Mary Nichols - The Reluctant Escort

He could not tell Frank the other reason why he was even considering taking her with them because it had nothing to do with his own plight. He wanted to make her happy and if taking her to her mother made her happy, then why should he not do it? But not as his wife. Never that. ‘We must make ourselves into a proper escort and that means another female and a coach and horses.’

‘Oh, yes, please,’ Molly said, brightening. ‘That would be the very thing. I could enter London in style and no one would think any the worse of me.’ She stopped and gave him a meaningful look. ‘Nor you either. Everyone would admire you for it and your reputation would be quite restored.’

‘What do you say, Frank?’ Duncan asked him. ‘Would Martha act the maid?’

‘Martha?’

‘Yes, why not?’

‘Who is Martha?’ Molly demanded.

‘She is my wife,’ Frank said. ‘But she has never been a lady’s maid. She would have no idea how to go on.’

‘Oh, I could soon tell her,’ Molly said. ‘There is really nothing to it and I should so like a female companion. Do say you agree.’

‘What is the alternative?’ Duncan demanded of his friend. ‘Turn and ride back to Stacey Manor and take our chances with the local constabulary, who will by now have been reinforced by those from Cromer and Norwich, or leave the young lady here to manage by herself?’

‘No, I am not so lacking in conduct as to do that. I’ll fetch Martha.’

‘Good. Where are our horses?’

‘Fed and watered and grazing in a field nearby.’

‘Then Molly and I will ride into Norwich in the morning with your mount. You take the curricle and bring Martha to us at The Bell.’

Molly, who did not fancy an evening spent in the company of the card players and the nagging farmer’s wife, said she wanted to retire as soon as they had finished supper. Duncan cast a glance at the men, who seemed intent on their cards, but he knew they would hear any orders he gave; he could not let it be known she was a single lady and was left with no alternative but to ask for a room to be prepared for his wife.

Once this was done, she bade him goodnight with a great show of wifely affection. She was in a cheerful mood because he had fallen in with her scheme to pretend to be husband and wife, if only for one night. This was a grand adventure and so long as he remained with her she had nothing to fear.

As soon as Molly had been conducted from the room, Frank turned on him. ‘Captain, you must be mad. Do you know how much this escapade is likely to cost? And we have nothing left, unless you have been holding out on me. Every farthing of what we took has been passed on as you instructed.’

‘Good. I knew I could rely on you.’ He was beginning to realise how poor people felt when their whole lives must be lived in search of money to buy food and shelter. There was never any time for anything else. No wonder some of the soldiers returning from the war with no way of earning a living and a family to care for turned to crime.

‘But now we have pockets to let again,’ Frank went on, speaking more bluntly than would have been considered fitting between master and servant in any other circumstances. ‘It is always the same with you, Captain. It seems money is an embarrassment to you.’

‘It is when so many of my fellows have nothing. They fought as hard as I did, and under more difficult conditions; they deserve all I can do for them. Especially for their widows.’

‘So, how will you convey the lady to London?’

‘With good luck, by post chaise, with a little less by stagecoach.’

Frank sighed heavily. ‘I suppose it is useless for me to point out that petticoats are a bad omen…’

‘Not this one. I have a feeling she will bring me the best luck in the world. Nor can you say Martha has brought you anything else.’

Frank owned himself defeated. ‘Do you want me to leave now?’

‘Yes, otherwise Molly will be unchaperoned yet another night.’

Still grumbling, Frank got up and left the inn. Duncan watched him go, then put the rest of the evening to good use by joining the card players when one of their number lost everything and was forced to stop. By dawn, he was richer by several guineas. It was enough to pay for their lodging and for Molly’s shopping expedition, though he would have to warn her against extravagance.

Pretending to be too drunk to go to bed, he dozed for an hour or two on a settle. He could not join Molly and asking for a separate room would have looked decidedly odd. Besides, he risked over-sleeping and he wanted to be on hand if Molly took it into her head to do something foolish or talk to strangers; she could not know how risky that might be.

As soon as Molly woke, she rose, washed in cold water from the jug on the wash-stand and, once more attired in the now bedraggled riding habit, went downstairs. In the corridor, she met the innkeeper’s wife busy sweeping the floor. Molly bade her good morning and asked if the Captain was up and about.

‘Yes, ma’am. Did you sleep so sound you didn’t know he hadn’t come to bed?’

She was momentarily disconcerted, but, remembering her role, smiled. ‘I must have.’

‘He’s pacing the floor, chafing at the bit, waiting for you.’

Molly hurried to join him, but, far from pacing the floor, he was sitting at the breakfast table, apparently at ease. There was no one else in the room. He rose as she came towards him and pulled out a chair for her.

‘Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?’

‘Yes, thank you. But you did not, I believe. The innkeeper’s wife told me you did not go to bed. Where were you?’

‘In the next room, enjoying the company of friends.’

‘Friends? I did not know you were acquainted with anyone here.’

‘I used the term loosely.’

‘Is that the usual behaviour of a man towards his wife when travelling?’

‘It is certainly not so out of the ordinary as to excite comment and it was better than invading your privacy, my dear. Besides, I put the time to good use.’ He jingled a pocketful of coins.

‘Gaming.’

‘Yes.’

‘And did you win?’

‘Naturally, I did.’

‘Is that how you make a living?’

‘It is one of the ways. Now, please have some breakfast. We must be on our way as soon as you are ready.’ He indicated the platters of ham and eggs as he poured her a cup of coffee from the pot at his elbow.

She sat down and helped herself. ‘And another way is holding up coaches. I cannot believe that someone as educated as you are should stoop to crime. I do believe there is more to it than meets the eye.’

‘Is that so?’ he asked laconically, wondering if she could possibly have stumbled on the truth. But no; clever she might be, but not that clever. ‘And are you going to tell me your theory?’