The Girl in the Mask (33 page)

‘Let her go, or I’ll shoot!’ shouted Jenny, trying to cover both the coachman and the occupant of the chaise, and succeeding only in waving her own pistol about uselessly. She never was any good with a gun.

The man stepped out of the chaise in a leisurely manner, twisted my maltreated arm behind my back, holding me in front of him, his free hand at my throat.

‘Shoot me, my lad, and you’ll kill your friend,’ he said to Jenny. Then he looked at me in the moonlight, caught his breath and twitched off my mask. ‘What do you mean by holding me up again, and this time wearing my own mask to do it, Sophia?’

‘Mr … Mr Charleton?’ asked Jenny uncertainly. ‘What are you doin’ here?’

‘Searching for you two, of course. What a stupid question. Put the gun down, Jenny.’

Jenny lowered her gun. Mr Charleton released me and I sank to my knees, nursing my throbbing wrist. He knelt beside me, and ran his fingers over it, making me cry out in pain. ‘It’s not broken,’ he said. ‘But it will hurt for a while. I won’t apologize; I was defending myself.’

I nodded, not feeling able to speak yet.

‘Let’s not linger here in this freezing spot,’ suggested Mr Charleton. ‘There’s a pleasant inn a few miles on. Shall we head there for a chat?’

I was reeling with shock. I found myself helped into the chaise, while Jenny rode beside it leading my horse. The vehicle was soon in motion. I sat stunned, still nursing my wrist. It seemed a quite impossible coincidence that of all the coaches in the whole country to choose from, we had managed to hit on Mr Charleton’s.

‘Coincidence?’ said Mr Charleton indignantly when I ventured to say as much. ‘I’ve been hunting for you for weeks. Reports of two slight young lads holding up coaches in this area led me to drive up and down these blasted roads at night in the hope of being robbed. I thought you’d never find me.’

‘But why would you be looking for us?’ I asked him.

‘All in good time,’ he replied. ‘Sophia, I’m sorry to tell you, you smell like a cow byre. How does that come about?’

‘Oh,’ I said, embarrassed. ‘Jenny and I slept in one last night.’

‘That would explain it. Was there any particular reason? Some attraction of a cow byre over an inn that I know nothing about?’

‘Yes, it’s free,’ I said defiantly.

‘Possibly,’ he remarked, shaking out a scented pocket handkerchief and holding it to his nose. ‘But it brings with it a very pungent odour.’

Cautiously I sniffed at the sleeve of my coat. ‘Is it so very bad?’ I asked apologetically. ‘I can’t smell it.’

‘Which just goes to show how very far you have strayed from fashionable life at the Bath,’ he remarked.

I said nothing more, but watched him as the chaise swayed and lurched over the uneven road. What did I feel about seeing him again? It was utterly unexpected. Almost unreal. But a part of me was pleased.

Our arrival at the inn caused a bustle. Ostlers met the coach and unharnessed the horses. Jenny handed over our own two horses to their care as well, and the landlord bowed us all into his inn, casting a disapproving eye over Jenny and me. I could see at a glance it was quite a different class of inn to those we’d been staying in; it was beautifully clean, wax candles were in use rather than tallow and the furniture was smart and cared for.

‘A private parlour, please,’ Mr Charleton said. ‘And bring some hot milk for the ladies. I’ll need a bedchamber for myself, another for the ladies, and, er … they will need a bath.’

‘Yes, sir,’ agreed the landlord wholeheartedly.

‘Hot milk?’ demanded Jenny in disgust when the landlord had bowed us into the parlour, had some candles lit and then withdrawn again. ‘If you’re goin’ to lay out your ready on drinks, can’t we have ale or a glass o’ porter?’

‘Hot milk will do you so much more good,’ replied Mr Charleton firmly.

Jenny sat down and crossed her arms in a huff.

‘Well,’ Mr Charleton began, looking at us both. ‘I was right then. All I had to do was drive around at night and wait for you to rob me.’

Neither of us replied. I felt a tingle of shame burning on my neck and ears. Or was that merely the effect of coming in from the cold? A servant came in to light the fire. It smoked a little, and then began to crackle. I found myself cheered by the sight of it. The arrival of the hot milk lifted my spirits further. I wrapped my hands around the mug and sipped. The creamy, sugared drink warmed me right through. I noticed that Jenny was drinking hers too, despite her protests. A sense of well-being began to spread through me.

‘Do you not want to hear the news from the Bath?’ asked Mr Charleton. ‘You both played your part in the events there, after all.’

When I stayed silent, Jenny said: ‘I s’pose you’re going to tell us anyway.’

‘I am. The rebellion was defeated almost before it had begun. The troops the rebels expected never arrived from France or Ireland. No lives were lost in fighting. Some ringleaders fled back to France, but there were many arrests. Sir William Wyndham, among others, is safely in the Tower of London now. And there was a tremendous celebration last week. The Corporation wanted to distance itself from the losing side, and so put on a great show of support for king and government. There were processions, cannon salutes and everyone there did a magnificent job of showing the world they had been loyal subjects of King George all along.’

He looked at us both, as though expecting a response. But our preoccupations had been so very different in the past weeks. We’d been concerned with the all-consuming task of getting enough food to eat and finding shelter at night. The events at the Bath, dramatic as they had been, seemed very far away. I tried to rouse myself to take an interest.

‘That’s good,’ I said, and it sounded lame, even to me. Sleepiness was beginning to steal over me.

‘You both disappeared in the midst of all the excitement,’ Mr Charleton continued. ‘If you’d only stayed, you would have seen everything resolved.’

‘I wasn’t staying to be married off to the lizard,’ I retorted. ‘I had no choice but to flee.’

‘In fact, there was no danger of your being married at all. You couldn’t know it, of course, but the captain was one of the rebellion’s ringleaders. The Bath became too hot for him, and he fled. I pursued him as far as the coast where I lost track of him.’

‘Gone?’ I echoed blankly. For a moment I imagined that I might have stayed after all, but then I recollected that it would have been impossible. ‘He was not my only reason for running away. My father had even worse plans for me if he did not succeed in marrying me off. I did the right thing.’

At that moment, a maid entered to inform us our baths were ready. Mr Charleton got to his feet. ‘I can see how tired you both are,’ he said. ‘Have a wash, sleep and we’ll talk more in the morning. Good night.’

It was good to immerse myself in the tub of warm water and scrub the weeks of accumulated dirt from my body. It was even better to sleep in a clean, comfortable bed. But I woke early, wondering what on earth was to become of me. I suspected Mr Charleton wouldn’t agree to let us continue our robberies. It occurred to me he might even try and force me to return to my father. Unable to lie still any longer with that hideous possibility in my mind, I got up. I found my breeches and shirt had been washed for me overnight. I dressed quietly, so as not to wake Jenny, and went downstairs. The sun was shining brightly outside, sending rays of autumn sunlight slanting in through the windows of the inn. It crossed my mind that it might be best simply to run away now. I could be out in that sunshine in a matter of minutes, riding away from here. But the temptation of seeing Mr Charleton was stronger than my instinct to flee.

Mr Charleton, an early riser apparently, was in the parlour writing letters. I was strangely glad to see his tall, elegant figure seated at the table. I’d missed him more than I’d realized these past weeks. When he looked up and smiled at me, I found myself smiling back.

Mr Charleton put down his pen, got up to bow to me, and offered me a seat on the settle by the fire. When I sat down, he sat next to me. I expected him to speak, but he said nothing, merely staring abstractedly into the fire. At last after a long silence, he looked at me, his expression very grave. ‘Sophia,’ he said, and then paused as though unsure how to continue.

‘What is it?’ I asked him, alarmed, for he looked so serious.

‘I have some news which is going to upset you.’

‘Tell me,’ I begged fearfully.

‘Your father … ’

I interrupted him. ‘My father has gambled all his fortune away. I know that.’

‘You know it? How?’ asked Mr Charleton, startled.

‘I saw my aunt,’ I said. ‘I went back to fetch some things and she was there … stealing my jewellery.’

‘So it will be no surprise to you to hear that she fled the Bath?’

‘None at all. Good riddance,’ I replied. ‘Though I’d rather she’d been arrested.’

Mr Charleton shook his head. ‘That was never likely. She was a go-between; a mere messenger. With so many conspirators to deal with, she was of too little interest. And although we’re sure that both she and the captain were card sharps, we couldn’t prove it.’

‘Do you mean she cheated?’ I asked. ‘You’re quite right. She admitted as much to me.’

‘That was foolish of her. Though it’s good to know my suspicions were correct. But, Sophia, that is not the main thing I have to tell you. There is worse: I’m afraid your father is dead.’

I froze, trying to take in what he had said. ‘That’s not … possible,’ I faltered at last. ‘How can he be dead?’

All my life I’d stood in my father’s shade. Even from the other side of the Atlantic, his shadow had reached me. And now he was gone? I couldn’t believe it.

‘It’s true.’

‘But how … ?’ I asked and then before he could answer, a thought struck me. ‘His pride would never stand the disgrace of the ruin he’d brought upon himself. Did he take his own life?’

Mr Charleton shook his head. ‘No. He got into a quarrel over cards in a tavern, it’s believed. He took part in a duel at dawn the day after the failed rebellion. He was shot through the heart; his body found in the fields. I’m so sorry, Sophia,’ Mr Charleton said. ‘It’s an ending I’ve seen all too often when cards or dice take control of a man.’

‘So I’m free?’ I asked, hardly daring to believe it. ‘I don’t have to go back to him?’

‘I beg your pardon?’ asked Mr Charleton sounding startled. ‘I thought you would be upset.’

‘I am. Shocked too. But most of all I’m relieved. You can’t even begin to understand what a tyrant he was. And I don’t believe,’ I said, musing, ‘that he ever showed me even one bit of love. Not ever.’

‘What will you do?’ asked Mr Charleton. ‘We don’t know where your aunt has gone.’

‘She doesn’t want me. I don’t know,’ I said soberly. ‘I really don’t know. I thought the free life of the highway would suit me. I love the excitement and the uncertainty. But there’s no
point
. I’m robbing people, doing wrong, without any justification at all. I want to do something that has a purpose. Oh, dear. It’s hard to explain. But do you understand what I mean?’

‘I do understand.’ Mr Charleton’s voice was kind.

‘I need work. A task to do. A reason for living. And I have nothing.’

‘I can see that. I’ve given the matter some thought. I do have an offer of sorts for the two of you. It’s seemed to me that you would relish a more active life than you have led up to now, even if it meant stepping out of your class. Mr Allen is willing and able to offer you and Jenny work within the post office. He promises to take care of you, to help you find somewhere suitable to live. He’s a very kind and trustworthy man, and has been rewarded largely for his key role in intercepting mail and quelling the rebellion. As you can perhaps imagine, a man in his position was invaluable to us. I predict he will make his fortune.’

‘In rebuilding the city of Bath? I’m so glad!’

‘Perhaps,’ admitted Mr Charleton. ‘But I think he plans to reform the Post Office first.’

‘I’m happy for him. But … work in the
post office
?’ I asked astonished. I thought about it and laughed a little. ‘Well, I might be able to do such work. It’s certainly a kind offer. But sir, do you see that suiting Jenny? We would be robbing the posts or running away within the month.’

Mr Charleton looked a little pained. ‘And you, Sophia?’ he asked. ‘Could you be content with such a life?’

‘I don’t know. I wish to be useful and active, yes. But … ’ I hesitated. Then emboldened by the kind understanding in his eyes I continued in a rush: ‘I do long so for danger and excitement. More than I can say. Is that wrong of me?’

He laughed quietly and shook his head a little. ‘How can I tell you it’s wrong, when it’s what I live and breathe myself? I turned down a career in the Church for this life, to my father’s undying disgust. But I don’t think you should be seeking your thrills in law-breaking. Quite apart from issues of right and wrong (and I never think they should be ignored) you will end on the scaffold that way.’

‘I know. I don’t wish to continue it. I wish … ’

I paused, not knowing how to tell him what I wished. How could I explain that the weeks we’d spent apart had been unbearably empty? I blushed even to think of doing so. But something had to be said. In the end the words came out in a rush: ‘I wish so much that we could go with you. We might be able to help you again!’