Mary Nichols - The Reluctant Escort

‘No, I will eat in the dining room. And bring me paper and ink to write a letter, if you please.’

He conducted her to the dining room and offered her a table by the window where she could see everyone who came and went. Given the writing things she asked for, she sat down and scribbled a note to her godmother—telling her she was safe and well and under Captain Stacey’s protection—which she gave to the innkeeper to put on the next mail-coach, before beginning her meal.

She had hardly begun to eat when a rider galloped into the yard and dismounted. He was obviously in a great hurry and very agitated. Molly watched as a crowd gathered round him. From their shocked expressions, she gathered he was bringing news of some importance. He left the crowd outside and came into the dining room, where he announced to all and sundry that the Cromer stage had been waylaid by highwaymen on a quiet stretch of the road a dozen miles to the north.

‘Was anyone hurt?’ enquired the innkeeper while Molly reflected that if she had not overslept and if Captain Stacey had not decided to disappear she would have been on that coach. That really would have been an adventure and she was rather cross that she had missed it.

‘No. But they made everyone get out and they searched the coach very thorough,’ the man said. ‘They took Sir John Partridge’s gold and his watch and papers, but they let the ladies keep their jewellery.’

‘Where was the guard? Did he not try to stop them?’

‘The stage carried no guard. Sir John’s man had a pistol but he was so slow fetching it out, he was useless. The high toby took it from him as easy as you please.’

‘Then what happened?’

‘They made everyone return to their seats and told the coachman to drive on. Sir John demanded to know their names, as if they would be foolish enough to give them to him. One of them laughed and said he was called the Dark Knight.’

‘Where were you when all this was happening?’ demanded mine host.

‘I came upon the scene quite by chance, but there was nothing I could do. They had pistols and I was unarmed…’

‘How many of them?’

‘Two. Very big men, they were, and masked. I hid in the trees until it was safe to proceed.’

‘Which direction did the robbers take?’

‘To the coast, I think.’

The landlord sent a boy off to fetch a constable and there was talk of sending for the runners from London, but it was decided that by the time they arrived the highwaymen would be long gone. Doubtless Sir John would report the incident when the coach arrived in Cromer and constables sent from there to help search for the robbers.

In the middle of this discussion, Duncan strolled into the inn and sat down opposite Molly. He was dressed in soft buckskin breeches, a brown coat and a yellow and brown checked waistcoat. His boots and white neckcloth were pristine. She surmised that he could not have ridden very far, for the roads were dusty and there wasn’t a speck of it on him.

‘You have missed all the excitement,’ she told him. ‘The Cromer coach has been held up. They are even now sending for the watch.’

‘Is that so?’ He affected little interest. ‘I’m devilish hungry. Have you finished with that?’ He pointed to a tureen of vegetables and a platter containing pork chops.

‘Yes. Please help yourself. You will be paying for it, after all. I have no money.’

‘Dear me! Not even for the coach fare?’

‘No. I did not think I would need money. I was on horseback.’

‘And what would you have done if I had not returned?’ he asked, piling a plate with food. ‘I could simply have ridden off and left you. The landlord would not have been pleased when he discovered you could not pay for what you had eaten.’

‘He assured me you had said you would be back. I had no reason to doubt you.’

‘No reason not to doubt me either. You are too trusting, my dear.’

‘But you did come back, so I was right.’

‘Tell me,’ he said, tucking into the chops. ‘What did you intend when you followed me last night? Not a journey to London, I’ll wager, or you would have come better prepared.’

‘No, I saw you leave and was curious as to why you travelled by night, that was all. I wanted to see where you were going. And riding in the dark is something I never tried before and I like doing new things. I did not think of Mama, until we started to talk about her. And then it seemed the very thing to join her in London.’ She sighed. ‘And you left me asleep, so I missed my adventure.’

‘Adventure?’

‘Yes, being held up by highwaymen. Do you suppose they stole a kiss from the ladies? But I collect the man said they took nothing from the ladies, only from Sir John Partridge.’

‘What man?’ Duncan tried not to let his real interest show.

‘The man who saw it all. I think he must be a little nervous and not at all heroic, for he said he hid and only rode on when it was all over.’

‘What else did he say?’

‘There were two of them, heavily armed, and afterwards they rode towards the coast. Everyone seems to think they had a boat waiting for them and are long gone.’

‘Very likely,’ he said, allowing himself to relax. ‘Now, what are we to do about you?’

‘The landlord says the next Cromer coach is not until tomorrow. We shall have to ride back.’

‘We, Miss Martineau? I cannot spare the time escorting a chit about the countryside; I should have been on my way long ago…’

Before he could go on, they were interrupted by the arrival of the local constable, who had come to take charge of the investigation into the robbery. He began by questioning the witness whose tale lost nothing in repetition. In fact, it gained a detail or two. The chief of the highwaymen was of a dark countenance, dressed all in black, and he rode a big black horse with a white flash on its nose. His accomplice was older and smaller by six inches and had a scar near his left eye, though it could not all be seen on account of the mask he wore.

Molly had pricked up her ears when she’d heard the description of the horse. She had ridden on the back of such a one not five hours since but, she told herself severely, there must be many black horses with white noses and many men with dark looks. She glanced across at the Captain who was placidly eating and told herself she was imagining things. To have arrived back in the inn so soon after the hold-up, he would, like the man who had witnessed it, have had to ride hard, but he was completely unruffled and showed every evidence of a leisurely toilette.

She noticed Duncan lift his head as another man came in. Did she imagine he nodded towards Duncan before passing through the room and out of the door towards the stairs? What was unmistakable was the scar on his face.

‘Captain,’ she whispered, reaching across and touching his hand to attract his attention. ‘That man who just went out. He had a scar…’

‘So have a great many men, I should think,’ he said, without even bothering to look up from his meal.

‘But one of the robbers…’

‘Miss Martineau, you must learn to curb your imagination, you know, or you will land yourself in more trouble than a little.’

‘You know him, don’t you?’

‘Miss Mar…’ He stopped short when the bulk of the constable loomed over them.

‘Sir, may I ask what you know of this matter?’ he asked. ‘I am told you have recently arrived and from a northerly direction.’

‘If by recent you mean five hours or thereabouts,’ Duncan said laconically, ‘then I suppose you could say I have.’

‘Hours, you say? I was told you entered the room but fifteen minutes ago.’

‘So I did. From my bedroom. My man will vouch for me. He is even now packing for our departure.’