Unmasked (31 page)

Mari wrapped her arms around her cold body, seeking comfort. “I can only tell him the truth and hope that I can make him understand,” she said. “I am certain that he will not denounce us but whether he will be able to forgive me is another matter.” She shivered. “I don’t know, Laura. I can only hope.”

M
OLLY
from the Hen and Vulture stood in the middle of the road from Leyburn to Skipton, wringing her hands in a very pretty fashion as she surveyed the wreck of her carriage, which was half in the ditch and half blocking the road. To her right was a copse of trees between the road and the river, and to her left the steep side of the Yorkshire fells climbed toward the sky. Today Molly was wearing a red wig rather than a blond one, courtesy of a chest of theatrical costumes belonging to the Duchess of Cole, a cloak with a hood, and a blue velvet mask. Her lips were painted a deep cherry-red and her cloak was unfastened to reveal a scarlet dress that was very low cut indeed. The Captain of Dragoons who had stopped to offer Molly assistance was barely able to take his eyes from her extremely tempting décolletage.

“Oh, Captain,” Molly said, casting her eyes modestly down, “I cannot think what happened! My groom says that a fox ran across the road and the horses shied and—” She gestured helplessly toward the ditch where the carriage was canted at a sharp angle and a very thin groom and a very large coachman had unharnessed the horses and were struggling ineffectually to right it, all the time swearing beneath their breath.

“Lord Tremblett will be so disappointed if I am late,” Molly said, letting her fingers drift across her décolletage and noting that the Captain’s avid gaze followed the movement. “He and I have a very special arrangement. Captain—” she put a soft white hand on his arm “—you are a man of the world and understand such matters. Could your men—” she glanced hopefully at the five soldiers who were drawn up and evidently guarding the closed carriage that had come to a standstill in the middle of the blocked road “—would you mind terribly…Would you be able to help? Please, Captain. It means so much to me….”

The Captain cleared his throat. On the one hand he had a particularly important prisoner to deliver to the jail in Skipton Castle. On the other there was Molly, with her deep red lips and her equally deep cleavage. And her carriage was blocking the way, after all. It would take only a moment to shift. He smiled at Molly.

“Come on, lads,” he called. “You heard the lady. Set to!”

The soldiers put down their weapons and came forward eagerly enough to help the groom and the coachman, and there was much good-natured banter as they pushed and pulled at the obstinately wedged coach. The Captain had no intention of dirtying his uniform and stayed beside Molly to engage in a little heavy-handed gallantry.

“I should be most obliged to know the name of the lady I rescued,” he said, stroking his moustache and smiling down at her.

Molly cast him a look from under her lashes. “I am Molly Lane, sir.”

The Captain took her hand and raised it to his lips. “Well, Miss Lane, I wonder if you might make an old soldier happy and remove your mask? I long to look on your prettiness.”

Molly simpered. “Oh, Captain, I would love to make you happy but my Lord Tremblett insists on secrecy! Indeed I do think that he feels that for a woman to be masked adds a special little thrill to our trysts—”

Something like a groan escaped the Captain’s lips. “Please, ma’am…” He was very nearly begging.

“Oh, Captain, I don’t think so.” Molly was coy. She tilted her face up to him so that her pretty, painted red lips were very close to his own. “My Lord Tremblett is most possessive,” she whispered. The Captain leaned closer. “Indeed if he could see me now, Captain,” Molly continued, “I do believe that he would most likely put a bullet through you, but it would be worth it for just one kiss—”

And as the Captain leaned in to kiss her, something very hard and heavy came down on the back of his head and he crumpled silently to the ground.

“Thank God,” Mari said. “I did not think I could sustain that much longer.”

“He will be having sweet dreams,” Laura said. She swung her horse around, the bay mare with the white blazon on its head, and faced the soldiers. Lenny and Josie, the groom and coachman, had whipped pistols out from beneath their cloaks and were holding the bemused redcoats at gunpoint. Laura rode up to them and brought the horse in close, so close that her black cloak brushed against their bodies and their eyes were level with the barrel of her pistol.

“We are the Glory Girls!” Her voice was steady. “We ride for justice and to free your prisoner.” She nodded at Lenny and Josie. “Tie them up.”

“Stone the crows,” one of the soldiers said. He scratched his head. “Never thought to see the day I’d see Glory ride.”

“Quiet!” Laura snapped. “On the ground.”

The soldiers were no martyrs. They had already been tricked into laying down their weapons and now they put up no resistance whilst Lenny and Josie bound them and tumbled them unceremoniously into the hedge. Mari bent down beside the Captain’s prone body, retrieved the keys to the closed carriage and tossed them up to Hester.

“He won’t be alone in there,” she warned as Hester turned the black stallion toward the coach. “Be careful.”

There were two men in the carriage beside John Teague. One was Dexter Anstruther. The other was Nick.

Mari’s heart turned over to see him.

“Put down your weapons,” Hester called. “We are armed and we have the soldiers hostage.”

Nick’s eyes met Mari’s and for a long, long moment they looked at one another and then he threw his pistol out of the carriage and jumped down onto the road. He lowered the steps and John Teague came stumbling down, blinking in the bright sunlight, Dexter Anstruther behind him.

Hester gave a muffled squeak and leaped down from the black stallion, running across the track to hurl herself on John Teague. His arms were shackled and he stood still beneath Hester’s embrace as though he could not quite believe she was there, but when she unlocked his chains, he caught her up and spun her around as though he would never let her go ever again.

“Come on,” Mari said, giving them a gentle shove away from the coach as Laura and Josie came over to cover Nick and Anstruther. “John, your horses are in the trees. We’ve packed your saddlebags. There’s food and money. Make for Liverpool.” She broke off, a lump in her throat, as Hester turned to her and grabbed her in a bear hug.

“Write to me,” Mari whispered. “As soon as you can.”

Over Hester’s shoulder she could see Nick watching her. He had not taken his gaze from her once and she could not read his expression.

Hester’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “Look after Starbotton for me,” she said, and Mari knew that it broke her heart to leave. “Maybe one day I will come home, but if I have John, then I have my world, and I think that America will be the very place for me.” She raised her chin bravely. “I hear it is
marvelous.
Glory—” she turned and blew Laura a kiss “—thank you!”

“Go,” Laura said. “Good luck!”

Hand in hand they ran for the trees whilst Laura and Josie kept their pistols trained on Nick and Anstruther, then Laura rode forward slowly, grabbed Dexter Anstruther by the neck cloth, leaned down from the saddle and kissed him long and hard on the mouth.

“Lord save us,” Josie said as Laura released Anstruther and tossed him one of Glory’s calling cards with the flaunting peacock on it. “Glory’s never done that before!”

“Time to go,” Laura said. Josie and Lenny had gone to take the carriage horses. Laura was holding the reins of Hester’s black stallion, and looking at Mari with a very quizzical expression.

Mari squared her shoulders. It had been part of the plan for her to swap horses with Hester to throw any pursuers off the scent, but now the moment was upon her she was not at all sure she could do it. The horse looked absolutely enormous from where she was standing and not very friendly, either.

Then she saw Nick’s face. He was looking at her and at last there was a smile in his eyes, a look of challenge; the sort of look that said he might have taught her to ride properly but
of course
she would not be able to handle a horse like that. He looked as though he fully expected her to beg Laura to take her up instead and a fine ignominious end that would be to the exploits of the Glory Girls.

Mari’s heart lifted to see the smile but the challenge was all the incentive that she needed. She put her foot in the stirrup and swung herself up to sit astride, triumphant in her scarlet dress. She looked down at Nick and gave him the biggest, most jubilant smile that she could. She saw his eyes widen in disbelief and an expression of extreme apprehension come into his face. She turned the horse expertly and passed so close to him that her ruffled petticoats brushed against his body like a promise. She heard Laura laugh and then they were away, Josie and Lenny thundering behind them, as they galloped across the fields to the river, splashed through the ford and up into the beech woods and the track for home. The blood was singing in her veins, the breeze cool on her face, and she felt elated and free.

“At last,” she said to Laura, slowing to a canter and leaning forward to pat the stallion’s neck. “At last I understand why you enjoy riding!”

Josie and Lenny left them where the track to Half Moon House cut southward. They took the black stallion and the bay mare with them to stable, leaving Mari and Laura to walk back down the path to Peacock Oak.

“I must go home,” Mari said, “if I am to have time to change before Nicholas returns.” She kissed Laura’s cheek. “You were splendid,” she said.

“You, too,” Laura said, returning the squeeze of her hand and neither of them said anything about what Nick might say or do when he returned, but both of them thought it.

Mari walked across the deer park and through the gate in the wall. It was a very quiet autumn day, with the leaves drifting gently down from the trees in the great park and the sheep wandering peacefully amongst the grass. Mari hurried up the garden, shedding her blue velvet mask as she went and slipping off the red wig, which had made her head itch. She ran her fingers through her hair as it fell around her bare shoulders.

She mounted the steps on to the terrace. And stopped.

Nick was standing by the garden door. Mari’s first thought was to wonder how on earth he had got back so quickly. Her second was that even though he had smiled at her earlier and she had dared to hope that everything might be all right, he was now looking stern, unyielding and very, very angry.

Mari’s heart did a strange little flip and sank so low she felt faint all of a sudden and had to put a hand on the balustrade to steady herself. She had taken a risk and now she faced the reckoning. She had done it for Hester because Hester was her friend and had stood by her and she owed Hester so much. But suddenly she feared more than anything else in the world that this was the moment in which she lost everything that had come to be important to her, her love, her life, her freedom, if she lost the one man that she loved more than anything else.

For what seemed like forever they stood and looked at each other, and then Nick straightened up.

“I guessed what you would plan to do so I sent word ahead,” he said. “To Liverpool docks. I thought they would seek passage to America. I trust I guessed correctly.”

Mari closed her eyes. All the hope in her was blotted out in a huge burst of grief. He had sent word ahead to the authorities to capture Hester and John. She could not bear it. She knew she had asked a lot of him, but she had dared to think that he might understand.

“I thought they would need a fast ship,” Nick said. He was watching her face. “I wanted to make sure that it was waiting for them and ready to sail. I sent word last night.”

Mari’s gaze came up to his slowly, as his words sank in.

“You helped them…” Her voice came out as a whisper. “You understand?”

Nick did not answer at once and so she hurried on. “I had to do it,” she said. “I am sorry, Nicholas. I love you so deeply and I did not want to put you in that position because it was not fair to you, but I owed it to Hester. You do understand?”

Nick’s face was still expressionless. “I do,” he said. “Hester is your friend. She and Laura cared for you when there was no one else. Of course I understand.” He drove his hands into his pockets, moved away from her a little. “And I understand for another reason, too,” he said. He rested against the balustrade, staring out across the garden. “I understand because I would have done the same as John Teague did.” He turned his head to look at her.

“That day when you told me what Rashleigh had done to you,” he said, a little harshly, “had he still been alive then, I would have found him and challenged him and killed him, and no power on earth would have stopped me because I love you so much.”

He covered the distance to her side in two steps and pulled her to him so tightly that she gasped for breath.

“It might not be good,” he said against her hair, “it might not be admirable, but I could not be enough of a hypocrite to see a man condemned to death for what I would have done myself.”

For a long time they stood there, locked in each other’s arms, and then Nick loosed her a little and stood looking down into her flushed face.

“All the same,” he said musingly, “I should be angry with you. I think. I
am
angry. You could have been killed.”

“I know,” Mari said. She was trembling a little from emotion. “I am sorry.”

He turned her face up to his and kissed her fiercely. “When I saw you on that horse,” he said, releasing her as they both gasped for breath, “I was terrified. Did you fall off?”

Mari frowned. “Certainly not! How could you think that when you taught me yourself?”

He kissed her again, more gently this time. “Then I am proud of you. But even so, there will be no more Glory Girls.”

“No,” Mari said. “No more. That really was the last time.”