of her employer. It was quite possible that the marquis was a friend of Lady Sarah and that he had agreed to bring her companion to her.
Feeling relieved to have settled the thing in her mind, Eliza sat back and took out the battered copy of a book she had bought from the second-hand stall at the market. It would serve to pass the time as they traveled, for she knew they would be some days on the road. She would need to take a room at more than one inn and she would have to rely on the coachman to find a decent house that was not too expensive for her purse.
Eliza looked out of the inn window and smiled as she saw it was yet another clear fine day. They had already been three days on the road and she would be glad when they reached Bath, which should not be more than another day at the most, for they had made good time. The Marquis of Cheadle’s carriage was well sprung and the journey had been less tiresome than it might have been had she travelled on the mail coach. She had been surprised to find herself staying at the finest inns on the road; when she tentatively asked how much she owed the first morning, she was told that the Marquis of Cheadle’s groom had settled the account.
Eliza had immediately tried to settle the debt, but the groom shook his head. ‘I was given me instructions clear, miss. You wus to ‘ave all the best and he would pay for yer lodgings.’
‘Oh…’ Somewhat taken aback by this statement, she was at first at a loss for words, then, ‘I suppose my employer has settled it with the marquis.’
‘Yes, miss. I dare say you are right.’
She moved away from the window and picked up her portmanteau, which contained all she required for her immediate needs. Her trunk had already been loaded on to the carriage and they were ready to leave again.
‘How much further have we to travel?’ she asked as the groom opened the door for her.
‘If we make good time and meet no accidents, we should reach Bath before dark this night, miss.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiled at him, relieved that only one day of travelling remained. She had finished her book and the last hours of the previous day had seemed tedious. ‘You are very kind.’
‘You are welcome, miss.’ He touched his hat. ‘I hopes as it is the lady you’re working for, miss.’
‘What do you mean by that? I told you at the start, I am to be a companion to Lady Sarah Manners.’
‘Right then, miss. Nothing to worry about then. Get in and we’ll be orf.’
Sarah climbed into the carriage, feeling puzzled once more. Something in the groom’s manner had disturbed her. She wondered why she was riding in such luxury and once again a shiver of apprehension slithered down her spine. Had she been naïve in accepting the first offer she received?
For a moment she felt a frisson of fear at the nape of her neck, but then she took a hold of her nerves. She was being very foolish. It was most unlikely that any marquis would go to so much trouble to abduct a girl he had never seen. She was hardly the most beautiful girl in the world. The thought made her laugh. She had been reading too many romances!
Daniel looked across the square and saw the carriage drawn up outside the inn just as the young woman entered it. He frowned, feeling concerned as he recognised her and the crest on the carriage. What on earth was Miss Bancroft doing in the Marquis of Cheadle’s carriage? Alarm bells began to ring in his head. He recalled that she had been pleased to receive a generous offer of employment—was she being lured to a false promise? Would she join the legion of the missing?
The thought of Miss Eliza Bancroft being sold into white slavery appalled him. He could not bear to contemplate such a thing. It must not be allowed to happen. He must do something—and quickly.
Eliza must be warned that the marquis was not all he seemed. If he had charmed her into believing that she would be his lover or his mistress… no, he would not permit it.
Somehow he must prevent her from plunging into a life of shame and degradation. Yet how could he prevent her? He must go after her—but how to stop the carriage? What could he say?
An idea so reckless and foolhardy that it made him laugh for sheer mischief came to his mind. He dismissed it instantly, but it returned and he felt that he must risk it for Eliza’s sake. He was not sure if she travelled alone, but if the marquis was with her in the carriage it would be necessary to disguise himself. A grim smile touched his mouth.
If Cheadle was involved in the vile gang that he believed was behind his cousin’s death, he would find out soon enough that he had an enemy.
Eliza was brought from her reverie by a shout of alarm from the coachman and then a violent jolting as the carriage came to a sudden halt. She was thrown from her seat and for a moment landed on her knees on the floor of the carriage. Picking herself up, she was about to look out of the window when the door was opened.
‘You had best get down, miss. I hope you wasn’t hurt?’
‘No, just shaken.’ She took the coachman’s hand. ‘What happened?’ she enquired as he helped her descend. ‘Have we…?’ She was about to ask if the carriage had suffered an accident, but seeing the masked rider caught her breath. ‘What are you doing, sir?’ He had a pistol directed at coachman’s chest. ‘That thing is dangerous…’
For a moment the highwayman seemed disinclined to answer. He sat his horse, staring down at them in silence.
Eliza lifted her head, anger making her impetuous. ‘I fear you have mistaken your victim, sir. I have only a few coins in my purse—and this ring.’ She felt for the ring she had found in her mother’s sewing box. It was still on the ribbon that had been with it, hidden under her baby clothes. She took out her purse and offered both it and the ring to the highwayman. ‘Please take these and allow us to go on. I beg you, do not harm these good men—they have done nothing to hurt you.’
‘Who are you?’ the masked man asked in a gruff voice she suspected was disguised. ‘Why are you riding in the Marquis of Cheadle’s carriage—what is he to you?’
He had accepted the purse and ring, which she noticed he examined before slipping them into his coat pocket. For a moment he hesitated, then beckoned her closer.
‘Come with me for a few minutes. I wish to speak with you.’
‘Don’t you listen to him, Miss Bancroft. He is a rogue and not to be trusted,’ the coachman cried and took a step towards her, stopping as the gun pointed in his direction once more.
‘I mean you no harm.’ The masked man bent down, offering his hand, then glanced at the coachman. ‘Wait for your passenger, man, and do not try to be a hero—or you will regret it. Remember, a wild shot might harm the young lady.’ He barked the words at the coachman, his pistol still aimed in his direction. ‘If you do anything foolish, your wife will be a widow this night.’
‘Please do as he asks. I am not afraid,’ Eliza instructed.
She gave the highwayman her hand. He grasped her arm and she clutched his saddle, instinctively jumping as he hauled her up before him.
‘Well done,’ he murmured in an approving tone that sent tingles down her spine. ‘You are quite safe. I do not kill women and children.’
Eliza shivered. At first she had been terrified by the sight of a masked, armed man, but for some unaccountable reason her fear had gone as he rode with her into the trees.
They travelled only far enough to be out of sight of the coachman before he halted. He dismounted and held out his arms. She slid down into them. For a moment he held her and she was aware of the pleasant smell of soap and a breath of cologne. He was very clean for a common highwayman.
‘Well, sir,’ Eliza said, her heart beating very fast, ‘what have you to say to me that could not be said in front of the coachman?’
‘Why are you travelling in that devil’s carriage?’ he demanded. ‘Do you have any idea what kind of a man he is? Whatever promises he has made