Wrede, Patricia C - Mairelon 01 (12 page)

           
"Things,"
the rider said with a vague wave. He clucked to his horse, which ignored him. A
faint frown creased his forehead, and he made a tentative movement with his
heels. The bay bent its neck to eye its rider,
then
ambled over to the carriage, leaving Jack Stower standing with his fists
clenched and a black expression on his face.

           
"Henry!"
the elegant woman said in a peremptory voice as Freddy was performing this
maneuver. "If you
must
stop to speak with your friend, at least
send someone in to inquire about Jasper. At this rate, we shall never get to
Swafflton."

           
"Yes,
of course, Lady Granleigh." Henry nodded to the footman, who jumped from
his perch at the rear of the landau and came over. "See if Mr. Marston is
in, and have a note sent up to tell him we are here."

           
"Be
better to go inside," Freddy advised from his perch on the horse.
"Private parlor for the ladies.
Much
nicer than sitting out in the weather."

           
Kim
missed Henry's reply, for she had to nip sideways and flatten herself against
the wall to avoid the footman's entrance. He clumped past her without noticing,
glanced around,
then
rang loudly for the innkeeper.
Kim slipped back to the door and saw that Jack Stower had vanished. She heard
the innkeeper's footsteps at the rear of the hall and made a quick decision.
Better to have room to move than to be nabbed by Stower or the footman in the
hallway. She slid out the door like a greased eel.

           
"Very
well," the elegant woman was saying in a disapproving tone. "But I
will have the proprieties observed. Present your friend to us, Henry."

           
"My
pleasure, Lady Granleigh," Henry said in a harassed tone. "Lady
Granleigh, Miss Thornley, this is Mr. Frederick Meredith. Freddy, Lady Granleigh,
and
her
ward, Miss Marianne Thornley. They're down for
one of Mother's house parties."

           
"A
pleasure," Freddy said, bowing.

           
"Meredith,"
Lady Granleigh said pensively. "Are you by chance related to Lord Cecil
Meredith?"

           
"M'uncle,"
Freddy answered. "Stood godfather to me, or so they tell me. I don't
remember it, myself."

           
"Indeed."
Lady Granleigh's manner thawed noticeably. "Lord Cecil is a dear friend of
my husband's."

           
"What
brings you ladies out in all this muck?" Freddy asked offhandedly, though
his eyes had returned to the lovely blonde girl.

           
"Since
it is not raining, Lady Granleigh and I thought we would drive to Swafflton to
look at ribbons," the blonde girl replied in a low, musical voice.
"Mr. Bramingham was kind enough to accompany us."

           
"This
ain't one of the stops on the road to Swafflton," Freddy said in a
knowledgeable tone. "Sure Bramingham gave the coachman the right
direction?"

           
"Freddy!"
Henry said. "Don't be ridiculous."

           
"We
are here to meet my brother," Lady Granleigh said in an icy voice.

           
"Oh,
that's all right, then," Freddy said.
"Didn't know
you had one."

           
Miss
Thornley giggled. Her guardian gave her a quelling look. "Really, Mr.
Meredith--"

           
The door
of the inn flew open. "Meredith! I knew it was you," Jon Aberford
said in threatening tones.

           
"Hullo,
Jon," Freddy said mildly. "Bit of a surprise, meeting you here. I
must say, I didn't expect it."

           
"I
should think not! How do you dare show your face in public?"

           
"Because
I ain't a Turk," Freddy replied in reasonable tones.
"Why
should I care who sees it?
Perfectly good face, besides, it's the only
one I've got."

           
"Don't
play the fool!" Jon said. "Henry, do you know what this . . . this
blithering idiot has done?"

           
"No,
and I don't much care to," Henry answered frankly. "It's nothing to
do with me."

           
"Henry,
you will do me the favor of
not
presenting me to your unpleasant and
most unmannerly acquaintance," Lady Granleigh put in. "I must have
the lowest opinion of anyone who would enact a scene in so public an
arena."

           
"Ah,
but it does!" Jon said, ignoring Lady Granleigh's interjection. He
gestured at Freddy. "This
traitor
lost the Sacred Dish to you at
play. Will you return it?"

           
"Here,
now!" Freddy said.
"Got no reason to go calling
names!
Everything was quite in order; told you so last night."

           
"Sacred dish?"
Henry said, bewildered. "What
are you on about now, Jonathan? You don't mean that big silver platter, do
you?"

           
"Platter?"
Lady Granleigh said with unexpected
interest.

           
"What
have you done with it?" Jonathan demanded.

           
"If
you
are
talking about the platter, I haven't done anything with it
yet," Henry snapped in evident exasperation. "It's sitting in a
display case in the library, and it will
stay
in the display case until
Lord St. Clair arrives tomorrow. At which point I am going to present it to him
for his collection."

           
"What,
your uncle's coming?" Freddy said to Henry. "You didn't tell
me."

           
"Why
should I?" Henry retorted. "It's nothing to you."

           
"No
reason to keep it a secret, is there?" Freddy answered. "And it's
bound to be of interest. Why, m'mother will want to call if Lord St. Clair is
staying with you."

           
"Be
quiet, Freddy!" Jonathan said. "Henry, be reasonable. You can't just
give away the Sacred Dish!"

           
"Don't
see why not," Freddy said, giving the matter due consideration. "
He
isn't one of the Sons; the
thing don't
mean anything
to him.
Unless St. Clair don't arrive.
Hard to give
something to someone who ain't
there.
"

           
"Come
by
Bramingham Place
tomorrow at three and watch me," Henry invited Jonathan cordially.

           
"You
don't know what you are doing," Jon said, suddenly calm.

           
"I
know enough."

           
"Quite,"
said Freddy. He had one eye fixed on Miss Thornley, who was beginning to look
distressed. "Here, Jon, be a good fellow and come away; you're upsetting
the ladies."

           
"You
haven't heard the last of this," Jon said. With a parting glower he turned
and reentered the inn.

           
"If that isn't just like Jon!"
Freddy said.

           
"I
trust we have seen the last of him," Lady Granleigh said. "Henry, are
you quite certain that man of yours isn't carousing inside instead of
delivering your message? Jasper ought to have come out by now."

           
Henry
pressed his lips together. "I'll go and see, if you like, Lady
Granleigh."

           
"If
you do that, we'll lose you, too," Lady Granleigh said. "Send that
boy over there; he may as well be useful."

           
"Hi!
You there!"
Henry beckoned to Kim. "Pop
inside and see what's holding up Mr. Marston, there's half a guinea in it for
you."

           
"A
shilling," Lady Granleigh said sharply. "No more than a
shilling,
and not until you come back. Really, Henry, you
ought to know better."

           
Kim
muttered something that would pass for "Yes, mum," and touched her
hand to her cap. The respectful gesture might please the bracket-faced old cat,
and it would screen Kim's face from unwanted notice. Reluctantly she turned and
started for the inn.

           
Before
she reached it, the door swung open and the footman emerged, followed by a tall
man in a driving cape. Kim stepped aside without thinking, and froze as she got
a good look at his face. It was the skinny toff from the Dog and Bull who had
hired her to crack Mairelon's crib. Had all of
London
followed her to Ranton Hill?

           
"Amelia!"
the toff said. "What d'you mean by arriving at dawn like this? I'd barely
got my breakfast finished!"

           
"When
we are in the country, we keep country hours, Jasper," Lady Granleigh
replied. "I explained that to you yesterday; had I known you were going to
be obstinate, I would have postponed our expedition until tomorrow. I am sure
that Lord St. Clair would have been delighted to accompany us."

           
"Of
course he would," Freddy said gallantly. "I mean to say, lovely
ladies, pleasant company--anyone would be delighted."

           
Jasper
Marston had by this time taken his place in the coach, and Lady Granleigh had
had more than enough of Freddy, nephew of Lord Cecil Meredith or not. "It
is high time we were going," she announced. "Good day, Mr. Meredith.
Driver!"

           
The
coachman nodded and slapped the reins lightly against the horses' backs. The
team snorted and began to move; in another moment, the landau had pulled out of
the inn's yard and was on its way east to Swafflton.

           
Kim drew
a shaky breath as she watched the coach pull
away,
all
too conscious that only good luck had kept Jasper Marston from noticing her.
She wanted to run away, to hide, and she wished suddenly and passionately that
she were back in
London
, where she
might have had some chance of doing so. With both Jack Stower and the skinny
toff in Ranton Hill, it was beginning to look very much as if staying in
London
would have been safer than leaving.

           
Freddy
Meredith, who had also been watching the coach, chose this moment to turn and
see Kim.
"Hi, boy!
Get someone out here to take
this horse, will you?"

           
Glad of
the excuse, Kim nodded and went inside. The innkeeper was coming out of the
kitchen into the hallway, carrying a tray. "And where the devil have you
been, boy?" he asked when he saw Kim.

           
"Man
outside wants someone to take his horse," Kim informed him, ignoring his
question.

           
The
innkeeper rolled his eyes.
"Quality!
Well, I'll
see to it. Your master wants you, third door on the right at the top of the
stairs. Take this along with you."

           
The
stairs were narrow and steep, and Kim had some difficulty in climbing them
without dumping everything off the tray the innkeeper had handed her. She made
it to the top at last, and stood balancing the tray against the railing while
she caught her breath. Then she counted doors and kicked at the third one.

           
"Enter,"
Mairelon's voice called from inside the room.

           
"I
can't," Kim called back crossly. "You'll have to open the door
yourself."

           
She heard
a scraping sound on the other side of the door, and then Mairelon opened it.
"Kim! What are you doing with that?"

           
"The
buffer downstairs said you ordered it," Kim replied.

           
"And
was too lazy to bring it up
himself
, hmm? Good Lord,
you're white as a winding-sheet! Sit
down,
sit down,
before you fall over." Mairelon took the tray from Kim's suddenly shaking
hands and set it on the small table beside the window. Kim sank into the
nearest chair. She was cold and her legs felt like jelly; she was too stunned
even to think, though a corner of her mind marveled distantly at the strength
of her reaction.

           
"Here,"
Mairelon said, pressing a glass into her hand. "Drink this. Will you be
all right alone for a moment? I'm going to get Hunch."

           
Kim
nodded, and Mairelon left. She took a deep breath, and the feeling of being far
away from everything began to lessen. She sipped at the glass Mairelon had
handed her, and coughed as a fiery liquid ran unexpectedly down her throat.

           
The door
opened and Mairelon reentered the room. "Now, what's given you the wind
up? Did your friend from the Dog and Bull see you?"

           
"I
don't think so," Kim said. "But how did you know--"

           
"He's
staying in the next room," Mairelon said. "I could hardly help
noticing his presence, and I thought there was something familiar about his
voice. So I contrived to get a look at him as he left. If it wasn't our skinny
friend, what's upset you?"

           
"I
ain't sure," Kim said. She was feeling more like herself, and her
momentary weakness bothered her.
"I ain't never done
nothin' like that before, not even on my first crack lay."

           
"Really.
And how long has it been since you did any
housebreaking?" Mairelon asked.

           
"Couple years.
Since old Mother Tibb died, anyways.
After what happened to her, I lost the taste for it, sort of."

           
"What
happened to her?" Mairelon said very softly.

           
"The
nabbing culls got her.
Most of the others, too.
I was
lucky I got away." She took a tiny sip from the glass and closed her eyes.
"They got transported, mostly, but Mother Tibb swung because she ran
things for the lot of us."

           
"I
see."

           
"I
shouldn't
of
gone to watch. It was stupid. And after
that . . ."

           
"After
that, you didn't feel as if you could go back to housebreaking."

           
Kim shrugged.
"I never took to it much, not like some of the rest. Besides, it ain't a
good lay for a loner, and I couldn't join up with one of the other gangs
because--" She stopped short and shook her head. Why was she telling
Mairelon all this?

           
"Because
they'd have discovered that you were a girl," Mairelon finished quietly.
He was looking at her with an odd expression that she didn't have the energy to
figure out. "Was it so important to you, staying a boy?"

           
Kim
nodded wearily. "You
ain't never
seen the stews
in St. Giles, or you wouldn't need to ask. Mother Tibb kept me on a good three
years longer than most, because I had a knack for locks, but that wouldn't
of
lasted much longer. Anybody else would
of
packed me off as soon as they found out I wasn't a boy."

           
Mairelon
went still. "Drink your brandy," he said, and his voice was harsh.

           
The
brandy wasn't so bad, now that Kim knew what to expect. It was a great deal
better than the cheap gin she had sometimes bought in
London
.
She sipped it slowly, and in a few minutes more her grim mood began to lift.

           
"I
found out some things you ought to know," Kim said to end the long
silence.

           
"Wait
until Hunch gets here," Mairelon said. "No sense in going over
everything twice."

           
Fortunately,
Hunch was not long in appearing. He snorted through his mustache when he saw
Kim, which did more to make her feel herself again than even the brandy.

           
"Sit
down and stop grumphing, Hunch," Mairelon said. "I've taken separate
rooms for tonight, but we can hardly talk through the wall, and Kim says she's
found out something of interest."

           
"That's
as may be," Hunch said darkly. "But she 'adn't ought to be 'ere, and
neither should you. Someone's been asking questions down at the stable."

           
"But
it's such an interesting place," Mairelon said, waving in a general way at
the walls of the inn. "Really, Hunch, you have no idea how fascinating
this inn is."

           
"Maybe
not," Hunch said, "but I know when you're at one o' your queer
starts, Master Richard. And you 'adn't ought to, not this time. Someone's
looking for us."

           
"Oh,
really, Hunch, how can you be sure of that?"

           
" 'Ow
many people 'ave a yellow wagon with red wheels
and a painting of a man in a top 'at on the back?" Hunch countered.

           
Mairelon
frowned. "Someone's asking questions about the
wagon
?"

           
Hunch
nodded. "It's us she's looking for, right enough."

           
"She?"

           
Kim
though that Hunch was enjoying the effect his news was having, though his
expression remained dour.
"Aye.
One of them grand
ladies, they said. Offered a
meg
to anyone as 'ad news
of it, and a shilling extra if she could be sure no one else 'ad the news afore
'er."

           
"What
a good thing we left the wagon in the woods," Mairelon commented. He moved
to the window and stared down at the stable.

           
"That
ain't all, neither," Hunch said. "There was a cove nosing around,
too, 'anging about in back of the inn and be'aving oddly. The 'ostler said 'is
name was James Fenton."

           
"Fenton?"
Kim said. "There was a Mr. Fenton
in the taproom for a while; he looked like a footman or somethin'. I think he
works for that Meredith cove, the one who had that platter and lost it playin'
cards."

           
"Does
he," Mairelon said thoughtfully. "I wonder. What was he doing here,
do you know?"

           
"He
came to meet a Mr. Aberford," Kim said. "He wanted to sell him the
news about Meredith's losing the platter, only Aberford knew already."
Quickly she recounted the scene in the taproom. "When he took off, I
followed
him,
and then--" She hesitated.

           
"And
then?" Mairelon prompted.

           
"I
think maybe I ought to go back to
London
,"
Kim blurted, staring down at her hands to avoid seeing Mairelon's or Hunch's
expressions. "I'm goin' to be trouble for you if I stay."

           
"I
see," Mairelon said after a moment of silence that to Kim seemed to go on
forever. "Or rather, I don't see. Why don't you begin by telling us
exactly what happened, and then perhaps I will."

           
"It
was Jack Stower," Kim said. "He's one of Laverham's boys. I told you
about Laverham."

           
"I
remember."

           
"I
swear I don't know how he followed me from
London
,
I swear I don't. He didn't see me, but if he's pokin' about, he'll find out I'm
here for sure, and--"

           
"Slow
down and back up," Mairelon said. "Where and when did you see Stower?
In the hall?
On the stairs?"

           
"Outside,
talkin' to that Meredith cove," Kim answered. Reminded of the task she had
originally been set, she outlined the scene she had witnessed in the innyard.
"Bramingham said his uncle was comin' down tomorrow, and he was goin' to
give the platter to him as soon as he got there," she finished. "The
Meredith cull got Aberford inside, and then the toff from the Dog and Bull
turned up. He's the Friday-faced mort's brother, name of Jasper Marston. They
all drove off, and I came in."

           
Mairelon
was staring into space with a heavy frown, looking as though he had not heard a
word Kim had said for several minutes at least. "Stower, Laverham,
Fenton," he murmured.
"And a lady asking questions.
A grand lady--Lady Granleigh, perhaps?"

           
"She
acted grand enough," Kim said doubtfully.

           
"And
her brother is the unpleasant but not altogether bright gentleman who arranged
for my wagon to be broken into, thus beginning our acquaintance. And
he
obviously knows considerably more than he has any right to. Someone is playing
a very deep game. I wonder whether it's him or
her?
"

           
"I
don't see as it matters," Hunch said. "'Ooever it is, we 'adn't ought
to stay 'ere tonight."

           
"For
once, Hunch, I believe you are right," Mairelon said. Hunch's jaw dropped.
Mairelon did not notice; he was digging through the drawers in search of
something. Not finding it, he went to the door of the room and opened it.
"None of us will stay the night at the inn. Hi, landlord! Bring me up a
pen and some paper."

           
"I
thought you said we weren't stayin'," Kim said, bewildered.

           
"We
are not staying the
night.
There is no reason not to stay the afternoon;
it's a long drive to Swafflton, and the ladies will more than likely be
shopping for hours. Besides--ah, thank you, landlord."

           
The
innkeeper had arrived, carrying a scruffy-looking quill, an inkpot, and a sheet
of paper. Mairelon took them with a charming smile and shut the door in his
face. "Besides, I don't expect this to take long," he finished,
setting the implements on the table.

           
"What
are you goin' to do about Stower?" Kim asked as Mairelon made a face at
the quill, dipped it in the inkpot, and began covering the paper with flowing,
spidery letters.

           
"I
am going to do nothing whatever, for the time being at least," Mairelon
answered. He wrote another three lines and set the quill aside. "No sand?
Our landlord seems singularly unprepared for Quality clientele; can it be that
he seldom has any?" He picked the page up by one corner and waved it
through the air to dry the ink.

           
"I'd
better go back to
London
,
then," Kim said.

           
"You
will do no such thing. Hunch is the one who is going to
London
.
He'll be quite all right; this Laverham fellow isn't looking for him." He
folded the note and handed it to Hunch, who scowled and chewed absently on one
end of his mustache. "Hire a horse and change whenever you have to. I
don't want any more time wasted. Give this to Shoreham and tell him what we've
found out so far. I've asked him to learn what he can about Laverham, Marston,
Stower, and Fenton; stay til he has an answer to send. He'll be quicker about
it if he knows you're waiting."