Highwayman's Hazard Page 10

  'Let us go.'

  Jacob rode beside her as soon as the path widened sufficiently, while Sir Charles rode ahead with the man who had remained to guide them. He looked at her sympathetically.

  'Sir Charles told me you were hurt,' he said slowly. 'I hope it is not too serious. He also swore me to secrecy about the cave. He said it might distress Clarinda. She is so shy and might not understand. And, of course, there is your reputation to think of. We decided to say we all spent the night at a farmhouse.'

  This intelligence unaccountably annoyed Sarah, and as soon as she could she drew her horse level with Sir Charles.

  'Jacob has told me what you have concocted,' she said curtly. 'I really think I might have been consulted. After all, it is my reputation you are all so concerned about.'

  'Do you want it known what really happened?' he said, laughing down at her in what she privately thought was a most conceited way. 'Are you attempting to force me to save your reputation?'

  As she realised the implication of his words she blushed angrily, and as her grip tightened on the reins her mount pranced ahead of him.

  'I need no one, least of all a highwayman, to save my reputation,' she flung back at him.

  'Good,' he replied crisply. 'You would not wish Clarinda to be any more concerned than she is likely to be over her own situation, I imagine? Then pray take care not to confide too much to her.'

  Furiously angry, Sarah drew back to ride again with Jacob, more than ever sure he loved Clarinda and would sacrifice everything for her. Even, if necessary, she thought viciously, my reputation if it served his purpose.

  *

  The way they followed twisted and turned across the moors, and Sarah knew that they would never have found it without help, but at length they came upon a small neat house hidden away in a slight hollow. Several horses were turned out into a paddock at the side, and Sarah recognised the grey Clarinda had been riding the previous day.

  'It would seem the entire party is still here,' Sir Charles commented, and throwing the reins to Sarah he dismounted and strode to the door, hammering on it loudly.

  After a moment one of the small windows above was flung open, and Sir Gilbert, his night cap askew, leaned out.

  'What the devil is it? Can't you leave folk in peace until a decent hour?'

  'Good morning, dear Sir Gilbert,' Sir Charles replied softly. 'I am sorry to disturb you, but it is almost nine o'clock, and time we were setting off to return to Harrogate. Pray inform Miss Middlewick her friends are here to escort her home.'

  Sir Gilbert now saw the group of horsemen with Sir Charles, and for a moment he seemed about to hurl abuse at him. Then, with a great effort of control he smiled thinly.

  'She will be astonished to see so many of you,' he replied abruptly. 'I will admit you as soon as possible. A moment.'

  His head disappeared, and Sir Charles lounged negligently against the wall, though Sarah noted his hand was very close to his pocket where she knew he had a pistol. Within a short time Captain Gregory threw open the door and stood on the threshold casting an amused glance at the group of horsemen. His eyes passed over Sarah, and then he looked back at her, puzzled. She blushed furiously as he smiled in sudden comprehension, and wished she had not, in her haste, forgotten to put on her cousin's wig.

  'Well, well, my friends. What catastrophe brings you here in such force at such an unearthly hour?' he asked mockingly.

  'I do apologise if it is inconvenient for you,' Sir Charles replied suavely, 'but we keep early hours in the country. Pray inform Miss Middlewick of our arrival.'

  'The lady is coming, when she has been given time to dress. She was still abed, you see,' he added, smiling. 'Will you not come inside while you wait?'

  'We need not incommode you so far,' Sir Charles began, but was interrupted by a voice from within the house.

  'If they are friends of dear Clarinda, pray beg them step inside,' Sarah heard, and she frowned, puzzled. It was a woman's voice, but not that of Louise. The words and the tone did not suggest a servant or housekeeper, yet who else could be here?

  As she puzzled over this the woman came to the door, Captain Gregory stepping outside to permit her passage. She was elderly, her hair grey and neatly pinned back, and dressed in a plain but well cut black silk gown with a white lace fichu and lace cuffs. A small, old fashioned cap perched on her head. She surveyed the visitors calmly.

  'Good morning, sir. I do not think we have met. I am Mrs Woodford, Sir Gilbert's aunt, and I act as his hostess when he is residing here.'

  Sarah gasped as Sir Charles raised one eyebrow slightly.

  'Good morning, ma'am. Sir Charles Orde, at your service.'

  'Do come in. It will be some time, I think, before Miss Clarinda is ready for breakfast, but we would be pleased for you to join us.'

  Sir Charles inclined his head. 'It is most kind.'

  'Tie the horses over there in the shade. It is already hot.'

  'What does this mean?' Sarah hissed at Sir Charles, as he led her horse across to the fence where some trees cast deep shadow.

  'I intend to discover it,' he replied softly. 'The Captain appeared to recognise you, so you had best admit your identity.'

  'I forgot the wig,' she answered crossly.

  'I do not think that would have served with anyone who is familiar to you. Let me help you down. How is the ankle now?'

  'Painful,' she said, catching her breath as she tried to walk.

  'Then take my arm. Yes, what is it?' he said, turning to the villager who had guided them to the house.

  'I'll be off now, sir, if you please. You'll be able to find the way back now?'

  'Yes, and thank you. We will arrange to collect the injured horse when we pass through the village.'

  *

  He touched his forelock and turned away. Jacob, bursting with curiosity and determined not to miss a moment of these strange doings, was already waiting beside the door as Sarah hobbled towards it. The Captain, his eyes glinting, stepped towards Sarah.

  'It is Miss Smith, is it not? How delightful you look in male attire. But you are hurt. Will you not permit me to carry you into the house?'

  'I can manage perfectly well, thank you,' Sarah snapped, and clung grimly to Sir Charles's helping arm.

  'As you choose, my dear young lady. This way.'

  He led them through a small square entrance hall and into a dining parlour to one side of the house. A side table was lavishly provided with cold meats and pies, cheese and eggs, and the mingled smells of fresh bread and steaming coffee greeted them. Mrs Woodford was waiting for them.

  'Pray be seated,' she invited graciously, and Sarah sank into a chair. 'I understand you are Miss Clarinda's cousin,' she added, looking at Sarah.

  Sarah smiled warily. At least the woman did not appear to be scandalised, she thought, and then wondered why she should care what any connection of the detestable Sir Gilbert thought of her. Her head went up and she stared hard at the woman.

  'We did not know Clarinda was to be away for the night,' she said coldly.

  'Oh? Perhaps you are mistaken, my dear. Surely she would have obtained her grandmother's permission?'

  'She did not know. It was to be an expedition to Pateley Bridge only. What caused her to come further?'

  'Sarah! My dear, is it really you in so dashing an outfit?'

  Louise had come into the room and stood staring in apparent delight at Sarah. The latter cast a slightly bewildered glance at Sir Charles, but he was looking past Louise to where Clarinda was coming through the doorway.

  'Clarinda, why did you not tell us?' Sarah demanded, rising to her feet and wincing as she forgot not to stand on her injured leg.

  'Sarah! What in the world are you doing here?'

  'I came after you, of course. Why did you not tell us?'

  'Your grandmother did not receive my message? Oh, how dreadful!' Louise exclaimed.

  'I think there is some need to make explanations,' Sir Charles intervened smoothly,
and guided Clarinda into a chair next to him.

  'Where is Sir Gilbert?' she asked, looking about her in some anxiety.

  'He will be down – ah, here he is,' Mrs Woodford replied. 'Now be seated, all of you, and let us sort out this mystery.'

  'Mrs Middlewick does not appear to have received my message,' Louise explained to Sir Gilbert, who came into the room just then, nodding unsmilingly at the visitors. 'Sarah has come to fetch her. I cannot think what danger she imagined she was rescuing poor dear Clarinda from,' she added with a laugh, and Sarah pursed her lips.

  'What message was this?' Sir Charles asked quietly.

  'Why, I sent my groom back. You see, we had ridden a little way past Pateley Bridge when Sir Gilbert met us, and it was such a surprise. I had no idea he was back in Harrogate.'

  *

  Sarah opened her mouth to speak and then snapped it shut again. There was something wrong here, for the man she had met had said Sir Gilbert had met them at Summer Bridge, and he had implied the arrangement was already made. Why was Louise trying to suggest it was an accidental meeting?

  Louise was continuing. 'We rode a little way farther, and when we realised it would be very late by the time we had ridden home again, Sir Gilbert kindly suggested we came here instead. He has been promising to show us his home, and it was by far the best thing to do by then. Did my groom not reach Mrs Middlewick?'

  Before Sarah could reply Sir Charles spoke.

  'We must have set out before he did. I persuaded Miss Smith to ride with me to meet you on the way home, and when we discovered at Pateley Bridge that you had not returned, we came further and met a fellow who directed us here. He had seen you and recognised Sir Gilbert,' he concluded blandly.

  Clarinda had been very subdued after her first greeting, for the most part staring down into her lap, but glancing occasionally across the table at Louise and Sir Gilbert. Now she spoke.

  'Do you think Grandmama received the message after you left, Sarah? Oh, dear, she will be so concerned about us!'

  'She will know Sarah was safe with me, and will almost certainly have received Mrs Erskine's message. But I think we must ride back immediately in order to relieve any anxiety she is feeling. Eat something, Miss Middlewick, and then we can be off.'

  He smiled tenderly down at Clarinda, and she obediently began to eat some of the thin slices of ham that had been carved for her. Sarah swallowed the many questions she had been longing to ask and began to eat her own breakfast. Jacob, who had said nothing beyond his first greeting, looked round at everyone quickly and then busied himself with some mutton pie and a tankard of ale.

  It was a long, tedious journey back to Harrogate. Sir Gilbert rode assiduously beside Sarah, and she could not demand to be told the truth from Clarinda, who remained at Sir Charles's side during the whole ride. Anticipating finding Clarinda in desperate fear, possibly having been forced to undergo a ceremony of marriage to Sir Gilbert, or ravished by him, and needing to be rescued by force from a strongly guarded fortress, the outcome was a considerable anti-climax, she thought ruefully. Though she was thankful no harm had come to Clarinda, she hastily added to herself, she could not understand the calm, almost peaceful demeanour of her friend.

  As soon as they had parted from the others, however, and had been met by a considerably perturbed Mrs Middlewick, her control deserted her.

  'What shall I do? Oh, how could he? Grandmama, you must tell him I will not!' she uttered, between wild sobs.

  'My lamb, my precious, what is it? Did that devil hurt you?' Mrs Middlewick demanded, cradling Clarinda's head in her lap as the girl threw herself to the floor in an abandonment of despair.

  'Papa!' was all they could distinguish for a while, and while Mrs Middlewick stroked Clarinda's hair and patted her hands, Sarah gave her a swift account of what had happened, carefully avoiding all mention of the night she had spent in the cave with Sir Charles, allowing it to be thought they had found shelter in the village.

  'I did get the message, long after dark, but I had no notion where you were, although I was certain you could take care of yourself,' Mrs Middlewick said to Sarah, smiling as she spoke. 'It was Clarinda I feared for, thinking she might be forced into some promises.'

  'I do not know what his plans were, but if that woman really was his aunt, and she was to all appearances of good breeding, it had the correct air of respectability,' Sarah admitted.

  'Papa, he said Papa had agreed,' Clarinda, calmer now, sobbed.

  'Agreed?'

  'He – Sir Gilbert, said he had Papa's permission to pay his addresses, and Papa was going to come straight to Harrogate and take me home, and he wanted me to see his house before we were married. He said Papa was angry with me, but would forgive me, and Mama was making arrangements for the wedding, which is to be as soon as possible,' Clarinda explained breathlessly, and burst into another fit of weeping. 'I will not marry him,' she sobbed over and over again.

  'You shall not be forced to. I'll tell your Papa that,' Mrs Middlewick consoled her, and then persuaded Clarinda, worn out with two long days in the saddle and her anxiety, to retire to bed.

  *

  Comforted with hot milk she soon fell asleep, and Sarah went to the parlour to give Mrs Middlewick a fuller account of what had occurred.

  'It was clearly arranged beforehand by Louise,' she concluded. 'The man I met told me a different story to what Louise said.'

  'She's proved a false friend, and I was so hoping my little one would meet a man she could be happy with, and one her father would approve of,' Mrs Middlewick said with a sigh.

  'It may not be too late,' Sarah said thoughtfully. 'It has occurred to me Sir Charles Orde has taken great pains to help Clarinda, and seems to admire her. And she is very comfortable with him, now she has overcome her first fears when she thought of him as a highwayman.'

  Mrs Middlewick looked at her hopefully.

  'Sir Charles? Is he really interested, do you think? He is a man I could happily trust her to.'

  'He was frantic when he caught up with me last night,' Sarah told her. 'I truly think if he had discovered Clarinda had been harmed he would have been ready to kill Sir Gilbert.'

  'He has a title, but no fortune.'

  'Neither had Lord Tarbuck any fortune. And think how right it would be, for he should have inherited Forleys. If he married Clarinda it would go back to him.'

  'Is that why he is concerned with her?' Mrs Middlewick asked sharply. 'Does he hope to regain his house through her?'

  'I am certain he loves her. If only he would speak before her father arrives!'

  With that hope she retired to bed, but tossed and turned for most of the night. Her ankle pained, but much less than the previous night, and her thoughts kept returning to the strange way she had spent those few hours of darkness, clasped for a time in the comforting arms of Sir Charles. Clarinda would be very fortunate if he did offer for her, she concluded as she finally fell into an uneasy doze.

  *

  The next morning Mrs Middlewick, saying Clarinda looked worn out, insisted on her remaining in bed. Clarinda was only too thankful to do so, fearing that her father would appear at any moment and anxious to postpone the meeting and the scolding he was bound to give her. Mrs Middlewick went out to do the marketing since Sarah was still hobbling about painfully, and Sarah was sitting in the parlour mending a pile of sheets when Sir Charles was announced.

  'I came to see how you both did,' he said, seating himself in a chair beside her. 'Pray, do not allow me to disturb your work.'

  'Clarinda is still very shaken,' she told him. 'Did she tell you her father has given Sir Gilbert his approval?'

  He looked at her quickly, and she read the concern in his eyes.

  'No, she said nothing to me. What does she say?'

  'She is distraught. She fears and detests the man. Her father is determined to secure a title for her, though. He does not ask for a fortune as well,' she added encouragingly.

  'Clarinda has her own,' he co
mmented lightly. 'It could be a barrier for a man without adequate means.'

  'Not if he had a title,' Sarah insisted.

  'If you were wealthy, would you be willing to marry a man who might be more interested in your money?' he asked ruefully.

  'If I were sure he wanted me and not my money I would not care,' Sarah responded warmly, 'and neither would Clarinda. I hate marriages which are more concerned with matching fortunes than making the two people most closely involved happy.'

  'You are a romantic,' he commented with a laugh. 'Love should be the only consideration, is that what you maintain?'

  'Yes, and so does Clarinda.'

  'Is there someone she loves?'

  'She has not confided in me, but there was no one at home,' Sarah reassured him, and found that her hands were trembling.

  Hastily she hid them underneath her sewing. What was happening to her that she should be so nervous? She stole a glance at him and found him looking at her, an enigmatic smile on his face.

  'A rustic idyll, love in a cottage. Is that what you dream of for yourself?' he asked. 'Would Clarinda suffer that fate?'

  'She would never need to,' Sarah replied.

  'She would if a man of honour married her, one who refused to live on her money. Would she accept that? Would you?'

  'I think he would be foolish to insist on it. Why should it matter whether the man or the woman possesses a great fortune? It should belong to them both.'

  'A real man would never agree to such an arrangement, my dear Sarah. That is why – ' he stopped as there was a knock on the door, and it opened to admit Mrs Middlewick's youngest maid. She looked flustered.

  'Miss Sarah, oh, I do beg your pardon, but I didn't know what to do, and Mrs Middlewick is out, and Miss Clarinda still in her room, but it's her Pa, and another gentleman. Oh, Miss, what shall I say?'

  'Can you not announce us, foolish wench?' demanded the angry voice of Mr Middlewick, and Sarah rose to her feet, her sewing forgotten, and her hand steadying herself on the table beside her as the extremely irate gentleman stalked into the room.

  He halted suddenly, looking at Sir Charles who rose slowly to his feet, and then towards Sarah, and began to speak. She paid him no heed, however, for she was looking in amazement at his companion.