vigilance. If Harvey was stupid enough to think he had conned Kiley, he was of very little use to her. She needed a sharper ally than that.
"He is to spend the night here at the inn," Harvey went on. "It is getting pretty late, you know, and he has a jaded nag on his hands, as well as being exhausted himself from riding all day. I don't believe he'll bother us again. We'll leave early in the morning, before he is awake. I hope you won't be even more angry with me, Miss Simons, but I told him you are helping us with the elopement, chaperoning your niece till we reach the border. We are headed north, you see, so it is credible we could be off to Gretna Green."
"We would be headed toward the Great North Road if we were going to Scotland," Vanessa said, rather curtly.
Miss Simons' attention was on another matter. "Why did you not tell him Nessa is to be married from the home of friends?" she asked. "It would be much more respectable—not to say it is respectable, but it is less ramshackle than being wed over the anvil. No one will ever believe it of me, Mr. Carlisle. I'm afraid that was left out of your reckoning. I would be the last lady to countenance a runaway match for my niece."
"I don't suppose Kiley knows you well enough to realize that," he mentioned. "I'm sorry if I have made a botch of it. If I have ruined Vanessa's reputation, I will be ready—willing—happy to make restitution. I mean ..."
"You are very sweet"—Nessa smiled at him—"but I don't think I am quite ruined, Harvey."
"Oh," he said, rather sadly.
When Elleri tumbled to what he was saying, a tender expression took over her face. She looked from one to the other of them, nodding. "If she is ruined, we know what to do about it, then," she said archly, and taking Carlisle by the elbow, propelled him toward the door, said good night and closed it behind him, before turning to Vanessa with a quizzing look.
"Well, miss, you have certainly conquered that young man in a hurry. How well done of him! As good as an offer. We must hear more of that property in the Cotswolds tomorrow. Carlisle—I wonder if he is related to the Howards, the Earl of Carlisle. Ah, but then he would be a Howard, would he not? To say nothing of being a Catholic. Still, it is a good name. Harvey Carlisle. Vanessa Carlisle," she said in an experimental way, to test its euphony.
"Kiley was not so easily taken in," Vanessa said, cutting into her monologue.
"You may be sure he was. People are always ready to believe the worst of a girl. I only hope he does not tell anyone."
"He knows what we are doing. He opened that envelope I gave him. He is a dangerous, clever spy, and Mr. Carlisle is a fool. I wonder what Kiley is up t
o now."
"Let us hope he is not broadcasting your elopement, in spite."
"We would be better off, safer, if he were."
"How can you say such a thing! So very shabby."
Vanessa turned off her ears, realizing she had two fools for cohorts. If the letter was to be safely delivered, it was up to herself alone.
Chapter Eleven
Miss Simons rattled on for a long time on such irrelevant topics as choices for a honeymoon spot, and where the trousseau should be made up. It left Vanessa free to worry and plan in peace. She was only twenty-five miles from Ipswich. It could not be impossible to get there safely, if she used her wits. The great danger was that Kiley knew her destination, would be laying traps for her along the way. It seemed safer to dart off in some other direction, to fool him.
As much as she disliked to strike out alone, she was coming to think it would throw him off the track. If she could find a good disguise, then go in some other direction than Ipswich, she might evade him. But what direction? London was farther, but it was still within a day's travel. There was the whole Foreign Office there that could handle the matter for her.
Yes, she would buy or steal some man's clothing, hire a hack, as Kiley would be looking for her in a carriage, and ride to London, with Gretch and his pistol for company. Or should they go on a public coach? The mail coach was fast. He would not dare to assault her in front of half a dozen travelers, and on His Majesty's Mail Coach.
"But you must not breathe a word of it to Henry," Miss Simons terminated her speech, looking sharp to see this was understood.
"Tell him what?" Vanessa asked, shaking to attention.
"My dear, you have not heard a word I have been saying. Your head is full of Harvey. It is only to be expected, at such a romantic time. Of course he will make a proper offer later, after speaking to Henry."
Nessa smiled, to encourage Elleri to chatter on in this harmless way. When should she make her departure was the next question she posed herself. Not in the dangerous darkness of night, yet daylight was too revealing. He could be belowstairs at the crack of dawn, watcing out for her. When—when—when?