Mary Nichols

The Reluctant Escort


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Very big men, they were, and masked. I hid in the trees until it was safe to proceed.’

      ‘Which direction did the robbers take?’

      ‘To the coast, I think.’

      The landlord sent a boy off to fetch a constable and there was talk of sending for the runners from London, but it was decided that by the time they arrived the highwaymen would be long gone. Doubtless Sir John would report the incident when the coach arrived in Cromer and constables sent from there to help search for the robbers.

      In the middle of this discussion, Duncan strolled into the inn and sat down opposite Molly. He was dressed in soft buckskin breeches, a brown coat and a yellow and brown checked waistcoat. His boots and white neckcloth were pristine. She surmised that he could not have ridden very far, for the roads were dusty and there wasn’t a speck of it on him.

      ‘You have missed all the excitement,’ she told him. ‘The Cromer coach has been held up. They are even now sending for the watch.’

      ‘Is that so?’ He affected little interest. ‘I’m devilish hungry. Have you finished with that?’ He pointed to a tureen of vegetables and a platter containing pork chops.

      ‘Yes. Please help yourself. You will be paying for it, after all. I have no money.’

      ‘Dear me! Not even for the coach fare?’

      ‘No. I did not think I would need money. I was on horseback.’

      ‘And what would you have done if I had not returned?’ he asked, piling a plate with food. ‘I could simply have ridden off and left you. The landlord would not have been pleased when he discovered you could not pay for what you had eaten.’

      ‘He assured me you had said you would be back. I had no reason to doubt you.’

      ‘No reason not to doubt me either. You are too trusting, my dear.’

      ‘But you did come back, so I was right.’

      ‘Tell me,’ he said, tucking into the chops. ‘What did you intend when you followed me last night? Not a journey to London, I’ll wager, or you would have come better prepared.’

      ‘No, I saw you leave and was curious as to why you travelled by night, that was all. I wanted to see where you were going. And riding in the dark is something I never tried before and I like doing new things. I did not think of Mama, until we started to talk about her. And then it seemed the very thing to join her in London.’ She sighed. ‘And you left me asleep, so I missed my adventure.’

      ‘Adventure?’

      ‘Yes, being held up by highwaymen. Do you suppose they stole a kiss from the ladies? But I collect the man said they took nothing from the ladies, only from Sir John Partridge.’

      ‘What man?’ Duncan tried not to let his real interest show.

      ‘The man who saw it all. I think he must be a little nervous and not at all heroic, for he said he hid and only rode on when it was all over.’

      ‘What else did he say?’

      ‘There were two of them, heavily armed, and afterwards they rode towards the coast. Everyone seems to think they had a boat waiting for them and are long gone.’

      ‘Very likely,’ he said, allowing himself to relax. ‘Now, what are we to do about you?’

      ‘The landlord says the next Cromer coach is not until tomorrow. We shall have to ride back.’

      ‘We, Miss Martineau? I cannot spare the time escorting a chit about the countryside; I should have been on my way long ago…’

      Before he could go on, they were interrupted by the arrival of the local constable, who had come to take charge of the investigation into the robbery. He began by questioning the witness whose tale lost nothing in repetition. In fact, it gained a detail or two. The chief of the highwaymen was of a dark countenance, dressed all in black, and he rode a big black horse with a white flash on its nose. His accomplice was older and smaller by six inches and had a scar near his left eye, though it could not all be seen on account of the mask he wore.

      Molly had pricked up her ears when she’d heard the description of the horse. She had ridden on the back of such a one not five hours since but, she told herself severely, there must be many black horses with white noses and many men with dark looks. She glanced across at the Captain who was placidly eating and told herself she was imagining things. To have arrived back in the inn so soon after the hold-up, he would, like the man who had witnessed it, have had to ride hard, but he was completely unruffled and showed every evidence of a leisurely toilette.

      She noticed Duncan lift his head as another man came in. Did she imagine he nodded towards Duncan before passing through the room and out of the door towards the stairs? What was unmistakable was the scar on his face.

      ‘Captain,’ she whispered, reaching across and touching his hand to attract his attention. ‘That man who just went out. He had a scar…’

      ‘So have a great many men, I should think,’ he said, without even bothering to look up from his meal.

      ‘But one of the robbers…’

      ‘Miss Martineau, you must learn to curb your imagination, you know, or you will land yourself in more trouble than a little.’

      ‘You know him, don’t you?’

      ‘Miss Mar…’ He stopped short when the bulk of the constable loomed over them.

      ‘Sir, may I ask what you know of this matter?’ he asked. ‘I am told you have recently arrived and from a northerly direction.’

      ‘If by recent you mean five hours or thereabouts,’ Duncan said laconically, ‘then I suppose you could say I have.’

      ‘Hours, you say? I was told you entered the room but fifteen minutes ago.’

      ‘So I did. From my bedroom. My man will vouch for me. He is even now packing for our departure.’

      ‘It is quite true,’ Molly said, turning her ingenuous smile upon the constable. ‘I, too, can vouch for the Captain’s whereabouts, though I own he did leave me for twenty minutes or so. He had to arrange transport for us.’

      ‘Twenty minutes? No more?’

      ‘Oh, no more, I do assure you.’

      ‘And who are you, miss, if I might ask?’

      ‘Why, I am Captain Stacey’s wife,’ she said, favouring the man with a dazzling smile and ignoring the sound of Duncan choking on his food. ‘Who else would I be?’

      The constable inclined his head towards Molly. ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am, but I must leave no stone unturned.’

      ‘And while you waste time turning over stones the thieves will have gone to ground.’ Duncan, who had quickly regained his scattered wits, decided he could not embarrass her by contradicting her, but it put him in a devil of a coil. He could hardly put her on a coach to Cromer and ride off in the opposite direction if they were supposed to be husband and wife travelling together. ‘Get out to the scene of the crime,’ he said in his most commanding voice. ‘Surely that is where you should begin?’

      The man bowed again and left them and Duncan called the waiter to bring a pudding; he was still hungry, he said.

      ‘Don’t you think we should go?’ Molly asked. ‘If the constable sees your horse—or the man with the scar…’

      ‘I see you have added two and two and made five,’ he said, making inroads into the plum duff which had just been set before him. ‘Have some of this; it is delicious.’

      ‘No, thank you. I am no longer hungry. And I don’t know how you can sit there and eat so calmly when you know…’

      He smiled at her. Her blue eyes were looking troubled; surely she was not worried on his account?