At the Highwayman's Pleasure (21 page)

‘D-deal with him?’ Charity could control her expression to appear mildly interested, but she could not stop her heart thudding so heavily the blood drummed in her ears.

‘Weston will question him and then, no doubt, he will be transferred to York for trial.’

‘Well, that is good news, indeed,’ declared Lady Beverley. ‘Though I would never have guessed Mr Durden would be the highwayman. All reports I heard said the robber was an Irishman. However, the news may well encourage more people to travel from Beringham for your benefit performance, Charity.’

The conversation moved back to the theatre and Charity took her part, although she could never afterwards remember what was said. She was desperate to get away and when at last it was time to leave she made no objection when Lady Beverley offered the use of her carriage. She did not think her legs would support her for much longer.

‘I am very sorry that note arrived from your father,’ said Hywel, as they rattled through the empty streets. ‘I could see that the mere mention of his name upset you.’

‘It was most unwelcome,’ she responded, with perfect sincerity. ‘I only hope our hostess did not notice.’

‘Oh, I think not. Lady Beverley is kindness itself, but not the most acute of observers.’

Charity forced a little laugh and engaged him in idle chitchat until the carriage pulled up at her door. With a smile and a cheerful word of farewell she went inside, but as soon as the door was closed she sank down onto the nearest chair, shaking. She wanted to burst into tears but she fought against it. Crying would not help Ross now. She must act.

* * *

Ross woke to the sound of a distant cock crow, but did not move immediately. He tried to work out why he was not in his own bed. An attack, riders coming at him in the dusk, blows. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring up at bare stone walls and a square of light where the sun struggled through the grimy glass of the single barred window, high up in one of the walls. His hands were manacled and he sat up carefully, flinching at the pain of his bruised and aching limbs. Raising his arms, he put a hand to his temple and touched his hair. It was sticky with blood.

He heard footsteps and the rasp of bolts being drawn back, but his head was throbbing and the sudden squeal of metal hinges made him wince. He opened his eyes, expecting to see his gaoler. Instead he saw Charity standing in the doorway.

‘Oh, dear heaven, what have you done to him?’ she demanded in outraged accents.

The man standing behind her shifted uncomfortably.

‘He was brought in like that, Mrs Weston.’

‘And you have done nothing to ease his suffering?’

‘It ain’t my job to—’

‘It is your Christian duty,’ she told him roundly. ‘And this—this
hovel
is not even provided with a jug of water. You will fetch one immediately, if you please. And a cloth, that I may clean up his wounds.’

The constable goggled at her. ‘But I can’t—’

‘You
can
and you will, Constable. If you have nothing to hand, then Mrs Rigg will assuredly provide you with what you need. And do not worry about your prisoner escaping. You may lock me in here with him while you are gone.’

It was a masterly and assured performance, and at any other time Ross would have appreciated it greatly, but for now he was merely thankful when the constable withdrew, shutting the door behind him and returning the lock-up to the gloomy half-light that did not make his eyes hurt.

‘You should not have come here,’ he managed.

‘How could I not, once I knew?’ She put down her basket on the stone bench and drew out a flask. ‘I have brought you a little wine and bread. Will Stamp has been locked up several times after a—what do you gentlemen call it?—after a spree and he always complains about the lack of food and drink.’

‘I cannot say I had noticed until now,’ said Ross, but took the flask and drank deeply before tearing off a piece of the bread she held out to him.

‘How did you know of this?’ he asked her.

‘I heard last night that you had been arrested.’

‘Arrested?’ He laughed, wincing as the pain lanced through the bruises on his face. ‘I was waylaid on my way back to Wheelston. I know I had crossed the county border, but once they had overpowered me they dragged me here—I take it I am in the Beringham lock-up?’

‘Yes.’ She sat down beside him. ‘My friend Jenny is the constable’s sister-in-law.’

‘And does the constable know whose daughter you are?’

‘There are rumours, of course, but no, he thinks not. You see, he interviewed me when the Scarborough mail was held up and asked me then if I was the magistrate’s daughter. I told him it was a stage name.’ She clasped her hands in her lap. ‘Jenny knows, of course, because we grew up together, but she has told no one. However, she did persuade her brother-in-law to let me in.’

‘I would she had not done so,’ he retorted bitterly, then reached across to grip her hand. ‘Not for my sake, love, but for your own. It can only do you harm to ally yourself with me—’ He broke off as the constable returned with a small jug of water and a rough cloth folded over his arm.

Charity immediately picked up her basket. ‘Put it here. Since there is no furniture, I take it this stone bench must be bed, chair and table for your prisoner.’

‘Well, madam, it ain’t supposed to be cosy.’

Only Ross saw Charity’s eyes flash with anger at the constable’s surly response. She said cheerfully, ‘No, indeed, Mr Rigg, I quite understand that. But do you think you could allow me a little more time with Mr Durden?’

‘I don’t think I should. Justice Weston wouldn’t like it.’

‘I doubt if he would like you letting me in here at all,’ replied Charity in the voice of sweet reason. ‘However, he need not find out. You know we were very careful to make sure no one saw me come in here. And there is no need for you to neglect your other duties. You have seen that there is nothing more dangerous in my basket than a little food and drink, so you may safely leave me here.’

The constable blinked, clearly dazzled by her smile.

‘I told you, Mrs Weston, he’s due up before the Justice at noon—’

‘Then I shall help him make himself more presentable. What harm can there be in that?’

Ross held his breath—surely this staid officer of the law would not be swayed by her charms?—but to his amazement the constable retired, saying he would give her an hour, no more. When they were alone he uttered a short bark of laughter.

‘By heaven, how did you manage that?’

‘Flattery, a few kind words and a little money,’ she said, dipping the corner of the cloth into the jug. ‘Not that I attempted to bribe him, but I did leave a small purse with his sister-in-law.’

She put her fingers beneath his chin and gently turned his head to the light so that she could bathe away the dried blood on his face.

‘Are there any other injuries?’ she asked, her voice trembling a little. ‘Did they hurt you very much?’

‘They were not gentle, but then, I did not give in without a fight.’ He touched her arm as she drew in a sharp, hissing breath, as much to prove to himself that she was real as to reassure her. ‘It is not so very bad. Apart from the cut on my head I am merely bruised, I think.’

‘I was afraid when Sir Mark told us you were caught. I thought perhaps Phineas—’

‘I have not yet seen him, although I have no doubt it was he who arranged my capture.’

‘Sir Mark said the message came from Phineas, so he was most certainly involved. There.’ She stepped away. ‘I have cleaned up your head as best I can, but I can do nothing about the dark stubble or the fearful mark on your cheek.’

‘Do I look very dreadful?’ he asked her.

The pain in her eyes told him the answer, but she replied with admirable calm. ‘Quite frightful. You would attract far too much attention if you left here in such a state. However, with your hat pulled low and once we have brushed the dirt from your coat I think you will look tidy enough for us to make the attempt.’

‘What?’

‘When the constable returns we must, er,
persuade
him to let you go.’ She reached into the pocket of her travelling cloak and pulled out a pistol. ‘That is why I brought this. Thankfully Constable Rigg was so embarrassed when I told him to check the basket that he did not ask to search my person.’

‘Is it loaded?’

‘No.’ She handed it to him. ‘It is one we use on stage and does not work, but I hope it will do the trick.’

‘And just what had you in mind?’

She took a deep breath. ‘When Rigg comes back we will take him prisoner. I will fetch my carriage, which is waiting at the inn in the square, and when we drive slowly by the lock-up you will run out and—’

‘Pure folly,’ exclaimed Ross, getting to his feet. He held up his manacled hands. ‘How far do you expect me to get like this?’

‘I have no idea, but I have money. I thought we could bribe a blacksmith to remove your chains, and then we might head towards Scotland...’

‘No!’ He threw down the pistol and grabbed her arms. ‘My darling girl, we would be caught within days, and if we were not, we would be outlaws, never able to rest—is that what you want?’

‘If it is the only way to be with you, then yes.’

His heart lurched as he saw the tears in her eyes. He dragged her to him and kissed her roughly, but the way she clung to him only convinced him that he must get her away from there. Steeling himself, he broke off his kiss.

‘I cannot be party to this madness. When Rigg comes back you must go and do not come near me again until this is all over.’ He added, with far more confidence than he felt, ‘We were fortunate I was attacked on my return from Scarborough and not on my way there. The letter you wrote out for me is now on its way to the Admiralty. I am convinced there is enough substance to our suspicions for them to act. The net will soon close upon Phineas Weston.’

‘But not soon enough, Ross. Phineas will see you hanged at the first opportunity, we both know that.’

‘I only know that you are in danger every moment you stay here with me.’ He cupped her face. ‘Oh, my love, do you think I could ever forgive myself if I thought I had brought about your downfall? I love you too much to allow that. Go back to the theatre, my dear, enjoy your success there and forget me.’

‘Never.’ She stared up at him, her eyes deep blue pools of tears. ‘I cannot leave you, Ross, I cannot forget. I love you, there is no life for me without you.’

‘There is, there must be,’ he said fiercely. ‘I—’

He broke off. There was the rumble of voices and heavy footsteps coming closer. He felt Charity tremble, heard her whisper one word. ‘Phineas!’

Swiftly he put her away from him and threw himself down on the bench, stuffing the pistol into his jacket pocket.

‘Follow my lead,’ he commanded tersely. ‘You must get out of here and live for me!’

Charity had no time to reply. The door was flung open and Phineas strode in, followed by two gentlemen whom she recognised as Hutton and Keldy. From their damaged faces she surmised they had been involved in Ross’s capture. The constable came in behind them all, looking forlorn and anxious.

‘So—’ Phineas’s cruel, sneering smile swept over her ‘—am I interrupting a touching scene?’ He indicated the men behind him. ‘I set my people to watch the lock-up, knowing you would turn up.’ He snarled at Charity, ‘How much did you slip Rigg here to let you in?’

‘Not a penny,’ she answered coolly. ‘I appealed to his better nature. Is that not so, Mr Rigg?’

The constable gave a nod, the look on his face a mixture of fright and relief.

‘Mrs Weston is living up to her name,’ drawled Ross, slowly sitting up. He indicated the basket. ‘She is bringing a little charity to a condemned man.’

‘Comforting you, is she, Durden? The actress giving succour to her lover.’

‘Sir Mark Beverley asked her to come.’ Ross uttered the lie with all the assured confidence of a leading man. ‘You had best be careful, Weston. The lady has powerful friends in Allingford.’

He spoke quietly, but there was just enough conviction in his voice to make Hutton and Keldy take a step back. Phineas frowned, his eyes narrowing.

‘Not powerful enough to save you, Durden,’ he said silkily. ‘A search has been made of your house—’

‘I hope you haven’t alarmed my housekeeper.’

‘Of course not. My people treated her with the utmost respect.’

A faint smile lifted one side of Ross’s mouth. ‘I don’t doubt it, especially when she told you she was once cook to Sir Mark and Lady Beverley, and continues on good terms with them.’

‘My people were well aware of their duty, being within Sir Mark’s jurisdiction,’ snapped Phineas. ‘But nevertheless we found evidence that you are the highwayman—the black mask in your bedchamber, for example.’

Charity shot a glance at Ross. He was leaning back against the wall, apparently unperturbed by this revelation.

‘Is that all you have on me, Phineas? The relic of some masked ball?’

‘And the blacking in your stable. Your man has disappeared, but I don’t doubt when we find him he will tell us he used it on that black nag of yours. You will hang for this, Durden. We will find witnesses to testify against you.’

‘What, those two toadies behind you?’ Ross curled his lip. ‘Why not, they have already perjured themselves for you.’

Charity saw her father’s face darken alarmingly, but Ross was not looking at Phineas. Instead he turned his head to address her.

‘I think it is time for you to leave, madam, Sir Mark will be waiting for your report upon what you have found here. Pray thank Lady Beverley for her kindness in providing me with breakfast. You will not object if the lady leaves us, will you, Magistrate Weston?’

Charity met Ross’s eyes, but his were hard, indifferent. He was dismissing her, trying to keep her safe from danger.

I love you too much to allow that.

In the dark nightmare of this whole situation his words were like a beacon, a warm, bright light she could not ignore.

Phineas was glaring, his jaw working as he tried to curb his temper.

‘If Beverley is expecting you, then you had best go,’ he barked.