Читать книгу Regency Society - Хелен Диксон, Ann Lethbridge, Хелен Диксон - Страница 110

Chapter Three

‘But that is so silly,’ Georgie said, looking mutinously at Mrs Jensen. ‘Why will you not allow me to carry that tray up to Captain Hernshaw? I have nothing else to do and I am sure you have other jobs you could be doing.’

‘The master says it is not fitting that a young lady should wait on him in his bedchamber, and I agree with him, miss.’

Georgie scowled at her and walked away, finding her way to the front parlour where she usually sat unless she joined Henderson in the servants’ hall below stairs. He had taken pity on her a few times these past days, playing cards with her to help pass the time. But he was often busy with his duties, and since Georgie had been banned from her host’s bedchamber she was feeling bored and frustrated. More than once she had considered leaving this house and setting out on her own, but the lack of funds meant she would need to walk all the way to Yorkshire, which she knew was impossible, or hitch a ride—and that was too dangerous.

‘Oh, damn him,’ Georgie muttered. She wandered round the room at a loss for something to do, and ended up standing in front of the window. As she glanced down into the street, she saw a man crossing the road towards the house and flinched back. Was he coming here? Did he know she was staying here? Surely he couldn’t?

She felt a thrill of horror as the knocker sounded. He was coming here! She opened the parlour door and listened, poised for flight and hearing the sound of Jensen’s voice as the man inquired for Captain Hernshaw.

‘I am sorry, sir,’ Jensen said. ‘Captain Hernshaw is not available at the moment. If you would like to leave your card, I shall tell him you called.’

‘Very well. You may tell your master that I shall hope to hear from him. Good day.’

‘Good morning, sir.’

Georgie crept to the top of the stairs as Jensen placed the calling card on a silver salver on the hall table. He went off to the rear of the house and she ran down the stairs, picking up the card. She read the few words printed there: Raoul Thierry of Westbury House, Thraxton Morton, Yorkshire. On the back were scrawled the words: ‘We may be of some use to each other if we could meet, Thierry.’

What could he want with Captain Hernshaw? Had he learned that Georgie was staying here? She frowned over the card and then slipped it into the pocket of the jacket she was wearing. She dare not take the risk that he would come here to meet Captain Hernshaw while she was here. She would keep the card for now and give it to Captain Hernshaw when he delivered her to her great-aunt’s house.

Georgie went quickly up to her own room. She glanced at herself in the small mirror on the dressing chest, her melting brown eyes wide and fearful. Henderson had found her some clothing that fitted her much better than Captain Hernshaw’s. She looked like a very young boy until she took her cap off, letting her luxuriant hair tumble down over her shoulders. She knew that anyone who saw her dressed this way would think her shameless. She was slender and the short buff-coloured coat covered her breasts, which would otherwise have given the game away, but when she took it off they were noticeable beneath the soft linen. It was after she had wandered into the captain’s bedroom looking like this that he had banned her from visiting him.

‘Have you lost all sense of modesty, Georgie?’ he had asked, sounding annoyed. ‘Dressed like that with your hair loose—it is too provocative and not the attire for a gentleman’s bedchamber, even if he is still as weak as a kitten.’

The look he had given her then had made Georgie blush. She had replaced her cap, but the ban had not been rescinded. She was barred from visiting him in his bedchamber and as yet he had not attempted to come out, though it was more than a week.

How much longer would he be confined to his bed? Her restlessness had increased since catching sight of the visitor that morning. She thought that Captain Hernshaw did not know him, for he had not reacted to the name when she mentioned it, though it was obvious that Raoul Thierry wanted to meet him. It was imperative that they did not meet until after Georgie had reached her great-aunt’s house!

How much longer must she stay here! If only he would lend her enough money to pay for her fare, but she knew that it was useless to ask. He was determined not to let her go alone and so she had no choice but to wait for him to recover.

Some days later, Georgie was curled in a large wing chair when the door opened and she sensed someone looking at her. She glanced up, her heart jerking as she saw Captain Hernshaw. He looked as powerful as ever, his strong shoulders clothed in a coat that fitted him closely, his breeches pale and elegant with only a slight thickening at the thigh to show that he had recently been wounded and still wore a bandage.

‘Oh, are you better?’ she said, uncurling and getting to her feet. ‘This is the best chair. Perhaps you would like to sit here?’

‘So this is where you get to,’ Richard said. She wasn’t wearing her coat and the shirt clung to her curves, making him realise that she was far from being the child he had thought her that first night. ‘Why don’t you use the parlour? It is more comfortable than this room.’

‘Mrs Jensen always lights a fire here. I didn’t like to ask her to light the parlour fire.’

‘I shall do so,’ Richard said and limped towards her. He grimaced from the pain. If Henderson had had his way, Richard would still be in bed, but he was tired of lying there when there was so much needing his attention. ‘What are you doing here? I shouldn’t have thought there was much in this room to interest you.’

‘There isn’t,’ Georgie said and pulled a face. ‘But Dora would not let me visit you.’

‘She was obeying my orders,’ Richard said. ‘You are bored. I am sorry. I had no intention of staying more than a few days for I have business elsewhere.’

‘It’s my fault,’ Georgie said, voicing thoughts even she hadn’t realised were there until now. ‘If you hadn’t taken a detour to help me, you would not have had to go out again that night.’

‘If it hadn’t happened then, it would another day,’ he said, voice and face expressionless. ‘Besides, I am on the mend now. We shall be ready to leave in a couple of days.’

‘Really?’ She discovered that she was no longer in a hurry. ‘You must take your time, sir. I should not wish your wound to break open again on my account.’

‘I heal quickly,’ Richard said. His eyes narrowed. ‘Be careful no one sees you like that, Georgina. I’m afraid your secret would not remain a secret for long if you were seen without your cap and coat.’

‘Perhaps I should cut my hair?’

‘No!’ he answered swiftly, a note of authority in his voice that made her stare at him. ‘No, it would be a shame to cut such glorious tresses. After all, this masquerade will soon be over.’ His gaze narrowed. ‘I think it best if you retain the boys’ clothes as we travel, but I will purchase a gown for you to change into before we arrive at your great-aunt’s home. You will not want to shock her by arriving dressed like that, Georgina.’

‘No, I think she would be angry.’ Georgie looked at his face, noting the tiny nerve that flicked at his temple. ‘Please, will you not call me Georgie? My aunt always used Georgina when she wished to punish me for something.’

‘Did you often deserve that she should punish you?’

‘Perhaps. I dare say I tried her patience, but my mother…’ She blinked as she felt the sharp sting of tears. ‘We were a happy family. I was given a great deal of freedom. Mama told me to remember my manners, to be kind to others and to speak my mind if I saw injustice or deceit—but always to be myself.’

Richard saw that she was emotional. ‘You must miss your parents terribly?’

‘Yes, I do.’ Georgie lifted her head. ‘Mama would have been so angry if she knew what her brother planned for me. She would never have tried to force me to marry someone I did not like. Indeed, I do not think she would have thought that man a suitable husband for her daughter.’

Richard studied her thoughtfully. ‘Just what is it you find so distasteful about Monsieur Thierry?’

Georgie shivered. ‘It is the way he looks at me… something secretive in his manner, sly. I trust nothing he says. Besides, a man who truly cared for me would not try to buy me from my uncle. He would have courted me in the proper way and taken his answer in good part.’

‘That is certainly the way of a gentleman,’ Richard replied, a faint smile on his lips. ‘But can you be certain that he used your uncle’s debts to secure you in marriage? Are you sure you heard correctly?’

‘Yes, quite certain,’ Georgie said. ‘I heard my uncle talking to my aunt. She was quite shocked and tried to persuade him that it was not right, but he told her that he had no choice. I knew that they would use every method of persuasion to try to force me to take him and so I ran away.’

‘And into more trouble!’

Georgie bit her lip. ‘You do not have to go on about it! I have learned my lesson.’

‘It is to be hoped that you have,’ Richard told her severely.

Georgie glared at him. ‘If you do not wish the trouble of taking me to my great-aunt, you could send me in a carriage with a servant.’

‘Yes, I could,’ Richard said, his eyes narrowed in thought. He was not sure why he had not arranged it while he lay confined to bed. Henderson could have secured the services of a lady’s maid and they might have travelled by post-chaise. ‘But I feel responsible for you. It would not be sensible to send you all that way when we cannot be certain of your reception. Have you thought what you will do if your great-aunt refuses to take you in?’ Georgie shook her head. ‘She is bound to be elderly and may not wish the trouble of a young woman. What will you do if she sends you back to your mother’s brother?’

‘I have no idea,’ Georgie said honestly. ‘However, once I have my money I intend to set up my own establishment.’

‘At your age? Impossible!’

‘I am nineteen,’ Georgie told him. ‘At least, I shall be in a few weeks. Besides, I have no choice if my great-aunt does not want me. She and my mother’s brother are the only relatives I have.’

Richard nodded, his expression giving nothing away. ‘Well, we must see what she has to say when we arrive. And now you may join me in the parlour.’ He offered her his arm, which she took shyly, making certain that she put no pressure on him as they walked. ‘I saw you playing chess with Henderson. You will oblige me by giving me a game. I have found it extremely tedious being tied to my bed these past days.’

‘Well, it is your own fault,’ Georgie replied, a sparkle in her eyes. ‘Had you not banned me from your chamber, I should have enjoyed spending some time entertaining you before this, sir.’

‘And what would my servants have made of that?’ Richard replied a glint in his eyes. ‘I am past thirty, miss, and you are eighteen. If it became known that you had come to my bedchamber—made regular visits—your reputation would be gone. Even now, you run the risk that your great-aunt will think you sunk below her notice.’

‘Oh…’ Georgie flushed. ‘I didn’t think of it like that, because, after all, you were not likely to get up and ravish me—and I think I could run faster than you at the moment.’

Richard heard the lilt of laughter in her voice. Had she no idea what she looked like in her breeches? She was more enticing than she could imagine! ‘You would not think it amusing if it became common knowledge. After all, you will want to go into society one day, perhaps marry? You would not want people to think you shameless?’

‘No…’ She blushed and hung her head. It hurt to know that he thought her shameless. ‘Please do not scold me. I know that my behaviour has been reckless. I have been trying not to think of the consequences, for I cannot change things now—can I?’

‘No,’ Richard agreed. Glancing at her face, he saw the sparkle of tears. ‘Well, do not turn missish on me now, Georgie. No tears! We are in this scrape together and we must brush through it as best we can. No more talk of going off alone. I shall escort you to your great-aunt and see you settled. Besides, I find my business takes me in that direction and it is possible that I may kill two birds with one stone.’

‘May I ask the nature of your business in Yorkshire, sir?’

‘No, you may not,’ Richard said and grinned as he saw a flash of annoyance in her eyes. Better she should be angry than weep! ‘It is for your own sake, miss, believe me. I am involved in something dangerous—as what happened the other night proves only too well. I am hoping that my enemy will not follow us from town. Henderson is to follow us on horseback, to keep a watch on my back, though I hope he will not be needed, at least while you are with me.’

Georgie raised her eyes to his. Her heart was racing, because the thought that he might die at the hands of an assassin was more painful than she cared to admit. ‘You almost died last time, sir. I hope that whoever it was will not try again. I should not like you to die.’

‘Would you not?’ Richard laughed softly. It was an attractive sound, his features softening as he shook his head at her. ‘Then I shall do my very best to oblige you by staying alive.’

Georgie glanced round the room she had occupied for several days now, feeling pleased that they were leaving at last. The past two days had been pleasant enough, for she had enjoyed Captain Hernshaw’s company, playing chess and cards with him in the afternoon and after dinner. She had discovered that he had a good sense of humour and took a wicked pleasure when he could beat her at either game, though she had given a good account of herself and the score was fairly even between them. She was sure that she had won fairly on the occasions when she had beaten him, for he enjoyed winning, as she did, especially when faced with a worthy opponent.

But they were leaving at last, and she knew a sense of relief, not the least of it because she had noticed Captain Hernshaw was not limping as badly as the first day he had come downstairs. She suspected that he might still have some pain, but he had said nothing of it to her and she knew that Henderson still changed his bandages regularly; she had seen the old ones brought down for burning on the kitchen fire.

As she went downstairs she saw that Captain Hernshaw was waiting. His manservant was dressed for riding, and she saw him slip a bulky pistol into the pocket of his greatcoat, which had one simple cape over the shoulders. Captain Hernshaw himself wore a coat with three capes and his waistcoat was a thing of beauty. She had not seen him dressed so finely and blinked—he was a fine figure of a man, though she still did not think him truly handsome. However, he was certainly dressed as befitted a gentleman, and, oddly, she found herself wishing that she was wearing a pretty carriage gown and bonnet rather than her youth’s clothing.

Do not be foolish, she told herself silently. He sees you as a duty, not a pleasure.

Her words were spoken only in her mind for Mrs Jensen had come to take her leave of her. ‘I wish you a safe journey and good fortune, miss,’ she said, giving her a sad, anxious look. ‘I’ve told Captain Hernshaw to look after you. You should be with your great-aunt in a day or two, Miss Georgina.’

‘Georgie,’ she said and kissed the lady’s cheek. ‘Thank you so much for looking after me, and I am sorry if I have been a trouble to you. I should like to give you a present, but I have nothing—though I shall send you something as soon as I can.’

‘There’s no need for that, miss. I don’t care what Jensen says, I don’t think you’re a bad girl and it has been a pleasure to have you.’

‘How kind you are,’ Georgie said and sniffed. She felt close to tears, but blinked them away as she felt Captain Hernshaw’s eyes on her. ‘Goodbye and thank you again.’ She nodded to Jensen as she passed, for she could see that he felt it was a good thing she was going.

‘Are you ready?’ Richard asked, giving her an odd look. ‘It won’t be long now and you’ll be with your great-aunt.’

‘Yes, thank you,’ Georgie said. She shot a shy smile at Henderson, who grinned at her and made her feel much better. ‘Are you sure you feel up to the journey, sir?’

‘I am perfectly recovered,’ Richard lied, for he still felt the pain, as he was bound to for a while yet, but no more than he could cope with at the moment. ‘Come along, then. My groom has the horses standing and I know they must be restive, for I have not driven them for a while.’

Georgie followed him out to his curricle. A young groom was holding the heads of a pair of magnificent black horses; they pawed the ground with their hooves, seemingly impatient.

‘Do you want me to drive them, sir?’ the groom asked, glancing at his master whom he knew to be just up from his sick bed. ‘They’ve got the devil in them at the moment.’

‘You can ride behind, Ned,’ Richard said, his mouth thinning with determination. ‘I’ll tell you if I need you to take over.’

‘Right you are, Captain. Just asking.’

Richard nodded. He handed Georgie into the curricle and then got up beside her, the young groom jumping up at the back. Richard’s progress was clearly hampered by the wound to his thigh, but he managed it without a wince, though Georgie saw his cheek tighten and guessed it had hurt him to do it. She wondered then if he were quite well, but decided to say nothing. His tone to the groom had been sharp and she did not wish to bring his anger down on her own head.

If he was in pain, it did not affect his handling of the superb matched pair and they were soon bowling along at a fair pace. Once or twice people walking in the street put their hand up to him, and she saw a few curious eyes turned on her, as if they were wondering who she might be. Of course they saw a young lad, not a lady, and must imagine she was Captain Hernshaw’s nephew or some such thing. She pulled her cap on tighter, making sure that it could not become dislodged by a gust of wind. She did not want any of these fashionable ladies and gentlemen realising that she was not a boy, but a young woman—especially as she had seen two ladies whom she recalled as being friends of her mother. They would think her behaviour shocking, and, she acknowledged, they would be perfectly right.

She had run away from the protection of her mother’s brother, spent two weeks living rough on the streets of London amongst thieves, prostitutes and worse, and then she had gone to the house of a gentleman she did not know, living in his house for more than a week without a proper chaperon. It was a scandalous tale and anyone hearing it without explanation would think her lost to all shame. Indeed, if it became common knowledge she would be ruined.

She would not allow any of it to weigh with her, Georgie decided. Once this journey was over she would put the memory behind her, forget she had ever met Captain Hernshaw and his servants. Yet even as she thought it she felt a pang of regret. A part of her longed to be back where she belonged, wearing pretty clothes and mixing in society, but another part of her wished that their journey might go on for much longer than two days.

* * *

In that, at least, it looked as if she might have her way, Georgie realised when they stopped later that afternoon. The journey had been delayed twice so far for Captain Hernshaw had pulled over into a quiet country lay-by about an hour after leaving the busy streets of London behind. He had given his groom the reins and sat back, allowing the youth to take over. A glance at his white face had been sufficient to tell Georgie that he had found driving more of a strain than he had imagined. After a longish stop for nuncheon at an inn, he had called a halt at just past four in the afternoon, declaring that they would stay the night at a pleasant country inn some ten miles short of the destination he had planned.

‘This is very pretty,’ she said as he gave her his hand to help her down. ‘It will not be as noisy as the posting inn you planned on using.’

‘No,’ he said, his mouth thinned and pale, as if he were holding himself on a tight rein. ‘But I cannot vouch for the beds. They do not always air them as they ought in these places.’

‘Oh, I am sure it will be quite comfortable here,’ Georgie said. ‘We must hope that they have enough rooms for us.’

‘Yes, that is a point,’ Richard said. ‘We need three, but at a pinch I could share with Henderson.’

‘Should you not find that uncomfortable?’

‘Perhaps.’ He smiled oddly. ‘But I can hardly share with you, can I? Though I might find it preferable. Ned will sleep with the horses, for he is used to it, and tells me he snores proper dreadful—his words, not mine.’

Georgie blushed and turned away, for there was something in his eyes at that moment she found strangely disturbing. It was one of the few times he had said anything that made her aware of their situation.

‘No, of course you cannot sleep in my room,’ she replied. ‘We must hope they have three rooms to let.’

Fortunately for all of them the landlord did have three rooms to offer and seemed pleased to have company. He said that his wife was preparing supper and that she would cook an extra capon or two to cater for the gentleman’s needs.

Richard thanked him for his consideration, telling him that they would be content with whatever was served. He asked Georgie if she could amuse herself for an hour or two and went straight up to his own chamber. Georgie realised that he probably needed to rest his leg and she went to her bedchamber, which was small but suited to the young lad she was supposed to be. She made herself comfortable and returned to the public rooms. She did not stop there, but went out of the back door into a garden.

It was a country inn and the host was a family man. His wife had washing blowing on a rope line in the backyard, and there were three children all under the age of eleven playing games. The eldest, a girl, had a hoop, which she was rolling along the ground by means of a stick, hitting it at just the right moment so that it continued to turn and stay upright. The smallest, a boy, was running behind her, laughing and begging for his turn, and a girl of about six was sitting on an upturned bucket nursing a rag doll.

Georgie went up to her. The child was singing a song, her face intent as she nursed her baby. ‘What is her name?’ she asked, squatting down on a bale of hay close by. ‘She is very pretty.’

‘I call her Rosie,’ the girl said with a shy smile. ‘She is my baby.’

‘I can see that she is,’ Georgie said. ‘Do you like nursing her?’

‘My name is Rose,’ the girl told her in a confiding manner. ‘Ma had a baby, but she died. I don’t want my baby to die.’

‘Oh, I am sure she won’t,’ Georgie said. ‘Not if you look after her.’

The girl stuck her thumb in her mouth and sucked it, considering for a moment or two before asking, ‘What is your name?’

‘Georgie.’

‘My brother is called George,’ the girl said. ‘He is horrid. He never wants to play with me, only Shirley.’

‘That is a shame,’ Georgie said. ‘But brothers are like that sometimes. I dare say he doesn’t mean to be horrid to you.’

‘Would you like to hold Rosie? She likes you.’

‘Yes, why not,’ Georgie said. She held out her hands for the doll, cradling it carefully as if it were a real baby. Rose got up and came to sit beside her on the straw. ‘You’re nice. I thought all boys were horrid like my brother, but you’re not.’

Georgie laughed. ‘I expect you will find that some boys are nice when you grow up,’ she said.

Something made her turn her head at that moment to look up at the inn windows. Captain Hernshaw was standing looking down at her, an odd expression in his eyes. She smiled a little uncertainly and turned back to the child. He was suffering, she was certain of it, but he would not ask for help, though perhaps he would accept it from Henderson if he really needed it. She knew a longing to go to him and offer her help, but she was certain he would send her away; he did not need her, for he had his manservant, but it was becoming increasingly clear to her that she needed him.

Richard watched Georgie for a few minutes before she became aware of him. When she was laughing she looked too pretty to be a boy and he smiled wryly as he wondered just how long they could continue with this masquerade. He had decided it was too dangerous to let her travel alone, but travelling with her had its own dangers—for him. She was too damned attractive, and the outrageous clothes she was wearing were provocative, though of course she had no idea of it.

Damn it! Why was he even letting himself think how good she would feel in his arms? He had no room in his life for a woman—not one like her, anyway. He had no wish to marry, or to form a lasting attachment for anyone, and though he would enjoy seducing Georgie, he was too much of a gentleman to do it. For her it must be marriage or nothing. But it hurt too much to lose the people you loved. A curse escaped him. He was allowing Georgie to distract his mind from the purpose in hand.

He needed to concentrate on the task ahead. He knew that the little band of plotters he sought consisted of both French and English dissidents, men who were for one reason or another at odds with the establishment. Some he had no doubt worked for money and would have been loyal to the highest bidder only for as long as it pleased them. However, this plot was taken seriously enough by those in high places for Richard to have formed an idea of the man behind it, because there had to be someone masterminding the affair. He had an idea of who that person might be, but as yet had no proof.

Whoever this person was, he was clever and he knew people—people who mattered. Richard knew that there had already been two assassination attempts, presumed to be the work of this group. One was on Wellington, who had wrestled the man to the ground, taking him prisoner, and the other on the Regent—and that had been prevented by the intervention of a lady who happened to be there and saw what might have been the end of the prince had she not acted swiftly.

Two key figures in British politics, Richard mused with a frown. Had the assassins been luckier they might already have succeeded in causing the chaos they clearly desired. He did not truly think that Georgie was mixed up in the plot, at least not knowingly—but if this man, whose name he had heard whispered too often for comfort, was the same man to whom her uncle had been bent on marrying her, it could not hurt to see her safely to her family.

Richard was angry with himself for falling so neatly into his enemy’s trap. He had been alert all the time he was carrying the papers, but, returning from his second journey of the night, he had allowed himself to relax his guard. The pain in his thigh was warning enough that he must never let his guard slip again, even for a moment.

‘Curses!’ he muttered as he sat on the side of the bed. Every movement was like having a hot knife thrust into his thigh. Henderson had warned him that it was too soon, begging him to wait another week before attempting the journey. His natural impatience had made him ignore his man’s warning, but he was paying for it now. ‘To hell with it!’

He lay back against the pillows. Rest was the only thing for it! He would not take the laudanum he knew would ease the pain, because it all too easily became addictive. Brandy would have eased him, but if he drank enough to dull the pain it would dull his wits, and his instincts were telling him that he needed to remain alert for the next few days.

Georgie had wondered if Captain Hernshaw would keep to his bed and send word that she should order a tray in her room, but he did not. He was downstairs in the private parlour at the appointed time, where Henderson, who had followed them to the inn at a discreet distance, joined them a little later.

Georgie watched the exchange between the two men. She could not hear what they were saying, but Captain Hernshaw nodded and looked pleased, so she supposed it was good news. The three of them took their places at table, and the host’s wife served them with a dinner as good or better than they might have found at the more fashionable inn they had been headed for. Roast capon, cold ham, pigeon in wine sauce and a remove of parsnips in melted butter, carrots and mashed turnip, all served with delicious gravy. She returned a little later with a large treacle tart and custard, for the young lad. This was said with a smile and a nod, which made Georgie feel she must eat a piece of the gorgeous tart, even though she was already full.

‘If you eat like that all the time, you will get fat,’ Richard remarked, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes.

‘Well, I had to eat some of it since she made it especially for me,’ she said, feeling miffed. ‘Besides, I never get fat. I take after Papa in that and he was always thin.’

Richard nodded, his expression thoughtful as he looked at her. ‘I fear I must leave you to amuse yourself this evening, Georgie. I need to rest if we are to continue our journey first thing in the morning.’

‘I’ll take a look at your wound before you retire,’ Henderson said. ‘It may have opened again.’

‘I do not think so,’ Richard replied. ‘But take a look by all means.’

‘You do not need to worry about me,’ Georgie said. ‘I shall go to my room. I would be happier with a book to read, but I dare say I shall fall asleep soon enough.’

‘Poor Georgie,’ Richard murmured. ‘I am sorry I have nothing to offer you—unless you would care for the book of poetry you discovered at my London house?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘Thank you. I should enjoy reading that—I had hoped to subscribe to it myself.’

‘Wait here and Henderson will bring it to you,’ Richard told her. ‘Had we stopped at the inn I intended to use, you would not have been safe, but this place is much quieter and I think you may stay here by the fire for a while should you wish.’

Georgie watched as he walked from the parlour, limping on his injured leg though obviously trying not to. Henderson gave her a nod and she settled down by the fire to wait for his return. They had not been gone more than a few minutes when Georgie heard the wheels of a carriage outside the inn. Something made her get up and go to the window. She glanced out at the curricle that had just arrived, giving a squeak of fear as she saw the gentleman throw his reins to a groom. She knew his face at once, for he was Monsieur Thierry—the man she had run away from her home to escape!

What was he doing here? It was a terrible mischance that he should come to this place! Georgie drew back hastily as he glanced towards the lighted window. Her mind worked feverishly. Would the host give him a room for the night? He would probably want supper, and, knowing that Captain Hernshaw had retired for the night, the host would think it acceptable if he allowed the newcomer to have the parlour.

She had to escape before he saw her! Georgie was not at all sure that her disguise was sufficient to fool a man she had met on several occasions at her uncle’s home. He must not be given the chance to recognise her!

She left the parlour and hurried up the stairs, reaching the top seconds before she heard voices below in the hall. Thierry was asking for a room for the night, but the host was telling him that his rooms were full.

‘You will at least allow me to take supper here?’ The voice of the man she disliked followed Georgie as she fled up the stairs and along the landing to her own room. Once inside, she locked the door and leaned against it, her breast heaving in a sigh of relief. Had she not glanced out of the window, he might have walked into the parlour and found her there alone.

Trembling, Georgie sat down on the edge of the bed. She would certainly not be venturing downstairs to the parlour again that night, and she would be careful in the morning. Henderson would go to look for her in the parlour, but when he saw there was a new occupant he was sure to come here to bring her the book. Georgie decided that she would tell him Monsieur Thierry was here, because it might not be coincidence. It was just possible that he had followed them here for some reason.

She guiltily remembered the calling card she had discovered at Captain Hernshaw’s house and not given him. In the morning she would have to tell him if he should mention the Frenchman by name.

Georgie spent a couple of hours reading the book Henderson brought her, but once again she found herself decoding the messages she found scribbled into the margins. She soon discovered that there was a fresh notation in one of the margins, but when she used the code to unravel it she was left with a riddle.

Where the stars and sword unite, the plotters lie in wait and plan their deadly deeds. The fox is in the hole and will not come unless you knock thrice and thrice again.

Now what on earth did that mean? Georgie stared at it for ages before closing the book. Perhaps she had made a mistake with the code? The first message had been simple to understand, for it said that there was a plot afoot to murder some important members of the government and hinted at the Head of State, who could only be the Regent. But this riddle did not make sense.

Her work had made her tired and she fell asleep with the book in her hand.

Henderson had told her that he would warn her if the Frenchman was still around in the morning, but as he did not do so she washed, dressed and went downstairs to the parlour. Both Captain Hernshaw and Henderson were there and she noted that the captain looked a little easier.

‘Did you sleep well, sir?’ she asked.

‘Yes, thank you,’ he replied. ‘I hope you were not too bored, Georgie?’

She caught something in his tone and realised he was looking at her with interest, and then she knew that he had intended her to find the code and the riddle. ‘Yes, I slept well enough, after I had finished puzzling over the book you sent me.’

Henderson stood up, saying that he would make sure the horses were ready for them in twenty minutes.

Richard’s brows lifted as his man left the parlour. ‘You found something to interest you?’

‘A riddle I could not solve,’ she said. ‘Have you changed the code or did you discover a riddle too?’

He nodded, a smile on his mouth. ‘Irritating isn’t it? As if the code were not enough, there is yet a further puzzle.’

‘You wanted to see if I got the same result as you?’ Georgie said, because she understood why he had given her the book. ‘Why didn’t you just tell me?’

‘Because I thought you would be curious enough to discover it for yourself.’

‘I was,’ she admitted and laughed. ‘One of these days I shall read the poetry instead of working on your wretched messages.’

Richard’s gaze narrowed thoughtfully. He had set her a little test and was satisfied with the result. ‘You told Henderson that Thierry was here last night. It frightened you. Did you think he had discovered you were here?’

‘I was afraid of it at first,’ Georgie confessed. ‘It seemed strange that he should come to the same inn—especially as it is not one of those most frequented by travelling gentlemen. We should not have stayed here had you not needed to rest.’

‘That is true,’ Richard agreed. ‘He may have followed us, though I do not know why—do you?’

Georgie reached into her coat pocket and brought out the calling card. ‘This was left for you in London. I saw him come to the house when I looked out of the landing window, and I hid it because I did not wish you to meet with him.’

Richard gave her a stern look. ‘Jensen told me he thought a card had gone missing. It crossed my mind that you might have taken it, but I could not think why. When did you intend giving it to me?’

‘When we reached my great-aunt’s house,’ Georgie said, feeling awkward under his interrogation. ‘I know I had no right to take it. I am sorry.’

‘You should not have done so,’ he replied, but did not seem particularly incensed. ‘It may be important that he approached me; it may mean nothing—but it is better that I know these things. Please do not hide anything from me in future.’

‘You have every right to be angry,’ Georgie said. ‘Especially if he is mixed up in this…affair.’

‘What makes you think he might be?’ Richard’s gaze became hard, intent. ‘Do you know more than you are telling me? If so, confess it now, because it will not go well with you if I discover that you are in league with him later.’

‘In league with that odious man!’ Georgie was horrified. ‘I hate him! I would rather die than have anything to do with him. I swear it on my honour…’ She saw the look in his eyes and flushed. ‘Very well, on my father’s honour—and he was a good man.’

‘Very well, I shall believe you,’ Richard said. ‘So, we have a little problem. Monsieur Thierry is possibly following us, but for the moment we do not know whether he is after you—or me.’

Georgie shuddered. ‘Do you think he might have something to do with the attack on you?’

‘If he is involved with the people I am after, he may well have done.’ Richard frowned. ‘I had not expected to be followed. I think I may have exposed you to danger, Georgie. Should I find a respectable woman to escort you to your aunt’s house and let you continue alone?’

‘No! I want to stay with you until we get there,’ Georgie said, shivering as she turned cold. ‘When I saw him last night I realised that I cannot be safe until we reach my aunt’s home. If you abandoned me, I should be anxious every moment.’

‘You are certain?’ Richard accepted it as she nodded. ‘I think perhaps you are right, though if I thought it was me he wanted…’ He shook his head, his gaze narrowing. ‘So you discovered the riddle last night—what do you think it meant?’

‘I have no idea,’ Georgie confessed. ‘I thought perhaps the first part of it referred to the place where the plotters meet, but it was so strange that I could not make it out—and the bit about the fox in the hole…’

‘Perhaps it refers to their leader?’ Richard said. ‘The fox may be a name for the ringleader, and my informant is saying that he will not leave his lair until the right moment.’

‘Why did he not just say so?’ Georgie demanded, exasperated. ‘It makes no sense to get a message to you and then not say straight out what you need to know.’

‘I agree with you,’ Richard said. ‘Of course, had it fallen into the wrong hands it would have been safer. It may be that my informant is a member of the group who wishes to lay information without getting caught.’

‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Georgie said, giving him an appraising look. ‘He must think that you are clever enough to work it out for yourself.’

‘Yes, perhaps,’ Richard said. ‘Or it might have been sent to mislead…if my informant had been turned or…’

‘Or murdered?’ Georgie felt cold all over. ‘Do you think that the first message was genuine and this one was false?’

‘I think that may be the case,’ Richard said. ‘Whoever is behind this needs time to complete his plans. He is afraid that I may have more clues than I actually do and he sent this message to lead me on a false trail.’

‘To force you to waste time trying to work out something that means nothing—is, in fact, nonsense?’

‘Yes, it could be that,’ Richard agreed, smiling oddly at her. ‘You are an intelligent girl, Georgie. Talking to you has made me see that I could have wasted a lot of precious time. I wondered when I was told the location for the meeting that night. I believe the attack on me was meant to happen only after I had delivered the new message to colleagues—because I am not the only one involved in this affair.’

‘So he wished to confuse you all,’ Georgie said. ‘Had you died in the attack, you would have been one less for him to deal with, but he knew you were not working alone.’

‘I am not alone, but perhaps I have some information others do not,’ Richard said. ‘The trouble is, if I have it, I do not know what it is…unless it is a name.’

‘Raoul Thierry,’ Georgie said, looking at him intently as a suspicion came to her. ‘You’ve heard his name before. You suspect him of being involved, do you not?’

‘Perhaps,’ Richard said. ‘His name has been mentioned by several people as being suspect, but I have no proof. We should go. Henderson will have the horses ready and my groom will be waiting for us.’

‘No, not yet,’ Georgie said. She looked angry, two spots of red colour in her cheeks. ‘You made me wait until you could travel because you thought I might be involved in this horrid affair, didn’t you?’

‘It crossed my mind,’ Richard admitted. ‘You did try to steal from me, Georgie. That package was important—or I thought it was at the time, though if it were a hoax he would not have sent you to steal it.’

‘No one sent me to steal it,’ she said indignantly. ‘I would never do such a thing!’ She blushed as she met his mocking stare. ‘Well, only if I was terribly hungry, which I was—and I didn’t know what it was!’

‘No, I am certain you did not,’ Richard said and laughed softly in his throat. She was magnificent when she was angry! Despite his determination to stay aloof, she was gradually worming her way under his defences. ‘Do not look so outraged, Georgie. I have acquitted you of all malice. You only stole from me because you were hungry, so naturally that makes you blameless.’

‘Oh…’ She threw him a wrathful glare. ‘Well, if you had ever been as hungry as I was, you might have done the same!’

‘I have been and I did—when in Spain with the army,’ he said. ‘Forgive me. I could not resist teasing you. You are very pretty when you are angry, you know.’

‘Please do not!’ Georgie said. His smile was teasing but she knew he must think her a ridiculous scamp. ‘I know I must look awful, not at all respectable.’

‘Well, there is that,’ he agreed, a sparkle in the depths of his teasing eyes. ‘But I must say that I find your disguise rather attractive—though of course I deplore the behaviour that brought you to this masquerade.’

Georgie understood that he was teasing her. She had finished eating her bread and ham and got up, walking out into the yard with dignity. He deserved that she should ignore him for the rest of the journey!