Mary Nichols - The Reluctant Escort

‘It is quite true,’ Molly said, turning her ingenuous smile upon the constable. ‘I, too, can vouch for the Captain’s whereabouts, though I own he did leave me for twenty minutes or so. He had to arrange transport for us.’

‘Twenty minutes? No more?’

‘Oh, no more, I do assure you.’

‘And who are you, miss, if I might ask?’

‘Why, I am Captain Stacey’s wife,’ she said, favouring the man with a dazzling smile and ignoring the sound of Duncan choking on his food. ‘Who else would I be?’

The constable inclined his head towards Molly. ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am, but I must leave no stone unturned.’

‘And while you waste time turning over stones the thieves will have gone to ground.’ Duncan, who had quickly regained his scattered wits, decided he could not embarrass her by contradicting her, but it put him in a devil of a coil. He could hardly put her on a coach to Cromer and ride off in the opposite direction if they were supposed to be husband and wife travelling together. ‘Get out to the scene of the crime,’ he said in his most commanding voice. ‘Surely that is where you should begin?’

The man bowed again and left them and Duncan called the waiter to bring a pudding; he was still hungry, he said.

‘Don’t you think we should go?’ Molly asked. ‘If the constable sees your horse—or the man with the scar…’

‘I see you have added two and two and made five,’ he said, making inroads into the plum duff which had just been set before him. ‘Have some of this; it is delicious.’

‘No, thank you. I am no longer hungry. And I don’t know how you can sit there and eat so calmly when you know…’

He smiled at her. Her blue eyes were looking troubled; surely she was not worried on his account? He felt an unaccountable frisson of pleasure at the thought. ‘What do I know?’

‘More than you are saying. If you were not on the road this morning, you know very well who was.’

‘But you gave me an alibi. Surely you do not condone highway robbery?’

‘I know nothing of it. If you were to tell me…’

‘There is nothing to tell. And I wish you would not refine upon it. What I do is none of your business.’

‘I think it is,’ she said promptly. ‘If you had not panicked my horse, I would not have been thrown and you would not have had to bring me here. That was your fault. And now, because there is no coach going to Cromer until tomorrow, we must stay here like sitting ducks. Besides, you have already said your man—and I doubt not he is the robber with the scar—is packing to leave and I have confirmed you have been out to arrange transport, so leave we must.’

‘Of course we must; you made sure of that,’ he said. ‘We shall have to find another way of returning you to Stacey Manor.’ He stood up unhurriedly and beckoned the landlord for the reckoning. ‘Wait for me in the yard. I will be out directly.’

She went outside and, while waiting for him, wandered round to the stables. There was no sign of his horse, nor Jenny either; they had been spirited away. By the man with the scar? She turned as Duncan joined her. ‘Where are the horses?’

‘I did not like the stabling here; I have had them moved elsewhere where the fodder is better and the accommodation more to their liking.’

There was definitely something have-cavey going on and she was more intrigued than ever. ‘Then how do we go on?’

‘I have hired a curricle.’ He stood looking down at her; she was completely unafraid, but that was because she had never in her life come across anything to be afraid of. He hoped she never would, but she was more astute than he had given her credit for and now he must protect her. He had commanded men in battle, been responsible for their lives, but never before had he had such an obligation as this and it was making him uncomfortable.

His experience with women was with women of the world, who asked nothing for their favours but money or costly presents. There were female relatives, of course, and Beth, whom he had expected to marry. But Beth would never put herself into the position that Molly had done; Beth was too aware of what Society expected from her and what it was and was not permissible for a lady to do. Chasing after a man in the middle of the night would not have occurred to her.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked, as he escorted her back to the front of the inn, where a spanking curricle and a small brown horse were ready and waiting for them.

‘Norwich.’

‘South! Why, that is halfway to London!’

‘Not quite,’ he said laconically, helping her onto the vehicle and climbing up beside her. ‘But you have made it necessary for us to leave together and going north is not sensible, so Norwich it will have to be. Besides, the place is big enough for shopping and you need a change of clothes.’ He turned to look at her as he spoke.

Her riding habit was of some dull silk material and the matching skirt was quite plain, not distinctive, except that it was unusual for a young lady to wear such a garment for riding in a carriage and the skirt was too long and cumbersome for her to walk comfortably in town. It would be noted and if, in her innocence, she let slip whatever it was she thought she knew, suspicions would be aroused. Once she was suitably attired, he could put her on the coach to Cromer, under the chaperonage of another lady passenger.

‘We are going shopping! Oh, Captain, how very thoughtful you are! But I have no money.’

‘So you have said before. My pocket is at your disposal.’ He flicked the reins and they turned out of the yard at a smart trot.

‘And is it a very deep pocket?’

‘Not at all. We must be frugal.’

‘But I heard Sir John had a great deal of gold…’

‘You think I robbed that coach for gain?’ The annoyance was plain on his face as he turned to answer her. ‘Rakeshame I may be, but I do not stoop so low as to profit from another’s loss, unless it be at the card table.’

He had not exactly denied his involvement, she noted, only that he had not gained by it; she was more curious than ever and determined not to be sent back to Stacey Manor until she discovered the truth. ‘There are gentlemen highwaymen. I have heard of many instances where…’

‘And I collect you are a great reader. Romantic fiction, I’ll wager. The real world is not like that.’

‘No, perhaps it is not. But fiction hurts no one, does it? And if it provides a little light relief and entertainment, where’s the harm? I have my feet firmly on the ground.’

He laughed suddenly. ‘And your head in the clouds.’

She was silent for a moment, but only a moment. ‘What shall I be allowed to buy?’

‘Whatever you need for a coach ride and an overnight stay. By the time we arrive, it will be too late to go on.’ He knew perfectly well he was endangering her reputation, had in fact already compromised it, but it was her own fault; he had not asked her to provide him with an alibi. That was not to say he need not put his mind to finding ways and means of preserving her good name and he thought he might have the answer.

‘Mama said she would buy me a wardrobe when I went to London,’ she said rather wistfully. ‘You know you need a great many clothes for a Season. You should have seen what Mama bought. Trunks full. She showed them to me. Gowns for mornings, afternoons and evenings, for riding in carriages and walking and habits for riding, and hats and bonnets and ballgowns. She said it was absolutely essential to be well kitted out.’

‘Yes, ladies change their clothes a great many times a day, I believe,’ he said, watching her upturned face and sparkling eyes.

‘Mama’s ballgowns are all very beautiful. Of course, she is taller than I am, so they would not fit me. And she said they were unsuitable. I am not…’ She paused and treated him to her infectious laugh, which made the corners of his mouth twitch. ‘I am not as well rounded as Mama.’