Bath Scandal (17 page)

Gillie came running forward when she recognized them. Her face was coated in dust, her bonnet was askew, and her pelisse was destroyed. She went running into her brother’s arms. “Rawl, thank God you have come. I knew I could depend on you.”

Bea watched in satisfaction as he cradled her in his arms, with all the proper love and concern of a brother. Then he put her at arm’s length and examined her. “Are you all right? What has happened? We were afraid you might be seriously hurt.” Not a word about fearing she had run off or been carried off by the duke.

“I’m fine, but I fear I may have broken Tannie’s arm. It hurts like the devil, and he is as white as a bone, so he cannot be shamming it. We got to arguing, you see. He said I was driving too fast for such a cow-handed driver and pulled the reins right out of my hands. Naturally the team got excited and bolted when he made such a to-do. We both dropped the reins, so that we ended up in the ditch. I fear we have broken the shaft of his carriage.”

“Why did you not send for help? There is plenty of traffic on this road.”

“I had to look after Tannie first. He was quite unconscious, you must know, so I could not leave him. I stopped a rig half an hour ago. The man said he would send a wheeler up from Poole, but he hasn’t come yet, so I have been looking for a branch of a proper size to use as a splint for the shaft. I meant to secure it with strips from my petticoat. It need only last till we can get to a stable or wheeler. I think this one might do it,” she said, hefting a branch.

“Where is Tannie?” Bea asked.

“There is a little stream over there,” she said, pointing to a stand of willows in the near distance. “The horses needed water. I unharnessed them and took them up there for a drink, and to be out of harm’s way in case a carriage came around the bend too fast. I wanted to bathe Tannie’s face with water, too. He managed to walk that far, with my help. I got the blanket from the carriage and wrapped him up well in it. We are quite ravenous. I’m sorry, Aunt Bea, but we are really feeling a good deal more than peckish, even if you didn’t ask. I gave Tannie the three macaroons I had in my reticule from last night, for he was looking so pale and faint.” She looked quite noble at this sacrifice.

“We’d best have a look at Tannie,” Southam said, and Gillie led them forth.

She did not forget to holler at John Groom to pull farther off the road. The drivers here drove like lunatics. They found the duke rolled up in a horse blanket by the side of the stream. He was as pale and faint as Gillie had warned. He tried to rise, and Gillie ordered him back down.

“My fault entirely, Lord Southam,” he said in a weak voice. “I am very sorry. Daresay you was worried sick about Gillie. And when you especially asked us to return early, too,” he added to Bea.

“You are forgiven, as it was obviously unavoidable,” Bea replied. “Can you make it to Southam’s carriage, Duke? We must get that arm looked at.”

“If Southam will lend me an arm to lean on, I’ll make it, but I cannot leave my team here.”

“I’ll stay with the team,” Gillie said.

“Can’t stay alone,” the duke replied sternly. “We could hitch the team to Southam’s rig and lead them back to town.”

“What about the carriage?” Gillie asked.

“Surely the duke is more important than the carriage, or the team for that matter,” Bea said. The two youngsters looked at her as if she were mad.

Southam helped the duke up and assisted him to the intact carriage. It was arranged that Southam would drive his own carriage, and his groom would stay behind with the duke’s team and rig till help could be sent from Bournemouth, in case the wheeler from Poole failed to come.

During the return trip Gillie was a perfect ministering angel, asking Tannie every two minutes whether he was comfortable and assuring him that his arm would soon be healed, and he’d be driving as well as ever. Bea had a sneaking suspicion that under cover of the horse blanket they were holding hands. Tannie’s vulnerability seemed to have aroused something akin to love in Gillie. Rather ironic, as Southam had decided against the match at this time. She doubted that his opposition would stand long against Gillie’s persuasions.

They took Tannie to his own hotel, laid him on his bed, and called the doctor. When he came, the others went downstairs. Gillie would not leave the premises until she heard the doctor’s opinion.

“If he is to lose that arm,” she said, eyes wide with horror, “I must be here to comfort him, Rawl. He would never be able to drive again. Not so well as he drives now, though I am sure he would manage it somehow with only one arm. And it is all my fault! He told me to give him the reins, and I refused.” Her lower lip wobbled, and her eyes filled with moisture.

“Let us have lunch while we wait for the doctor’s verdict,” Southam said.

“Oh, yes. I am weak with hunger,” Gillie agreed. Her concern for Tannie had not deprived her of a hearty appetite.

“We ought to send word to Miss Pittfield,” Bea said, and took care of that detail while Southam ordered lunch.

There were a few other matters that needed attention as well. Tannie was obviously not in any condition to take Horatio’s money to him. That unfortunate gent was sitting alone in some room, afraid to stick his nose out the door. Bea decided she would have to learn the location and take the money to him herself. Another matter of considerable importance was the remove to Bath.

She mentioned that over lunch. “When shall we leave for Bath?” she asked Southam.

“It is pointless to set out so late in the day,” he said.

“You will not want to leave Deborah there alone, though.”

He clenched his lips. “I’ll send a message telling her what happened. She came uninvited. It is not our fault if an unforeseen accident detains us. What can we do? We cannot leave that poor boy alone, at least till we discover how serious this accident is. It is Gillie’s fault. We must stay.”

Gillie burst into sniffles but gave him a thankful gaze and squeezed his hand.

When the doctor came down, Southam invited him to take coffee with them, while he outlined the duke’s condition.

“It is a very serious sprain, but thank God, no bones are broken. He will recover eventually.”

“How long?” Gillie asked eagerly.

“A month should see him back in fighting trim. I don’t want that arm jostled with rough driving for a couple of weeks, but he can be up and about in a day or two. I have bandaged up his arm and shoulder, and given him a draft of laudanum to deaden the pain. He will soon be sleeping like a baby. If you wish to have a word with him, best do it now, while he is still awake.”

It was arranged that the doctor would return that evening, and meanwhile there was nothing more to be done. The duke’s valet would be with him to see to his needs. The doctor had already had a word with him.

The party went upstairs to say good-bye while Tannie was still awake. He was already groggy. Bea did not think he would have called Gillie an angel and kissed her hand in front of them all if he had been perfectly alert. She managed to get Horatio’s address from him, a disreputable establishment called the Old Fox, on Littledown Road. She assured him she would see that Horatio got the money.

“We’ll come back this evening,” Gillie said before leaving. “Is there anything you want, Tannie? Sugarplums or oranges or cigars?”

“Just make sure my team are unharmed,” he said, his eyelids beginning to slide closed.

“Naturally! As if I would not check up on that!”

Chapter Fourteen

As they drove back to the Royal Bath, Southam expressed his concern at leaving Tannie in the hands of his valet, with no friend or family to assist him.

Gillie encouraged this line of thought. “There is no counting on Duncan McIvor and that set. They won’t want to miss the races,” she said, but in no condemning way.

It occurred to Beatrice that Horatio could stay with his nephew, leaving them free to return to Bath without feeling they were abandoning an invalid. Not knowing Horatio’s plans, she did not mention it until she had a chance to talk to him. Her eagerness to take him the money was rising. Horatio would think they had all forgotten him. The blacklegs might have discovered his hiding place by now and beaten him to a pulp. By the time they reached the hotel, she was on nettles to get on with her errand. She did not relish going alone, but Southam was already distracted enough. She would be perfectly safe in his carriage.

“I must jot a line to Deborah to explain our delay,” he said as he stood at the carriage door to hand the ladies down.

Beatrice did not dismount. “Could I borrow your carriage for half an hour, Southam?” she asked. “There is something I must attend to before we leave.”

“Certainly,” he replied, hardly noticing what she said.

With so many matters preying on their minds, neither of them observed the stocky, swarthy man in the leather waistcoat and fustian jacket loitering around the front of the hotel. Garrity had more than one defaulting bettor to look after. He had temporarily lost track of his leads to Evendon, but he knew where to find one of them. When he saw Beatrice leave in the carriage, he jumped into a hansom cab and followed her.

Once Southam had written his note, he began to wonder why Beatrice had wanted the carriage. She didn’t know anyone in Bournemouth, so it could not be a social visit. Surely she had not chosen this inopportune moment to go shopping, and alone. Where could she be? He had marked the direction the carriage was heading—not south to the Cliff Promenade, but north, away from the center of town. With rising concern, he went out to the street and began to walk rapidly off in the same direction, his eyes peeling the streets for a sign of his carriage. When he had walked two blocks, he realized he would never catch her up and hailed a cab. He explained that he was looking for a black crested carriage and told the driver to whip the team up, to cover the maximum length of road in the shortest time.

Meanwhile Beatrice was driven through the better part of the city into a less populated area, clutching her reticule with the thousand pounds in it to her chest. Garrity’s cab followed close behind, unobserved.

She dismounted at a second-rate hotel and asked John Groom to wait for her. Garrity got out and sauntered nonchalantly along, keeping an eye on her groom. It did not look suspicious for the tout to enter the dingy Old Fox Inn. Indeed, he looked more at home there than Mrs. Searle and her fine rig. Southam’s groom didn’t give him a second glance. Garrity picked up speed once he was inside. Mrs. Searle had already spoken to the clerk and was heading down a corridor to the right. The blackleg hurried after her.

She tapped quietly at the door; immediately Horatio opened it and Beatrice entered. The blackleg recognized him and slid forward, putting his ear to the door. He had to establish how many people were in the room before he went charging in.

“Did you think we had abandoned you, Horatio?” Beatrice said.

“Not for a minute, though I own I was becoming impatient. Did Tannie get the money?”

“No, I got it. I have it right here.”

“That’s my darling girl. Come here and I’ll kiss you for that. You’ve saved my old neck.” He gave her a loud smack on the cheek.

“I have a favor to ask of you in return, Horatio,” she said.

“Ask away. You have just done me a large favor. I knew I might depend on you, lass.”

“Tannie is hurt,” she said, and explained the situation. Horatio agreed to go to him that night and see him safely back to Bath when he was well enough to travel.

Garrity, lurking at the door, heard only two voices, one of them a lady’s. He quietly opened the door and entered. “So there you are, Evendon,” he said. “And with enough money in your hands to choke a horse.”

“I hope it chokes a swine instead,” Horatio said, and flung it at him.

The man scrambled about the floor, picking up the bills and counting them carefully. When he had ascertained that it was all there, he said, “I can give you a hot tip on the four o’clock race. Fair Lady is paying seven-to-one. A newcomer, but I hear from her owner that she is a sweet goer.”

“Be off, man,” Horatio said, and cuffed his ear.

“No hard feelings, mate. Business is business.”

The blackleg scuttled out, stuffing his ill-got gains into his jacket. As his cab had left, he had to walk back to town. Southam noticed the hurrying form as his cab passed. He had seen that dark phiz before. He stopped the cab, jumped out and grabbed the man by the throat.

“Where is she?” he demanded. “If you have touched a hair of her head, I’ll kill you.”

“Here, watch who you’re mauling, mate. You mean the saucy piece in the fancy rig?” He pointed his thumb down the street. Southam saw his carriage standing outside a disreputable-looking inn.

“Yes—No! The lady who was in that carriage.”

“She’s with the old bleater in his room. Never fear he’d harm her. His darling girl, he called her. Kissing and sweet talk is the worst she’s suffering. Take a right turn at the desk, and down two doors. That’s where you will find her.”

Southam released his hold on the blackleg and pelted forward. His groom recognized him and called out. Southam didn’t stop but called as he ran, “Is Mrs. Searle in there?”

“Aye. This is where she asked me to bring her. I didn’t think much of the—” He stopped, for Lord Southam was already beyond hearing. Looked as if the hounds of hell were after him. Something queer afoot, from the looks of him.

Southam darted down the hall and flung open the second door on the left. He saw Beatrice sitting at her ease with the racetrack tout ancient enough to be her father, though not an unattractive man in a raffish way. They were having a glass of wine and chatting as if they were bosom bows.

“So this is where you are!” he charged.

Beatrice, not realizing she was being rescued, replied nonchalantly. “Yes, this is where I am. As you are here Southam, let me introduce—”

“I have no wish to meet your paramour,” he said stiffly. “What you do when you are in Bath is your business. Here, you are under my protection.”

“Paramour!” she gasped, choking on her wine.