Melinda Hammond (5 page)

‘Now, sir, will you believe that you cannot get up?’ She spoke gruffly, pulling the covers delicately over his bruised body.

He did not reply, but his ragged breathing told her he was in pain. She picked up the damp cloth and wiped his face, relieved to see the furrowed creases in his brow disappearing.

‘Oh, pray you, sir, do not attempt to get up again.’

‘But I must! I have to see—’ He sighed, as if admitting his weakness. He turned his eyes towards Stacey.

‘If I cannot go - will you go for me?’

‘M-me? G-go where?’

‘I have to meet ... a man. At the crossroads, where you found me. I am to meet him at midnight. If you are quick, he will still be there.’

‘But - but I can’t, I won’t—’

‘Then, by God, you must let me get up!’

‘No, no - wait! Why is it so important to see this man?’

‘He - has papers - information about. . .’ He hesitated, glancing speculatively at her. ‘About me. As I told Lagallan, I’ve a mind to turn respectable, as he has done, but these papers could land me in Newgate.’ Again that hard stare was bent on Stacey. ‘Will you go?’

‘But - how? I mean, if this man is a villain…’

‘Nay, Gibson’s a petty rogue, but he’s a man of his word. You’ll be safe enough, if that’s your worry.’ He drew the ring from his little finger. ‘Here, give him this and my pocket-watch. I was to give him a purse, but Barker’s friends took all I had, so he must make do with these. In any event, they’ll fetch more than I agreed to pay him. Go, lad, hurry now!’

Stacey hesitated.

‘How — how will I know this man?’

MacCauley laughed, ending in a gasp as the effort tore at his bruised ribs.

‘How many people d’ye expect to see abroad on a lonely road at midnight? Begone, boy!’ Stacey moved to the door. ‘Wait! How old are you?’

‘I’m ... I am fifteen, sir.’

‘Hmm, not a lot to you, is there? You’d better take my cane with you — now hurry!’

* * * *

When Stacey had strolled along the lane earlier that evening with Vivyan, she had been entranced by the starry night. Now, even with the moon riding high overhead in the clear sky, the world seemed a much more frightening place. The trees cast dark shadows across the road, and the silence, which had seemed so peaceful with Vivyan at her side, now seemed fraught with menace. Telling herself there was nothing to fear, she clutched MacCauley’s cane and walked quickly along the lane towards the crossroads. The road seemed much longer than she remembered, and the sudden screech of a vixen made her jump half-way across the lane. She forced herself to walk on, her heart pounding painfully against her ribs. At last the crossroads was in sight, and she saw a shadowed figure walking up and down. Calmer now that she could see her quarry, Stacey moved forward.

‘Are — are you come to meet M-Mr MacCauley?’

The figure turned towards her. He was a small man, his sharp features accentuated by the moonlight.

‘And what if I am?’

‘He is in-indisposed, and has sent me in his stead.’ Eustacia tried to make her voice as deep and gruff as possible, but to her own ears the words came out in a squeak. ‘Do you have the papers? Show me.’

The man reached into his coat and pulled out a packet.

‘They are all here. Do you have the money?’

‘No — but I have something much more valuable!’ she added quickly, as the man swore and started to return the papers to his pocket. ‘Look!’ She drew out the watch and ring. ‘These are worth far more than the agreed sum.’

The man drew back. ‘I told ‘im I wanted coin. I ain’t no fencing cove!’

Stacey shrugged.

‘The ring alone is worth a year’s wages,’ she said, carelessly. ‘It’s solid gold. But if it must be cash, we cannot trade . . .’ She turned away, holding her breath.

‘No - wait!’

Stacey uttered up a silent prayer.

‘Solid gold, you say?’ The man licked his lips. ‘And I can take the watch as well?’

‘Yes.’

‘Very well. Give ‘em to me.’

‘Let me have the letters first.’

Cautiously, they approached each other and the exchange was made. The man seemed to relax and his teeth gleamed in the moonlight.

‘Tell MacCauley I’m obliged to ‘im.’ Touching his hat, he strode off, whistling, and Stacey, after a final look at the retreating figure, took to her heels and fled back to the inn.

* * * *

Eustacia crept up the stairs and paused at the door to MacCauley’s room, trying to recover her breath after her headlong flight. After a few moments, she opened the door and went in. The candle still burned beside the bed, and MacCauley looked towards her.

‘Well, did you get the letters?’

‘Yes, they are here.’

He snatched the packet from her hands, quickly scanning the closely written pages. He threw a quick glance at Stacey.

‘Did you read these?’

‘Of course not!’

‘No, you would not do that, would you? Here, then. Put them in my coat and you may go back to bed, I have no more need of you.’ He watched her, a slight grimace creasing his brow, and as she made for the door, he called her back.

‘Yes, sir? Are you in pain? Shall I pour you a little water?’

‘Aye.’

Stacey half-filled a cup and held it to MacCauley’s parched lips. As he lay back against the pillows, she was aware that his gaze had become more intent. He grasped her wrist.

‘What do they call you?’

Stacey quickly searched her memory. Had Vivyan given her name to MacCauley? She thought not.

‘Stacey, sir. S-Stacey Charlton.’

‘Lagallan’s cousin, you say? I disremember Lagallan mentioning a cousin when we was in France.’

‘And why should you?’ said a cool voice from the doorway. ‘I don’t rattle on about every brat in my family.’ Vivyan came into the room. Stacey noticed that he was still dressed, although he had discarded his coat and his waistcoat was undone. He frowned at her. ‘How long have you been here?’

She felt the fingers on her wrist tighten.

‘Not — not long, Si — cousin.’

Vivyan glanced towards the bed. ‘So, you are awake.’

MacCauley released Eustacia and shifted in the bed, wincing slightly.

‘Aye. Did you bring me here? Mighty obliged to you.’

A slight smile dispelled Vivyan’s frown.

‘It would not be civilized to leave you cluttering the highway. Who attacked you?’

MacCauley’s gaze shifted away.

‘Didn’t see ‘em. Footpads, most likely.’

‘Do you think me a fool, Nathan? Who were you trying to trick this time?’

MacCauley grinned, gasping as the movement tore at his bruised muscles.

‘I was Barker’s umpire at the mill this afternoon, and was involved in arranging some of the bets. Unfortunately, my, er, expenses were greater than anticipated. Barker lost, and his family were none too pleased, thought I’d let their man down.’

MacCauley shivered, and Miss Marchant pulled the blankets up over his bruised chest. Vivyan’s black brows drew together.

‘Stacey, go to bed.’

Biting her lip against a sharp retort, she obeyed the curt command in silence, closing the door quietly behind her.

‘Did you pay Barker to throw the fight?’ Vivyan enquired.

‘What sort of rum cove d’you think I am?’ demanded MacCauley, offended. ‘I promised Barker a cut of the takings, and told him I’d settle up once I’d been to Town. Word of a gentleman.’

Mr Lagallan’s teeth gleamed.

‘Coming it too thick, Nathan.’

‘No, ‘tis the truth! I was
born a
gentleman, after all, and once I’ve signed the papers and have secured my inheritance, I intend to live like one. That little affair with Barker was my last deal. I’m a free man now. At least I would be, only . . .’

‘Only?’

Wry amusement gleamed in the grey eyes. ‘They took my purse, Viv.’

Mr Lagallan grinned.

‘I’ll pay your shot here, plus enough for the doctor who is coming to see you tomorrow,
and
I’ll give you your fare to London.’

‘You are monstrous generous, Viv. You have my word that I’ll settle with you once I get to Town—’

‘No!’ Mr Lagallan stopped him. ‘I’d prefer to have your word that you will keep out of my way once you get there!’

Chapter Five

The repaired coach duly arrived at The Golden Cockerel the following morning to collect Mr Lagallan and his companion. Miss Marchant looked a trifle heavy-eyed, but she was eager to talk over the events of the evening. Mr Lagallan refused to discuss anything until they were on their way. Eustacia scarcely waited for the steps to be put up before she bombarded her companion with questions.

‘How is Mr MacCauley this morning? What did he say to you - did he tell you who had attacked him?’

Mr Lagallan threw up his hands, laughing at her.

‘Gently, my child. Give me time to answer one question before you fire another!’

‘But the poor man was so bruised and battered, I thought perhaps we should have stayed to nurse him.’

‘Now I
know
your wits have gone begging! I wouldn’t wager a groat against MacCauley seeing through your disguise if he saw you for any length of time.’

Eustacia wondered what Mr Lagallan would say if he knew of her midnight dealings with the injured man. She was considering telling him the whole tale when he spoke again.

‘And why the deuce did you go into his room last night? Of all the ill-considered starts! You should have called me!’

‘He was moaning so pitifully.’

‘And you wanted to be a ministering angel. Hare-brained little ninny!’

Miss Marchant held her tongue, and Mr Lagallan’s harsh look faded as she fought back an angry retort.

‘You do well not to come to blows with me, brat! I’ll give you credit for a kind heart, my dear, but don’t waste your sympathy on Nathan MacCauley. The doctor will attend him today and I’ve paid the landlord well for his trouble, so you may put the matter out of your mind.’

Impulsively, she caught his hand.

‘You are such a kind person, Vivyan, and you have been so good to me, I do not know how I shall ever repay you.’

He laughed, squeezing her fingers.

‘Nay, child, I shall consider it reward enough if we can get you to your godmama without a scandal!’

* * * *

The remainder of the journey was accomplished with no further mishap and in good time, so that it was early afternoon when the pair were shown into the morning-room of Major Lagallan’s house in Bruton Street by a wooden-faced footman.

‘Cheer up, no one’s going to eat you.’ Vivyan nodded encouragingly at Eustacia, but although that young lady forced a smile the shadow of anxiety remained in her eyes. She was wrapped in Vivyan’s large travelling-cloak, and at the sounds of someone approaching, she clutched it even tighter about her and moved a little closer to Vivyan.

Mrs Lagallan came into the room, her ready smile upon her lips as she greeted her brother-in-law.

‘Viv, my dear! Philip will be so sorry he is not here to meet you!’ her glance flickered over Miss Marchant, and she looked back at Vivyan, her brows drawing together slightly. ‘Will you not introduce me to your companion?’

Vivyan gave his sister-in-law his most charming grin which immediately set her on her guard.

‘Caro, I need your help. This is Miss Eustacia Marchant.’ Eustacia flushed under the scrutiny of Mrs Lagallan’s steady grey eyes and she heard the laughter in Vivyan’s voice as he continued, ‘It was expedient for Miss Marchant to travel here — ah — in disguise.’

The silence stretched for a full minute before Mrs Lagallan spoke. Without taking her eyes from Eustacia, she said carefully, ‘I think you had best explain, Vivyan.’

Mr Lagallan guided Miss Marchant to a chair and obliged her to sit down. The cloak fell open, and Vivyan bit back a smile as he observed Mrs Lagallan’s look of surprise as her guest’s breeches and stockings were thus exposed.

‘Darling Caro!’ He pushed his sister-in-law gently on to the sofa, and sat down beside her. ‘I knew you would not disappoint me! Any other woman would have fallen into hysterics at this point.’

‘And I may well do so if you do not explain immediately!’

‘Very well. I was returning from Combe Charlton, having proposed to Miss Pensford, when Stacey — Miss Marchant — fell into my arms.’

Frowning at Vivyan’s levity, Eustacia judged it time to speak.

‘You see, ma’am, I was stuck, in a tree. Viv — Mr Lagallan — rescued me and, and then, because I would not let him take me home, he offered to escort me to London, which was excessively kind of him.’

‘Y-yes, wasn’t it?’ murmured Caroline.

‘Stacey has come to Town to find a certain gentleman. She thought it safest to travel as a boy, but I immediately saw through her disguise, and thought that if
I
could discover her secret so easily, on no account should she wander the country unprotected.’

‘No,
of course not.’

Observing that his sister-in-law was far from happy, he said quietly, ‘Miss Marchant has a little baggage with her, Caro. Perhaps it would be best if she changed into her gown before we continue this discussion, for I feel sure it would be more comfortable — for all of us.’

Recalled to her duty, Caroline rose.

‘Of course, how thoughtless of me.’ She glanced at Eustacia and, observing the young lady’s anxious countenance, smiled at her, saying gently: ‘Come, my dear. I will show you to one of the guest rooms and my maid shall help you to change. You must not worry, for she is the very soul of discretion…’ The two ladies left the room, but Caroline reappeared a few minutes later, and advanced upon Vivyan. ‘Now, sir, let me have the truth, if you please!’

‘No need to look so fierce, Caro. I vow I positively quake at the sight of you.’

‘Don’t try to turn me up sweet, Viv. I am inured to your charms.’

He led her back to the sofa.

‘Very well, Caroline. Sit down, and you shall have the word with no bark on it.’

Mrs Lagallan listened in silence while Vivyan described his meeting with Eustacia, and their journey to London. When he had finished, he reached for her hands, saying coaxingly, ‘I need your help on this, Caro. If you will not support us, the child’s reputation is ruined.’