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Authors: Patricia Wynn

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BOOK: Jack on the Box
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“This is Davies,” Mr. Waddell said. “He’ll be the guard assigned to you for most of your ground. Even though the coaches are the property of the contractors and not the Post Office, it’s his job to see the coach arrives. He’ll give the word to go, keep you to your speed and take action if there is a breakdown. He carries the timepiece in his shoulder pouch and will report the time at each stop along the road. That way, if you don’t keep to your schedule, we’ll know about it and can take the proper steps.”

He clapped Jack on the back and added these final words: “Good luck to you, lad. You can count on Davies here. He’ll keep you to your work.”

Jack thanked Mr. Waddell and then examined the sober-looking fellow who was henceforth to be responsible for his conduct. He was relieved to find that Davies had an intelligent look about him, not like the sort of man who would fire his weapon for the pleasure of it, as so many were wont to do. Just now, he was giving Jack a careful scrutiny, too, so that Jack had an almost irrational desire to impress him favourably. He held out his hand in a friendly gesture, and Davies, after a moment’s hesitation, took it.

“Don’t look to me like a fellow what’s used to hard work,” was all he said.

Jack smiled and granted him the right of it, but added, “You needn’t worry. I can handle the reins. And a fellow in my circumstances is happy to have the work.” This answer seemed to satisfy the guard, for he simply nodded and got on with his duties.

* * * *

Jack’s uniform duly arrived and before long he was installed on a black-and-maroon coach, tastefully adorned with the royal arms and the four stars of the orders of knighthood and perched on wheels of Post Office red. The days that followed were long and hard, but they were not, as a rule, unpleasant. Starting at Oxford at 3:42 in the morning and arriving in Stratford upon Avon at 8:42, they were allowed twenty minutes to eat breakfast and see to the changing of the horses as well as to the passengers. The end of the day came just before noon, in time for dinner in Birmingham.

Happily, Jack found that he and the older guard worked well together. Davies proved to be as steady as he looked, and within a short time Jack could show him that his self-confidence on the box was more than just youthful boasting. At each stop along the way, a boy was certain to be sent from the inn with a mug full of brandy and water for the coachman, which Jack shared freely with his guard. If it were Davies and there happened to be no passenger on the roof that day, the guard would sometimes join him, abandoning his lonely seat on the rear of the coach for a bit of conversation. When his tongue was sufficiently loosened he would relate some of his experiences as guard on the mail, and Jack listened much amused. Jack was impressed as well with the guard’s honesty. He never accepted mail to carry that was not duly registered with the coach’s proprietors, though he might have made a considerable fee by contracting for it on his own.

Jack was never alone, for generally there was an adventurous young man or even a female passenger to sit the box beside him and pass the time. And he was fully occupied in keeping his horses to their demanding pace of nine miles an hour or better. It was not in Jack’s character to sit the box like the lofty individuals who so often ruled that spot. He took a certain pleasure in seeing that his passengers were comfortably seated and their baggage settled for the journey. These gentlemanly attentions were so seldom seen on the road that, at first, the passengers reacted suspiciously to them. But eventually, Jack’s friendly manner calmed their natural tendency towards wariness and engendered in them a feeling of confidence. Before long, Jack had earned the reputation of being a courteous, trustworthy driver, and the women passengers, in particular, were grateful for his solicitous care.

And all the while, Jack, whether he knew it or not, was undergoing a curious change. At first, he had cheerfully drained every mug of brandy and water that was brought to him, which helped to warm him against the weather. But he found himself so weary by the end of the day that when he arrived at his Birmingham lodgings, he tumbled right into his bed. And worse, the next morning it was all the more difficult to drag himself out of bed in the dark to have the new horses in harness by the time the coach arrived from London. Soon he accepted the offered spirits with more caution and found that his work became easier for his temperance.

Before long, too, he was faced with the problem of young gentlemen out of Oxford asking to be allowed to handle the reins. More often than not they were three sheets to the wind and would have landed Jack’s coach in the ditch had they been given the chance. Jack’s initial response had been to let them drive for a distance, as he had been allowed by many a coachman, but he was made uncomfortable by Davies’s disapproval. And the resulting screams from the passengers, when the horses were sprung, had a sobering effect.

Finally, on one particular occasion, when Jack was asked for the reins, his thoughts flew to that day’s complement of passengers. There was an older woman who had given him a sweetly confiding smile upon mounting the steps, and a younger, nervous one with a newborn baby in her arms. So, on that occasion, Jack had smiled his winning smile and simply said no.

Three months were passed in this way without a major incident and Jack could be proud of his record. He was surprised to find that he did not miss the amusements of a gentleman’s life, although there were days when a warm bath and the attentions of a valet would have been quite welcome. In fact, he settled rather quickly into the rhythm of his work and began to feel that there were advantages to being employed that he might never have realized if his father had not disowned him, however temporarily. From time to time he did wonder just when Sir Geoffrey would decide that he was worthy to be called his son again. But mail coachmen led a lordly life, after a fashion, for they were the kings of the road. All other traffic gave way for the mail, and it was the Royal Mail that carried the news of military victory to the provinces. All eyes would turn to see whether the coach carried the green laurels to signal another victory against Napoleon, and Jack was proud to be the herald of the Crown. He was not particularly eager to return to his old way of life.

It was in this happy frame of mind one morning at dawn that Jack pulled up in front of the inn in Shipston and espied a rather unusual customer.

 

Chapter Two

 

She was clearly a lady, as he could tell by the elegance of her traveling costume, but she was unaccompanied by either governess or maid. She was small, with a slight, pleasant figure, cloaked in a cashmere wool redingote after the fashion of a few years back, and her curly, chestnut-coloured hair beneath a coal-scuttle bonnet was becomingly cut
à la Titus
. As Jack hopped down from the box to receive his passengers, she approached him, anxiously clutching her reticule.

“Is this the London to Birmingham mail?” she asked.

Jack touched his forelock to her with respect. “Yes, miss. Are you meeting someone?”

“No . . .” She flushed unexpectedly. “I tried to purchase a token, but the man in the booking office said there were no more places to be had.” She gave Jack a tentative look, as if hoping he would prove the man wrong.

It went sorely against his inclination to disappoint her, but he had to shake his head. “Then I’m sorry, miss. If the seats are all taken, then I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the next coach, or take the stage.” Jack regretted these words as soon as he said them, for her eyes, which had held a small gleam of hope, seemed to fade. There was something about her, despite her small size, which suggested pluck, and it seemed to Jack that she was a person who would face any problem head on. The lines of her face gave a hint of a happy temperament and a lively intelligence, but at the moment there was a droop to her shoulders, which did not seem to belong. His answer had evidently disheartened her, although something in the resignation with which she received it informed him that she was used to disappointment.

She mused for only a moment before giving him a measuring look. He liked the clearness of her gaze.

In a voice barely above a whisper, she asked, “Could you possibly find me a place upon the roof if I pay you my passage? I will be happy to give you full fare.”

Jack suppressed a smile at this inexpert attempt to bribe him. He had to admire her courage in pursuing the matter, for he was a total stranger to her. What possibly could have happened to make her venture on a lonely trip on the mail, he wondered, when she appeared to be a lady who would travel in her own coach or private chaise.

With a fear of Davies’s disapproving reaction in mind, Jack started to tell her of the company’s rule against allowing more than three passengers upon the roof, but as he opened his mouth to speak, something in her face arrested him. The young lady was gazing up at him, if not with desperation then with something very close, still clutching her reticule tightly with both hands. Something serious was disturbing her, and sufficiently so for her to need a faster means of travel than the stage.

A cry from Davies alerted him that the coach was ready, and he must hasten. Gazing into her pleading eyes, Jack made a quick decision.

He gave her a wink, and was amused by the momentary shock that registered in her face. Speaking loudly for the benefit of the people in the booking office, he said, “I’m quite sorry, miss, but this coach is full. You had better purchase a place in the next.”

She gave him an uncertain look, but her face lit up, as he added in a hurried whisper, “I can give you a seat on the box, but I can’t take you up here. If you’ll give me your bags and walk to the edge of town, I will stop for you there. I’ll be there in less than two minutes!”

Her eyes sparkled with sudden relief. “Thank you,” she said in an answering whisper. “But you do not need to bother about my bags. They can follow me later.”

With a quick smile, she turned and hastened up the street, leaving Jack to wonder how Davies would react to this serious breech of the rules.

Once the coach was loaded with its full complement of passengers, Jack drove the horses down the few blocks to the end of town and pulled them up. A young gentleman from Oxford had secured the box seat by paying a judicious tip to the ostler. He looked at Jack questioningly as the horses stopped and the young lady stepped up to the wheel.

“Sorry, old fellow,” Jack told him, “but I must appeal to you as a gentleman to relinquish your seat to this lady. Her mother is ill, and she must catch this mail to arrive at her side as quickly as possible.”

The young man tipped his hat to the fair usurper, but spoke as one who must reluctantly point out the obvious. “I should be delighted, of course, but all the seats on the roof are bespoken.”

Jack peered behind him as if only now aware that such was the case. “I see—yes—you are quite right,” he mused aloud. “That does present a problem.” He turned back to the gentleman and looked him over gravely. “Sir, may I trust you to ride on the rear of the roof near the guard? It is against postal regulations, as you know, but in this instance I think an exception could be made.”

The young man eagerly assured him that he could be trusted, saying that nothing would be further from his mind than robbing His Majesty’s Mail, if only he might take one shot at a rabbit with the guard’s blunderbuss. Hiding a smile, Jack assured him, with perfect untruth, that he was certain Davies would be delighted to oblige, if the young gentleman would only climb to the rear and explain the situation to him.

Overjoyed by the prospect of this rare privilege, the passenger hastened to assume the forbidden seat, despite the grumblings of the three on the roof as he stumbled past them. Davies had been standing while this transaction took place, waiting with a patient frown for Jack to resume the journey. The young man spoke to him in rapid undertones, and to Jack’s intense relief, Davies merely gave him a sardonic grimace before settling himself again on his perch.

Silently hoping that his exemplary behaviour to date had purchased him the right to this one transgression, Jack jumped to the ground to hand his gentle passenger up onto the box.

But the stopping of the coach had alerted the people inside to the fact that something unusual was taking place. One woman in particular took offense at the sight of the lady waiting below. Sticking her red, pox-marked face out the window, she defied Jack to let “that creature” aboard.

The young lady glanced worriedly up at him and, in the face of the woman’s assault, seemed to be questioning the wisdom of the step she was about to take. But her hesitation lasted no more than a moment. As soon as she saw Jack’s reassuring smile, she straightened her small shoulders and, accepting the use of his arm to help her mount, climbed upon the wooden seat.

       Jack could see that she was unaccustomed to such abuse, and he admired the self-possession which had led her to ignore it. He, however, had to answer to all of his passengers. So, suppressing a sigh of annoyance at the torrent of slander continuing to emanate from the coach, he walked back to deal with the discontented woman.

“I shall have you reported to the authorities,” she threatened as he approached the door.

Jack smiled and addressed her with a marked degree of deference. “I encourage you to do so, madam. It troubles me to offend you in any way, but as I can see it, there is only one solution. I feel obliged to help the lady, who is on the way to her mother’s deathbed and cannot find any means to get there quickly on her own. I would have asked one of you to give up your seat, but I did not wish to cause you any inconvenience.”

Startled by the thought that they might be asked to give up their seats, the other passengers retired willingly from the fray. The red-faced woman seemed mollified by Jack’s unusual courtesy, but she was not entirely ready to abandon all appearance of offense.

“That’s is as may be,” she pronounced in virtuous tones, “but how are we to know you’ll keep your mind on the road—a lusty young fellow like yourself, with a girl up beside him?”

BOOK: Jack on the Box
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