The Highwayman's Daughter (25 page)

Helping her up, the earl took her in his arms, and she dropped her head to his shoulder with a sigh. Jack suddenly felt surplus to requirements.

Casting a glance over his shoulder and rejoicing in their obvious affection for each other, he left his parents. Picking up a candle, he retired to his room.

As he undressed, he stared out into the night, mulling over the conversation with his parents and the revelations about his cousin. Rupert had always felt more like a brother to him than a cousin, but with what he knew now, maybe that wasn’t so strange.

Back in his mother’s boudoir he’d had a momentary, crazy thought that if he were to give up his inheritance in favour of Rupert, he might forget about the humiliating robbery and let him and Cora be together. But he’d quelled the thought as soon as it had entered his head; he’d spent his whole life learning how to manage the estate, preparing for this job for as long as he could remember. He was more than qualified to do it, whereas Rupert didn’t have the knowledge, inclination or experience to run a large estate successfully. Out of duty to his family, to their tenants and everyone else who depended on the estate for their livelihood he had no other option than to forget Cora. He only hoped she was safe wherever she was.

‘But I can promise you this, Cora,’ he muttered to the reflection in the dark window glass, ‘I’ll care for your father’s remains. I know how much he meant to you.’

Hiding in the shadows outside his aunt’s private salon, Rupert had heard enough. His head spinning, he staggered along the corridor to his bedroom and yanked open the window. The shock of the cool evening air on his face made him gasp, but the chill was welcome. Clenching his fists, he stared out into the night as he entertained murderous thoughts
.

So, he was not his father’s son. Everything he had taken for granted about his life, had known about himself, about his past, present and future, tumbled down like a house of cards. A thousand thoughts and feelings flew through his mind at the same time, so fast he could capture only a few of them.

Confusion and pain. Anger at the deceit they were planning.

He twisted his cane in rage. There was nothing he could do about it – even if he could produce enough evidence for a court of law. Who would believe him, and not his uncle, a respected nobleman whom everyone held in high esteem? No one, was the answer.

What did the future hold for him now? The question injured him like the sting from a wasp, venom coursing in his veins. Bringing his hand up, he banged it several times against the window frame so hard the glass panes rattled.

Then came the relief that whatever he chose to do from now on, he could do without a guilty conscience, because he owed them nothing. His next move would be to secure the earldom, and he had no compunction about the means required to obtain it.

Despite the lateness of the hour, the Black Dog Inn was crowded when Rupert entered. Pausing in the doorway, he took a moment or two to allow his eyes to adjust to the blanket of smoke. His other senses were insulted by the rancid smell of tallow, unwashed bodied and stale beer, the clamour of voices and the raucous laughter from the tavern doxies.

As he made his way across the dirty floor to a secluded corner at the back, he was jostled by beefy serving wenches bearing tankards of ale and platters of food. A group of unshaven, sweaty men were clustered around a table where a game of dice was under way, and it sounded as if the stakes were high. In front of the large fireplace at one end of the room sat a lone figure, huddled in a mud-splattered cloak with two pistols tucked into his belt. He coughed repeatedly, either because of the smoke from the fire or an ague of the chest. Rupert gave him a wide berth and sat down at a table.

‘What’ll it be, sir?’ A serving girl appeared almost immediately and leaned forward to display her ample bosom to its advantage. She smiled what she might have imagined to be a winsome smile, but it was nothing but a grimace of blackened and missing teeth. That, combined with the dark circles of sweat under her armpits and several unidentifiable stains on the front of her dress, made Rupert draw back in distaste.

‘A tankard of ale,’ he said hastily, trying not to breathe in her body odour, ‘and a word with the landlord, if you please.’

‘Right you are,’ she replied. She sent him another smile, and Rupert grimaced back while he suppressed a shudder. He may have bedded wenches like this one in the past; now he saw himself as Jack must have done. A wastrel bringing the family’s name in disrepute because he had nothing better to do. That it was Jack who had been his self-appointed spokesperson with his uncle and aunt rankled even more.

After a while the landlord appeared. ‘You requested my presence, sir. How may I be of assistance?’

‘Discretion,’ said Rupert, placing a guinea on the table.

‘Is my middle name,’ countered the landlord.

Rupert sized him up. A thin, tired-looking man, the landlord wore a leather apron, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to the elbow to display wiry arms, which seemed at odds with his scrawny frame, but his eyes were shrewd and intelligent. Rupert decided he would do.

‘All right,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘I need two men who are prepared to do a job for me, no questions asked. High risk, but well paid.’

‘Within the law or outside it?’ the landlord asked. A smug smile pulled at the corners of his thin mouth.

‘I said no questions. But trust me, it’s not for the squeamish.’

Nodding, the landlord closed his hand over the coin. ‘I know the men you want. Meet me at the back in half an hour. They’ll be waiting.’

Half an hour later, behind the Black Dog, three shadowy figures met and conducted their business in secrecy. A heavy purse changed hands while Rupert outlined his plan and gave a description of the targets.

‘The viscount usually goes riding in the mornings.’ He went on to explain the route Jack would normally take and what he wanted the two men to do when they had overpowered him.

‘Will he be alone?’ asked one of them, a burly man with beefy overarms and a neckerchief encrusted with dirt around his neck.

‘He often accompanies the earl in the mornings, and if that’s the case, you’ll have to wait until another day,’ said Rupert.

‘Right you are, sir.’

‘Bind him and bring him to the clearing we talked about. If he resists, show him who’s boss, but remember, I want him coherent. Do I make myself clear?’

‘Aye, crystal clear,’ growled the other man, who seemed a little cleaner and a little more intelligent.

Satisfied, Rupert nodded curtly. ‘Now I must bid you goodnight, gentlemen, but remember, there’s more where that comes from, provided you do my bidding and follow my instructions to the letter. He must not be allowed to escape.’

The next morning Jack informed Benning of his plans to re-bury the body of a man in the forest, and instructed him to ready the necessary equipment.

‘Re-bury a body, m’lord? Would that be the highwayman everyone’s talking about?’ The groom eyed him curiously.

‘That’s no concern of yours,’ Jack snapped, and Benning was wise enough not to ask further. Instead he went about his preparations, muttering to himself, as was his habit.

Jack ignored him. Cora had been on his mind all night and he hoped that she wouldn’t leave the area until she’d ensured a proper burial for her father. From their whispered conversation during their night of passion he had ascertained that Cora and her father planned on going to Spain, but he suspected that her plans had changed now.

And if he managed to inter Mardell’s remains in the churchyard, he was certain Cora would wish to visit her father’s new grave, at least once. Perhaps then he could see her one last time. He had to tell her he understood now that it was too dangerous for them to be together, but the thought of uttering those words left him almost breathless from pain.

Alethea found him as he and Benning were preparing for a lengthy sojourn in the forest.

‘Where are you going?’ she asked when she noticed their equipment and Jack’s scruffy attire.

‘Nowhere.’

‘Something’s going on: I know it. It’s about that girl you like, isn’t it? I knew it, Jack! Oh, I just knew it!’ She flung her arms around him.

‘Slow down,’ he said and extricated himself gently. ‘What do you know?’

‘That you are to be married, you ninny. I heard my aunt and uncle discuss it yesterday afternoon. I was playing the pianoforte, and they didn’t think I was listening, but I was. Oh, you’ll be so happy, I’m sure of it! You lucky, lucky thing!’ Excited, Alethea bounced up and down.

‘Alethea …’ Jack began, but then stopped. He had never kept any secrets from her. Guilt stole over him. Although Alethea knew Cora looked a lot like her father, he didn’t know how she would react to the knowledge that Cora was her half-sister. And what about Rupert? Should he tell her they were only half-siblings? On the other hand, Alethea was one of the most sensible and sharp-minded people he had ever known, despite her youth. He owed it to her. ‘I’ll tell you all, but later. It’s not that simple.’

‘Tell me now!’ she cried.

With a sigh, Jack agreed. Mardell was dead and his body wasn’t going anywhere. What difference did half an hour make? ‘All right, but not here. It’s a complex matter, and I don’t want to be overheard.’ He inclined his head in the direction of the groom, and, getting his meaning, Alethea nodded imperceptibly.

Riding side by side down a secluded lane towards the Heath, Jack trusted his instincts and told his cousin everything that had happened.

When he finished, Alethea’s pretty face was sad but determined. Reining in her horse, she stopped and put a slender hand on his arm. ‘I’m honoured that you trusted me enough to share this with me, and it makes no difference to me that your intended is illegitimate, because I stand to gain a sister in more ways than one. However, it saddens me that my parents were so unhappy. Obviously I don’t remember them, with my father dying before I was born, and my mother when she had me, but I’m sure they didn’t deserve such wretchedness.’

She smiled briefly, but then turned serious again, and her eyes were concerned when she continued. ‘As for Rupert, I love my brother – despite his penchant for getting into trouble, but I mistrust him intensely. He wants to be the next earl, and if he should get wind of this, it would be ruinous for us all.’

‘Even if he does, he could never hope to inherit. Father cannot acknowledge him openly. He may have been indulgent when it comes to Rupert, but he’d never do anything which would lead to my mother being humiliated. Rupert would gain nothing other than being cut off without a penny.’

‘And if he resorts to other, baser, means?’

‘I’ll be on my guard.’

As they continued on their ride, Jack said nothing further, and Alethea appeared deep in thought. He wondered where Cora was and prayed that she stayed away from Rupert.

They had reached the part of the lane where the woods were densest before they petered out into Hounslow Heath. Alethea turned to Jack with a smile, and he opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t get a chance. Two men leapt out from the bushes on either side of the path. One caught the bridle of Jack’s horse and pointed a pistol at him; the other pulled Alethea from her mount, muffling her startled scream with a dirty hand.

Instinctively Jack reached for his rapier, but the man shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you, mister. It’d be a mighty shame if my associate ’ere had to snap the lady’s delicate neck, now, wouldn’t it? Such a pretty neck ’n’ all.’

Meeting Alethea’s frightened eyes, Jack stopped.

‘Now, if you’ll be so kind as to give me that sword and get down from your ’orse, I’d be much obliged.’

Glaring at him, Jack handed him the rapier and got down. ‘There’s a purse in my pocket,’ he said. ‘Take what you came for and release my cousin.’

The man prodded him in the back with the pistol. ‘A tempting offer, but it ain’t your purse I’m after.’

‘Well, state what you want, and I’ll give it to you. Only let the lady go.’

‘Sorry, can’t do that. The two of you will fetch a pretty penny. ’Ere, Toby, toss us that rope.’

The other man complied, taking his eyes off Jack for a moment. While his attention was elsewhere, Jack elbowed the first ruffian in the stomach. Winded, the man clutched his middle, and Jack wrested the pistol from his grip.

Then his head exploded with pain, and he remembered nothing more.

Cora looked back one last time at Mr Isaacs. It was early, and she left by the back door, away from prying eyes. Last night she’d come to pass on the sad news that Ned had died, and, seeing her distress, Mr Isaacs had insisted that she stayed for a meal. At first she’d hesitated, fearing that her presence would endanger Mr Isaacs, but afterwards she’d been grateful for his offer. When he offered her a bed to lie down on for a while, she accepted that too. She hadn’t realised just how tired she was.

Her old friend had lit a seven-armed candle holder and said a prayer in his own language. Although Cora didn’t understand the words, it had given her comfort. Afterwards she had slept like a baby.

Knowing that the magistrate might be looking for her in his hunt for the escaped prisoner, she had maintained her disguise as a young man. Tucking her black hair under her hat, she was able to ride out of town unchallenged.

At the nine-mile stone she hesitated. Going straight on would take her to London, turning left would take her towards Lampton Hall.

And Jack.

She still had his watch in her pocket. Jack had hinted that it had sentimental value because his cousin had given it to him – returning it would be the decent thing to do, would it not?

How do you propose to do that, my girl?

She could almost hear Ned’s voice in her head. No, indeed, how would she go about it? She could hardly ride up to the front door and announce her intention to return an item of stolen property. With his cousin on her trail, she might end up on the gallows – and Jack too perhaps, as an accomplice. She couldn’t let that happen. Perhaps if she hid among the trees in the park, she might chance upon Alethea and could ask her to give the watch to Jack.

You’re fooling yourself,
she thought. The watch was merely an excuse for seeing Jack one last time, even if from a distance.

Resolutely she nudged Samson forward and took the left road. It might be dangerous, but Jack had said he would like the watch back, and if there was a way of getting it to him, she would find it.

She heard the smothered scream when she was about half a mile from the estate and reined in her horse sharply. Someone was in danger, a woman by the pitch of the scream. The wise thing to do would be turn around and get away from here, but instinct kicked in. Someone needed her help.

What if it was Alethea?

The sound came from dead ahead on the narrow lane. Trees and bushes lined both sides of it, and – conscious stealth might be best – she slipped down from Samson’s back and led him in among the bushes. Quietening him with a hand on his soft muzzle, she made her way to where the sound had come from, under cover of the dense shrubbery, and peered out through the leaves.

The scene that greeted her sent her heart racing: Jack was held at pistol point by a scruffy-looking individual, and another man had his hand clamped over Alethea’s mouth.

She ducked back behind the leaves and lay flat on the ground, lest the men should spot her. Reaching for her pistol, she wondered how best to overcome the attackers, but there were two of them, both with pistols, and although Cora was fast, she doubted she’d be able to get off another shot from her second pistol before one of them fired on her.

Just then there was a sickening crack, and Cora clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. One of the men had hit Jack over the head with the butt of his pistol, and Jack crumpled to the ground. Helpless, she watched as the men bound his wrists and tossed him over the back of his horse. Then they bound Alethea’s hands to the pommel of her saddle and led their captives further into the forest.

Bile rose in her throat, and on shaking legs Cora followed them at a safe distance, her pistol cocked and ready.