Hide in Time (27 page)

“We must await further news of
Miss Charlotte Carpenter.” Father Fox looked at each of them,
as if inspecting their capacity to continue listening. “And now
we come to this utterly deplorable letter addressed to you, Jack.
That is if you are ‘the son of a stump-brained bumpkin, whose
mother rots in hell.’”

Adam seethed, but his father conveyed a
look that seemed to say ‘trust me’. Alexandra marvelled
at Adam’s restraint; it appeared to be costing him dear. She
suspected he had been forewarned; nothing less could assist his
self-control.

Father Fox held the letter up and said,
“Following the preliminary incorrect salutations, it demands
you either marry the sister of the ridiculous Alfred the Great, as he
styles himself, or settle all your debts to him which amount, he
says, to over two thousand guineas.”

“Rot, pure rot!” roared
Jack.

Father Fox continued, “You must
also make a further payment to him for the maintenance of his sister.
He demands you meet him tonight at the ‘King’s Arms’,
with payment, or a ring with which to wed her. If you refuse to make
an honest woman of her, now that she is carrying your child, you will
be held responsible for the provision of three thousand pounds to
enable her to marry another.”

Jack leapt up, “Lying toad! On my
honour I never touched his foul-mouthed kin. That scheming charlatan!
I’ll kill him.” Father Fox murmured that ‘his
honour’ might not be something he should call to people’s
attention. Jack shot past him shouting, “A sharp prod with the
sword will remind him not to taunt his betters. And if he forgets,
his innards will be much appreciated by our pigs.”

The silence that followed was heavy and
dark, like lead.

Father Fox slumped in his chair. “The
letter arrived last week; I refrained from making its contents known
earlier otherwise Jack would attempt to raise this absurd amount in
his usual fashion. I have sought assistance but we are close to
bankruptcy. I have nothing more to offer. This burden now falls on
you, my wild honey Adam. I relinquish my interest. There are many
dependent upon this estate for their living. The family’s
fortunes and theirs are in your hands.” He lowered his head as
he said, “My own son. I fear he now rides to his death for it
is surely a trap.”

To three mystified faces Alexandra
spoke what seemed to her appropriate, “Indeed, it appears he’s
about to meet his Waterloo.”

Hide in Time ~ Anna Faversham

“Saddle Holly fast, Billy, and
bring her to the front gates. And wrap up or sooty her white socks.”

“Not planning on being seen,
then? Not side-saddle either?”

Alexandra, already racing back to the
house, turned and shook her head. There ought to be a way of shouting
and whispering at the same time, she thought. Martha could find a
word for it – shispering, perhaps? No time for such
frivolities, she chided herself.

In less than ten minutes she appeared
at the gates dressed in black. Long black leather boots, her old,
cropped trousers, a riding jacket, and her hair gathered under a hat
rammed down as far as her ears allowed. Tucked in her pocket was a
black scarf and under her arm she had her riding whip – the
very picture of a highwayman.

Whisking Billy out of sight, she
questioned him. “Has Jack gone?”

“A while ago, now Miss. You’re
not trying to follow that lunatic are you?”

“I am. Where’s the King’s
Arms?”

“King’s Arms?” Billy
followed this with a range of vocabulary last spoken in an Army
barracks. Spluttering a little more he added, “Beg pardon,
Miss, but you’ve got to be joking. No way can you go in there.”

“I must, Billy. Jack’s
walking into a trap.”

“Well now, there’s a
surprise. I shouldn’t wonder if the whole town hasn’t
ganged up on him by now.” He cupped his hands to help Alexandra
mount.

Alexandra looked down. “Where is
it, Billy?”

“Next tavern along from mine.
Rough old place though and with it being nearly dark now, it’s
not wise…”

She had ridden off, and he was left
with shrewd words unheard, and voiced thoughts inspiring no one but
himself. "You're terrific, Alexandra, terrific! For a moment I
was back with the Sappers." He kicked the ground. "And you
know what? I'm damned sure now that I was a Corporal, maybe even a
Sergeant! At any rate, a leader of men and a guardian of justice.
Terrific! That's what you are."

~

Rough was something of an
understatement, Alexandra thought as she hitched Holly to a tree well
away from the King’s Arms. She weighed her options for a moment
before making a stealthy approach to the dark street and sidling
along to a latticed window at the back. She prised it ajar. Would
Adam come? Despite rescuing his brother on numerous previous
occasions there was no sign of him now. Had the family finally given
up on their black sheep and left him to face his accusers? What was
it that drove her to go after him? Pity? No, not that. Perhaps it was
to witness his downfall or to atone for her misjudgment of Adam? One
lone female? Yet she felt no fear.

Straining to sort words from background
noises of merriment, she distinguished a few alarming phrases. ‘Force
him to sign his paternity’, and something about ‘best
done in the forest'.

She crouched down and spied through the
window. A horse, hitched further up the dark alleyway, whinnied and
she nearly bumped her head. Not fearful, but perhaps a little
nervous. She steadied herself. Peering again, she glimpsed through
the dense, smoky atmosphere ten or maybe twelve rough men lolling
around a central table in a small room with an open doorway.
Prostrate across the entrance was, presumably, the guard, though he
was clearly the drunken sot of the bunch and snoring loudly. Worked
well, she supposed. Quite clever really.

As they grabbed some pistols in
response to a shout from outside, Alexandra drew back, and flattened
herself against the wall away from the light of the foul-smelling
tallow candles. Jack had arrived. It seemed he wasn’t so stupid
as to enter the dim tavern and Alexandra could hear him issuing a
challenge to ‘Alfred the Tittle’ to come out and fight.
Astride his horse, he rode by the end of the alleyway and Alexandra
noticed the glint of a sword. No doubt he thought the scrawny Alfred
Smith was no match for a swordsman on horseback. Rather
underestimated his enemy, Alexandra noted. Or had Jack brought some
back-up? She edged closer and could see Jack was oblivious of the
apparent casual observers and that they were part of Alfred’s
gang.

"What'd he call me?" Alfred
Smith got no answer from his cohorts. Shuffling his feet, neither
going forwards nor backwards, he called across to Jack. “No
place for a discussion between two gentlemen.”

Jack scoffed and ignored his
conciliatory tone. “I wouldn’t sully my eyes on your
sister and certainly not any other part of my anatomy."

Although initially appearing unsettled,
Alfred Smith had rehearsed his scheme well and appeared calm as he
said, “We should discuss this away from these good folk out for
a quiet drink.” He cast his hand around to encompass the now
jeering crowd before continuing, “Come now, just the two of us,
in my carriage over there.”

“Call that a carriage? Donkey
cart would be a generous description.” Jack, with one hand on
the reins steering his horse and the other waving his sword, appeared
to grasp he looked like the aggressor. Right now he had no money to
bribe these witnesses to say otherwise. He sheathed the sword,
dismounted, and beckoned Alfred to follow him. Alfred did, willingly.
They turned a corner and Alexandra could see them no longer. She did,
however, see two of the gang start driving the dilapidated carriage
after them with the rest following furtively on foot.

An unruly mob had gathered outside the
tap room, hoping for some entertainment, and it wasn’t until
they returned disappointed to their ale-sodden tables inside that she
risked dashing to Holly.

The carriage trundled along slowly
through the dark street leading out of town, allowing the dozen men
recruited by the aggrieved Alfred to follow on foot or, in the case
of three of them, on donkeys. Jack’s horse was tied to the back
of the carriage so Alexandra assumed that Jack had somehow been
bundled inside for she couldn’t imagine him willingly
travelling within. The carriage neared Billy’s more respectable
tavern, with its benches ranged along the outside walls for the
summer evenings; it increased in speed sufficiently to separate from
those straggling behind. Alexandra supposed this was part of a
careful plan not to draw attention to the ominous looking band of
ruffians. She had to make a wider arc, uphill, to get around those
being left behind in order to follow the carriage – now well
out of sight.

A growing rumbling stopped her course.
She turned cautiously and concealed herself behind a clump of trees.
Astonished, she leaned forwards on Holly to confirm her view. Billy
had orchestrated the encircling of the stragglers by his band of
wheel-boarding invalid ex-soldiers. As Alfred’s men tried in
vain to leave the corral, the wheel-boarders paddled around them,
prodding them with batons and moving them into a smaller ring. There
was no doubt that once the gang overcame the element of surprise,
they might have pushed violently past, but it would have availed them
nothing. An outer ring, comprising the taverns regular patrons, had
formed and herded the gang into an alleyway where they were tied up
and laced together in a circle, each one facing outwards. Their
pockets were emptied.

“Reckon we deserve a tankard or
two for keeping you out of the courts, for that is surely where you’d
have ended up without our kind and expert intervention,” said
Billy with a satisfied grin. He clinked the coins he’d
collected and tapped the non-existent stripes on his arm. “Think
you can outwit a Sergeant and the troops of the King’s Army?
Huh!”

Alexandra looked on amazed and amused.
Well, good for Sergeant Sidebottome. As the victors celebrated,
tankards raised, Alexandra dug her heel into Holly’s flanks and
hurried down onto the deserted road. She had some catching up to do.

A patchy mist both hindered and helped
her track the carriage unnoticed. She ventured a canter and, within a
few minutes, rickety wheels could be heard. She steered Holly on to a
path running almost parallel but shielded by an increasing number of
trees and undergrowth. They were leading him into a wood, just as
they had suggested in the King’s Arms. She’d calculated
that at most there were only six men; three were on donkeys and were
now leading the carriage off the road and into the woods. Maybe
there’d be three inside the carriage with Jack. How would she
deal with six men? Should she just monitor what was happening? Being
able to report back to Adam or a magistrate would be more useful than
ending up in a ditch. A picture flashed through her mind. A picture
of Adam enduring listening to his father attempting to rein in Jack
and the truths that had come out. Somehow she must make amends for
believing the worst of Adam. How could she have done that?

When she heard the carriage halt some
fifty or more yards ahead of her, Alexandra dismounted and hitched
Holly to a tree. Holly nuzzled her and was reassured by a gentle
rubbing of her neck. “Hush now,” Alexandra whispered.
“Wait for me – I may need you soon.” She tucked her
riding whip into the saddle straps. She inched forward, careful of
anything that might crackle. The moon did not penetrate the tree
canopy and the swirling mist seemed thicker as the night went on. As
she drew closer, the muffled voices became more distinct and three
wraith-like figures gathered around the door of the carriage as three
more jumped out. Alfred the Great could be recognized by his
controlling manner.

“Mind out! Leave him to me.”
Alfred reached in and pulled Jack’s body from the floor by his
hands and dragged him over his shoulder. Staggering to the nearest
tree he dumped Jack and began slapping him round the face. “That’s
it, damn you! You sit there, till you come round. And this will help
you.” Alfred took great pleasure in kicking Jack’s side.
Jack groaned.

“Wants annuver one, don’
’e.”

Alfred Smith obliged his mate.

“Now you’ve got some
explaining to do, Mr High-and-Mighty.”

Jack groaned again and slowly came to
his senses. He shifted himself a little.

Alfred slapped his face hard.

“Got any teef ’e don wan’
an I’ll ’ave ’em,” said another of the gang
roaring with laughter and indicating his own depleted set.

“Shut it!” commanded
Alfred.

Alexandra crept closer. She should have
brought the whip.

“D’yer ’ear anyfing?”
the nigh-on toothless gang member said, his eyes wide with sudden
fear.

All six of them stared around, turning
in circles.

“Came from over there,”
said one of them with a hint of scorn and pointing deeper into the
wood.

“There’s always noises in
woods, ’specially at night,” said Alfred bending down and
pulling Jack up to his feet. “Now let’s deal with this
two-faced cavalier.” Jack had said not a word, not that
Alexandra could hear anyway, but Alfred smacked his face again.
“Every time I’ve beaten you, fair and square like, what’s
happened? Someone’s robbed me! Robbed me before I’ve even
had time to spend it. And it ain’t going to happen again.”

“Robbed you?” Jack took
notice and looked directly at Alfred. “Who robbed you? Not me!”

“Nah, nah, don’t spit your
lies at me. You think I don’t know, but I do. Look at your
boots!” he ordered. “Black, just like the robber on the
road from Merrygate and just the same as all the other times.”

Alexandra looked down at her own boots.
She’d had some made like Adam’s. Black leather with a
brown band around the top. Were there any boots so unusual as to be
identifiably Jack’s? She looked at the boots of the gang
members – no comparisons could be made with those!