Amanda Scott (17 page)

“Ah, the new marchioness. Then ’tis a double pleasure, ma’am. Not that I’d say the same of every member of every noble family hereabouts, but your husband is a fine gentleman and it is proud I am to meet his lady. There are those who make it a point to flout the law and those who don’t.”

“Mr. Petticrow,” put in Lady Henrietta, “surely you ought to take off your coat and let your shirt dry in the sun, for you are shivering, and I am persuaded that you will take a chill.”

“Bless you, ma’am, I’m not the sort of man to take his jacket off with ladies present. And it takes more than a night’s damping to do in Petticrow, as the lads will see soon enough.”

“I’m certain no one intended to murder you,” Adriana said, giving him a searching look. He was not what she had expected a riding officer to be. There were moments when he spoke like an educated man. Deciding he was merely taking pains to impress them, she added firmly, “You were quite near the path, after all, and I have been told that the smugglers only attempt to make certain you are not nearby when there is a run on.”

“Being near to a path that generally no one travels other than the lads themselves hardly shows intent for me to be found, m’lady, and as for keeping me out of the way, I am persuaded it was more than that. This lot was rough-spoken, talked murderous talk, and the odd thing was that I recognized not a single voice among them. I’ve been led down a daisy path before, more’s my shame, but this was different, I tell you.”

He could not be shaken from his belief, and both ladies soon ceased to try, putting their efforts instead into persuading him to accompany them into Burmarsh, where he could be sure of finding a cottager willing to feed him and dry his clothes. By the time they reached the village, he swore he was as dry as could be and accepted no more than a cup of hot tea and a bun from Mary Flack before taking himself off.

Their business did not take long, and the two ladies were soon on the path again, making their way back to Thunderhill. Adriana chuckled. “That poor man. It must have ruffled his dignity severely to be found in such a position by the likes of us. No wonder he insisted the men had tried to murder him.”

Lady Henrietta clicked her tongue. “You know, my dear, I am sure it is just as you say and the poor man was making more of it than it deserved, but Mary Flack was telling me—whilst you were talking with Mr. Petticrow, you know—that there was trouble last night. She doesn’t know the whole of it, but goods were taken and there are rumors of a rival gang attempting to make trouble for the local lads. I do hope ’tis only rumor and nothing more.”

“It sounds exciting,” said Adriana.

“Oh, my dear, not exciting at all. Why, I can remember my papa telling us about the dreadful Hawkhurst gang. They terrorized people all over Kent and Sussex fifty years ago, and whenever anyone got in their way, they murdered them. I don’t know what we should do if that ever happened again.”

“Well, I am persuaded you needn’t fret, ma’am. Surely in this day and age such violence would be scotched at the outset.”

So sure was she of what she said that it came as a shock to her a day or so later to learn that more rumors had spread that a gang of smugglers operating out of Sandgate, some miles to the north, was extending its scope of activity. These men were said to be under the control of a master smuggler who advocated violence to force other gangs to bend the knee to his own.

One morning shortly after Adriana heard these rumors, when the family had gathered to break their fast, Jacob burst into the breakfast parlor without ceremony and blurted, “Please, m’lord, they’ve found Mr. Petticrow staked out on the beach below the castle. He’s in a fearful state, sir, and Mr. Wittersham said I was to ask yer permission to bring ’im up.”

“Good gracious,” said Lady Adelaide with a frown, “I suppose the Gentlemen have been up to their tricks again. ’Tis a pity they will treat the poor riding officer so, but I fail to see how it’s any concern of ours, Chalford.”

The marquess looked at Jacob. “Was it a prank?”

“No, m’lord,” Jacob was pale. “’E was staked out below the tideline, sir, and when the lads found ’im, the water was near to ’is chin. They’d gagged ’im. He couldn’t even shout.”

“Tell them to do whatever is necessary for him,” Chalford ordered crisply.

O
NCE MR. PETTICROW HAD
been tucked up in a bedchamber, the doctor commanding him to stay there until they could be sure he would not fall victim to an inflammation of the lungs, Chalford ordered his family into the great hall and issued an edict.

“Matters seem to have reached such a pass that I have no choice,” he said calmly, “but to ask you all to avoid going alone beyond the castle walls until this business has been settled.”

“Very sensible,” said Lady Adelaide. “If this keeps up, free trading will go quite out of fashion. One already hears complaints that English gold is going into Bonaparte’s pockets in exchange for wines and other smuggled goods, and that French prisoners are foolishly being ferried back to France. Of course, ours get home the same way, and it is patently absurd to pay ten guineas the pound for tea when it may be had for shillings instead, or to go without silks merely because the government is so foolish as to impose unreasonable duty. Violence, however, cannot be tolerated. Do you hear, Hetta, you are not to go out.”

“But that’s ridiculous,” Adriana protested. “Oh, not what you said, ma’am,” she added hastily when Lady Adelaide bristled, “but, Joshua, you cannot expect us to remain prisoners here.”

“That was not my intention,” he said. “You may certainly go out whenever you wish, but I can no longer permit you to walk unescorted into the villages or even to drive about the countryside without proper protection. I know it will make for inconvenience, but I trust you will all obey me in this matter. I do not wish to have to worry about your safety.”

Lady Hetta nodded briskly. “I shall tell Wittersham to carry a blunderbuss, then, shall I, my dear?”

“More than that, Aunt Hetta. I want armed outriders—at least two of them—whenever you travel beyond these walls.” He turned to Adriana. “And you, sweetheart, are not to ride alone, as I know you have done when I have been unable to accompany you. Your groom is no longer sufficient protection. If you wish to ride, you have only to tell me so and I will accompany you.”

“Joshua, this is foolish. The smugglers have no quarrel with Thunderhill. Surely they will not molest us.”

“The local men are friendly enough, but we have no reason to trust outsiders. You will do as I bid.”

Adriana fumed, but she could not with any propriety debate the matter further then and there, so she held her tongue. But when Lord Braverstoke and his son paid a call that afternoon, she took the opportunity afforded by Lady Henrietta’s engaging his lordship in conversation to express her feelings to his son. The results were not encouraging.

“I must agree with Chalford,” Randall Braverstoke told her apologetically. “One cannot be too cautious. This new gang will do whatever is necessary to collect their goods.”

“Not in broad daylight, surely.”

“I know little about such things, of course, but they tell me these ruffians have attempted to intimidate the locals into joining them or at least doing nothing to hinder them. That sort of thing can be done by daylight as well as by dark, I suppose. Must hand it to the fellow behind this. He knows his business.”

Lady Adelaide, having entered the great hall in time to overhear this last statement, declared, “One does not offer praise to a proponent of violence, young man.”

“No, no,” said Lord Braverstoke hastily. “The lad didn’t mean such a thing. Tell her, Randall.”

“Certainly, sir.” He smiled at Lady Adelaide. “I was speaking objectively, ma’am. Surely the larger the operation, the greater the profit for all concerned.”

“Indeed,” retorted her ladyship, “so it is all of a piece, is it, when crime is committed for mere money?”

“Easy for her to say,” Braverstoke said quietly to Adriana while his father took punctilious leave of the aunts. “Only let her try to convince a man without it that money is ‘mere.’”

Adriana smiled, but since she was out of charity with him for failing to support her against Chalford, she said nothing to lead him to believe she agreed with him. Nor did she intend to stop trying to convince her husband that he was being grossly overprotective. That evening, however, when they were alone, her attempts to beguile him into changing his mind, particularly with regard to her riding, proved singularly unsuccessful.

“Your safety is a matter of primary importance to me,” he said, kissing her. “I know what can happen; you do not.”

“Then tell me, sir, for I cannot think how I might be in the least danger. This quarrel is not of our making.”

“It does not matter whether the quarrel is ours,” he said patiently. “The danger is real. Now, come to bed, sweetheart. We’ve better things to do than to bicker over smugglers.”

She obeyed reluctantly, annoyed as always by his casual assumption that he had only to make a decision and she would obey, but as usual, it was not long before he had caused her to forget her discontent. The next morning her frustrations were back in full force, however, for it was a magnificent day, perfect for riding, but when she told Chalford that she would like to have her mare saddled, he shook his head regretfully.

“I know I promised to put myself at your disposal, but I’ve got my bailiff coming to me at nine o’clock this morning.”

“Tell him to come later.”

“I am not so capricious. His schedule is more rigid than mine, since he has many duties to attend in a day’s time that cannot be as easily put off as mine might be.”

If Adriana had chafed before at being confined, she chafed more now, and when the morning post brought her a sprightly letter from Sally, her spirits sank even lower. According to Sally, everyone who counted in the
beau monde
who was not already resident in Brighton would be so by the prince’s birthday.

“Only listen to this bit of her letter, ma’am,” she said to Lady Henrietta, who, with a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles perched upon her nose, was busily compiling information from her inventories at the table near the south window. “She writes that Bedford is there, and Mrs. Fitz, of course, and Lord Craven, the handsome Mr. Dawlish—indeed, everyone—but this is the part that made me laugh: ‘It is whispered that the Female Jockey Club mean to get up some races of their own, due to a rage for ass-riding which prevails amongst the ladies here. A number of long-eared palfreys may be seen every morning at the end of the Steyne, ready saddled for the morning trot; and, from an early hour, the roads through the Downs and along the cliffs are covered with ladies mounted upon their donkeys, going through their exercises as regularly as any of the grooms on the racecourse.’”

“Good gracious, what will they think of next?” Lady Henrietta blinked over her spectacles. “Women racing donkeys. I shudder to think of what Adelaide would say to that!”

Adriana smiled wistfully. “It all sounds like they are having a delightful time, does it not?” With a sigh, she rang for Amos to fetch her a standish, whereupon she began at once to answer Sally’s letter. When this task was finished and the letter set aside for Chalford to frank, she sighed again, wondering aloud what she could do next to occupy her time.

Lady Hetta suggested that she might like to read a book or help sort inventories with her. “Or, perhaps,” she added when neither of these suggestions appeared to stir interest, “you might like to look at some of Adelaide’s ladies’ magazines to plan your winter wardrobe. She has sent for our seamstress, Mrs. Lymington, to come to us the third week of August.”

Adriana thanked her for the suggestion, agreed that perhaps she would do some such thing one day soon, then excused herself, saying that if she could not ride she could at least get some exercise by exploring more of the castle.

Half an hour later, she found herself climbing the spiral stairway inside the keep, listening to the rustling sounds of the owls in the chambers above. Since callers often asked to see these creatures, she had come to know them rather well, so when she encountered one small, plump specimen perched on the edge of a stair, apparently asleep in a shaft of sunlight from a nearby arrow loop, she stopped and greeted him politely.

“How do you do, Lord North?” When the owl opened his round yellow eyes and blinked at her, she felt her spirits rise and leaned back against the stone wall, careless of her dress and of the penetrating chill. “You look very wise, sir. Can you advise me?” Lord North stared, ruffling the tawny feathers around his neck and moving himself an inch to the right. Having no wish to disturb him further, Adriana sat down on a step below him, rubbing the chill from her arms and propping her chin in her hand as she turned her mind firmly to her problems.

Little thought was necessary to convince her that while she would like to know what Joshua’s feelings were toward her—indeed, what his feelings were toward almost anything—there was a matter between them more pertinent to the moment than that. Affection between them would grow or not grow over the years ahead, and she would no doubt learn to read him better as time passed, but in the meantime he had to be brought to see that he could no longer go about making everyone’s decisions for them without discussion, without asking for their opinions or considering their desires. While such autocratic behavior might have been all right when he had only siblings, servants, or aunts to consider—since they all seemed to have been reconciled, somehow, to his way—it would not do for his wife.

After some moments of this reflection, she looked at the round little owl, amused to see that he had closed his eyes again. When she chuckled, he opened one, then shut it. “You are no help, sir,” she said. “Indeed, there is no one to help me. Clearly I must take matters into my own hands.”

What was not clear was the means by which she might bring Chalford to see that her wishes were not entirely to be ignored, that it was neither selfish nor childish of her to have grown tired of being issued arbitrary orders and to want to have a small part in the process of making such decisions as most affected her. She sighed, muttering to her companion, “Your lordship, there are two things I’d really like to do. One is to visit my friend Sarah in Brighton, and the other is to learn what I can about the smugglers in Kent, but my new lord and master thinks only to bury himself in his castle, away from both danger and amusement, and he expects me to entomb myself with him. I have tried to be an obedient wife; it does not answer.”