Miss Peterson & The Colonel (16 page)

There was no sign of the major and his men, but neither should there be. Dawkins knew his business. He would have his riflemen in place before he revealed his presence. Tethering the gelding to a convenient bush he stroked his neck affectionately. 'You must wait here, Brutus. Hopefully I shall not be gone long.'

The horse was restless, tossing his head while attempting to dislodge the reins and follow him. Simon couldn't leave his horse behind. The gelding might blunder into the line of fire and be injured. He grinned, So far, there was no evidence to suggest Dawkins and his men were even here or that the farmyard was occupied by the traitors.

He unhooked the reins and led the animal forward. He'd not travelled more than twenty five yards when he stiffened. Someone was ahead, whether friend or foe remained to be seen. His pistols, after their dip in the river, would be useless. Silently he withdrew his sword from the scabbard, patted his horse on the neck and vanished like a wraith into the bushes.

Two men walked, unsuspecting, into his path. He stepped out, knocking one senseless with the hilt of his weapon and placing the blade to the throat of the other. 'I should slit your throat for gross dereliction of duty. If you were my men I would have you flogged.' The terrified soldier shook his head helplessly, unable to form a suitable reply. 'Pick up your comrade. Major Dawkins will not be happy you were strolling about the countryside with no heed for anything apart from your need to relieve yourselves.'

Brutus arrived at his shoulder and Simon reclaimed the reins. The unfortunate troopers stumbled ahead of him, making enough noise to alert all but those who were not as deaf as a wheelbarrow.

Lieutenant Carruthers greeted his arrival with dismay. 'Colonel Wescott, what has occurred? Were these men ambushed?'

'They were. By me. Fortunately, I discovered them. I heard them coming, along with half the county.'

The two men slunk off to rejoin the other soldiers who were sitting about, obviously waiting for the scouts to return from reconnoitring the isolated buildings, when they should be cleaning their weapons or standing sentry duty. Where was the major? This was not good practice; he'd thought better of this man.

Heavy footsteps alerted him. He turned and stared grimfaced at the major.

'Colonel Westcott, glad to have you with us. I see your horse emerged unscathed from his swim.'

'Dawkins, a word with you in private, if you please.' Simon outranked this man. It was time to stamp his authority on this expedition. He strode to the far side of the clearing where the men could not eavesdrop. 'Major, your command is a shambles. I'm taking over. You have not acquitted yourself well so far.'

Instantly the major sprang to attention and saluted crisply, his former insouciance abandoned. 'I beg your pardon, sir. I shall be happy to serve under you. As the men we seek are inside the building, I saw no necessity to post sentries or to be on our guard out here.'

'Do you know that for a fact? Have you seen the horses? Have your scouts returned to tell you all six men are hiding down there? What were you thinking? Any one of them could have walked in here and murdered half your troop.'

The major coloured and made no attempt to dispute the criticism, but Simon saw anger in his eyes. This mattered not. They were both professionals. A mistake had been made but not a grievous one. Dawkins was a good soldier, but he'd become complacent. He believed having twenty highly trained men under his command sufficient to capture the six renegades.

'Post sentries. Have your men checked their weapons since they crossed the river? The traitors might be few in number but they are professionals—ex-soldiers. You can be very sure
their
powder will not be damp.'

'I shall see to it at once, Colonel Wescott.'

'When that's done, select two men to accompany you and take that book to the Horse Guards. Its safety is more important than the capture of these men.'

Dawkins nodded, saluted and marched, ramrod stiff, to do his bidding. At least the horses were well concealed. Brutus had directed his attention to where they were tethered. All he had to do now was wait until the scouts returned. He would take this opportunity to remove his boots and empty them of river water.

He was just replacing the second boot when Lieutenant Carruthers hurried across, saluting smartly before delivering his message. 'Colonel, sir, the scout has returned. I beg leave to inform you that he reports the farm
is
occupied. There are not six but a dozen horses stabled in the barn.'

Chapter Sixteen

'Send the scout to me, Lieutenant, there are questions I need to ask him.'

'Yes, Colonel. The man's reliable; he's the best we have.'

The soldier seemed little more than a boy, but the lad was intelligent and able to answer without hesitation. As Simon thought, the Bracken Hall mounts were amongst those hidden in the barn.

'Tell me exactly what you saw, did the other horses look hard pressed or were they rested?'

'Now you mention it, sir, them others were fresh as a daisy. I reckon they'd not been ridden today. There were hay and a fair covering of straw on the ground.'

'You've done well. Return to your post. We shall be moving out shortly.'

'Carruthers, have the men dried their weapons, checked their powder?'

'They have, Colonel. There are four riflemen amongst our number. I trust that will be sufficient.'

'More than enough. We outnumber them three to one. We should have them in custody within the hour.' The young officer opened his mouth to question this and then thought better of it. Simon decided to explain. 'Six of the horses belong to Bracken Hall; the other six are the animals they used to get here. They were on foot when they ambushed Miss Peterson so their mounts had to be stabled somewhere in the vicinity.'

'It's obvious now you've explained it, sir. How do you intend to flush them out?'

'Assemble the men and tell them to keep hidden. I've no wish to alert our quarry.'

A short while later, he led his borrowed soldiers down to the derelict farm. If they thought it strange that an officer of his rank was happy to slither on his belly through the undergrowth they knew better than to comment. The riflemen were positioned, the horses removed from the barn and the remainder of his troop hid themselves around the house blocking off all the exits.

They were ready. Now was the time to put the rest of his plan into action He gestured and the two nimblest men began their ascent. When they were positioned above the central chimney, they removed the bundles of twigs from their haversacks.

Simon held his breath; but they managed to strike a light, even balanced precariously as they were. The burning twigs were rammed down the chimney and a large stone placed on top of the pot. All around the farmhouse similar bundles were tossed through broken windows. One was even dropped down the chute that led to the root cellar. It was not his intention to burn down the building but to flush the traitors out. The smoke should be enough to choke them if they remained inside.

He drew his sword and crouched, ready to pounce. It would take time, but he was prepared to wait. If his strategy failed they would storm the building. Within twenty minutes, thick smoke was spiralling from every broken window. If the men didn't come soon they would be burned alive.

Coughing and swearing, the six men finally staggered out. There was no need to demand that they raise their hands and drop to their knees. They did so automatically. The prisoners were slung facedown across the saddles of their own horses and tied hand and foot. Escape would be impossible.

'Carruthers, assume command. My job is done. Take these prisoners to headquarters. Major Dawkins will be expecting you there. I have pressing business elsewhere.'

The young man saluted smartly. 'It's been an honour to serve under you, Colonel Wescott. I've designated four men to bring the stolen horses. They can follow on to London when you have dismissed them.'

'Thank you. It will be too late for them to make the journey today. Expect them some time tomorrow.' He saluted. 'Good luck, Lieutenant Carruthers. You and your men have done well today. I've not served with better.'

When he reached Bracken Hall, the light was fading. Already part of the stables were back in use, and there were lights flickering in the windows at the front of the hall itself. Jenkins was waiting to greet him.

'You got the varmints, sir. We knew you would. The squire's men are billeted in the loft. The rest of us have moved inside. It's warm and dry enough at the front of the house. Mind you, I reckon the back will have to be demolished. There's no saving any of it.'

'See that these men are fed and their horses stabled somewhere. We shall be leaving tomorrow. Now, the team is complete we can use Lord Grayson's carriage.'

'That reminds me, Colonel. his lordship arrived this morning and went straight to The Manse to collect Miss Peterson.'

'In which case we shall travel directly to Brook Street. I want Billy to bring Miss Peterson's mare. You can ride Brutus and lead your own mount.'

All that remained to do here was to speak to David. He could not depart without having matters clear between them.

*

Lydia hesitated outside her sister's chambers. She could hear voices; Edward was in there. Was this a good sign or a bad? The wall sconces were lit, the house was awake. No doubt the attending physician had been summoned. She could not dither here. She must go in and offer her support.

Her knock was so soft it got no response. She rapped again and footsteps approached the door. A stranger curtsied and stepped back to allow her to enter. Who was this woman neatly dressed in crisp grey cotton?

'My dear girl, do not look so terrified. Everything is as it should be. This is the midwife, Bletchley, she will not be needed for a good while yet.' Her brother-in-law smiled reassuringly.

'Edward, how can you be so sanguine? The baby is not due for several weeks, surely there is greater risk attached to a premature delivery?'

'Ellen was not exactly sure about her dates. You must not worry, Lydia. I asked you to come down in order to reassure you that this is not like the last time.'

He took her arm and guided her through the sitting room and into the bedchamber. Ellen rushed across to hug her. 'I told Edward not to rouse you, that you would be distressed, but he would insist and so here you are.'

'Ellen, why are you not in bed? I did not expect to see you running about the place like this.'

Her sister's laugh lifted her spirits. 'Darling girl, it shall be hours yet before I am confined to bed. Doctor Oxford is a great believer in staying active during the early stages of delivery. I have had no pains yet, so feel perfectly well.'

This was very perplexing. 'Then how do you know it is your time?'

'Come and sit down, my love, and I shall explain everything to you.'

It was decidedly odd to be sitting in the middle of the night, drinking tea and eating plum cake with Edward, Ellen and herself in their night attire, but the staff attending them dressed as for a normal workday.

Doctor Oxford had not yet been summoned; Bletchley did not think it necessary. After spending two hours with her sister and matters had not progressed, Lydia decided she would return to bed. Obviously things were straightforward, both mother and baby were healthy and she could sleep knowing everything was as it should be.

But she was now wide awake. However hard she tried, she could not settle. Her mind constantly turned to Simon. Despite Edward's assurance that capturing the six men would be routine for a soldier of his calibre, she could not help worrying for his safety. This was, surely, another reason not to marry a man engaged in such a dangerous profession? She would be constantly on edge, expecting to be told he was fatally injured in some battle or other.

She would get up; there was no point remaining where she was. It would be dawn soon—she would take a walk around the gardens until the boys were awake. She had agreed with Edward that she would take them to see the menagerie at the Tower that morning. They would have a midday meal at Grillons Hotel; they were famous for their ices.

This would mean the modiste would arrive in her absence. Martha would take her measurements and that would have to suffice. Lydia had little interest in fashion and relied on her maid to keep her looking smart. There would be ample opportunity to worry about replacing her clothes when Ellen was safely delivered.

*

The excursion with her nephews was a success—the animals fearsome, the Tower impressive and the ravens satisfyingly black. However, the ices eaten at the hotel were what George and Arthur enjoyed the most.

With some trepidation, Lydia returned to Brook Street. All the reassurance in the world could not remove her doubts. Would Ellen be delivered safely by now?

'Look, Aunt Lydia. Uncle Simon has come back in papa's carriage. Do you think he killed anyone with his sword?'

'Don't be so bloodthirsty, George. I trust that you do not intend to ask him any such thing.'

The little boy grinned. 'Course not, but he can tell us what happened, can't he?'

She was relieved that they appeared to have forgotten about the imminent arrival of a baby brother or sister in the excitement of seeing their uncle.
Her
pulse had only just returned to its regular beat when their vehicle arrived at the front door.

Allowing the boys to descend first with their nursemaid gave her a few more minutes to compose herself. She deliberately took her time, submitting to Martha's ministrations without comment. The longer she remained inside, the more likelihood that
he
would not be in the entrance hall obliging her to speak to him.

The heated exchange in which they had both repudiated any interest in each other was fustian—he was not the sort of gentleman to fall in and out of love like a young boy. Inevitably, he would wish to renew his courtship; he would not give up easily.

Whatever her personal feelings, however much she loved him, she would be doing him a grave disservice if she accepted his offer. As she climbed the steps, she rehearsed what she would say to him if he did get the opportunity to converse with her in private. She must make it quite clear before she was forced to refuse him, that she had no wish to traipse around the world with no home of her own. That should be sufficient for him to keep his distance.

The children had vanished and the vestibule was silent...too silent. A sick dread filled her. Something was wrong. Gathering her skirts, she raced upstairs and along the passageway to Ellen's apartment. As she raised her hand to knock she saw Edward sitting on the window seat, his head in his hands.

With heavy heart, she approached him. 'Edward, what is wrong?'

He raised his head, his eyes glittering and his cheeks pale. 'My dear, there has been an error made on the part of the physician. Ellen is carrying twins again. There could be complications and I cannot go in to see her.'

'There's no need to worry unnecessarily, Edward. She has been so well all through her term, unlike last time when she was sickly. There will be a happy outcome, I am sure of it.'

'I pray that you are correct. It will be several hours yet before we have any news. Simon has just returned. I shall persuade him to play a game of billiards. It might take my mind off things.'

'That's an excellent notion. Perhaps I shall take the boys to the park to fly their kites. It's a perfect day.'

He stood up and accompanied her to the door of her apartment. 'That reminds me, my dear. Your groom accompanied Simon and has brought your mare with him.'

Lydia waited for him to disappear before hurrying downstairs. Billy could give her news from home. Her nephews had been exhausted by their jaunt. Her suggestion that she take them to the park had been merely a ruse so Edward was not aware she would be alone with her worries all afternoon.

Billy was not to be found and she didn't like to send a stable boy to search for him. Pegasus was well and pleased to see her mistress and she promised the mare she would borrow a riding habit the next day and take her for a gallop in the park. The house was not somewhere she wished to be at the moment. She spent the remainder of the afternoon wandering around outside.

*

'Sam, I'm going to see the boys before rejoining Lord Grayson.'

'Very well, sir. I believe I saw Miss Peterson heading for the stables a moment ago.'

Simon ignored the comment. The last thing on his mind at the moment was pursuing their relationship. Until Ellen was safely delivered, his own interests must be put to one side. No doubt Lydia would be checking on her beloved mare and catching up on news from Bracken Hall.

Arthur and George were unaware of the drama unfolding on the floor below their nursery. They were full of their visit to the Tower but mainly talked of the ices they had tasted. He left them contentedly playing with their toy soldiers and promised to return to see them before they retired for the night.

He'd had little to do with children of any age, but spending time with his nephews made him realize how empty his life was. Perhaps it was time to have his own family, purchase an estate and resign his commission. He could hardly credit that in the space of two weeks he was contemplating abandoning the army. Now would be an ideal time. With Napoleon out of the way there would be little necessity for someone like him.

He still had ten weeks' leave, plenty of time to make a decision about his future. He was a man of action. Would he be able to settle to the mundane routine of everyday life on a country estate? He shrugged; he would not worry about it for the moment but concentrate on offering what support and comfort he could to his brother at this worrying time.