The Captain's Mysterious Lady (21 page)

As she wrote, the journey in the coach came back to her. James and Sam Roker and a parson had all boarded it in London, as she and Billings had done. James had shown some concern for her and had given her his coat for a pillow. He had spoken kindly and at the inn where they stopped had paid for a tisane for her, but he had also seemed impatient, as if anxious to be at his destination. Or had she simply surmised that because he had since told her about his wife? Why was it all such a muddle?

They had been held up by high way men; she remembered that now. The robbers had worn masks, hats and cloaks, so she could not positively identify them, but they had been known to her unwelcome escort. They had conferred together while James stood with his arm protectively about her. Even then, even in the first days of their acquaintance ship, he had been looking after her, protecting her, as he had been doing ever since. The robbers had let them continue their journey and she remembered feeling exhausted and trying to sleep and then being severely jolted and James grabbing her as the coach rolled over. He had pulled her from the wreckage and tended to her. She saw again the mangled coach, the frightened horse careering up the road and Billings lying dead. And she had a bump on the back of her head that hurt when she touched it.

That was the beginning of her loss of memory, that was when her poor brain gave up on her, but it was also the beginning of the rest of her life in which James figured largely. He had brought her safely to the King's Arms, nestling like an injured bird inside his coat against his shirt. She remembered that ride in fits and starts, the warmth of him, his gentle voice soothing her, arriving at the inn
and being put to bed. Everything after that was clear as day; her aunts' efforts to make her remember; James's arrival in the village, her growing dependence on him, her burgeoning love for him which now could not be denied, but must be denied until all taint of wickedness had been washed away.

She heard a cock crowing in the yard and then the clatter of milk pails and then Susan going past her door to go down stairs. Another day had begun. Without waiting for the maid to come with her hot chocolate, she dressed and went down stairs to eat her break fast with the servants in the kitchen, which she often did. Her aunts were still in bed and she did not want to put the servants to the trouble of serving her in the dining room. Besides, she liked their company, had always enjoyed listening to their gossip and hearing news of the doings of the villagers.

After break fast, she fetched out her sketching materials and took them into the back parlour where the light was good and set about illustrating her memories, trying to capture the likeness of those two men. It was sombre work and made her feel low in spirits. She could be doing something more useful, she told herself, something to make her feel better. Looking at her drawing, she knew she would recognise those men if she saw them again. Did she know their names? Had she ever known them? Her aunts' visitors had called them selves Miller and Wade, but they could easily have invented those along with their claim to be architects. They held the key and she had to face up to them. James seemed to think they were some where in the village. Could she find them?

Hearing the door knocker, she thought it was James and was unprepared when a footman came and told her Mr Gotobed desired a few minutes of her time.

She was inclined to say she was not at home, but was
curious about what Duncan had said when he lay dying. She bade the footman to show him into the drawing room and, in the absence of her aunts, who were making calls in the village, told him to send Susan down to her.

She had settled herself on a sofa with her hands in her lap, when Martin Gotobed came striding in, swept off his tricorne hat and executed a flourishing bow. He was wearing yellow breeches, a green coat and a yellow-and-brown striped waist coat. She thought he looked like some strange beetle. ‘Madam, your obedient.'

‘Mr Gotobed.' She rose but did not curtsy, waiting for him to state his errand, giving him no prompting by asking how he did. Susan slipped into the room and took up a station just inside the door. He seemed unaware of her.

‘Madam, I hope you are well,' he began.

‘Very well, sir, I thank you.' She did not ask him to be seated and, as she remained standing herself, he could do nothing but stand facing her. He was no taller than she was, which put him at a disadvantage.

‘And your journey to the capital? I hope it proved beneficial,' he enquired.

‘How did you know I have been to London?'

‘Why, madam, this is a small village, everyone knows everyone's business. Captain Drymore was enquiring about carriages and horses, so…' He shrugged.

She allowed herself a twitch of a smile. ‘To be sure. In answer to your question, yes, it was of some use.'

‘Ahh.' He paused. ‘Then you will have learned of Mr Macdonald's demise.'

‘Yes.' She was angry now and did not bother to hide it. ‘I also learned you were with him when he died. You could have had the civility to tell me that when you first came here.'

‘I was not with him at the moment of his death, but he
was certainly beyond recovery when I left him. I would have told you, dear lady, but I could hardly get near you for your body guard.'

‘My body guard? Do you mean my aunts?' she asked.

‘No, I meant that thief taking mariner who seems to have attached himself to you like a leech. I did try to warn you…'

‘So you did, but as you see, he did not arrest me,' she said tartly.

‘Heaven forfend!'

‘Mr Gotobed, why have you come?'

‘Why, to convey your husband's dying words to you, and to ask you a question,' he said.

‘Go on. I am listening.'

‘His last words were of you. He asked me to tell you that. He said he had sent you to Blackfen Manor where he hoped to join you…' He heaved an in sincere sigh. ‘Alas, it was not to be. When he realised he would not live to keep his word, he asked me to come to you in his stead. He desired me to look after you.'

‘I do not need anyone to look after me, sir. And if I did, I have friends and relations who take good care of me.'

‘Nevertheless, that was his dying wish and I come to keep the promise I made him. He was sure you would be surrounded by unscrupulous men, from whom you would need safe guarding. Therefore, I come in all humility to offer you the protection of my name and my strong right hand.'

She gave a gurgle of laughter, quickly sup pressed. ‘Mr Gotobed, are you asking me to
marry
you?'

‘I am.'

‘I cannot believe you are in earnest.'

‘Indeed, I am. A promise made to a dying man is a
promise that must be kept, and may I add that it is one I shall take pleasure in fulfilling,' he said, smiling at her.

‘Then I am sorry to disappoint you, sir, but I have no wish to marry you. I hardly know you, but from what I have learned, you have not always lived on the right side of the law,' she said bluntly.

‘I was wrongly and wilfully accused and found not guilty. And to be sure, you have no reason to condemn me, when you are not the little innocent you would have everyone believe. If Captain Drymore has not arrested you before now, it is because he is waiting for you to lead him to bigger fish. Marry me, and you will be safe. When the knot is tied, we will go abroad where English thieftakers cannot touch us,' he urged.

Susan gave a gasp, making him swing round to glare at her. She glared back, ready to defend her mistress, with tooth and nail if she had to.

‘Mr Gotobed,' Amy said, smiling at Susan—she looked so fierce. ‘I wish you to leave. Now, at once. And please do not return.'

‘I am afraid you will come to regret your decision, dear lady. Others will come who are not so careful of you. Remember that, will you?'

He bowed his way out and Amy sank back on to the sofa, shaking like an aspen. Susan ran to her. ‘My poor lamb,' she said. ‘I never heard such impudence. There, he is gone now, you may be easy.'

Amy found herself laughing and crying at the same time. ‘As if I would con tem plate marrying that…that insect! But, he has set me in turmoil again. He seemed to be threatening me and I wish, oh, how I wish, he had not spoken like that about the Captain and bigger fish. Gotobed's up to something…'

They turned, almost guiltily, as James came into the
room. He bowed. ‘Good morning, ladies.' He tried to sound cheerful, but the sight of Gotobed strolling nonchalantly across the draw bridge had severely strained his good humour. And Amy's tear-streaked face did nothing to make him feel better.

‘Good morning, Captain.' Amy rose and curtsied, while Susan hurriedly dipped her knee and disappeared. She evidently did not think it necessary to chaperon her mistress when the Captain called.

‘How are you today, Amy?' he asked gently.

‘I am well. I was sketching.'

He smiled; she was evidently not going to tell him what that muckworm had said to her. ‘More cherubs?'

‘No—this.' She reached across the table to pick up her sketch book and handed it to him.

It was of the kitchen of her house in Henrietta Street. There were two men sitting at the table, two easily recognisable men. A third, the man Billings, stood at the door. A fourth, who could only have been Amy's husband, stood before the hearth, brandishing a knife. She had not drawn herself. ‘What is this?'

‘What I have remembered.'

‘Has it all come back to you?' he wanted to know.

‘Some of it,' she admitted.

‘Is that Duncan Macdonald with the knife?'

‘Yes. There was a violent quarrel and he tried to defend him self from the others with it, but he was no match for them and in the struggle to take it from him, he was wounded,' she told him.

He breathed a huge sigh of relief. ‘Thank God for that.'

‘What do you mean? He died!'

‘Yes, and I am sorry for your sake, but now you know how foolish you were to blame yourself for his death.' He
drew her down on to a sofa and sat beside her, holding her hand. ‘What happened after that?'

‘I helped Duncan to bed and bound up his wound,' she said. ‘It was then he whispered to me to come here. I did not realise at the time his wound was mortal or I would never have left him.'

‘I have been told it would not have killed him if it had not become infected while he was in prison. As I mentioned to you before, they are not the cleanest of places.'

‘Oh. I did not know that. I crept out of the house in tending to find help, but the man, Billings, followed me.' She went on to tell him what she had written that morning, about the journey and the high way men. ‘They were all coming to Highbeck,' she said.

‘That much we have deduced,' he said. ‘The question is why. What do they want? Have you remembered that?'

‘No. I was going to look for them and ask them what they were doing in Highbeck.'

He was alarmed. ‘Amy, you foolish, foolish girl. Don't you know by now, those men are dangerous?' He tapped her drawing. ‘This proves it. If they could do that to your husband…'

‘Then I will ask Mr Gotobed. I doubt he would harm me.'

‘Amy! Amy, my love, you must not do anything of the kind. It would be madness. He is no less dangerous than the other two. Just because he pretends to be a gentleman does not mean he
is
one.'

Had he really called her his love? Her heart leapt and then subsided. She had no right to hope. ‘But I have to know,' she insisted.

‘I thought you had decided to let sleeping dogs lie? Go on from here, we agreed,' he reminded her.

‘But I cannot go on. I cannot pretend all is well when
I know it is not. And neither can you. Do not tell me you were unconcerned when my aunts said two men had been to the house because I will not believe you.'

‘I am concerned, but I beg of you, let me deal with it.'

She gave a cracked laugh. ‘In your capacity as thieftaker?'

‘Yes, if you like.'

‘And having got them, what will you do with me?'

‘Shake some sense into you,' he said.

‘Is that all?'

‘No,' he said, smiling. ‘But the rest can wait. We are going riding. Go and change. I will wait for you here.'

She was not ready to give up, but he could be obdurate as she knew very well and arguing with him would do no good. She jumped up and left him to do as he asked. He picked up the drawing to study it. She really was a talented draughtsman; the men were easily recognisable. If Smith and Randle saw the sketch, they would assume she had remembered all and that would put her in even more danger. He folded it and put it into his pocket.

W
hile out riding with James, under the wide fen skies, surrounded by a countryside she loved, Amy felt more at peace. She knew she had always been happy at Highbeck and that her time married to Duncan was something best left for got ten. She did not think she had ever loved him, certainly not as she loved James Drymore. The realisation of that had come upon her slowly, day by day, as they had spent time together, learning about each other. He was everything she could wish for in a man: handsome without being vain, honest and principled, but not hard. He was also gentle and kind and protective. She knew she could trust him and what Gotobed had said was nonsense. She wished he felt the same about her, but she did not think he did. He had adored his wife, whom his sister-in-law had de scribed to her as very beautiful and good. ‘They were so in love,' she had told her. ‘I doubt he will ever get over her death. He always wears the cravat pin she gave him.'

James noticed how with drawn and quiet she was, which was not to be wondered at. Remembering the carnage in Henrietta Street, and then sitting down and deliberately
trying to illustrate it, must have taken all her nerve. And then to have that odious Gotobed arrive to pester her was the outside of enough. He wondered if she would ever tell him what the man had said without prompting. He waited until they were walking their horses along the side of the fen, before he mentioned the subject. ‘You had a caller this morning.' He spoke lightly.

‘Mr Gotobed, yes.'

‘Did he upset you?'

She turned towards him. ‘Upset? No, I was angry and then amused. He had the temerity to make me an offer…'

‘An offer?' he repeated incredulously. ‘You surely do not mean an offer of marriage?'

‘Yes, I do. He said it was Duncan's dying wish that he should look after me.'

‘Do you believe that?' he asked.

‘I do not know what to believe.'

‘Amy,' he said seriously, ‘you will take care when I am not with you, won't you?'

‘Take care?' she repeated.

‘Yes. Gotobed wants something from you, something you probably do not know you have, but he will do anything to get it.'

She was attentive now. ‘How do you know that?'

‘I am guessing, just as I am guessing those two men who seem to appear and disappear at will, also want something, if not from you, then from the house. If your husband told you to come here, he might also have told Gotobed why.' The man was lodging openly at the King's Arms, but no one knew where the other two were staying, probably in some hedge tavern some where, though they seemed able to put on the appearance of gentlemen when it suited them. He wished he knew where they were and what they
planned. He and Sam had searched the grounds and every barn, cart shed, stable, even the tower, although there was nothing there but an empty cone of brick with a winding stair to its top from which they could survey the countryside for miles. They had found nothing and no one.

‘Perhaps there was no reason except that Duncan knew I would be safe here,' she suggested.

‘I pray to God you are right.'

‘You are frightening me.'

‘I do not mean to. There is nothing to fear so long as you do not admit strangers to the house and take care to lock all doors and windows when you retire for the night.'

‘You will suggest pulling up the draw bridge next.' She laughed to lighten the atmosphere, which had become very sombre.

He responded with a wry smile. ‘I doubt you could make it work. It must be an age since it was last used.' He wanted to search the house, but as he had no idea what they would be looking for, he refrained from suggesting it. Sam's idea of the Arkaig treasure seemed too far out to be given credence.

‘Do not say anything of that to my aunts,' she said. ‘It will alarm them. I will instruct the servants to take especial care and go round myself last thing at night to make sure all is secure.'

‘Good. And do not admit Mr Gotobed again.'

Although he had spoken without inflection, she detected something in his voice that made her turn and look at him. He was staring straight ahead, his hands on his reins, apparently relaxed, but his jaw was rigid and she noticed him swallow hard. He cared! Cared enough to be a little jealous, perhaps?

‘He spoke of leaving the country when we married,'
she said. ‘He seemed to think I needed to escape the law and a certain thief taker.'

He turned sharply towards her and realised she was smiling. Her lovely eyes were looking at him in a teasing manner and he laughed at himself to think that she could roast him into betraying his feelings. Not that he had not done so already, in a hundred different ways, even before he realised it himself. He knew now, without a shadow of doubt, that he loved her and could not live without her, that she was his whole life. But before anything could be said, there were obstacles to overcome and he hoped and prayed they would not be in surmountable.

‘Do you want to escape?' he asked quietly.

‘Do I need to?' she countered.

He reined in and dismounted, then went over to her and held out his hand to help her dismount. She slid from the saddle into his arms where he held her. ‘Not from me, you do not.'

‘I am glad of that.'

‘Tell me, you did give him his turnabout, didn't you?'

She looked up into his face and smiled because he looked so severe. ‘Did you think for one minute I would entertain the idea of marrying that…that creature? He makes my flesh crawl.' She shuddered to prove it.

He laughed and the next moment he was kissing her. He simply could not help it. Her face tip tilted towards his; her shining eyes, which he had seen in all her moods, from joyous to troubled, and her rose-coloured lips, oh, those kissable lips, invited him to succumb. And this time he did.

She knew she had asked for it and could not even pretend to be angry with him. She put her arms up and round his neck so that her fingers teased his hair out of its queue, and whole heartedly kissed him back. Everything else was
for got ten in the wonder of it. His mouth was firm but gentle, his lips teasing hers apart. Her whole body was quivering with unalloyed joy. It was some time before either drew breath and then it was because they heard a cackle behind them and both swung round guiltily to face Widow Twitch, who was standing between their horses with the reins of both in her hands.

‘Well, my beauties,' she said, looking from one red face to the other. ‘Is all resolved?'

‘What do you mean?' Amy asked, straightening her hat, while James endeavoured to tie his queue back into place.

‘Why, your searches. Has your memory returned and has the Captain found the peace he craves?'

‘Yes,' James said.

‘No,' Amy said. She was in a dream. Could a man kiss like that and awaken in her all kinds of strange responses, if there was not something special between them, some spark which would take so little to ignite? She knew it for love, but did he?

‘Oh, I see you do not agree.' The old lady chuckled. ‘You must endeavour to do so soon or there will be more misunderstandings, more calamities. Did the rosemary work?'

‘No, it gave me night mares,' Amy said. ‘I wish I had never put it under my pillow.'

‘But the night dreams were necessary for you to move forwards, my dear. There can be no standing still and no going back wards—'

‘Away with you, woman,' James put in. ‘You state the obvious. There is nothing magic about what you say.'

‘I never claimed to deal in magic, only in wisdom. I am a wise woman, not a witch.'

He laughed. ‘I stand corrected. Now, if you will excuse
us, we will continue our ride.' He took the reins from her and turned to help Amy mount, half-glad, half-sorry they had been interrupted before he lost all sense of propriety. But the woman was right; they had to resolve their outstanding problems before they could go forwards. And he was becoming more and more impatient.

‘Those you are seeking can be found in Ely,' the old lady said.

He was about to mount, but turned back. ‘What do you know of them?'

‘I was told you had been asking for news of them. I heard them talking outside the King's Arms yesterday afternoon while they were waiting for the stage.'

‘Where in Ely?' he asked eagerly.

‘I do not know. They didn't mention it.'

‘Oh, James,' Amy said. ‘You think those men were my aunts' visitors, don't you? And they are the ones I drew.'

‘Probably,' he said, putting his hand over hers as they gripped her reins. He did not say he knew who they were. It would only add to her distress. ‘Come, let us go home.'

He mounted and they rode back towards the Manor in silence. If Smith and Randle were in Ely, he would root them out and arrest them; they would not escape again. Amy must not suffer as poor Caroline had done. Amy would take heed of his advice to make all doors and windows secure, but ought he perhaps arrange for someone to be on guard at night?

They entered the court yard and were surprised to see a mountain of luggage being unloaded from a carriage. Both vehicle and horses were covered in fine dust, as if they had travelled a long distance. Hurriedly dismounting, they went inside to find Sophie and Harry Portman ensconced in the drawing room with the aunts, drinking tea and eating cakes. Sophie was wearing a wide-panniered gown in yellow-and
green striped taffeta, while Harry's coat was in pale blue satin embroidered in silver. It had rows of silver buttons and must have cost him all of twenty guineas. Both wore white powdered wigs.

‘Mama!' Amy exclaimed, running forwards to greet her. ‘What are you doing here?' She turned to Harry, who had risen on her entry. ‘I beg your pardon, Mr Portman. How do you do?'

He bowed with a flourish. ‘Mrs Macdonald, your obedient.' He turned to produce a slightly less formal bow to James. ‘Captain Drymore, your servant, sir.'

James returned the bow. ‘Good day to you, sir.'

‘Sit down, everyone,' Harriet instructed them. ‘Captain, you will take tea?'

‘I shall be de lighted, thank you.'

Everyone found seats. ‘Your mother has caught us unawares,' Harriet said, addressing Amy. ‘We had no idea she was coming.'

‘I have been worrying about Amy,' Sophie explained. ‘She seemed so unwell when we saw her and I felt I should have done more for her…'

James thought this sentiment a little late in coming, but supposed it was better late than never.

‘I under stood,' Amy said. ‘And to be sure I was made welcome at Colbridge House.'

‘So I discovered when I called there. I did not know you had decided to return to Highbeck so soon. But no matter—
The Beggar's Opera
has finished its run and I do not start new rehearsals for two weeks, so I decided to come and see how you did. And Mr Portman was so good as to give me his escort.'

‘The servants are preparing rooms,' Harriet said. She was a little stiff as if she were not sure she welcomed the visitors. James wondered if she had taken his warning to
heart about not being too hospitable and was obeying it to the letter. Or she disapproved of her sister's relationship with Portman. Or perhaps she was afraid Sophie meant to take her niece away. She need not worry on that score; if Amy went anywhere it would be with him. But nothing like that could happen until the whole mystery was solved and everyone safe from harm.

He stayed a few minutes, taking part in the general conversation, the enquiries about how the journey had been, the exchange of news, both of the success of the opera, the visit to Drymore Hall, which made Sophie green with envy, and the doings in the village, without anyone mentioning Amy's loss of memory. Then James took his leave, but not before Harriet had bidden him back to dine with them. ‘We shall dine late,' she told him. ‘Will six suit you?'

‘Certainly, Miss Hardwick. I shall look forward to it with pleasure.'

 

‘Now, Amy,' her mother said when he had gone. ‘Tell me all your news. Has the Captain proposed yet?'

‘No, whatever gave you the idea he would?' She felt the warmth rise to her cheeks and knew her face had turned scarlet.

‘Why else has he stayed by you so long in this out-of-the-way place? And bringing you to London and taking you to Drymore Hall. Why would he do that, if he did not mean to propose? He wanted his family's approval,' her mother said complacently.

‘Mama, you know why he took me to London, and as soon as we had done what we went to do, he brought me back. We stayed at Drymore Hall to save having to put up at an inn. He has lost a wife he loved and I am sure he has no intention of remarrying yet a while and certainly not
to me. I have nothing to recommend me. Besides, I have recently been made a widow.' All of which was said as much to convince herself as her mother.

Sophie looked sideways at her and smiled. ‘You do not sound very convincing to me.'

‘Sophie, leave the girl be,' Harriet commanded. ‘The Captain has been doing what Lord Trentham sent him here to do—help Amy remember and find out what happened to her husband.'

‘We know what happened to him,' Sophie said. ‘As for Amy, I am not at all sure she could not remember if she chose.'

‘Mama, I could not. I tried, believe me I tried.' She did not want to speak of her memory of those two men for fear of alarming her aunts. And James had said he would deal with them, though what he had in mind she had no idea.

‘Amy has enough to contend with, without you throwing out accusations like that,' Harriet added.

Sophie laughed. ‘The mother hen looking after her chick.' She turned to Matilda. ‘Two mother hens.'

‘It is as well she has us, for you do not seem to care,' Matilda put in. ‘If Amy were
my
daughter—'

‘What do you know of having children?' Sophie demanded. ‘No man has ever looked at you like that.'