Amanda Scott - [Dangerous 02] (33 page)

He did not reply. She knew she was being tactless now and mentally scolded herself. It was hardly his fault that he looked forward without any reservation whatsoever to the day when Wellington would be safe.

Collecting her wits, she said with a forced smile, “It would shock everyone very much if Mr. Gabriel
were
the ringleader, I think.”

“It would not shock Rockland,” he said lightly. “He’d be as pleased as Punch.”

“Because of Elizabeth? Good mercy, do you think he really cares for her?”

“Would it bother you if he did?”

She thought about it, but only briefly. “I don’t suppose it would. Perhaps I would feel a twinge, but only out of pique, I’m afraid. A lowering reflection, too, that I should want to keep him on my string when I don’t have more than ordinary affection for him. Despite his faults, Rockland deserves better than that.”

Antony chuckled.

“What?”

“I’ve never known anyone who speaks her thoughts as easily as you do.”

“Perhaps I should not, but—”

“Don’t stop on my account. I find it singularly refreshing.”

“Except when I blurt out things I ought not to say.”

“Except then,” he agreed.

She sighed. “I don’t suppose Gabriel
is
the ringleader.”

Smiling again, he shook his head. “I’m afraid not. He’s hand in glove with the Methodists, for one thing. Moreover, he wants salvage rights to wrecked vessels to be allotted by turn rather than by right of first boarding. His plan would no doubt save a few lives aboard the wrecked ships, but the wreckers don’t think much of it.”

“I think they enjoy the competition. Besides, if rights were set by turn, the local folks would be cut out. Now, they flock to the shore whenever a wreck occurs, knowing they will be allowed to take away what they can carry. Under Gabriel’s scheme, wouldn’t they be stealing from someone?”

His eyes glinted with amusement. “According to Gabriel and Lloyd’s of London, those people are stealing now, because if the insurers cannot recover the goods, they have to pay out a much greater sum to the owners. Gabriel wants to award salvage contracts, but he says that all too often the country people are able to get on board before any person competent to make a contract can arrive and do so. Then all goes to ruin, and what the scavengers cannot carry off they destroy.”

“I don’t pretend to understand how insurance works,” Charley said, “but I do know the local people depend a good deal on what they can salvage. You still have not said if you mean to let Michael Peryllys see you,” she added.

“I’m more concerned with my wish to see him,” Antony said.

Falling silent again for a time, they did not push the horses but varied their gaits, cantering for a time, then trotting, and occasionally increasing the pace to a gallop. Once, when they slowed to a walk after a heady run, in the near silence that surrounded them, Charley heard the hoofbeats of their grooms’ horses as a poorly coordinated echo of their own.

Glancing at Antony, she said, “Was it necessary for us to bring two grooms?”

“No.” His eyes twinkled again. “They are here to inflate my consequence. I’m hoping that if Michael Peryllys does catch a glimpse of me, he’ll be so impressed by my sartorial splendor and my entourage that he won’t look too closely at my face. I’ve taken the devil of a lot of care never to allow him to see Jean Matois, even in the poor light of most of our meetings, without at least a day’s growth of beard. Matois always has his hair hanging over his eyes, and either a slouch cap or a knitted one. I rub dirt in my hair to alter the color, and the only clothes Michael’s seen me wear are baggy fishermen’s togs. I doubt he’d see Jean Matois in Sir Antony Foxearth under the best of circumstances, but I’ve learned over the years never to take any enemy for granted.”

“I doubt if your own mother would recognize you as Jean Matois, or guess that you play two parts.”

His lips twisted cynically, and she realized that although he had once or twice mentioned his father, he had never spoken of his mother. All he said was “You recognized me. So did Letty.”

“I don’t think you ought to count Letty. She had taken quite a liking to Annabelle, you know, and she saw her in the stable before she met you in the house.”

“You had not seen Annabelle, however.”

“That’s true. I noticed more about you than just your face, I expect.” She remembered how quickly she had recognized him from the cliff top when the wreckers were claiming salvage.

He was watching her. “What is it? You’ve thought of something. Is there aught about me that is particularly recognizable to others?”

“Not really. I was just remembering the day of the shipwreck. I recognized you from a distance when you rescued Sebastian, but I’m not sure why I did.”

“Probably my clothing.”

“Perhaps.” She could not recall that he had been wearing anything noteworthy. Still, she had known him instinctively. She wondered if villains could recognize their foes as easily. She hoped they could not.

When he grew quiet again, the comfortable silence between them tempted her to ask him about his mother. She was curious to know what sort of woman she was. But that thought brought an image to her mind of her own mother, and she quickly rejected the impulse, saying instead, “We’re nearly there. Lostwithiel is just over the next rise.”

He returned a desultory response, and they chatted about the birds and the rising slopes of Bodmin Moor until they reached the crest of the hill and descended into Lostwithiel. They found James Gabriel at home, awaiting them, with four men, one of whom was the town constable. When Gabriel expressed surprise at seeing Antony, that gentleman looked down his nose at him and said haughtily, “Indeed?”

“No offense, Sir Antony, assure you! ’Twas only that I believe you had said you had other matters to attend to today and could not accompany her ladyship.”

“However,” Antony said gently, “I am here.”

“To be sure, to be sure,” Gabriel said heartily. “We’ll soon sort this out! I’ve given the matter much thought, I can tell you, and although I might not have felt the same way when I was no different from any common citizen with a daughter looking to improve herself, as mayor, one must act when one sees the need.”

“Indeed,” Antony said agreeably.

“Aye, sir. Shopkeepers in big cities may have to set strict rules for apprentices, but they needn’t do so in my town. As mayor, when I’m told a child is not
allowed
to see her parents, or they to see her, why I just bristle, my lady, and that’s a fact. Action is called for, and when action is called for, I’m your man. It don’t do to let things muddle on when they are flat wrong. A man must do what he can to change them.”

He sounded unusually vehement, but Charley agreed with him, and decided he was hoping to impress her. Perhaps, she thought, hiding a smile, he hoped she would inform Elizabeth that he was a man of action.

Catching Sir Antony’s gaze, she saw her amusement reflected in his eyes, although to anyone who did not know him well, she was certain he appeared only haughty and unapproachable.

Gabriel looked at the others. “All ready, are we? Shall we go?” He led his men up the High Street ahead of the horsemen to Angelique’s shop, but when they arrived, he halted them and approached Sir Antony. “Perhaps it would be best, sir, do I and the constable enter first and order them to produce the young ’un.”

Charley said quickly, “I would prefer to speak with Angelique first.” She looked to Sir Antony, adding, “We do not yet know that my request will be denied, sir, and I fear Jenifry will be frightened by a show of force.”

Nodding, Antony said, “No reason to exert ourselves without cause, Gabriel.”

“Begging your pardon, sir, but I don’t think you should allow her ladyship to enter yon shop alone. There might well be trouble.”

Charley slipped to the roadway from her saddle and handed her reins to Teddy. “Good mercy, I shall be perfectly safe. If I have not returned in ten minutes, you may come and fetch me.” With that, leaving Gabriel to look agape at Sir Antony, she walked quickly, and alone, into the shop.

Angelique was with a customer, examining a book of patterns. Upon seeing Charley, she left the woman and stepped forward, smiling and saying, “A good morning, Miss—Ah,
mais non,
I mistake. It is now milady,
ne c’est pas?”

“It is. Good morning, Angelique. I want to speak with Jenifry Breton, please.”

“Ah,
c’est dommage, madame,
but I cannot allow that. The rules, you know, they are very strict.”

Charley glanced at the customer, still turning over pattern cards. Quietly, she said to Angelique, “Perhaps you ought just to glance out into the street before you insist upon keeping to your rules. I think perhaps you will alter your conviction.”

The customer looked up. “Has it come on to rain since I came in? I declare, I’ve been here an age, but one simply cannot make up one’s mind what is best to do.”

“The weather is still fine,” Charley said. “Are you not Mrs. Tibbits, the linen draper’s wife?”

“I am, indeed,” the woman said. “Fancy your remembering me, Miss Tarrant. Oh, but did I not hear that you have recently married?”

Keeping an eye on Angelique, Charley responded politely. The dressmaker looked into the street, but to Charley’s surprise, she did not instantly agree to produce Jenifry. In fact, Angelique looked distraught.

“Pardon me,” Charley said, interrupting the gentle flow of Mrs. Tibbits’s polite remarks. “I think Angelique has turned rather faint.” Moving to the latter’s side, she said in an undertone, “Where is she? You can no longer refuse to let me see her, you know. Those men are quite prepared to enter and search your entire establishment.”

“Mais, je ne
—”

“English, if you please,” Charley said, still keeping her voice low. A glance showed that Mrs. Tibbits had returned her attention to the pattern cards, but Charley was certain the woman’s ears were straining. In a more natural tone, she said, “Let me take you into the back, Angelique. I am persuaded that you ought to sit down and perhaps drink a glass of water, or even swallow a dose of hartshorn.”

“Merci, madame.
I should like to sit down. Will you excuse us for a short while, Madame Tibbits.”

“To be sure,” the woman said. “Indeed, if you are not feeling quite the thing, I believe I shall return later. I want to think more about that gown before I decide.”

“
Merci, madame,”
Angelique said faintly. When Mrs. Tibbits had left the shop, she said in a firmer tone, “Jenifry is not here.”

“Thank you, but I prefer to discover that for myself,” Charley said. “You may come with me, if you like. Is your husband at home?”

“No.”

She said it so matter-of-factly that Charley did not doubt her. She felt a twinge of disappointment that Antony would have to wait to see him, would still not know for certain if Michael Peryllys was the man he knew, but at the moment, she wanted only to find Jenifry. As she turned toward the back of the shop, Bess Griffin peeped in. Quickly, Charley said, “I want to see Jenifry, Bess. Take me to her at once.”

Looking scared, the girl turned abruptly to Angelique.

With a gesture of yielding, the Frenchwoman said, “Take her to Jenifry. They will search the house if we do not produce her.”

“Oh, miss,” the girl exclaimed, looking wide-eyed at Charley, “I’m ever so glad. It ain’t right, what they’ve done to our Jenifry. If it be legal, like Mr. Michael says it be, it oughtn’t to be so, and that’s plain fact, that is.”

“Where is she?”

“Down in the cellar, miss.” Bess wrung her hands. “They said she’d been lazy and needed a good lesson, but they’ve kept her down there two whole days this time.”

“Good mercy!” Charley looked at Angelique, but the woman only shrugged.

Minutes later, when Bess opened the cellar door and dim light spilled down the steps, Charley gasped to see small Jenifry at the foot of them, tied fast to the wooden railing. The child scarcely moved when the light fell upon her, and Charley ran down the stairs, saying over her shoulder, “Run out and tell Sir Antony and the others to come in at once. They must see this outrage for themselves!”

“Aye, mistress.”

“Jenifry, speak to me,” Charley said, giving the girl a gentle shake. “It’s Miss Charley. I’m taking you out of here. Why have they done this to you?”

To her profound relief, the child’s eyes opened, but their expression seemed glazed. “Water,” Jenifry gasped.

Hearing footsteps above, Charley barely glanced up as she said to the shadowy figure at the top of the steps, “Get water for her quickly, and send someone down to help me untie her. She’s been here two days, so she’ll never be able to stand on her own, and I can’t hold her and untie the knots at the same time. Don’t dawdle!” she cried when there was no sound or movement. “Go!”

The figure turned and murmured to someone else. Then he moved toward her.

“Oh, hurry!”

“Be calm,
mon ange.
The child will recover.”

“How can you be certain? You have not even seen her yet. She looks as if she has not eaten in weeks, Antony. How could anyone do this to a child?”

He was beside her now. “Do you want me to untie the knots or to hold her?”

“Hold her. I-I’m shaking, and you are stronger.”

“Can you manage the knots?”

“I think so.” The child’s weight had tightened them, and Charley could not see what she was doing. At first she thought there was simply not enough light in the cellar, but soon she realized her tears were blinding her. Fumbling but determined, she managed to loosen the knots at last, and release Jenifry.

Antony scooped the child into his arms and carried her up the stairs with Charley hurrying in his wake. When they emerged into the front of the shop, where the light was best, they saw that Jenifry’s face was pale beneath smudges of dirt, and her eyelids drooped with exhaustion. Brushing everything off the table where Mrs. Tibbits had been looking at pattern cards, Charley directed Antony to lay Jenifry down. He obeyed, reaching for a length of blue wool draped over a chair to cover her.

One of the men handed him a cup of water. Slipping an arm beneath Jenifry’s shoulders, he raised her and held the cup to her lips. “Just a taste, little one,” he said. “Take it slowly. We’ll have you home with your mam as soon as I can arrange it.”