Sarah Mallory - Disgrace and Desire

‘I still think I should come with you,’ grumbled Robert as Jack scrambled into the saddle.

‘No, you go back now and wait for me.’ Jack patted his pocket. He had a pistol, should he need it, and besides, he forced himself to face the thought, if this should prove nothing more than a sordid little assignation with a lover, the less people who knew of it the better.

Keeping a discreet distance, Jack followed the coach as it bowled through the darkened streets. They headed north through Tottenham Court Road and soon the town was left behind and they were bowling along between open fields. It was a clear night, the rising moon giving sufficient light for the carriage to set a swift pace. The coach slowed as it climbed through the village of Hampstead. When they reached the open heath Jack drew rein and as the carriage came to a halt he guided his horse off the road into the cover of the stunted trees. He watched Eloise climb out. Silently he dismounted, secured his horse to a branch and followed her.

Eloise hesitated, glancing back at the coach drawn up behind her. The carriage lamps twinkled encouragingly and the solid shape of her coachman sitting up on the box was reassuring. She had also taken the precaution of asking Perkins to come with her. He had been her groom since she was a child and she was confident of his loyalty and discretion. Turning again to face the dark open heath, she took a deep breath and stepped forwards. She suspected it was not the autumnal chill in the night air that made her shiver as she moved along the narrow path. She felt dreadfully alone and had to remind herself that Perkins was discreetly following her. For perhaps the twentieth time since setting out she went over in her mind the instructions she had received in the letter that morning. The carriage had stopped at the fork in the road, as directed, and the path to the right between a boulder and small pond was easily found. She counted silently, thankful that the letter had stated the number of steps she would need to take rather than asking her to judge a half a mile: in her present nervous state she felt as if she had walked at least three miles already. There was sufficient light to see the path, but the trees and bushes on either side were menacingly black, and she had to force herself not to think how many malevolent creatures might be watching her from the shadows.

At one point she saw a black square on her left; a shepherd’s hut, she guessed, although there were no sheep or cattle visible on the heath. Then, ahead of her, she could make out the path splitting on either side of a fallen tree. She stopped and glanced about her. Everything was silent. Shivering, she stepped up and placed a package under the exposed roots of the tree.

There, it was done. She was just heaving a sigh of relief when she heard a scuffle and crashing in the bushes behind her. She turned in time to see Perkins dragging something large and heavy out from the bushes.

‘I got ’im, m’lady,’ he wheezed, ‘I’ve got yer villain!’

Eloise ran back and gazed down at the unconscious figure lying at the groom’s feet.

It was Major Jack Clifton.

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