Marrying Miss Martha (33 page)

Although it hadn’t snowed since the blizzard, the moors were still blanketed in white and that made escape impossible. Besides, she didn’t have any proper clothes. You couldn’t trek across the snow in a nightdress and shawl. And their captors were always extremely careful when they brought food and drink or took away the slops, so neither she nor Peter could work out a way to get past them. Even the window was nailed shut and the door was solidly built, always locked.

“I’m useless to you,” he said suddenly from beside her.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I can’t find a way to rescue you.” He let out one of his bitter, unhappy laughs. “I’m useless at everything I try. You should pray that no one makes you marry me.”

Her heart went out to him. They’d exchanged many confidences over the past few days and she’d grown fond of him. How could she not? Behind the bravado was a very unhappy man, one with little confidence in himself or his abilities—but who’d protected her in the only way within his power. She’d grown to love him, but he wouldn’t believe her when she said so. “I keep telling you that I
want
to marry you, Peter, and I mean it. I think Ben will try to prevent it, but I shan’t let him stop us.” After a moment’s thought, she added slowly, “Maybe we should give him reason? Sleep together as your father hoped for.”

He stared at her in shock then a sad expression settled on his face. “No. I won’t do it, hard as it is to resist you. In that at least I shall have something to be proud of.”

“Don’t you
want
to love me?”

“More than anything, my darling girl. And if I were a better man, if I had anything—anything at all!—to offer you, I’d ask your brother’s permission to marry the minute we get back. But I’ve nothing, Georgie.”

“Couldn’t you learn to do something, even work in the mill with your father? Perhaps if you showed yourself capable, he’d let you make some changes there.”

“I doubt it. He’s a cruel, ruthless man, interested only in making money.”

“Then we’ll have to find you something else to do,” she said firmly. “If you really do want to marry me, that is.”

His face was so full of love she could have no doubt he meant what he said. When he drew her towards him and kissed her, she went willingly. If he loved her like this, with her hair a mess, only a torn nightgown to cover herself with, then it was truly love. Something inside her eased at that thought and she raised one hand to caress his cheek and hair. “We’ll work something out,” she said confidently. “I’m not giving you up.”

“You almost make me believe it’s possible.”

They went to stand at their favourite spot by the window, arms round each other’s waists, staring out as they often did at the moor, watching the patterns of light play across them as cloud shadow was followed by sunlight and then by shadows again.

Only today they saw something moving across the snow.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing.

“It looks like—it is!—men’s heads. Someone’s coming up the slope towards the farm.”

“Could it be rescuers?”

“I don’t know. I hope so.” And he didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry at the thought of rescue. His time with her had been sweet, so very sweet.

The farm was a small place, one storey high, built of whitewashed, plastered stone with a grey slate roof and set in a shallow depression below the road. The whitewash was patchy with mould and looked grey against the dazzling white of the snow. In a few parts the plaster had broken off, exposing the stonework beneath.

As they got closer, Ben let out an exclamation. “Look! There’s a coach outside the back.”

“This must be the place, then,” Daniel said.

Snowdrifts in a hollow forced them to tramp further round the walls so that they approached the farm from the front again.

“They must have seen us by now,” Ted muttered.

“Well, according to Hepzibah, we outnumber them, so—”

A shot rang out, ploughing into the snow in front of Ben.

“Take cover!” he yelled, pulling Martha down behind him. When he’d checked that the other men had sought shelter in the lee of a nearby wall, he turned to gaze at her and say grimly, “If you don’t promise to stay here and leave this to the men, I’ll tie you up myself.”

“I’ll come no further, I promise you,” she said quietly. “It’s afterwards you’ll need me. And Ben—”

“Yes.”

“—be careful yourself.”

A moment longer he stared at her, then, satisfied she meant what she said, he nodded and moved on.

* * * *

Peter and Georgie heard Hobb call out from somewhere in the house and the outside door banged open.

“They’ve seen them too,” she said. “What if they send them away again, pretend they haven’t seen us? They’ll come in here and keep us quiet, I’m sure.”

Peter stepped away from her and went to get the chair, setting it under the door, their only form of privacy and that a dubious one. “I don’t know how long that’ll keep them out for, but we have to try.”

“Let’s put the bed behind it as well, and the chest of drawers. Then let’s break the window and scream for help.”

“You’re indomitable.”

She laughed aloud. “Come on. Let’s do it!”

* * * *

In the kitchen of the farm Jack was cursing under his breath. “How the hell did they find us?”

Hobb and Dirk said nothing, waiting for his instructions.

Suddenly they heard the sound of furniture being moved about inside the bedroom. “What the hell are those two doing?” Jack snarled, then glanced back at the group of men approaching the farm. “I’ll slow those sods down. You go and fetch the girl, Hobb. She’ll make a useful hostage. Leave
him
locked in the bedroom. Knock him on the head if he objects.” He picked up the pistols which were lying ready loaded on the table, sticking one in his belt and holding the other ready to use.

When Hobb tried to open the bedroom door, it wouldn’t budge. “They’ve set summat behind t’door!” he yelled. From inside he heard the splintering of glass and then two voices began calling for help.

“Kick the bedroom door down an’ shut them two up, Hobb,” Jack ordered. “I’ll deal with those sods outside.”

His henchman began to kick the door and it gave a little. He turned to Dirk. “Come and help, you!”

With two men throwing themselves against it, the door jerked open little by little until Hobb could push his way inside. He almost burst out laughing at the sight of the two occupants, clutching one another with scared expressions on their faces. “Come here, Miss Georgie! You’re wanted.”

“No.”

Peter set her behind him, which made Dirk chuckle. He left it to Hobb to deal with him while he grabbed the lass and pulled her towards the door. It wouldn’t take two of them to deal with that runt.

* * * *

Martha watched her companions creeping forward towards the house inch by careful inch, taking advantage of every bit of cover. She looked round, wondering what she could do to help. There must be something, surely? Then her eyes lit on what seemed to be a shovel handle, leaning against a wall, its lower end hidden by snow. She wriggled sideways towards it. She had only promised to go no closer to the house, after all, not to sit still. Protected by a curve in the wall, she pulled the wooden handle out of the snow and found that it was indeed attached to a shovel, a rusty old thing, but it seemed stout enough. It’d make a weapon of sorts, if nothing else. She began to edge along the wall towards the curve, wanting to get a better vantage point.

As she stared at the farm, she saw that the man with the pistol was still standing by the door. He yelled a threat to shoot anyone who came close and Ben held up one hand to prevent his men from moving forward into the line of fire.

The armed man then turned his head for a moment to yell something through the doorway behind him and from where she was standing, she saw another man came out of the house and vanish into a tumble-down outbuilding at the rear. He emerged leading two horses, which he proceeded to harness to the carriage. She suspected that this activity was hidden from Ben and the rescuers by the house.

The kidnappers were trying to escape! What could she do to prevent them? Should she go round to the other side of the building and warn Ben? She looked down again at the shovel, remembering how narrow the entrance to the farm had been. Was there time to block it with snow and prevent the carriage leaving, or at least slow it down? Coming on foot, they’d found the snow untouched near the gate, which showed that no one had left the farm since the blizzard. Perhaps she could pile it higher?

Bending low to stay hidden, she hurried back the way they had come. At the entrance to the farm she saw a broken gate leaning against the perimeter wall. It had come off its hinges and goodness only knew where the other gate was, but perhaps she could use it. If she could move it.

Throwing down the shovel, she started to drag the gate across to the entrance. At first it resisted her efforts, but as she struggled it moved a little, then a little more, then fell across the gateway, with a couple of slats falling off it. She had to jump out of the way but laughed exultantly at this. Panting, she dragged the gate a little further then began to shovel snow around it, able to tilt one end into the snow, so that the gate stood half-upright in the middle of the entrance, a clear sign to both horses and driver that they couldn’t pass.

It was surprising how quickly the pile of snow grew, because it was soft enough to let her shovel it freely. She kept looking over her shoulder to make sure no one surprised her and when she paused for rests, she listened hard. Her hands were hurting and she looked down, surprised to discover blisters. But there was no one else to continue the work so she carried on shovelling the soft white snow into a pile that grew higher by the minute in the middle of the entrance.

It wouldn’t hold them for long, but maybe it’d hold them for long enough.

* * * *

Hobb disposed of Peter with a massive blow to the chin, laughing to see him fall so easily. Dirk had already begun pulling Georgie out of the bedroom, though the little hellcat fought and struggled against him.

“Bring a blanket, you fool, or she’ll freeze to death,” Hobb said, then raised his voice to yell, “Peg, come here and help!”

Jack’s sister was in a foul mood. “I never agreed to this. Our Jack’s gone crazy, shooting at folk, kidnapping lasses. They hang you for this sort of thing, you know.”

“Only if they catch you,” Hobb snapped, sick of her whining. “You keep Madam here in the kitchen till Jack calls for her.” He forced Georgie down in a chair and she pulled the blanket round her, jerking as far away from him as she could.

“He wants you two to harness the horses,” Peg said. “Didn’t you hear him yelling?”

“Too busy getting the girl and shutting Hindley up.”

As the two men went outside Peg picked up the poker. “Give me any trouble, young woman, and I’ll knock you senseless. I’d really like to hit you, because you’ve been more trouble to me than you’re worth.”

Georgie glared at her but sat still.

When the carriage was ready Jack yelled, “Bring the girl out.”

Peg dropped the poker and grabbed Georgie’s arm, twisting it behind her to make sure she didn’t try to escape and then dragging her to the door.

Jack edged towards the corner of the building, from where he could still keep an eye on the intruders but also watch his companions. “Good girl, Peg. Bring her here to me.”

“I’ll give you ‘good girl’!” she muttered. “This’ll cost me my farm.”

“You know you hate living out here and I’ll make it up to you. Just get into the carriage and keep a tight hold of the lass when I tell you. She’s the key to our success.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

He turned to yell at the attackers, “We’ve got the girl and if you try to stop us leaving she’ll be the one to suffer.” He dragged Georgie forward to where they could see her, then pulled her back and shoved her towards Peg. “Into the carriage.”

* * * *

Ben had been edging forward a little every time he thought the villain’s attention was distracted and was now able to see the rear of the farm. He could only crouch there, heartsore, watching as his sister was led out, wrapped in a blanket that was half falling off, since one arm was twisted behind her. Beneath it she was only wearing what looked to be a nightdress. What had they done to her? Where were her clothes? She’d freeze to death in that meagre garment.

He didn’t own a gun, didn’t want to, but now wished he had borrowed one before he set out. He’d have happily shot anyone who hurt Georgie. After they’d threatened to harm her if he tried to prevent them leaving, he shouted, “If you harm her in any way I’ll find you and kill you myself.”

“What would we harm her for when you’ll pay us good money to get her back safe?” Jack mocked, suddenly deciding to hell with Noll Brindley and his plans—he’d make as much as he could for himself out of this now that they’d been rumbled, then run away somewhere no one would ever find him.

As the carriage began to move slowly out of the farmyard, Ben saw another man rush out of the house with a knife and try to cut the harness.

The largest of the villains jumped down and thumped the fellow before he could damage the harness. He fell like a stone, nearly under the horses’ hooves and his attacker kicked him out of the way before getting inside the carriage again.

“That man’s young Brindley,” said Daniel suddenly.

“It can’t be! Why would he be trying to stop them?”

“I don’t know, but he’s definitely not on their side.”

As they watched, the big man thrust Georgie forward into the gap left by the open door of the carriage. He held a knife in front of her while the one with the pistol climbed up to sit next to the driver.

Ben cursed under his breath, feeling frustrated beyond measure. “As soon as they start up the track towards the road, follow them but keep your distance,” he ordered and there were murmurs of agreement from his men.

* * * *

As the carriage rumbled slowly up the gentle slope, Dirk glanced behind and said, “They’re following us.”