A Country Gentleman (19 page)

‘You know where she’s gone, then?’

‘I imagine she’s on her way to Gretna Green – with Lord Riseholm,’ his mother said placidly.

‘What?’ roared the earl. Lilly, who had a pronounced aversion to loud noises, immediately slunk behind her ladyship’s skirts and looked reproachfully at her master, her tail between her legs.

‘Now see what you have done,’ said the countess as she stroked the dog soothingly. ‘Poor Lilly is shaking.’

‘So am I,’ he answered, holding on to his temper with difficulty. ‘Explain, Mother, for the love of God.’

‘What would you do if I said that she had eloped with him?’ she asked him curiously.

‘Ride after them and kill the bastard, for by heaven he doesn’t deserve her,’ he answered fiercely.

She smiled. ‘Lavinia hasn’t eloped with him,’ she said. ‘They have gone in pursuit of Isobel who has eloped with Benjamin Twizzle.’

‘Benjamin Twizzle? Good God, why?’ he exclaimed. ‘I thought she barely knew the man. Does the silly chit have any brains at all?’

‘Apparently he found out that she was corresponding with Riseholm. He threatened to tell you unless she gave him money.’

‘But why go to him rather than to me?’ he asked. He had begun his sentence in an indignant tone. By the end of it, his voice had slowed, and his face had turned a dull red.

‘I don’t suppose she dared,’ his mother said frankly. ‘She was afraid that you would send her back to London post haste.’

‘She was probably right,’ he agreed ruefully. ‘She needed the money to elope, of course.’

‘What money?’

‘She broke into my desk,’ he told her. ‘By God, though, who but Isobel Macclesfield would think to solve her problems by marrying her blackmailer?’

‘It is ingenious, you must admit,’ said Lady Thurlby. ‘But quite unsuitable. Benjamin Twizzle is a sadly unsteady young man, and in any case, Isobel is in love with Lord Riseholm.’

‘Who has gone off with Lavinia –
my
Lavinia – quite
unchaperoned
.’ Her ladyship thought about Miss Tasker and Mr Ames, but said nothing. ‘No matter that they are in pursuit of another couple, if it becomes known that Lavinia has been in company with his rakeship, her reputation will be blasted beyond repair.’ He set off down the passage with hasty strides. ‘Don’t fear, Mama. I shall bring her back.’

She smiled, holding Lilly’s collar to prevent her following her master. ‘I know you will, my son,’ she said. But she spoke to the empty air.

Chapter Nineteen

T
wizzle eyed Isobel suspiciously as they got into the conveyance that he had ordered at her request. ‘If you had enough money to hire this carriage, why didn’t you have any to give me?’ he asked, frowning.

Very unusually for her, Isobel blushed. ‘This is an emergency,’ she said. Following her conversation with Twizzle, she had
scurried
up to her room and had quickly thrust a few necessary provisions into a couple of band boxes.

The next step had taken rather more fortitude. She had caught sight of Lord Thurlby clattering away from the house on
horseback
as if all the fiends in Hell were after him. Lavinia had run crying into the garden. Miss Wheatman was out, and she had heard Lady Thurlby’s abigail say that she was lying down on her bed, after her early morning start.

Those facts established, she had cautiously made her way into Lord Thurlby’s study and had prepared to hunt in his desk for any money that might be there. The desk had been locked, with no key in sight, but a sturdy-looking dagger had been on display on the wall. She thought guiltily of how Lord Thurlby’s desk now sported a broken lock from where she had forced it. She had few scruples, but even she had felt uncomfortable about that. She was glad that she had not had very much time to think about what she was doing or her courage might have failed.

She sighed. Her host could not possibly think worse of her than he already did, and in any case, once she was married, she would be able to give him back his money and even, if he were so mean as to demand it, to pay for the repair of the desk. What was more, with her out of the way, Lavinia would be able to tell Thurlby the truth and they would be reconciled. At least some good would come out of the situation. When she thought about the matter in that light, she was really doing them a favour.

‘Are you sure that no one will follow us?’ Benjamin Twizzle asked his bride-to-be as they trundled along in the hired coach, moving more slowly than either of them would have preferred.

‘No. No one,’ Isobel answered. ‘That is the beauty of it, you see. Nobody cares what happens to me.’ She tried to sound airy rather than despondent, but truth to tell, it was rather a depressing thought. Riseholm was far away in London, dancing attendance upon the insipid Miss Egan; Lavinia would be glad to see the back of one who had dragged her into all kinds of misunderstandings; Caroline Tasker would hate her for trying to steal her fiancé; and Lord Thurlby would only come after her in order to have her arrested for stealing his money.

‘That’s all right, then,’ answered Twizzle, supremely unconcerned as to what her feelings might be. The elopement, never part of his plan, had been thrust upon him at the last minute, but he was prepared to make the best of it. They had made good time, and as he looked at the enchantingly beautiful and exceedingly rich Miss Macclesfield, he decided that marriage to an heiress might not be so bad.

He was just engaged in a delightful day-dream, which involved driving up to the door of a fashionable tailor’s shop in London in a dashing curricle, entering the establishment, then emerging shortly afterwards in a new suit of clothes which caused every other gentleman to gasp with envy, when the carriage came to a halt, and a voice called out, ‘Stand and deliver!’

‘Highwaymen!’ Isobel exclaimed apprehensively.

Twizzle was just as apprehensive, but for different reasons. In the voice of the highwayman, he had recognized the tones of his adversary and former gambling partner, Cyrus Nightshade. There was always the chance that Nightshade supplemented his income with a little highway robbery, but somehow Twizzle doubted it. It was far more likely that he had come in pursuit of his debt. Although startled by his appearance, Twizzle was not initially very worried at the arrival of Nightshade. He had, after all, given an assurance that he was to marry an heiress, and here he was doing so. Where was the problem?

Judging that the less that Isobel knew about this the better, Twizzle said boldly ‘You may leave this to me, my dear,’ and stepped down from the coach, hoping to engage Nightshade in conversation out of earshot. ‘Well, fellow? What is this all about?’ he said in as high-handed a tone as he could muster.

‘I’ll tell you what it’s about, my young buck,’ said Nightshade, his rather sneering voice laced with a slight Midlands accent. ‘It’s about a certain debt as is owed to one Cyrus Nightshade by one Benjamin Twizzle.’

Looking round, Benjamin saw that his adversary was
accompanied
by three men, all of whom remained on horseback, whilst Nightshade had dismounted and entrusted his reins to one of his accomplices. He now stood very much at his ease. A blond, tall, heavily built man, he always made Benjamin feel like a mere stripling. ‘You’ll have your money,’ Benjamin insisted, glancing anxiously back at the coach, where Isobel’s head could be seen emerging from the window.

‘So you say,’ answered Nightshade, his thumbs hooked into the armholes of a rather lurid waistcoat, which could be seen beneath his serviceable drab riding coat. ‘But the mystery is, why when I’m patiently waiting for my money at our agreed meeting place, you go galloping off with your fancy piece in the opposite
direction
. I very much resent having to turn out in person, I can tell you.’

‘I’ve told your man,’ Benjamin protested. ‘I’m engaged to be married to an heiress. Her family has taken exception to me, so now we’re fleeing to the border. Once we’re married, I’ll let you have the money all right and tight.’

Suddenly conscious of a movement behind him, he turned his head to find Isobel walking towards them. She was dressed for travelling in a dark blue carriage dress. Certainly, she looked very attractive as always; but she had made an effort to be
inconspicuous
, and there was nothing about her that shouted ‘wealth’.

‘Heiress, eh?’ remarked Nightshade with a grin. ‘Couldn’t she afford to hire a decent carriage and horses?’

‘Who is this person?’ Isobel asked at her haughtiest.

Nightshade shoved his face very close to hers. ‘I tell you who I am, missy. I’m the man who your lover-boy here owes a debt to.’

‘And what has that to do with me?’ Isobel demanded.

‘Why, it seems, missy, that you’re the one with the money to pay me.’

‘Me?’ exclaimed Isobel incredulously.

‘Money, or jewels,’ explained Nightshade. ‘Never say I’m not broad-minded.’

‘I haven’t got a bean,’ retorted Isobel, ‘And my guardian keeps my jewels under lock and key.’

There was a short silence. ‘It seems to me,’ said Mr Nightshade looking from one to the other, ‘that one of you is telling lies. Now, which might it be?’

Normally, Benjamin Twizzle had plenty to say. He now found himself in the unusual position of being at something of a loss. His instinct for self-preservation prompted him to declare that his betrothed certainly did have money, although at present she did not carry it upon her person. On the other hand, his sense of chivalry, never very strong, but always buried deep inside, protested that to make her a target for Nightshade’s rapacity was hardly fair.

While he was still wondering what to say, Isobel spoke. ‘I can
see no reason why I should feel obliged to explain my financial circumstances to you, you nasty little man,’ she told Nightshade. Then, turning to Benjamin Twizzle, she said, ‘Were you really proposing to pay your debts to this man out of
my
money?’

He grinned weakly. ‘Well, man and wife – one flesh, don’t you know?’ he murmured.

‘If you suppose that I have the slightest intention of marrying you after this débâcle, then you have another think coming,’ Isobel declared. ‘I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on earth!’

‘Well, damn it all, that’s the outside of enough when I consider how desperate you were to get away,’ Twizzle retorted. ‘And, if I recall correctly, you were the one who wanted to elope.’

‘Only because I could not think of another way out of my
difficulties
. If there had been any other course of action, I would have taken it, believe you me.’

‘There’s no need to get so uppity with me. I first met you travelling upon the common stage, remember.’

‘Yes, I do remember, and I suppose that I should not be surprised at that for there has never ever been anyone I have met who was as common as you.’

‘Well, I like that!’ protested Twizzle.

Their conversation was interrupted at this point by the sound of a pistol being fired into the air by Mr Nightshade. Isobel then immediately demanded what he wanted, as it appeared to her that he was poking his nose into matters which were none of his business.

Mr Nightshade was now faced with a dilemma. Three possible courses of action lay before him: one was to escort this
ill-assorted
couple to the border, make sure that they married and then demand his money. This seemed to him to be fraught with difficulties, one being the length of the journey, during which all kinds of things could go wrong, including the danger of her
relatives
coming in pursuit. The other major problem was the temper
of the young lady, which seemed to indicate that she would struggle vociferously every step of the way, and possibly make such a fuss over the anvil that the blacksmith would refuse to marry them at all.

Another possible course of action, of course, would be to dispense with Mr Twizzle altogether and simply kidnap the heiress for ransom. This, to Mr Nightshade’s mind, had one major drawback: he had had an acquaintance who had kidnapped an heiress. That acquaintance was presently hanging in chains on a gibbet, kidnapping being a capital offence. What was more, Nightshade had never heard of the Macclesfield fortune, and he only had Twizzle’s word for it that there was one. Their means of flight – a rather shabby hired coach and two horses – did not argue any extraordinary degree of affluence; nor was the reference to travelling on the stage very encouraging. In addition, the young lady had been heard to say that she had no money available. Nightshade’s experience of fortunes was that more often than not, they were tied up so securely that it was impossible to get at them, especially if a young lady went against her family’s wishes.

There was the third course of action, the least risky to his way of thinking, and this was what he now resolved to take. ‘Well this has all been very pleasant, chatting away,’ he said. ‘But it’s time we was on our way. I’m not a vengeful man, so you can have your traps.’ He nodded to one of his men, who got into the coach and threw out Benjamin’s cloak bag, followed by the two band boxes which comprised all the luggage that Isobel had brought with her.

‘What are you doing?’ Isobel demanded, as one of the boxes rolled over, the top came off and some gloves fell out.

‘I’m having this coach in settlement of the debt,’ said Nightshade. He knew how to shift such a vehicle quickly, no one being the wiser.

‘But … but you can’t do that!’ exclaimed Twizzle. ‘Everyone’ll blame me.’

‘My heart bleeds for you,’ said Nightshade sarcastically, as he remounted his horse. One of his men had climbed onto the box, having tied his own horse behind the carriage. ‘There’s a village only a few miles on. I should get walking if I was you. Not a nice place to linger in. Couple like you could easily get set upon by highwaymen.’

Isobel and Twizzle were then obliged to watch helplessly whilst Nightshade and his men galloped laughing into the distance with their booty.

The sound of the retreating coach had only just faded away when a nearby groan alerted them to the presence of the driver. He had been knocked out by one of Nightshade’s men and was only just coming round. During careful questioning, he revealed the fact that going on to the next village would be almost twice the walk as to return to the previous one.

Showing remarkable solicitude for the driver, Isobel insisted that he could not possibly carry anything; and since she was obliged to keep an eye upon him, neither could she. That left Mr Twizzle with the task of carrying his own cloak bag and both the bandboxes, which he flatly refused to do.

‘Haven’t enough arms,’ he said frankly. ‘Stands to reason.’

‘Then you’ll just have to leave yours behind,’ Isobel told him. ‘It’s all your fault after all.’

‘I wasn’t the one who suggested eloping,’ he pointed out.

‘No, but if you had not become acquainted with that low,
criminal
person, we would not be stranded now at the side of the road.’

‘You can be quite sure that if I had not been in debt to Nightshade, then there is nothing in this wide world that would have persuaded me to elope with you.’

‘Well at least we are in agreement about something,’ said Isobel firmly. ‘You can carry one of my bandboxes as well as your cloak bag.’

‘I’ll carry the other, miss,’ said the driver, looking a little better,
although still rather pale. ‘It’ll give me something else to think about other than the master’s horses.’

At this point, it was Benjamin Twizzle’s turn to go pale.

Lord Riseholm and his party set off from Thurlby Hall at about four o’clock, Caroline and Lavinia facing the front, whilst Lord Riseholm and Mr Ames sat opposite them, their backs to the horses. They paused briefly at the Horseshoe to see what could be discovered about the fleeing couple. Mr Ames, being acquainted with both Miss Macclesfield and Mr Twizzle, took this task upon himself.