Miss in a Man's World (25 page)

‘I shall join you, if I may?' His lordship then called across to the landlord and ordered three fresh tankards of home-brewed ale and three glasses of rum. ‘We may
as well sleep well tonight, gentlemen, and just hope that Lady Luck favours us on the morrow.' He looked from one to the other. ‘It isn't too late for either of you to back out. I shall think none the less of you if you do. As I've already mentioned there's no guarantee the militia, although alerted to be stationed in the wood, will reach us in time if we are held up. The road through Cheetham Wood runs for a good two miles. The attack might take place anywhere.'

Both the head groom, Perkins, and Digby voiced their determination to remain with the Viscount. ‘Besides,' Digby added, ‘the young mistress would expect it of me. Given 'alf the chance she'd be 'ere with you 'erself.'

A ripple of alarm stole across his lordship's features. ‘You're sure she knows nothing of this?'

‘She's learned nothing from me, m'lord,' Digby confirmed. ‘I left bright and early this morning, without seeing 'er. Thought it 'twere for the best. She's a way of wheedling things out of you, so she 'as. Though I did leave 'er a note with the scullery maid, just to say I were on some errand for you for a day or two. Just 'ope the scatty wench ain't forgotten to give it to the young mistress, that's all.'

Reaching for the glass of rum the landlord had just placed before him, Digby downed the contents in one swallow, much as his friend Jem Fisher had done when visiting his lordship's house not so very many days previously. ‘Miss Georgie's a downy one, and no mistake. Don't want 'er going round asking too many questions. She just might find out what we're about.'

Although his lordship understood the loyal retainer's fears, he took a more realistic view. ‘Well, even if she should find out, I doubt there's much she can do at, this,
the eleventh hour, except mentally rehearse some blistering tirade with which to greet me upon my return.'

Digby's appreciative chuckle faded as he chanced to glance through to the coffee-room in time to catch a glimpse of a slight figure, swathed in a voluminous cloak and wearing black buckled shoes and a tricorn hat, pass the open doorway.

He shook his head and considered the empty vessel still clasped in his large hand. ‘Not that I don't think that there rum must 'ave gone straight to me 'ead!' he declared. ‘Best 'ave n'more!'

 

As luck would have it the landlady of the White Hart was a kindly soul, with a distinctly motherly nature. She had taken pity on the weary youth who had arrived late in the evening at her inn. Allocating a clean, airy bedchamber, overlooking the courtyard at the front of the inn, she had even gone so far as to send a substantial supper up on a tray, and had been only too willing to provide a hearty breakfast in the same fashion the following morning, the youth being somewhat shy and not wishing to partake of meals in the coffee-room. Which, as it just so happened, could not have suited Georgiana better.

Luck had favoured her thus far. The journey from London, though tiring for both rider and sturdy mount, had passed quite uneventfully. She'd even been fortunate enough to catch not so much as a glimpse of his lordship or the servants when she had arrived at the inn, and she was determined to do all she could to ensure her luck held. She'd already discovered from one of the inn maids that the Viscount had bespoken the only private parlour, and had ordered his breakfast for eight
o'clock sharp. Therefore he would be eating now. So there wasn't a moment to lose!

After gathering together the few necessities she'd managed to bring with her and thrusting them into a small leather bag, Georgiana made her way down to the coffee-room, while all the time keeping a sharp eye out for a certain tall, striking aristocrat.

The landlord was only too willing to look after the leather bag while the young gentleman was about on an errand in the locale, most especially as he was offered sufficient inducement to do so. The young ostler, who had been only too happy to look after the fine bay the evening before, was more than content to continue caring for the horse until the young gentleman returned, when he too was tossed a shiny gold coin. No sooner had he happily pocketed the unexpected largesse than he was called to help make ready his lordship's carriage.

Georgiana then wasted no time in secreting herself in the darkest corner of the large barn, from where she could view proceedings undetected. Without doubt this was the most hazardous time, when her presence might be discovered by either Digby or Perkins, both of whom were very likely busily preparing for the departure.

Through the open doorway, she watched as his lordship's prime horses were harnessed to the carriage. Then she saw Perkins scramble up on to the box. Not long afterwards Digby joined him on the seat, and the carriage then was tooled slowly to the front of the inn. Leaving her hiding place, Georgiana moved stealthily across the yard to the inn's front wall in time to see his lordship leave and walk the few steps to his carriage. Then he was safely inside, and Digby, having jumped down, was letting up the steps and closing the carriage door. It was now or never!

Darting forward, Georgiana hurriedly perched herself on the dummy board at the rear of the coach. Thankfully the conveyance's rocking must have been put down wholly to Digby returning to his seat, for the carriage moved out of the yard without further ado and they were soon on their way.

Of course, Georgiana wasn't so foolish as to suppose her presence would go undetected indefinitely. Unfortunately she was discovered rather sooner than she might have wished. Digby, alighting to open a gate, almost sent her in to whoops by his expression of shocked dismay. Raising her hand, she placed a finger to her lips. Evidently he was too dumbstruck to say anything to her. He regained the power of speech quickly enough, though, for she clearly heard Perkins cry a minute later, ‘Oh, my gawd!'

The Viscount heard it too and let down the window. ‘Something amiss?'

‘Er—no, m'lord,' Digby answered. ‘It's just that we can see the outskirts of the wood.'

‘Of course you can. I'm well aware of it. Keep your eyes open, both of you.'

He had sounded irritable. Georgiana knew, however, this stemmed only from concern for the servants' welfare.

And he had good reason to be anxious, for no sooner had they entered the wooded terrain than a shot rang out. A cry of pain quickly followed, though whether it was Digby or his lordship's head groom who had taken the shot, Georgiana could not have said with any degree of certainty. Nor did she attempt to discover which of them had been injured. The instant the carriage had drawn to a halt she slipped from the perch and secreted herself beneath the equipage.

By this time all was confusion. Shots had rung out from left and right. She could see three figures on the ground, two writhing in agony and one deathly still. Then a rough voice, clear and carrying, demanded his lordship drop his pistol.

‘Do as I say or your other servant gets it.'

The pistol hit the ground with a thud not a yard from where Georgiana lay. Seemingly, the last of the highway robbers couldn't detect her from where he sat high on a bay horse. The advantage was hers. But for how long? How long before one of the wounded noticed her?

The conveyance above rocked as the Viscount obeyed the rough command to alight. ‘And now, milord, I'll relieve you of the trinkets you be carrying.'

His lordship's response to this demand was to attempt to satisfy his curiosity, ‘Would I be correct in thinking you and your fellows are the very ones who relieved the Earl of Grenville of a fine diamond necklace many moons ago?'

‘Knows about that, do yer?' A sinister chuckle followed. ‘Yeh, if you must know. Not that it'll do yer no good.'

‘And was it, perchance, you personally who put a period to his existence?' his lordship enquired, sounding sublimely unconcerned at having a pistol levelled at his own chest.

‘It were. And I'll be more than 'appy to dispatch you the same way, iffen you don't 'and over them there sparklers o' yourn.'

‘Loath though I am to disappoint you, but you were sadly misinformed. Apart from my purse, I am carrying nothing of value, except perhaps my pocket-watch. Will that assuage your desire for bloodshed?'

‘Quiet!' the highwayman bellowed to his injured
compatriot who was doing his level best to impart that something unto ward was lurking beneath the carriage. ‘I'll not warn 'e again, m'lord.'

Georgiana waited no longer. Rolling out from her hiding place, she fired the pistol she had had the fore-thought to bring with her with unerring accuracy, and the robber's own weapon flew from his hand. For a second or two he remained seated on his horse, stunned, just clasping his injured wrist; the next he was being hauled to the ground by his lordship, who then proceeded to render the villain unconscious with a powerful blow to the jaw.

‘Damned fine shot, Miss Georgie!' Digby approved, while his lordship appeared as though he were doing his utmost not to succumb to an apoplexy.

‘I'll give her good shot!' he hissed between clenched teeth, while at the same time retrieving the highwayman's pistol from the ground. He then checked on the other three, moving their firearms out of harm's way as he did so. ‘How the deuce did you get here?' he then demanded to know before rounding on the hapless Digby. ‘Were you party to this?'

‘Of course he wasn't,' Georgiana assured him, not hesitating to come to her servant's defence. ‘The first he knew about it was when he got down to open that gate back along the road and saw me perched on the rumble seat.'

His lordship took a moment to consider. ‘You couldn't possibly have left London with us.'

‘Of course not,' she confirmed. ‘I didn't leave the metropolis until mid-afternoon. I rode to the White Hart…on your bay, as it happens.'

Just what his lordship's reaction to this piece of downright impertinence might have been had not his
attention been claimed elsewhere was anybody's guess. Not only was the militia rapidly approaching on horseback, but Digby had at last drawn his attention to the fact that his head groom had sustained an injury.

‘It's naught but a scratch,' Perkins assured them all, as he obeyed his master's command to hand the reins to Digby and get down from the carriage.

Not wholly convinced, his lordship insisted the wound receive immediate attention and left Georgiana to deal with the injury, whilst he exchanged a brief word with the officer in charge of the militia. By the time he returned to the carriage Georgiana had made a pad with her own handkerchief and was binding the wound up deftly.

‘It is, indeed, little more than a scratch,' she confirmed, ‘but it should be cleaned properly. And it goes without saying he's in no fit state to tool the carriage. He'll set the arm bleeding again if he does.'

‘I'm quite capable of tooling my own cattle, Perkins,' his lordship assured him, cutting across the head groom's protests. ‘The Major is happy to deal with things here, leaving me free to return to town. And I must get back before nightfall. There's the other members of the organisation to take in to custody, remember? We can, none the less, call in briefly at the White Hart in order to get that wound cleaned properly.' He favoured Georgiana with a darkling look. ‘Besides which, I'm obliged to call back at that inn in order to collect my prized bay!

‘And don't think you're getting away with that piece of gross impertinence so easily, my girl!' he added for good measure, before slamming the carriage door closed and clambering up on the box seat.

 

Although his lordship proved to be highly competent at tooling a carriage and four, it was evening before they arrived back in the capital. Consequently, farewells were not protracted, with Georgiana just raising her hand in a final salute, as his lordship moved away from the Grenville town residence, and then letting her hand fall with a heartfelt sigh.

Digby was not so concerned by his young mistress's unusually sombre state as he was by her indecent boy's attire, and took it upon himself to enter the house first, by way of a side door, and make sure the coast was clear before ushering his subdued mistress up the back stairs to her room. Once there Georgiana didn't delay in donning more appropriate raiment, then wasted no time in searching out the Dowager Countess.

Anything but gratified by this unexpected appearance in her private apartments, the Dowager dismissed the maid before favouring Georgiana with a severe look. ‘I assume you have come in order to offer a reasonable explanation for your departure from town, at least one that is more satisfactory than the one contained in the brief note you left for me?'

Although perfectly understanding her ladyship's annoyance, Georgiana was too consumed with her own miseries to attempt to placate her. Throughout the long journey back to town she had been given ample time to consider her future, and from every angle it looked bleak indeed.

‘It's over, ma'am,' she said softly. ‘It is…all over now.'

Only a fool could have missed the desolation in the voice, and the sorrow flickering in blue eyes, and no one could ever have accused the Dowager of being dull-witted.

Rising from her dressing table, she led the way into her private sitting room. ‘I think you had best sit and tell me all about it, my dear child.'

‘No doubt Lord Fincham will furnish you with a full explanation of events, ma'am. Suffice it to say that he made it known that he was leaving town with the sapphire-and-diamond set he presented to me on the occasion of our engagement. He chose to put his life at risk in order to bring the ringleader to book for his crimes. I discovered what he was planning to do and followed him from town. The robbery was foiled, and those involved…those who survived were taken up by the militia. The other members of the gang are, no doubt, being taken into custody as we speak. The ringleader is none other than Lord Chard, although of course he played no part in the robberies themselves. The man directly responsible for your son's death is now in the hands of the authorities and will stand trial for his crimes.'