The Mysterious Lord Marlowe (6 page)

‘My name is Jane—Jane Lanchester.’

‘Well, Miss Jane…what are we to do about this wicked rogue who has snatched your friend, then? Master George has gone to see what he can find out, but I doubt a rogue like that will be easy to find.’

‘He could be almost anywhere.’ Jane smothered a sob. ‘He may harm her if he isn’t stopped in time—and that will be my fault for delaying George. Had I not interfered he might have found her by now.’

‘Mebbe and mebbe not,’ Martha said. ‘’Twas a rash thing you did, Mistress Jane—but mayhap it was meant to be. Fate works in mysterious ways and it may yet turn out for the best.’

‘What do you mean?’ Jane sat up, her head whirling. ‘How can what happened be a good thing?’

‘I feel it in my bones,’ Martha said. ‘I’m no witch, mistress, but sometimes I see things—and I can read the tea leaves. I read Master George’s last night. He is in danger, there’s no
denying it—and so are you—but I saw good fortune in the leaves.’

‘I pray you are right, Martha.’ Jane closed her eyes and lay back on the pillow. ‘I ought to get up. I am sure this is your bed and I have robbed you of a night’s rest—but I feel a little dizzy.’

‘There’s no hurry, lass. I slept on the sofa last night and George had a blanket on the floor. I’ll bring you something to eat and you’ll feel better soon. Until then, you should stay in bed.’

‘Thank you.’ Jane sighed. She was too weary to argue and she felt tearful. George had gone without saying goodbye to her. Would he return?

It shouldn’t matter. Now that he had left her she ought to be making plans to go home, but for the moment she did not feel well enough to make the attempt. Besides, if she did that, she might never see George again—and all contact with him would be broken. At least this way he might still help them rescue Mariah. Andrew would be worried, but perhaps George would keep his word and send her brother a message to let him know she was safe.

If she was safe! If George was right, Blake
might still be looking for them. He might even turn up at the cottage.

‘Please come back, George,’ Jane whispered, and a tear slid down her cheek. ‘Please do not leave me alone.’

She wasn’t alone. She was with a very kind woman who had given up her bed for her.

Jane wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. She was not a foolish weak woman to go into a decline because a man had left her. Once before she had thought herself falling in love with a man she hardly knew, but she had heard him dismiss her as that ‘plain-faced harpy’. He’d declared to a friend that he wouldn’t take her if she had twenty thousand a year.

That man’s cruel words, even though spoken in jest, had hurt her deeply. She’d decided then that she would not lay herself open to similar hurt again and had declined all attempts to draw her into another London Season. She would be very foolish to let her heart be touched by a man who had helped abduct her, even if he been kind to her. Jane wasn’t even sure that he would keep his word to return for her.

She would stay here for two days, but, if
George didn’t return by then, she would find her way home somehow.

* * *

Jane was able to get up later that day. She went down to the kitchen to sit with Martha, refusing to use the best parlour even though she was invited.

‘I do not intend to sit around wasting my time until George returns,’ she said. ‘Today I shall just sit quietly, but tomorrow I could help you—if you would find me some work.’

‘In the morning, I must collect herbs and roots that I use for my cures,’ Martha said. ‘When I return I shall need to wash and chop them before I can make my recipes. You could help me with that if you choose.’

Jane thanked her. She was determined to earn her keep somehow, and after they had eaten their evening meal, helped to clear away and wash the dishes. Martha insisted that she take the bed again when it grew dark and since she would not be persuaded to let Jane take the sofa, she was obliged to give way.

She was wearing clothes Martha had provided. The much-washed linen gown fitted her well enough, though it was far from fashionable
and had probably been Martha’s when she was young. Jane smiled to herself as she donned a rather too-large nightgown and slipped between the sheets. She was tired and went to sleep almost at once, though when she woke there were tears on her cheeks.

* * *

In the morning she went down to find the kitchen empty. Martha had lit the fire and there was a blackened copper kettle steaming away on the hob and some warm bread rolls wrapped in a cloth. Jane fetched butter from the pantry and spread one of the rolls, smearing it thinly with honey. It was clear to her that Martha lived frugally and she made up her mind that she would find some way of repaying the woman’s kindness once she was at liberty to go home.

It occurred to her that there was nothing to stop her leaving the cottage and making her way home right away. Yet she had no money and, though her ankle had almost completely recovered, she might have to walk all the way home. On horseback she could reach Alderbury within a few hours, but on foot it would take much longer. Besides, she would be alone and
she could not be certain that Blake did not have men looking for her.

Her own situation was comfortable compared to Mariah’s. Jane felt anxious and guilty as she thought of her friend. She wished she might do something to help Mariah, yet she believed the duke would be searching for his ward. Jane knew the name of her abductor, but there was no further clue she could give them. The only person who might be able to help was George. She just had to hope that he would return and bring news of her neighbour.

* * *

‘What do you make of this?’ Andrew asked and showed Avonlea the brief letter he had found on his return home after a day of fruitless searching. ‘It is signed by someone who calls himself a friend…’

Justin took the note and read it aloud.

‘I’m damned if I know,’ he said, his brow furrowed. ‘Is it a trick to put us off the scent, do you think?’

‘If Jane trusted this fellow, she would try to get word to me.’ Andrew looked thoughtful. ‘It seems as if our theories were correct. It is Mariah’s money this rogue is after.’

‘Who do you imagine sent you the letter?’

‘If I knew, I should be out looking for him,’ Andrew said. ‘If I have correctly interpreted this message, he has Jane hidden away somewhere while he looks for Mariah.’

‘Why should he do that?’ Justin scowled. ‘If he has information about this affair, he should come to me. He probably thinks to extort money from me by hinting that he can help when he has had both Mariah and Jane captive all the time. I heard from Mariah’s trustees this morning—they have still heard nothing. I do not think the rogue intends to ransom Mariah. He plans marriage or—God knows what he will do.’

‘Anything is possible,’ Andrew agreed. ‘Yet I think this letter well intentioned. I shall continue the search for her, though at the moment I have no idea where to look next. I am going to pay a visit to my hunting box in Wiltshire. I shall visit the local magistrates and post some missing-person notices in the vicinity. I doubt she will be there, but I’ve had no luck locally and there is a matter of business I must attend in Alderbury. It cannot hurt to widen the search and if I sit here and do nothing I shall go out of my mind.’

* * *

‘Be careful with those foxgloves,’ Martha said. ‘Scrub your hands thoroughly before you touch your lips. They have healing properties, but are poison if the juice is swallowed in large doses.’

‘Yes, I have heard that,’ Jane said and smiled. ‘My nurse dragged me off to wash my hands when I had been picking them as a child. She was worried that I might be ill and gave me something that made me sick just in case.’

‘No doubt she was worried that she would be blamed if anything happened. Children are often a worry to their nurses.’

‘What are you making?’ Jane asked, looking
curious as Martha ground seeds and juices into a pulp.

‘It is a potion to treat the hind leg of a cow,’ Martha said. ‘Most people cannot afford to pay the apothecary to treat their animals. I charge nothing for what I gather in the hedgerows, but sometimes a grateful farmer or the mother of a sick child will bring me a gift of food.’

‘What would make your life easier here, Martha? I doubt you have much need of money. You seem to grow or scavenge for all you need in the fields.’

‘I had a cow until it died of old age,’ Martha said and gave her a wry smile. ‘Milk is a luxury for me these days—cheese, too.’

Jane nodded as she finished chopping some horseradish roots and stored the pieces in little pots. She was reaching for the cloth to wash the pine tabletop when she heard the sound of a horse outside.

‘Go upstairs until I call you,’ Martha said. ‘It is best to be careful just in case.’

Jane went through the door that shut off the staircase. However, she was no more than halfway up the stairs when she heard Martha call to her and ran back down, her heart racing.

George was standing in the kitchen. Until
this moment she had not realised how tall and strong he was—or how much she’d missed him. Her heart pounded and the palms of her hands were warm and sticky.

‘You did not go to London then?’

‘No. I must do so soon, perhaps tomorrow. I went to find someone—someone who knows Blake better than I do. He gave me a few ideas. I now know where he lives—and at least one place he frequents that I did not know of before.’

‘Do you think he has Mariah there?’

‘I cannot say, but I intend to find out tomorrow.’

‘Why do you not tell her guardian?’

‘Who is that?’

‘Well, before she was married the Duke of Avonlea was her guardian—but there are other trustees now. Still, I think the duke would be the proper person to approach. I am certain he would be reasonable and listen to your story, for he is a most correct man.’

‘Then I may do so as soon as I have news. As yet it may be a wild goose chase. And Blake still has something of mine. I need to find it before I give him up.’

‘That is selfish and wrong, sir.’ Jane sent him
a hard look. ‘Whatever hold this rogue has over you it cannot be as important as a girl’s life.’

For a moment anger flashed in his dark eyes and his mouth tightened. She saw the way his fists balled at his side, but he answered her in the same calm tone.

‘As I told you before, Jane, if it were just me that would suffer, I would give him up now—would have done so before this. Please believe me, I am as concerned for Lady Fanshawe’s safety as you are.’

‘Why do you not tell her the truth?’ Martha asked and looked up from her work. ‘You are too loyal sometimes, Master George.’

‘Hold your tongue, Martha,’ George said sharply. ‘You will please keep your opinions to yourself.’

‘You’re a fool to yourself—and the lass is right. A woman’s life is more important than—’ Martha broke off as he looked at her and turned back to her work.

‘You still have no idea where Mariah is being held?’ Jane asked to break the tension. It would do no good to make him lose his temper.

‘No, Miss Lanchester, I do not,’ George said and looked her in the eyes. ‘I have sent word
to your brother that you are safe for the moment.’

‘I cannot stay here much longer,’ Jane said. ‘Surely Blake will have given up looking for me by now?’

‘Perhaps.’ George appeared doubtful. ‘I should like to talk to you alone, Miss Lanchester—if you would take a walk out with me?’

‘Yes, of course.’ Jane looked at her hostess. ‘May I borrow your shawl, Martha?’

‘Yes, of course, lass. ’Tis mild enough for the time of year, but you’re welcome to borrow it. I’m nearly done here. I’ll be cooking a rabbit stew for our supper, but it will not be ready for three hours so you’ve plenty of time for your talk.’

‘Thank you.’ Jane turned to George. ‘I think we do need to talk—and I should like a walk now that my ankle no longer hurts as much.’

He offered her his hand. After a moment’s hesitation she took it and they went out of the kitchen door, walking through the vegetable garden to the lane beyond.

‘I am very grateful to Martha for taking me in,’ Jane said as they began to stroll across the open countryside towards a small wood. ‘Yet I am certain my brother is searching for
me, and he must be very worried. I think I should go home and take my chances. I cannot stay here for long. Martha has little enough food for herself and I am depriving her of her bed.’

George frowned. ‘She is very proud. I have offered her money before this, but she refuses it.’

‘She has no need of money. I think a cow, perhaps a sow in pig and some poultry. I shall certainly make her a present of the cow when I am home again.’

George was defensive, his mouth tight with annoyance.

‘You make me feel that I have neglected her. In my defence I had been in the army until a few months ago—but, you are correct, I should have made certain she had all she needs.’

‘As you say, she is proud and would not accept charity, but she has looked after me and I hope she will accept my gift.’

‘I shall make certain she is able to survive the winter without hardship,’ George said. ‘Thank you for drawing my attention to her needs, Miss Lanchester. It was not intentional neglect.’

‘I dare say you have had a great deal on your mind.’

‘Yes, more than I wished for when I sold my commission,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘I had hoped for some peace and time to enjoy life, but it seems fate has decreed otherwise.’

They had reached a stile. George gave her his hand to help her over. As she came down the other side, she caught her heel in the hem of her dress that was slightly too long and fell. George moved swiftly to catch her. For a moment he held her close to his body.

Jane glanced up at him. She was not surprised when he lowered his head and kissed her. Something had been growing between them since that first night. His kiss was sweet, his lips firm and yet tender. He smiled ruefully as he released her. She found herself responding without reserve despite all her doubts. When he released her she felt sorry and wished she might cling to him, stay in his arms for ever.