Secret Heiress (5 page)

‘Bath…' The marquis frowned. ‘I had thought to return to London. I am not sure you should rush off to Bath in a hurry, Lady Cheadle. We are in no hurry to push Marianne off. If Accrington needs more time to consider, he must have it. I think he was sufficiently
struck to make an offer, but his is an old name and family. He will want to discuss things with his family and his lawyers.'

He reached for the ring he habitually wore and felt its absence as he remembered it was lost, at least for now, given as promise of payment to Daniel Seaton. He would not wear another one, for the ring held memories that could not be replaced by another bauble. He frowned as he thought of the man, of whom he had seen nothing since that evening in town. Seaton might well sell the ring for he was entitled to and he could bear no love for a man who had won ten thousand from his father. Lord Seaton had been drunk. Cheadle had warned him to give up, but he had haughtily refused and the result was predictable. Yet Cheadle had a nagging conscience over it, for he had known the older man was too far gone to realise what he was about.

It was with an effort that he brought his mind back to what his wife was saying.

‘I am determined to go. If Accrington thinks he may lose her, it should bring him to the point sooner rather than later. Have I your assurance that you will accompany us?'

Cheadle narrowed his gaze. ‘Very well, madam. Have it your way. A few days here or there is nothing to me.'

 

‘I shall miss you,' the earl said and sighed heavily. ‘Having you here has been a comfort to me, Daniel.'

‘I shall be sorry to leave you,' Daniel replied. ‘However, there is estate business that takes me home.'

He also had the business of an agent to employ, and had arranged to meet the man in Norwich. He had decided to take up his uncle's cause to find out the truth
about Marcus's death, and so had decided to stay with the earl whilst he put things in motion. It had taken a few days for the exchange of letters, because the man he had chosen was a Bow Street Runner and well recommended. Daniel knew that if his chosen investigator got a scent of something he would go for it like a terrier after a rat and he was eager for the man to begin his work.

After leaving his uncle, Daniel rode through the village. He saw the young woman who had been in his thoughts too often of late. She was standing outside the haberdashers, looking into the window, and an older woman was with her. They seemed to be intent on looking at some materials on display.

Daniel tipped his hat to her and slowed his horse to a standstill.

‘Good morning, Miss Bancroft. How are you?'

‘I am well, sir,' she said. ‘I have had good news—I have been offered employment with a lady.'

‘Most generous terms they are, too,' her companion said. ‘I wouldn't part with my Eliza for the world, but she may get the chance to mix with quality, and that must be good for her.'

‘Good day to you both,' Daniel said. ‘I must get on, for I have an appointment.'

He rode on by, conscious of the fact that something tugged at him and made him want to turn his head. Yet he conquered the need. He admired the young lady but at the moment he had more weighty matters on his mind than dalliance.

 

‘Are you sure you have all you need? Enough money to come back if the carriage isn't there to meet you?' Betty asked, looking at Eliza anxiously. ‘I've packed you some food for the journey, love.'

‘Thank you. I have all I need,' Eliza said and hugged her again. She felt very emotional now the time to part had arrived, and her throat was tight. ‘You will answer my letters?'

‘You know I can't write much,' Betty replied. ‘My Ted will read yours to me and he'll write what I want to say—but you are to write as soon as you get there and let us know you are safe and happy. If there is anything you need…anything you don't like…you are to come back to us on the next mail coach. You have a home with us for as long as you like.'

‘Thank you, my dearest friend,' Eliza said, tears springing to her eyes. She held them back because if she cried Betty would, too. ‘I have been so blessed in my friends. I shall write to you as soon as I can, but I am sure I shall do perfectly well. Lady Sarah sent me a guinea by special post for the journey after she got my letter. Was that not kind of her?'

‘I'm glad we made you that new travelling gown and pelisse,' Betty said. ‘You look a proper young lady and that is only right for you will be mixing in company, I dare say.'

‘I think we may live very quietly. Lady Sarah said that she is a widow and her health is sometimes poor. I do not expect to go anywhere much, except perhaps to the Pump Room.'

‘The waters are supposed to be good for anyone sickly,' Betty said. ‘Well, always remember you can come home if you're unhappy, my love.'

‘Yes, I shall. I had better go, Betty. Ted is ready with the dogcart. I must not keep him waiting; I think he has business in Norwich.'

‘Off you go then, Eliza. Have a good time and be as happy as you can.'

Eliza went out to where her friend's husband sat patiently waiting for them to say their goodbyes. The young groom came to help her in, grinned at her and stood back as Ted whipped up his horse.

‘She looks a proper treat,' he remarked to Betty as they drove off. ‘Anyone would think she were quality.'

‘Well, she is and better than most,' Betty said. ‘Thanks for your help with the trunk but you had better get off now or they will be looking for you at the stables.'

‘Yeah. Ain't got a piece of yer gingerbread, 'ave yer?'

‘I might have,' Betty said and smiled. ‘Come into the kitchen and I'll see what I can find.'

She cast one last regretful glance at the dogcart and went back into the cottage.

 

‘Well, here we are then, Eliza,' Ted Wright said as he pulled the cart to a halt in the busy market square. He glanced round and nodded as he saw the carriage waiting close by the clock tower. The driver seemed to be looking about, as if expecting someone. ‘I'll just go and ask if that's the transport for Miss Eliza Bancroft.'

‘Surely it can't be? A carriage like that for me?' Eliza protested, but the groom was getting down and coming towards them.

‘Would you be Miss Bancroft?' he asked, tipping his tall crowned hat respectfully.

‘Yes, I am. Did Lady Sarah send you to fetch me?'

‘I was sent to take you to Lady Sarah Manners in Bath,' he said, an odd look on his face. ‘Can't exactly say as she sent me. This carriage belongs to the marquis, miss.'

‘The marquis?' Eliza was puzzled. ‘I don't under
stand. You have it right—you are to take me to Lady Sarah, my employer?'

‘Those are my instructions, yes. Is that trunk all you have with you?'

‘And my portmanteau,' Eliza said. ‘I shall carry that—if you would help Mr Wright with the trunk, please?'

‘Yes, of course.'

The man turned away. Together, he and Ted strapped the heavy trunk on the back of the carriage and then Ted came back to her. He held out his hand, placing his other hand over hers as she took it.

‘Don't forget, you can come home any time you like, Miss Eliza.'

‘Thank you,' she whispered, glancing at the groom as he stood with the door open, waiting for her. She climbed in and waved to her friend from behind the window. Her mouth felt dry as she settled back against the comfortable squabs and her throat was tight. She was certainly to travel in luxury and that made her a little apprehensive. Why would the marquis send his carriage—whoever he was? For a moment she wondered if she were being abducted and then the absurdity of such a notion made her smile.

The groom knew the name of her employer. It was quite possible that the marquis was a friend of Lady Sarah and that he had agreed to bring her companion to her.

Feeling relieved to have settled the thing in her mind, Eliza sat back and took out the battered copy of a book she had bought from the second-hand stall at the market. It would serve to pass the time as they traveled, for she knew they would be some days on the road. She would need to take a room at more than one inn and she would
have to rely on the coachman to find a decent house that was not too expensive for her purse.

 

Eliza looked out of the inn window and smiled as she saw it was yet another clear fine day. They had already been three days on the road and she would be glad when they reached Bath, which should not be more than another day at the most, for they had made good time. The Marquis of Cheadle's carriage was well sprung and the journey had been less tiresome than it might have been had she travelled on the mail coach. She had been surprised to find herself staying at the finest inns on the road; when she tentatively asked how much she owed the first morning, she was told that the Marquis of Cheadle's groom had settled the account.

Eliza had immediately tried to settle the debt, but the groom shook his head. ‘I was given me instructions clear, miss. You wus to 'ave all the best and he would pay for yer lodgings.'

‘Oh…' Somewhat taken aback by this statement, she was at first at a loss for words, then, ‘I suppose my employer has settled it with the marquis.'

‘Yes, miss. I dare say you are right.'

She moved away from the window and picked up her portmanteau, which contained all she required for her immediate needs. Her trunk had already been loaded on to the carriage and they were ready to leave again.

‘How much further have we to travel?' she asked as the groom opened the door for her.

‘If we make good time and meet no accidents, we should reach Bath before dark this night, miss.'

‘Thank you.' She smiled at him, relieved that only one day of travelling remained. She had finished her
book and the last hours of the previous day had seemed tedious. ‘You are very kind.'

‘You are welcome, miss.' He touched his hat. ‘I hopes as it is the lady you're working for, miss.'

‘What do you mean by that? I told you at the start, I am to be a companion to Lady Sarah Manners.'

‘Right then, miss. Nothing to worry about then. Get in and we'll be orf.'

Sarah climbed into the carriage, feeling puzzled once more. Something in the groom's manner had disturbed her. She wondered why she was riding in such luxury and once again a shiver of apprehension slithered down her spine. Had she been naïve in accepting the first offer she received?

For a moment she felt a
frisson
of fear at the nape of her neck, but then she took a hold of her nerves. She was being very foolish. It was most unlikely that any marquis would go to so much trouble to abduct a girl he had never seen. She was hardly the most beautiful girl in the world. The thought made her laugh. She had been reading too many romances!

 

Daniel looked across the square and saw the carriage drawn up outside the inn just as the young woman entered it. He frowned, feeling concerned as he recognised her and the crest on the carriage. What on earth was Miss Bancroft doing in the Marquis of Cheadle's carriage? Alarm bells began to ring in his head. He recalled that she had been pleased to receive a generous offer of employment—was she being lured to a false promise? Would she join the legion of the missing?

The thought of Miss Eliza Bancroft being sold into white slavery appalled him. He could not bear to con
template such a thing. It must not be allowed to happen. He must do something—and quickly.

Eliza must be warned that the marquis was not all he seemed. If he had charmed her into believing that she would be his lover or his mistress…no, he would not permit it.

Somehow he must prevent her from plunging into a life of shame and degradation. Yet how could he prevent her? He must go after her—but how to stop the carriage? What could he say?

An idea so reckless and foolhardy that it made him laugh for sheer mischief came to his mind. He dismissed it instantly, but it returned and he felt that he must risk it for Eliza's sake. He was not sure if she travelled alone, but if the marquis was with her in the carriage it would be necessary to disguise himself. A grim smile touched his mouth.

If Cheadle was involved in the vile gang that he believed was behind his cousin's death, he would find out soon enough that he had an enemy.

 

Eliza was brought from her reverie by a shout of alarm from the coachman and then a violent jolting as the carriage came to a sudden halt. She was thrown from her seat and for a moment landed on her knees on the floor of the carriage. Picking herself up, she was about to look out of the window when the door was opened.

‘You had best get down, miss. I hope you wasn't hurt?'

‘No, just shaken.' She took the coachman's hand. ‘What happened?' she enquired as he helped her descend. ‘Have we…?' She was about to ask if the carriage had suffered an accident, but seeing the masked rider caught her breath. ‘What are you doing, sir?' He
had a pistol directed at coachman's chest. ‘That thing is dangerous…'

For a moment the highwayman seemed disinclined to answer. He sat his horse, staring down at them in silence.

Eliza lifted her head, anger making her impetuous. ‘I fear you have mistaken your victim, sir. I have only a few coins in my purse—and this ring.' She felt for the ring she had found in her mother's sewing box. It was still on the ribbon that had been with it, hidden under her baby clothes. She took out her purse and offered both it and the ring to the highwayman. ‘Please take these and allow us to go on. I beg you, do not harm these good men—they have done nothing to hurt you.'

‘Who are you?' the masked man asked in a gruff voice she suspected was disguised. ‘Why are you riding in the Marquis of Cheadle's carriage—what is he to you?'

He had accepted the purse and ring, which she noticed he examined before slipping them into his coat pocket. For a moment he hesitated, then beckoned her closer.