The Earl Next Door (21 page)

Marianne would rather not have compounded her large lie with a small one, but the stakes were so high that the lies, which at any other time would have troubled her, caused her no more than a moment’s guilt. She was determined to be on the ship when it set sail to rescue Kit, and inventing a party at the Cosgrove estate gave her the necessary excuse for being away for a few days.

Relieved that the first part of her plan had gone so smoothly, she allowed herself an hour’s rest and then, having had something to eat, she dressed in her riding habit and took a small valise out to her waiting mare.

‘You enjoy yourself,’ said Trudie as she waved Marianne off.

Marianne smiled, but as she rode away she said softly, under her breath, ‘I doubt it.’

Now that the first hurdle had been successfully cleared she turned her thoughts to what lay ahead. Following the road to begin with, she soon turned off onto a beaten track that made its way through open countryside parallel to the coast. She rode quickly and confidently, sure of where she was heading.

As children she and Kit had loved to mess about on the water. Their father had been a keen amateur sailor and had owned his own small craft. They had spent a lot of time in the neighbouring coves and quays, and had come to know most of the ships and their crews. And so, when she had heard Lord Ravensford mention the name of Captain Gringe, she had begun to consider the possibility of stowing away on his ship.
The Returner
was a craft she knew very well, and there was a perfect place where she could hide, at least until the ship was safely on its way to
France
. But she had much to do before she could go on board.

Arriving at the small harbour, which lay some ten miles west of Seaton Hall, she proceeded to the blacksmith’s. Jim Smith was hard at work, his hammer rising and falling as he shoed a cart-horse. Marianne dismounted, sliding to the ground without help. She had grown used to managing this somewhat difficult task alone since the servants at the Hall had become depleted. She  stood patiently holding her mare’s head until he had finished.

Jim wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm, then turned towards her. ‘Mornin’, miss, what can I  – why, if it isn’t Miss Marianne!’ His round face beamed as he saw her.

‘Hello, Jim.’ She smiled in return.

‘It’s a long time since we’ve seen you in these parts – we haven’t seen you since . . . Oo, not since your Pa gave up the yacht. What brings you here, Miss Marianne?’

Marianne hesitated. She could not tell Jim what had really brought her to the harbour but she did not like lying. She had been forced to lie to Trudie, but with Jim she hoped to be able to get away with making a vague answer; he was not likely to think it his business to ask any awkward questions.

‘I need to stable my mare until Friday,’ she said. ‘For reasons I can’t go into, I can’t leave her at the Hall.’

‘Why, that’s no problem. I can keep her here for you ’til then.’

‘I was hoping you would say that, Jim. Thank you. And Jim . . . ’

‘Yes, miss?’

‘I’d rather no one else knew about this. From the Hall, I mean.’

Jim grinned. ‘A surprise is it, Miss Marianne? Well, I don’t know what you’re planning, but your secret’s safe with me.’

Relieved that Jim had assumed she was planning to surprise someone – to give them the mare as a present, perhaps – she gave him a handful of coins. ‘To feed her,’ she explained. ‘And there is one other thing. If by any chance I haven’t come to claim her by Friday, can you see that this letter is delivered to the Hall?’

Jim wiped his hands down the front of his leather apron before taking it.

‘The letter will make sure the mare is collected by someone else, if for any reason I can’t come.’

And it will tell them everything, in the event something happens and I don’t return, she thought.

‘Just as you say, Miss Marianne. I’ll get my boy to take it over Friday if you don’t manage to get here yourself.’

‘Thank you, Jim.’

With that task done, Marianne took a walk through the small town that clustered round the harbour. She purchased some basic items of food to take with her onto the ship and then retired to the church until it was dark.

When the light had faded, she left the church and made her way down to the quay, where half a dozen ships were tied up. With a quick look over her shoulder to make sure that she was not being observed, she went aboard
The Returner
. Knowing the ship as she did, she knew that the Captain’s cabin had a large cupboard at one end which was now almost empty. The Captain had had it put in for the benefit of his wife, who had accompanied him on his shorter trips in years gone by, and had needed it for her clothes. But she was bedridden now, and the cupboard was unused. Or had been, last time Marianne had been on board.

She made her way into the cabin. Sure enough, the cupboard, which had been made by partitioning off the end of the cabin, was still there, and apart from a tattered cloak, a broken telescope and dusty pile of ropes it was empty.

She knew it would not keep her hidden for long, because on a ship of this size total concealment would be impossible, but if she could just escape detection until the ship was too far out to turn back then she would be satisfied.

She settled herself as comfortably as she could. Then there was nothing to do but wait.

It was shortly after
ten o’clock
that the crew came on board. Marianne heard a snatch of song and some ripe laughter as the men walked up the gangplank, and then she heard Captain Gringe calling out instructions as the men passed to and fro overhead, carrying out their allotted tasks.

It seemed to be an age before they finally cast off but at last, with a flapping of sails and a creaking of timber, the ship began to move. Marianne felt its rolling progress as it made headway, rounding the coast and heading towards the Billingsdale estate.

Once the ship was moving, Marianne’s greatest fear was that Captain Gringe would retire to his cabin and by some mischance discover she had stowed away. But the night was fine, and he remained on deck.

So far, so good, she thought to herself.

It was not long before the ship’s regular motion ceased. She felt a lurch, and knew that the anchor had been dropped. They were just off the Billingsdale estate, then, and Lord Ravensford would soon be coming aboard.

As long as he, too, decided to remain on deck she should be safe from detection until she decided to make her presence known.

She had thought it through all day. Sooner or later she would have to let Lord Ravensford know that she was on board, for she could hardly tend to Kit’s wounds if no one knew she was there. But when to reveal herself? When they reached
France
? She shook her head. If she did that, Lord Ravensford’s anger may well delay the rescue of her brother. It must be sooner, then. Soon enough to let Lord Ravensford recover from the shock of finding her on board before he had to set out in the rowing boat for France.

It would take all of her courage, but she knew that, as soon as it was too late for the ship to turn back, she must walk onto the deck. And be prepared to face the inevitable storm of disapproval that would greet her.

In the event, however, her hand was forced.

It was a still night, and after hearing Lord Ravensford's party climb on board Marianne felt the ship begin to move again. She re-settled herself in the cupboard, and after a while risked opening the door a crack. It relieved some of the stuffiness, and gave her a little light.

It was too early to reveal her presence, so she ate a little more of the bread and fruit she had bought in the village. She was just wiping the crumbs from her skirt when there as a scuttling noise and she started up in horror: there was a rat. She hated rats. She backed out of the cupboard, shuddering, just as one of the crew came into the cabin, holding a lantern aloft. In the strange and ghostly light he saw Marianne and let out a cry.

Marianne jumped, the crewman swore under his breath, and then, grabbing her by the arm, said, ‘What are you doing here?’

‘What’s taking you so long?’ came the Captain’s voice from above.

Pushing Marianne roughly in front of him, the crewman forced her up the stairs and on to the deck.

The moon was up, large and round, and the sky was lit with stars.

‘What the devil –’ exclaimed Lord Ravensford.

‘So.’ Captain Gringe’s voice was icily calm. ‘It seems we have a stowaway.’

‘Damn it, Marianne, I should have known you’d given in too easily,’ swore Lord Ravensford. He glared at her, then, looking at the Captain he said, ‘Turn the ship around.’

But a half-smile had appeared on the Captain’s face. Marianne felt some of the tension leave her. Captain Gringe had recognised her.

‘I said turn the ship around,’ said Lord Ravensford again.

‘I give the orders on my ship,’ said Captain Gringe politely, but with a voice of steel. ‘Now then, Miss Marianne, why don’t you tell me what you’re doing on
The Returner
? She hasn’t seen you for many a year.’

Marianne smiled in relief. His tone was friendly, and it was clear he remembered her with affection, as she remembered him.

‘You know where we are going?’ she asked.

He nodded thoughtfully. ‘I know where. But not why.’

‘That’s none of your business,’ growled Lord Ravensford.

‘If you want me to put Miss Marianne off the ship it is,’ he replied calmly.

‘We’re going to rescue Kit.’ Marianne’s words were simple, but conveyed a deep feeling nonetheless.

‘Ah.’ Captain Gringe was thoughtful. ‘So that’s it.’

‘These men are Kit’s friends,’ said Marianne. ‘But Kit is hurt and he may need medical attention. Which is why I need to be here when he comes on board.’

The Captain nodded thoughtfully.

‘Turn the ship around,’ said Lord Ravensford again. ‘
France
is no place for Mari – Miss Travis.’

Captain Gringe looked at him evenly. ‘I can’t do that.’

‘We’ve barely left
England
–’

‘But if we go back we’ll miss the tide.’

Marianne had the feeling that he was making an excuse, and that Captain Gringe was on her side. ‘Damn it, Gringe –’

‘Accept it, Luke,’ said Henri from the bow of the ship.

‘Like hell.’ He turned to Marianne. ‘You and I have some talking to do. But not here. Downstairs.’

Marianne almost refused. But then, knowing that an argument was to follow, decided she would rather not have it in front of the crew. ‘Very well.’

She turned and led the way down the wooden stairs and into the cabin. Lord Ravensford followed, hanging his lantern on the hook in the ceiling.

‘What the devil do you think you are doing?’ he demanded angrily. ‘Sneaking on board, stowing away. This isn’t some kind of game.’