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Authors: Catherine Reynolds

Tags: #Regency Romance

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BOOK: The Highwayman
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Certainly, if the highwayman had struck while Jon was safely ensconced here at Meadowbrook, they could not be one and the same person. Of course, it was very wrong of him to have deceived her so, and she fully intended to have that out with him. Still, it was a great relief to know that he was not, after all, a criminal.

Agatha was looking at her as though she had lost her senses.

“Don’t you see, Agatha?” Jane explained eagerly. “This proves that Jo—that Mr. Sebast cannot be the highwayman.”

Instead of looking pleased, Agatha merely shook her head sadly and said with great reluctance, “It proves that he could not have robbed the squire last night, but I fear that it does not prove his innocence in the matter.”

“What on earth do you mean?” demanded Jane. “Of course it proves his innocence.”

“Oh, my dear, I very much fear I have made a dreadful mistake,” said the older woman, shaking her head again. “And all because I wished so much to believe—but that is neither here nor there. The fact of the matter is that I knew he had an accomplice.”

“An accomplice! Will you please tell me what you are talking about?” cried Jane.

Agatha explained about the message Jon had asked her to send to the man Kearny, and as she did so, Jane felt the heaviness of disappointment settle over her. She bit her lip as she recalled that just before entering his chamber last night, she thought she had heard voices. Subsequent events had blotted that from her mind, but now it seemed very significant, especially as she had found him standing at the open window.

Silence fell as Jane sat, frowning thoughtfully, toying with the food on her plate.

Agatha watched her worriedly, but after several minutes, when Jane still had not spoken, she asked, “What shall we do?”

Jane straightened in her chair and said firmly, “Why, nothing at all. We shall go on as before.”

She had quickly decided that there was no reason at all for her spirits to be so lowered. Nothing had really changed, except that now it was more important than ever to get on with her goal. In point of fact, she was even more determined to try to turn Jon from his wayward and destructive path.

“But should we not at least tell the squire of our suspicions?” Agatha enquired doubtfully.

“Certainly not! Suspicion is all we have, and that is not enough to condemn a man. And it is not as if we did not suspect from the beginning that Mr. Sebast was the highwayman.” Jane did not add that Jon had, in fact, admitted as much to her.

“Yes,” conceded Agatha with a puzzled expression. “But do you know, I had convinced myself that we were wrong and that he was a gentleman. I don’t know how my intuition could have led me so far astray. It has never done so before.”

Agatha seemed more overset by the thought that her intuition had played her false than she was by the confirmation that Jon was the highwayman, and Jane had to smile. “Well, if it will make you feel any better,” she said, “I am in perfect agreement with you. I believe he is a gentleman, or at least was bred to be one. Furthermore, I do not believe he is beyond being reformed.”

“Indeed it does make me feel better,” said Agatha after a moment. “If that is so, perhaps my intuition was not so wrong, after all. Still, our first duty must be to get him well enough to leave here, which does not give you much time to reform him. But you know it would not do to have him here when Alice arrives.”

Nor did it leave much time for her own hopes and plans to mature, she thought sadly, but perhaps that was just as well. As much as she longed to see Jane happily married, she could not suppose that a highwayman—even a reformed one, with the manners of a gentleman—would make an appropriate husband. These reflections, however, Agatha kept to herself.

“No,” said Jane, “but I do not expect Alice until the end of the week, and in the meantime, I have already begun my campaign to turn our highwayman in another direction.”

“How?” asked Agatha curiously.

Jane flushed slightly. “Well, as he expressed an interest in doing so, I am allowing him to look over the account books.”

“Good heavens!” said her companion, sounding gleeful and shocked at the same time. “I would never have dreamed that you, of all people, would be so vulgar as to permit a near stranger to become privy to your rather straitened circumstances.”

Jane’s flush deepened. “You know perfectly well that I would not ordinarily do so, but I believe that, in this case, such a breach of good taste may be justified by the result. Do you not see? If Mr. Sebast shows some aptitude for estate management, perhaps... perhaps the vicar may know of someone who may hire him in that capacity.”

At that moment the discussion was brought to an abrupt end as both women became aware of some sort of commotion in the entry hall. They stared at each other in dismay as a young female voice was heard over the rest of the hubbub.

Fearing the worst, Jane rose from the table and left the breakfast room.

In the entry hall, Melrose was staring dumbly at a huge pile of baggage as if he did not understand what it was or how it had got there. He looked up, clearly appalled, as more of the stuff was carried in by two liveried footmen.

In the midst of this mountain of luggage stood an extremely pretty girl with blond curls framing her heart-shaped face, and dressed in a fashionable sprigged muslin gown. She was removing her gloves as she directed the footmen to set the various pieces down wherever they could find room. Then, catching sight of Jane, she lifted her skirts immodestly high, climbed over the pile of bags, bandboxes and trunks, and hurried towards her hostess.

“Oh, Miss Lockwood! The most exciting thing has happened. Papa was actually robbed by the highwayman last night! Can you believe it? Oh, how I wish I had been there.”

“Yes, I am sure it would have been most diverting for you,” said Jane dryly, hiding her dismay at this turn of events. “But, my dear Alice, I was not expecting you quite so soon.”

“Oh, well. Papa knew that you would not mind in the least,” Alice replied airily. “And you must know how dreadfully overset he was by his encounter with that devilish rogue. He decided that he must spend a few days in Brighton to calm his nerves before setting out for the Continent.”

Not wishing to begin their relationship by criticizing the girl, Jane had said nothing about the unladylike way in which Alice had climbed over her baggage. But she really could not let this pass. “My dear,” she said quietly, so that none of the servants would hear, “one should always start out as one means to go on, and that being the case, it is my duty to tell you that you must not use such terms as ‘devilish rogue.’“

Alice’s lovely blue eyes widened innocently. “But that is what Papa calls the highwayman.”

Jane refrained from saying that the squire should not be using such language in his daughter’s presence. But since it was not, thank heaven, a part of her job to try to change the father’s ways, she only said, “That may very well be. But men are free to say and do a great many things which are not at all proper for a lady.”

Alice put her hands on her hips and said indignantly, “Well, it all seems very silly to me, and not at all fair.”

Jane had difficulty suppressing a smile as she suddenly thought of how Jon would laugh at that when she told him. Yes, and most likely agree wholeheartedly. But before she could answer, another girl, scarcely older than Alice, entered the house. From her mode of dress, and demeanor, it was not difficult to guess that this was Alice’s abigail.

Jane regarded the newcomer with a mixture of relief and chagrin: relief, because she knew that if Elsie were forced to wait upon Alice, she would no doubt leave in a huff before the day was out; chagrin because every additional person in the house made it more difficult to keep Jon’s presence a secret.

Doing her best to force that worry from her mind, she spent much of the morning getting Alice settled in, which was no easy chore. The amount of baggage the girl had brought with her made it necessary to prepare a larger chamber than had originally been planned for her use. And with only Elsie to help her, since Agatha was kept occupied in trying to entertain Alice, Jane was obliged to do most of the work.

In addition, she was called out to tend one of her tenants for a stomach complaint which proved to be no more than a touch of dyspepsia, easily relieved. The performance of this small service took up the remainder of the morning.

By noon, Jane was exhausted and longing to escape her seemingly endless tasks to see how Jon fared. With that object in mind, immediately after their nuncheon, she set her reluctant young charge to reading a book entitled
Correct Conduct and Manners for Young Females.
Only then did she feel it safe to look in on her patient.

Slipping through the door of his chamber a few minutes later and closing it quickly behind her, she felt distressingly like a sneak-thief.

But Jon seemed not to notice her furtiveness as be looked up and said, “Where the devil have you been? I wished to discuss these....” He stopped, and a slow smile spread over his face before he broke into laughter. “Good God, woman! What has happened to you? You look as if you had been dragged through the brush backwards.”

Jane’s hands flew to her hair. Sure enough, her cap was missing, and most of her hair seemed to have come loose from its usual neat arrangement. She spent only a moment in trying to smooth it, however, deciding that as he had already seen her like this, it was too late to do anything about it. Instead, she sank down wearily onto the bedside chair and began to tell him about Alice and her agreement with the squire to take his daughter into her home for a short time, and to coach that rather lively young lady in how to conduct herself in Society.

When she reached the point in her story concerning Alice’s unexpected arrival, she discovered that she had been perfectly right. He did laugh, and he agreed with Alice’s views on the unfairness of propriety. Amazingly, Jane found herself laughing with him. For he had also listened to her tale with interest and sympathized with her plight when she expressed doubts over the enormity of the task before her. In any event, she felt immensely better after she had unburdened herself.

He reached out to touch her hand when she was done. “Poor honey,” he said, and Jane nearly melted at the endearment as well as at his touch.

Despising herself for blushing again, she looked away. “Yes, well, I suppose I have only myself to blame.”

“I’ll not argue with you there,” he teased. “But what have you done with the chit? Locked her in her chamber?”

Jane could not prevent another laugh at that. “Don’t think I would not love to,” she retorted. “But no. I have her reading a very improving book on deportment.”

“Good God! If you have managed to command such docility from her already, I don’t see that you should have any problem with her at all.”

Looking
very
sheepish, Jane said, “I fear I neither managed nor commanded her compliance. In fact, I bribed her.”

He burst into laughter again. “Oh, Jane, I have not enjoyed anything so much in a very long time. But you must not leave me in suspense. You must tell me how you bribed her.”

Reluctantly she admitted, “I told her that if she was
very
good for the next few days, we would have a picnic on Saturday, and perhaps go on a shopping expedition to Leeds on Monday.”

An exaggerated look of thoughtfulness appeared on his face, then, after a pause he said quite judiciously, “I believe that you have hit upon the only means of handling the girl. In fact, you have made only one mistake that I can see.”

Jane knew that he was teasing her, but she was enjoying the game too much not to play along. “And what, pray tell, is that?”

“Really, my dear,” he told her with a broad grin, “you must be a trifle less free with your bribes. You must offer her only one at a time.”

“I shall try to remember that in future,” she said with a touch of irony. Then, noticing the account books spread out around him on the bed, she added, “I see you have been keeping yourself busy.”

A slight frown furrowed his brow. “Yes, but I should like to keep them awhile longer, if I may. Everything seems to be in order, and yet— How long did you say this Phillips has been with you?”

“Well, Father hired him shortly before his death, and that was four years ago.’’

“Hmm,” he said, giving no clue to his thoughts. But after a moment, he commented, “I notice that these books are all of recent date. It would be helpful if I could see some of the records from before Phillips’s time. Would that be possible? It would give me a better overall view of things.”

His continued interest sounded quite hopeful to her, and she said, “Very well. And perhaps you would like to speak with Phillips, too? He is very knowledgeable about estate management.”

“Why, yes,” he agreed with an oddly grim smile. “Very likely I shall, but not for a few days yet, I think. I prefer to learn a little more on my own first.”

Jane nodded vaguely, for his mention of a few more days had reminded her of her biggest dilemma: how to keep his continued presence here a secret.

Throughout the day, she had been worrying at the problem in the back of her mind. The wisest course would be to spirit him out of the house tonight, after Alice was abed. But where could she send him where he would be safe? And even if she could find an answer to that question, once he was gone it was very probable that she would never see him again.

She tried to ignore the feeling of desolation brought on by that thought and concentrated instead on the fact that her plans to reform him would then come to naught. Of course that was the main reason for her reluctance to see him go. That, and the question of his safety.

She had stood and begun to wander about the room as these considerations ran through her mind. Now she found herself beside the window, gazing down at the floor. So preoccupied was she that it was a moment before she realized what she was seeing.
Pebbles.
There was a scattering of pebbles on the floor.

At first she felt only irritation with Elsie for having failed to clean the chamber today, but then she remembered that the maid had been otherwise occupied. Almost simultaneously, the significance of those pebbles struck her. She understood at once how they came to be there. Obviously someone had thrown them at the window to attract Jon’s attention. They were added proof that Jon did, indeed, have an accomplice, one with whom he had been in contact last night.

BOOK: The Highwayman
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