Mary Nichols – The Captain's Mysterious Lady (страница 4)

Her escort was dead and could not be questioned now. Did that mean she was free of trouble? When she came to her senses, he would have to find out what was going on, who she was, where she came from, then restore her to her family. If she had a family. She had no means of identification on her, no luggage, no purse, nothing but the clothes she wore, now filthy and torn. He had been through Billings’s pockets, but he’d had nothing either, except a few shillings and two coach tickets, destination Highbeck. That was the name of the village he was heading for. Did that mean she was nearly home? Or was it Billings’s roost? The questions plagued him as he clopped onwards, cradling the unconscious beauty in his arms. For she was beautiful, he realised, and her skin, except where it was bruised by the accident, was smooth and creamy. Her scarf had come loose and he could see the top of her breasts peeping from her stomacher. They rose and fell with her even breathing and for the first time in an age, he felt a frisson of desire. He pulled himself together, wishing she would regain her senses, but if she did and realised where she was, she would be mortified. Would she be as frightened of him as she had been of Billings? he wondered, not liking the idea.

It was dark by the time he reached the village. A dog barked loudly from a farmhouse on his right; another answered from the churchyard on his left. He clopped on. A few cottages straggled along the road until he came to the crossroads and here there was light spilling from the open door of an inn. He reined in, slipped the strap from around his neck and called for the landlord to come to his assistance; he could not dismount until someone took his burden from him.

A man came out carrying a lantern. ‘Make haste, man,’ he told him. ‘The lady has been injured. She must be put to bed. Is there a doctor hereabouts?’

‘Not before Downham, sir. My wife will see to her.’

James gently lowered the girl so that the innkeeper could take her, then he dismounted and took her back to carry her inside.

The innkeeper’s wife hurried forwards. ‘What has happened?’

‘The coach overturned four miles back,’ James told her. ‘There’s a dead man and a dead horse. The coachman, the guard and my servant are following on foot. They will all need bruises and cuts seeing to and sustenance when they arrive, but first a room and a bed for the young lady.’

‘This way, sir.’ She led the way up a flight of stairs where she pushed open the door of a bedchamber. ‘Will this suffice?’

He looked about him. Although it was small, the room and the bed hangings were clean. ‘Yes, thank you.’

‘Do you need anything else? Hot water? Food and drink?’

‘All of those things when the lady regains her senses. Unfortunately she has been unconscious for some time and I do not even know her name.’ He put his burden on the bed.

‘My goodness, I know her,’ the lady said, peering down at the unconscious woman. ‘She used to live at Blackfen Manor, hard by here, when she was a child. I disremember her name—it was some time ago, you understand—but I know the ladies at the Manor, Miss Hardwick and Miss Matilda Hardwick.’

‘Then send for them at once. They will know what to do.’

The girl on the bed stirred and moaned and opened her eyes. ‘Where am I?’

‘At the King’s Arms in Highbeck,’ James answered. ‘You had a nasty knock on the head when the coach overturned.’

‘Coach?’

‘Yes, you were travelling on it. Don’t you remember?’

‘No. Where was I going?’

‘Coming here, I think.’

‘Why?’

‘You have kin at Blackfen Manor,’ the innkeeper’s wife put in. ‘I expect you were coming on a visit.’

‘I don’t remember.’

‘It is hardly surprising,’ James said. ‘You were knocked out.’

‘Who are you?’ she asked him.

‘Captain Drymore, at your service,’ he said. ‘I was travelling on the same coach. Now you must rest. We are going to send word to Blackfen Manor for someone to take charge of you. I will leave you in the care of our hostess and come to see you again later.’

The innkeeper’s wife accompanied him to the door. ‘Was she travelling alone?’ she asked.

‘She had an escort, but he’s dead,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t know whether to tell her that or not.’

‘We should tell the ladies when they come.’

He left her to tend to the girl’s bruises and went downstairs again to find the others had arrived and were making themselves comfortable in the parlour with a quart of ale each, while food was prepared for them. ‘What now?’ Sam asked when he joined them.

‘She is known to the innkeeper’s wife. It appears she has kin close by and someone is going to fetch them to take charge of her,’ James told him.

‘Thank the Lord for that, for a moment I thought we were going to be saddled with her.’

James realised, with a jolt, that her predicament had driven the main purpose of his journey from his mind, but it was time he began to think of it. ‘And you wouldn’t want that, would you, my friend?’

‘To be sure, it would put a spoke in the wheels. Has she got her senses back?’ Sam asked.

‘Yes and no. She is conscious, but still too dazed to know what has happened to her. No doubt the sight of her relatives will be all that’s needed.’

‘Then we go on?’

‘To Peterborough?’ James queried vaguely, his mind still half with the mystery of the girl.

‘Yes, had you forgot where we were going and why?’

‘No, I had not and I’ll thank you to mind your manners.’

‘I beg your pardon, Cap’n sir, but you must admit you can’t be worrying about that one upstairs when we are so close to success.’ Sam was almost as determined on catching those two as he was, knowing what it meant to him.

‘How do you know we are close to success?’

‘We know they were on that coach and going to Peterborough, don’t we?’

‘Just because they paid the fare to Peterborough, does not mean they meant to travel all the way there. They could have left the stage anywhere to put us off the scent again. Or they may have gone on somewhere else,’ James pointed out.

‘And they might have been held up by those two highpads. That would have delayed them, don’t you think?’

‘Very true, but in the absence of evidence to the contrary we will head for Peterborough.’

‘I took the liberty of making enquiries, Captain, and there’s a coach coming through at first light which will take us on to Downham Market. And there are connections to Peterborough.’

‘Good. We can’t do anything more here.’

After they had eaten, James went up to speak to the young lady and take his leave of her. She had swallowed a little supper, he was told, but she was still dazed. ‘She’ll be fine as ninepence when the Misses Hardwick come to take care of her,’ the innkeeper’s wife said, as they stood outside the bedchamber talking quietly.

‘You have sent word to them?’

‘Yes, but they are maiden ladies and will not venture out at this time of night. They will be here in the morning.’

‘Are you sure of that?’ He was torn between staying and leaving. It was curiosity mixed with pity and a feeling of responsibility that made him want to stay and see her safely with her kin, while the determination to find his wife’s killers and see them hanged drove him relentlessly.

‘Oh, yes, indeed. Lovely ladies they are, always pleasant, always have a kind word for everyone and they do a deal of good in the village. I reckon she must be a niece or something of the sort. It’s a mystery, though.’

‘What is?’

‘No baggage, no money, nothing, according to the coachman.’

‘I will recompense you for her food and lodging.’

‘I did not mean that, sir, indeed I did not. I am sure the Misses Hardwick will see to that. I was thinkin’ what a mystery it was.’

‘Yes, to be sure. But no doubt when the lady recovers her senses she will be able to enlighten you. In the meantime, can I leave her with you?’

‘Yes, of course. You must be anxious to continue your journey.’

‘I am.’ His mind was made up. ‘Pressing business, you understand. We shall go on the early coach, but a bed for the rest of the night will be welcome.’

‘Certainly, sir. I’ll see to it.’

He took several coins from his purse and handed them to her, enough to cover his and Sam’s stay and the young woman’s. ‘I will go in and say my farewells. I doubt I shall see her in the morning.’

He opened the door and stepped into the room. The invalid lay in the bed, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought.

‘Madam,’ he said, moving over to stand beside her. She looked small and frail in the big bed.

She turned towards him. ‘Captain Drymore. That is right, is it not? I have remembered your name correctly?’

‘Yes, that is my name. Can you tell me yours?’

A tear found its way down her cheek. ‘I must have had a really bad bang on the head, for I cannot remember it. I have been lying here, racking my brain, and it just will not come.’