The Gallows Bride (15 page)

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Authors: Rebecca King

Tags: #romance, #thriller, #literature, #suspense, #adventure, #intrigue, #mysteries, #romanticsuspense, #historicalromance, #general mysteries, #regencyromance, #romanticmysteries

BOOK: The Gallows Bride
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Sorry to interrupt, but Sir Dunnicliffe needs to give
instructions to his men. We need to know about Jemima’s friend,”
Dominic explained, shooting his friend an apologetic look before he
closed the door, leaving Jemima and Peter alone again.

Jemima
eased away from his warm embrace, feeling slightly shaken by the
intensity of what just happened.


I’m not going to apologise for it,” Peter grumbled. “I want
you, you know that.”

Jemima
simply nodded, hoping her trembling knees would hold her upright
long enough to get her out of the door.


We had better go and give Hugo your friend’s name,” Peter
said, making it clear he expected her to do nothing
more.

Jemima
shot him a quick look, wondering if she should object to his
high-handedness, but wisely remained quiet. The journey to the room
next door, and the waiting group, was made in a tense silence.
Jemima was very aware of Peter dogging her every footstep and
wondered if this was the way of the future.

 

CHAPTER
FIVE

Jemima
entered the study moments later, aware that conversation had
stopped at her entrance. She glanced at Hugo briefly before
resuming her seat before the fireplace. She waited until Peter had
sat on the chaise beside her, and considered her words carefully
for several moments. She knew that what she was about to say would
upset someone; she just wasn’t sure who.


My friend’s name is Harriett Ponsonby, but -” she held up a
hand when Hugo shifted on his heels, clearly ready to spring into
action. “There is something you need to know about her. Let me tell
you before we decide what to do.” Her gaze met and held Hugo’s in
silent warning for several moments. “If you ignore me, then you
will not get Harriett to agree to anything you want. You can lock
her up in the Tower, and won’t get the information she has been
gathering.”


I’ve been to Padstow and know most of the locals. She isn’t
familiar,” Hugo replied, searching his memory for a strange old
woman who had a yen for gossip.


She won’t be,” Jemima replied, throwing Peter a careful look.
Taking a deep breath, she dropped her bombshell. “Harriett is a
witch.”


Witch?” Hugo’s brows shot up. “Witch as in cauldrons,
broomsticks, and things?” He stared warily at Jemima, racking his
brain for any memory of a witch and finding nothing.

Jemima’s
lips quirked. “As far as I am aware, she doesn’t fly. She is a
witch but not a black witch in that she doesn’t put curses on
people. She is a white witch, and believes that plants and herbs
can cure people of various ailments. She is a sort of uncertified
doctor.” Her eyes met Hugo’s. “Although most of the locals are
respectfully wary of her, most of them go to her when they are ill
and have no qualms about taking her tinctures. But a few people
have not been pleasant, and have been quite vocal about her and her
mother living in their village.”

Hugo
slumped in his seat opposite her. “She has a mother?”


Not any more; she died some time back. But her mother was
ostracised and verbally attacked on more than one occasion by
people who didn’t understand. As time has gone on, locals have kept
an almost wary distance from Harriett because of her association to
her mother.”


Until they need help,” Peter finished for her, unsurprised at
the selfishness of humanity.

Jemima
nodded. “As a result, Harriett is very reclusive, and extremely
wary of everyone, including men, until they need help; then she
will try to cure them with her potions. Usually she succeeds. In
fact, in all the years I have known her, there has only been one
occasion when she has failed, and the man was in his 90s anyway and
suffering from a wasting illness.”


I didn’t realise Padstow had a witch,” Hugo murmured,
wondering how this could have escaped the attention of his
men.


She doesn’t live in Padstow village,” Jemima explained. “She
lives in a house on the hills overlooking the harbour.”

Peter
shook his head and sat back in his chair. “Close enough to see all
the ships going in and out of the harbour.” He wasn’t surprised
when Jemima nodded slowly and looked at him.


Her house is the closest to ours. Old lady Ponsonby used to
look after us when Father was away on business. As children of the
magistrate, nobody criticised us for associating with known
witches. Father used to say that it helped keep the criminals away
from his door,” she added ruefully, a wry smile on her
face.

Her gaze
returned to Hugo. “So you see, Harriett won’t leave her beloved
home for anyone. She has built up so many different herbs and
plants, some I have never heard of, that she won’t leave them to
wilt and die, and there is nobody in the village who would be
prepared to go near her house to look after them for her. Moreover,
she won’t trust anything you say because you are a man.”


Why doesn’t she trust men? Has she had a problem before?”
Peter asked, wondering if there was a sour romance in her
past.


I don’t know the reason. She was civil enough with Father and
seemed to quite like him. But she was always wary, always allowing
anyone only so close before becoming defensive and returning home.
I do know Harriett grew up without a father. I don’t know who he
was, or what happened, because she refuses to talk about
it.”


Oh dear,” Hugo murmured, running his hands wearily through
his hair. “Are you sure she has been collecting the information we
need?”

Jemima
nodded. “Harriett is nothing but determined. She won’t stop until
Scraggan either kills her, or I arrive to tell her to
stop.”


Can’t you just send her a letter?” Peter demanded, knowing
where this was going and not liking it one bit.

Jemima
shook her head. “She is naturally wary. She won’t trust you or
believe the letter unless she sees me or Eliza in
person.”


Eliza isn’t going,” Edward snapped, lunging forward in his
seat, all defensive and argumentative. He glowered at Hugo. “She
has been through enough over the past few days. Rogan nearly hanged
her, for God’s sake. She is
not
heading to Padstow.” His tone brooked no
argument, and caused Hugo to study him warily.


I wasn’t about to suggest she did. Jemima is the one who used
to help her father with his papers. I understand there are more
papers hidden in the house?”

Jemima
jerked and stared cautiously at him.


Your father told me. He told me that he had a secret
compartment hidden in his room in which he kept his papers and had
made copious notes about his suspicions. He assured me he would
send them to us on his return home, only -”


He never returned home,” Jemima whispered softly, staring
absently at the bright pattern on the rug beneath her feet. She
knew without a doubt that this was the man her father had met in
London.

The
memory of her father was enough to bolster her courage to make the
decision she needed to, and remove the threat of Scraggan once and
for all.


I have a plan,” Jemima said hesitantly, glancing at Peter.
Meeting his cautious look, she continued. “It involves Peter.” She
watched his brows shoot up with alarm.


I think it is inevitable that I have to be the one who goes
to Padstow, but I cannot agree to being escorted into the village
by the Star Elite, or some of them.” Her gaze turned to
Hugo.


They are not all Star Elite, Jemima. Some of the men here are
soldiers hoping to join the Star Elite. Some of the Star Elite
members are already undercover and in Padstow, and have been for
some time.”


But you want to escort me down there with this band of men. A
group of people will certainly attract attention, especially the
closer we get to Scraggan’s patch.”


What are you suggesting, Jemima?” Peter frowned, not liking
the careful way she was picking her words. “You seriously cannot be
considering going there alone!” His tone warned her that she would
incur his wrath should she even try.

Jemima
shook her head. “I think it would be best if we went undercover
ourselves,” she said quietly.


We? As in you and me?” His voice was incredulous, but not
angry. There was a spark in her eyes that reminded him of the way
she had been in Devon, and it intrigued him. It called to a deeper
part of his masculinity that he couldn’t ignore.

Jemima
nodded. “As a couple, we can move around without drawing too much
attention. Scraggan thinks I am dead, so won’t be looking for me.
If we can disguise ourselves, we can go to Padstow and visit
Harriett, and I can persuade her to bring the papers and come and
stay with us for a while: at least, long enough to get her away
from Scraggan, while Hugo and his men arrest him and bring him to
justice.”


You are not traipsing around the country wearing breeches!”
Peter shouted, jumping out of his chair and pacing around the room
like a caged tiger. Although his sister had needed to wear breeches
to escape the brutality of her uncle, he was not going to sit back
and allow Jemima to traipse to Padstow wearing them!


I never suggested such a thing,” she replied.

Peter
ignored Dominic’s sniggering, and smacked Sebastian on the back of
the head when he commented that Isobel’s breeches would fit Jemima
very well.

Despite
his anxiety, Peter’s interest was piqued at the thought of Jemima
in tight breeches that covered the gentle curves of her derriere.
Shaking his head, he blanked out that thought and continued to
pace.

He had
to admit, her plan had a very good chance of succeeding. Moreover
it would give them considerable time alone together, which is what
they needed to allay Jemima’s fears that they were compatible; and
banish the ghosts of the past.

Crossing
his arms, he paused beside the window and studied her. Sitting in
the glow of the flickering flames, her hair shone like a golden
halo. The dark circles beneath her eyes belied an exhaustion she
refused to give in to. By rights, after the events of the past two
days, she should be a quivering wreck. Any other woman would still
be in bed, but not Jemima.

He could
understand her reasoning behind her reluctance to become an idle
housewife, spending her days discussing menus and very little else.
Jemima was too – well, too alive – for that kind of monotony. If he
was honest, it was what appealed to him about her.


You could adopt a disguise of father and son,” Sebastian
mused, fighting the urge to burst into laughter. He sat forward and
rested his elbows on his knees in case Peter sought to smack him
about the head again, and ignored the epithet Peter threw
him.


Boys,” Hugo chided in a fatherly manner, the humour
completely lost on him.


Man and wife,” Peter grumbled, shaking his head. “We can
disguise ourselves suitably well. If we go to Padstow using a
circuitous route -”


You cannot go anywhere near Willowbrook, or go anywhere you
have been before. You cannot risk being recognised. I can send
someone to follow you and make sure you aren’t being watched and
followed, but if you are challenged in any way, you will be on your
own,” Hugo reminded them, wondering if they were prepared for a
life of subterfuge. They were certainly an eccentric family. It
hadn’t escaped his attention that nobody seemed to bow and curtsey,
and there was something about the ladies wearing breeches that the
men found hilarious. Shaking his head at the oddities of the
aristocracy, he turned his thoughts back to the matter at
hand.


I understand, but I have considered the options and there
really is no other way we can get her there with less risk to her
life,” Peter reasoned.


How do you plan to get back out of Padstow with two ladies?”
Edward murmured, thinking through the journey.

Peter
eyes met Hugo’s. “You will have to meet me and Jemima in Padstow
somewhere, and accompany us out of town.”


I can escort you out of the village before Scraggan realises
we are even there.” Hugo’s statement wasn’t a boast, just a calm
reassurance.


It will have to be in daylight, though,” Jemima added,
thinking of Harriett’s fierce bodyguard. Although she had made his
acquaintance on more than one occasion, she didn’t want to incur
Harold’s wrath in the middle of the night. “Harriett won’t even
open her door, even to me, at night. We will have to go at first
light,” Jemima argued, unwilling to give in to his dictates too
much. After all, she didn’t want to set a precedent where Peter
thought he would order her around and she would just meekly
follow.

This
journey was about more than helping her friend out of Padstow now.
It was about cementing her relationship with Peter, and deciding if
there was enough there on which to build a marriage. For her sake,
she had to start as she meant to go on and get him to understand
that she wasn’t going to be a meek and mild-mannered miss he could
order about.

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