The Talisman Ring

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The Talisman Ring Page 9

by Georgette Heyer


  ‘I have sent him to clear it away, sir, but don’t you realize they’ll be able to trace you all the way from the Forest?’

  ‘Of course I realize it! Haven’t I made my plans? Eustacie, my sweet cousin, will you have me for your groom?’

  ‘But yes, I will have you for anything you wish!’ said Eustacie instantly.

  His eyes danced. ‘Will you so? Begad, if I can settle my affairs creditably I’ll remind you of that!’

  ‘Sir, will you listen to reason?’ implored Nye.

  An imperious finger admonished him. ‘Quiet, you! I’ll thank you to remember I’m in the saddle now, Joe.’

  ‘Are you indeed, Mr Ludovic? Well, I’ll do no pillion-riding behind you, for well I know what will come of it!’

  ‘Take away this gruel!’ commanded Ludovic. ‘And get it into your head that I’m not Mr Ludovic! I’m mademoiselle’s groom, which the wicked smugglers fired at.’ He cocked his head, considering. ‘I think I’ll be called Jem,’ he decided. ‘Jem Brown.’

  ‘No!’ said Eustacie, revolted. ‘It is a name of the most undistinguished.’

  ‘Well, grooms aren’t distinguished. I think it’s a good name.’

  ‘It is not. It will be better if you are Humphrey.’

  ‘No, I’ll be damned if I’ll be called Humphrey! If there’s one name I dislike that’s it.’

  Miss Thane interposed placably. ‘Don’t argue with him, Eustacie. It’s my belief he’s in a high fever.’

  He grinned at her. ‘I am,’ he agreed. ‘But my head’s remarkably clear for all that.’

  ‘Well, if it’s clear enough to grapple with the details of this story of yours, tell us what became of the groom’s horse,’ said Miss Thane.

  ‘The smugglers killed it,’ offered Eustacie.

  Ludovic shook his head. ‘No, that won’t do. No corpse. Damn the horse, it’s a nuisance! Oh, I have it! When I was shot the brute threw me, and made off home.’

  ‘Maddened by fright,’ nodded Miss Thane. ‘Well, I’m glad to have that point settled. I feel I can now face any number of Excisemen.’

  ‘Mon cousin,’ interrupted Eustacie suddenly, ‘do you think it is Tristram who has your ring?’

  The laugh vanished from Ludovic’s eyes. ‘I’d give something to know!’

  ‘Well, but I must tell you that I thought of a very good plan last night,’ said Eustacie. ‘I will marry Tristram, and then I can search in his collection for the ring.’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing!’ snapped Ludovic.

  Nye said roughly: ‘For shame, Mr Ludovic! What’s this unaccountable nonsense? Sir Tristram’s no enemy of yours!’

  ‘Is he not?’ retorted Ludovic. ‘Will you tell me who, besides myself, was in the Longshaw Spinney that accursed night?’

  Nye’s face darkened. ‘Are you saying it was Sir Tristram as did a foul murder all for the sake of a trumpery ring, my lord? Eh, you’re crazed!’

  ‘I’m saying it was he who met me in the spinney, he who would have given his whole collection for that same trumpery ring! Didn’t he always dislike me? Can you say he did not?’

  ‘What I wish to say,’ interrupted Miss Thane in a calm voice, ‘is that I want my breakfast.’

  Ludovic sank back on to his pillows with a short laugh. Nye, reminded of his duty, at once led both ladies down to the parlour, apologizing as he went for there being no one but himself and Clem to wait upon them. ‘I’ve only my sister besides, who does the cooking,’ he told them, ‘and a couple of ostlers, of course. We don’t get folk stopping here in the winter in the general way. Maybe it’s as well, seeing who’s under my roof, but I doubt it’s not what you’re accustomed to, ma’am.’

  Miss Thane reassured him. He set a coffee-pot down on the table before her, and said gloomily: ‘It’s in my mind that no one in his senses would take Mr Ludovic for a groom, ma’am. If you could get him only to see reason – ! But there, he never did, and I doubt he never will! As to this notion he’s taken into his head that ’tis Sir Tristram who has the ring, I never heard the like of it! It was Sir Tristram as got him out of England – ay, and in the very nick!’

  ‘Yes, and my cousin Basil says that it was to make him a murderer confessed!’ said Eustacie.

  Nye looked at her from his rugged brows. ‘Ay, does he so? Well, I’ve not had the gloves on with Mr Lavenham, miss, but I’ve sparred with Sir Tristram a-many times, and I say he’s a clean-hitting gentleman! With your leave, ma’am, I’ll go back to Mr Ludovic now.’

  He went out, and Miss Thane, pouring out two cups of coffee, said cheerfully: ‘At all events there seems to be some doubt about Sir Tristram’s guilt. I think, if I were you, I would not marry him until we can be positive he is the murderer.’

  Upon reflection Eustacie agreed to the wisdom of this course. She ate a hearty breakfast, and returned to Ludovic’s room, leaving Miss Thane in sole possession of the parlour. Miss Thane finished her meal in a leisurely fashion, and had gone out into the coffee-room, on her way to the stairs, when the sound of an arrival made her pause. An authoritative, not to say peremptory voice outside called the landlord by name, and the next moment the door was flung open and a tall gentleman in riding-dress strode in, carrying a somewhat battered bandbox in either hand. He checked at sight of Miss Thane, favouring her with a hard stare, and putting down the bandboxes, took off his hat, and bowed slightly. ‘I beg your pardon: do you know where I may find the landlord?’ he asked.

  Miss Thane, one hand on the banisters, one foot on the bottom stair, looked at him keenly. A pair of stern, rather frowning grey eyes met hers with an expression of the most complete indifference. Miss Thane let go of the banisters, and came forward. ‘Do tell me!’ she said invitingly. ‘Are you “my cousin Tristram”?’

  Five

  Sir Tristram’s worried frown lightened. He stared at Miss Thane with an arrested look in his eyes, and his stern mouth relaxed a little. ‘Oh!’ he said slowly, and seemed for the first time to take stock of Sarah Thane. He saw before him a tall, graceful woman, with a quantity of light, curling brown hair, a generous mouth, and a pair of steady grey eyes which held a distinct twinkle. He noticed that she was dressed fashionably but without furbelows in a caraco jacket over a plain blue gown, a habit as nearly resembling a man’s riding-dress as was seemly. She looked to be a sensible woman, and she was obviously gently born. Sir Tristram was thankful to think that his betrothed had (apparently) fallen into such unexceptionable hands, and said with a slight smile: ‘Yes, I am Tristram Shield, ma’am. I am afraid you have the advantage of me?’

  Miss Thane saw her duty clear before her, and answered at once: ‘Let me beg you to come into the parlour, Sir Tristram, and I will explain to you who I am.’

  He looked rather surprised. ‘Thank you, but as you have no doubt guessed, I am come in search of my cousin Mademoiselle de Vauban.’

  ‘Of course,’ agreed Miss Thane, ‘and if you will step in the parlour –’

  ‘Is my cousin in the house?’ interrupted Sir Tristram.

  ‘Well, yes,’ admitted Miss Thane, ‘but I am not all sure that you can see her. Come into the parlour, and I will see what can be done.’

  Sir Tristram cast a glance up the stairs, and said in a voice edged with annoyance: ‘Very well, ma’am, but why there should be any doubt about my seeing my cousin I am at a loss to understand.’

  ‘I can tell you that too,’ said Miss Thane, leading the way to the private parlour. She shut the door, and said cheerfully: ‘One cannot after all be surprised. You have behaved with a shocking lack of sensibility, have you not?’

  ‘I was not aware of it, ma’am. Nor do I know why my cousin should leave her home at dead of night and undertake a solitary journey to London.’

  ‘She was wishful to become a governess,’ explained Sarah.

 
He stared at her in the blankest surprise. ‘Wishful to become a governess? Nonsense! Why should she wish anything of the kind?’

  ‘Just for the sake of adventure,’ said Miss Thane.

  ‘I have yet to learn that a governess’s life is adventurous!’ he said. ‘I should be grateful to you if you would tell me the truth!’

  ‘Come, come, sir!’ said Miss Thane pityingly, ‘it must surely be within your knowledge that the eldest son of the house always falls in love with the governess, and elopes with her in the teeth of all opposition?’

  Sir Tristram drew a breath. ‘Does he?’ he said.

  ‘Yes, but not, of course, until he has rescued her from an oubliette, and a band of masked ruffians set on to her by his mother,’ said Miss Thane matter-of-factly. ‘She has to suffer a good deal of persecution before she elopes.’

  ‘I am of the opinion,’ said Sir Tristram with asperity, ‘that a little persecution would do my cousin a world of good! Her thirst for romance is likely to lead her into trouble. In fact, I was very much afraid that she had already run into trouble when I found her bandboxes upon the road. Perhaps, since she appears to have told you so much, she has also told you how she came to lose them?’

  Miss Thane, perceiving that this question would lead her on to dangerous ground, mendaciously denied all knowledge of the bandboxes. She then made the discovery that Sir Tristram Shield’s eyes were uncomfortably penetrating. She met their sceptical gaze with all the blandness she could summon to her aid.

  ‘Indeed!’ he said, politely incredulous. ‘But perhaps you can tell me why, if she was bound for London by the night-mail, as her maid informed me, she is still in this inn?’

  ‘Certainly!’ said Sarah, rising to the occasion. ‘She arrived too late for the mail, and was forced to put up for the night.’

  ‘What did she do for night-gear?’ inquired Shield.

  ‘Oh, I lent her what she needed!’

  ‘I suppose she did not think the loss of her baggage of sufficient interest to call for explanation?’

  ‘To tell you the truth –’ began Sarah confidingly.

  ‘Thank you! I should like to hear the truth.’

  ‘To tell you the truth,’ repeated Sarah coldly, ‘she had a fright, and the bandboxes broke loose.’

  ‘What frightened her?’

  ‘A Headless Horseman,’ said Sarah.

  He was frowning again. ‘Headless Horseman? Fiddle-sticks!’

  ‘Very well,’ said Sarah, as one making a concession, ‘then it was a dragon.’

  ‘I think,’ said Sir Tristram in a very level voice, ‘that it will be better if I see my cousin and hear her story from her own lips.’

  ‘Not if you are going to approach it in this deplorable spirit,’ replied Miss Thane. ‘I dare say you would tell her there are no such things as dragons or headless horsemen!’

  ‘Well?’

  Miss Thane cast down her eyes to hide the laughter in them, and replied in a saddened tone: ‘When she told me the whole I thought it impossible that anyone could be so devoid of all sensibility, but now that I have seen you I realize that she spoke no less than the melancholy truth. A man who could remain unaffected by the thought of a young girl, dressed in white, all alone, and in a tumbril –’

  His brow cleared; he gave a short laugh. ‘Does that rankle? But really I am past the age of being impressed by such absurdities.’

  Miss Thane sighed. ‘Perhaps that might be forgiven, but your heartlessness in refusing to ride ventre à terre to her death-bed –’

  ‘Good God, surely she cannot have fled the house for such a ridiculous reason?’ exclaimed Shield, considerably exasperated. ‘Why she should continually be harping on the notion of her own death passes my comprehension! She seems to me a perfectly healthy young woman.’

  Miss Thane looked at him in horror. ‘You did not tell her that, I trust?’

  ‘I don’t know what I told her. I might very easily.’

  ‘If I were you,’ said Miss Thane, ‘I would give up this idea you have of marrying your cousin. You would not suit.’

  ‘I’m fast coming to that conclusion myself,’ he said. ‘Moreover, Miss – What is your name?’

  ‘Thane,’ replied Sarah.

  ‘Thane?’ he repeated. ‘I fancy I have met someone of that name, but I do not immediately recall –’

  ‘At Mendoza’s Saloon,’ interpolated Sarah helpfully.

  He looked a little amused. ‘Yes, possibly. But do you –’

  ‘Or even at Brooks’s.’

  ‘I am certainly a member.’

  ‘My brother,’ said Sarah. ‘He is at present in bed, nursing a severe cold, but I dare say he will like to receive you.’

  ‘It is extremely obliging of him, but my sole desire is to see my cousin, Miss Thane.’

  Sarah, whose attention had been caught by the sound of an arrival, paid no heed to this hint, but peeped over the short window-blind. What she saw made her feel uneasy; she turned her head and requested Sir Tristram to come at once. ‘Tell me,’ she commanded, ‘who are these two men in uniform?’

  He came to the window. ‘Only a couple of Excisemen,’ he answered, after a casual glance.

  ‘Oh, is that all?’ said Miss Thane in rather a hollow voice. ‘I expect they have come to see what Nye keeps in his cellars. My brother fancies it is all smuggled liquor.’

  He looked at her in some perplexity. ‘They won’t find anything. May I remind you, ma’am, that I wish to see my cousin?’

  Miss Thane, having watched one of the Excisemen dismount and go into the inn, was straining her ears to catch what was being said in the coffee-room. She heard the landlord’s deep voice, and wondered whether he had succeeded in persuading Ludovic to descend into the cellar. She looked at Sir Tristram, reflecting that he could not have chosen a more opportune moment for his arrival. She ought to get rid of him, she supposed, but he did not seem to be the sort of man to be easily fobbed off. She said confidentially: ‘Do you know, I think it would be wisest if you were to leave your cousin with me for the present?’

  ‘You are extremely good, ma’am, but I mean to carry her to my mother in Bath.’

  ‘Backgammon?’ said Miss Thane knowledgeably. ‘She won’t go. In fact, I hardly think it is worth your while to remain here, for she is set against seeing you.’

  ‘Miss Thane,’ said Sir Tristram dangerously, ‘it is quite evident to me that you are trying to prevent my seeing my cousin. I have not the smallest notion why she does not wish to see me. But I am going to see her. I trust I have made myself quite plain?’

  ‘Yes, quite,’ said Miss Thane, catching an echo of Eustacie’s voice joined with Nye’s in the coffee-room.

  It seemed as though Shield had heard it too, for he turned his head towards the door, listening. Then he looked back at Sarah and said: ‘You had better tell me at once, ma’am: what scrape is she in?’

  ‘Oh, none at all!’ Miss Thane assured him, and added sharply: ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To find out for myself !’ said Shield, opening the door, and striding off to the coffee-room.

  Miss Thane, feeling that as an accomplice she had not been a success, followed him helplessly.

  In the coffee-room were gathered the landlord, Mademoiselle de Vauban, an Excise officer, and the tapster. The Excise officer was looking suspiciously from Eustacie to Nye, and Eustacie was talking volubly and with a great deal of gesticulation. When she saw her cousin on the threshold she broke off, and stared at him in consternation. The landlord shot a look at Sir Tristram under his jutting brows, but said nothing.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Miss Thane, in answer to a reproachful glance from Eustacie. ‘I could not stop him.’

  ‘You should have stopped him!’ said Eustacie. ‘Now what are we to do?’ />
  Miss Thane turned to Sir Tristram. ‘The truth is, my dear sir, that your cousin fell in with a band of smugglers last night upon the road here, and had a sad fright.’

  ‘Smugglers?’ repeated Shield.

  ‘Yes,’ averred Eustacie. ‘And I am just telling this stupid person that it was I who came here last night, and not a smuggler.’

  ‘Begging your pardon, sir,’ said the riding-officer, ‘but the young lady’s telling me that she rid here last night to catch the mail-coach.’ His tone inferred that he found the story incredible, as well he might.

  ‘I’ll have you know,’ growled Nye, ‘that the Red Lion’s a respectable house! You’ll find no smugglers here.’

  ‘And it’s my belief I’d find a deal you’d like to hide if I knew just where those cellars of yours are, Mr Nye!’ retorted the Exciseman. ‘It’s a fine tale you’ve hatched, and Miss knowing no better than to back you up in it, but you don’t gammon me so easily! Ay, you’ve been careful to sweep the snow from your doorstep, but I’ve followed the trail down the road, and seen the blood on it!’

  ‘Certainly you have seen the blood,’ said Eustacie. ‘There was a great deal of blood.’

  ‘Miss, do you ask me to believe that you went gallivanting about on horseback in the middle of the night? Come now, that won’t do!’

  ‘Yes, but you do not understand. I was making my escape,’ said Eustacie.

  ‘Making your escape, miss?’

  ‘Yes, and my cousin here will tell you what I say is true. I am Mademoiselle de Vauban, and I am the granddaughter of Lord Lavenham, and he is Sir Tristram Shield.’

  The Exciseman seemed to be a little impressed by this. He touched his hat to Sir Tristram, but still looked unconvinced. ‘Well, miss, and supposing you are, what call have you to go riding off in the night? I never heard of the Quality doing such!’

  ‘I was running away from Sir Tristram,’ said Eustacie.

  ‘Oh!’ said the Exciseman, looking more dubious than ever.

  Sir Tristram stood like a rock. Miss Thane, taking one look at his outraged profile, was shaken by inward laughter, and said unsteadily: ‘This is a – a matter of no little delicacy, you understand?’

 

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