Читать книгу The Mysterious Lord Marlowe - Anne Herries, Anne Herries - Страница 8

They seemed to have been riding for hours. Jane was beginning to think she was in some kind of mad dream that would never end when George at last brought his horse to a standstill and helped her to dismount.

‘Where are we?’ she asked, glancing towards the house, which looked silent and dark in the gloom of night. ‘Who lives here?’

‘No one at present,’ George replied. ‘It belonged to a relative of mine and has recently been left to me in a will. I have been meaning to visit and have it set in order.’

‘Are there any servants?’ she enquired in a dubious tone that made her companion look at her.

‘No, I fear not,’ George answered. ‘I know it is asking a great deal—but you have to trust me, Jane.’

‘You do realise that if I stay in an empty house with you for even an hour or so my reputation could be ruined?’

‘Yes, I know that it is a risk, but I really think we both need some rest. I have food. I dare say I can get a fire going and we shall find somewhere to curl up and sleep. I promise you are quite safe with me, Miss Blair—and no one need know the details. In the morning I shall take you somewhere more suitable—at least, to a place where you can be chaperoned.’

‘I really have no choice,’ Jane admitted ruefully. When she reflected on her capture, she realised that she had been compromised from the beginning. While most would sympathise, others would think her at fault for her reckless behaviour. ‘My ankle is throbbing and I shall fall asleep in the saddle if we go any farther tonight.’

‘Exactly.’ George smiled at her in a way that calmed her fears. ‘Truly, I mean you no harm, Miss Blair—and I shall endeavour to get us both out of this mess.’

‘I prefer it when you call me Jane,’ she said.

‘Our situation makes formality ridiculous. I have no choice but to call you by your name or sir. In the circumstances I think we should forget convention. Since we are forced into each other’s company, I suppose we must make the best of things.’

‘How sensible you are. I have seldom met a lady with your strength of character, Jane. Most of the ladies I know would have screamed or fainted given the situation you found yourself in.’

‘You need not tell me that I am too independent for modesty’s sake. It has been said before and not so politely.’ Jane laughed softly. ‘Had I been so faint-hearted I might never have been abducted. I dare say my brother will scold me for being reckless and thoughtless—and I believe I may owe you my life. The loss of my reputation can be nothing compared to what might have been.’

He inclined his head to her, applauding her courage. ‘Just so—now we should turn our minds to gaining entrance. I think I may have to break a window and climb through. You must wait here. I shall open a door and save you the indignity of clambering over the sill.’

Jane studied the small leaded windows. ‘Are there no French windows? I fear these windows would scarcely open wide enough for a man of your size.’

‘Yes, there is such a window at the rear. That is an excellent notion, Jane. Much better than a window, through which I might find it difficult to fit.’

‘I do not think you would make a competent burglar,’ Jane said, her humour asserting itself as she followed him to the rear of the house. There was no use in repining or complaining. They found the glass doors, which led out to the pretty and secluded garden. George stood looking at it for a moment, seemingly in deep thought. ‘What will you use to break the window? Or had you not thought so far?’

‘There you wrong me. I was merely remembering some good times I had here as a boy. It seems sacrilege to disturb the place, but it must be done.’ George took a pistol from his coat pocket, and turning the handle against the glass, gave it a sharp rap. It shattered at once. He pushed the jagged glass in and put his hand through the opening. Finding the catch which secured it, he was able to open the door.

‘I shall go first and light a candle,’ George said. ‘Be careful for there is broken glass. I do not wish you to stumble in the dark and hurt yourself.’

Jane hesitated just inside the door, allowing him time to explore. A few seconds passed and she heard him strike a tinder and then light flared in the darkness. He lit a branch of wax candles, the yellow glow illuminating the pretty if neglected parlour in which she now stood. She looked about her with interest, noting the delicate furniture, workbasket, spinet and the French cabinets filled with porcelain figurines.

‘This parlour must have belonged to a lady.’

‘Yes, it did—an elderly lady. She was my great-aunt and more than ninety years of age when she died.’

‘I hope she would not mind us breaking in?’

‘I should imagine she might find it exciting. I believe she was rather a dashing lady in her youth. She took a shine to me because I was considered a bruising rider to hounds as a youngster—and she was fond of hunting herself.’

‘A lady after my own heart, though it is the thrill of the chase I love. I usually leave the field before the kill.’

‘Aunt Augusta would not have approved of that,’ he said and smiled. ‘However, I seldom hunt these days. I saw enough death and killing in the army. I have no desire for more.’

‘Yet you joined forces with a dangerous man to help abduct an innocent young woman.’ Her tone was accusing and made him look at her.

‘I have no excuse I may give other than that I have already offered. I believed I was helping to provide the illusion of an abduction. Until she struggled so desperately I hoped the lady was willing, as I had been led to believe.’

‘Yes, so you told me.’ Jane frowned as he led the way from the small parlour into another larger one, then into a hall, through several more reception rooms and finally a large kitchen at the rear. It was still painful for her to walk, though a little easier than it had been when he found her in the hut. ‘I find it hard to believe that you were duped, sir. I would not take you for a fool.’

‘I had my reasons.’

Jane glanced at the grim set of his mouth and said no more on the subject. It would not do to antagonise him at this point. She must never forget that Mariah was in danger and this man was perhaps her only chance of finding her friend.

‘I think the fireplace in the larger parlour was set with wood and paper,’ she said. ‘It would be more relaxing than the kitchen for there are some comfortable chairs.’

‘I thought we might find some wine here …’ George disappeared into what looked like a storeroom. Jane heard him rummaging around for a moment or two. He emerged triumphant with a bottle of red wine. ‘There are several bottles here, though most must be in the cellar, but I have no intention of going there at this hour.’

Jane found another branch of candles and lit them from his. Her ankle was throbbing and she sat down at the table, trying not to show how weary she felt.

‘Shall we explore further or settle on the parlour?’

‘I think the beds must need airing. It is more than a year since the house was closed. My lawyers thought it best while I was in the army. I believe a caretaker comes in now and then, but I doubt the bedding is fit to use.’

‘We shall do better in a comfortable chair,’ Jane said. ‘If you are agreeable, I shall light the fire in the parlour.’

‘I shall do that for you. We should eat and then I will look at your ankle. I think cold water and a bandage—which should be in the dresser if all is as it was.’ He went to the dresser and took out a tin, opening it to extract a roll of linen. ‘My aunt was always prepared. I think I must fetch water from the well.’

‘I will wait for you in the parlour.’

‘Forgive me, your ankle still pains you. Go and sit down. I will bring food and the bandage in a moment or two.’

Jane took the candles she had lit and retraced her steps to the large parlour. She lit several more and then touched a flame to the fire. It flared almost at once, which meant the wood and paper had kept dry despite the house being closed for so long. The house was clearly not damp and must be well built.

Her situation was improved despite the impropriety of it all. George seemed to mean her no harm and for the moment she must trust him, though it irked her to be at the mercy of a rogue. She was used to being independent and using her own judgement, and this need of a stranger’s help was both uncomfortable and annoying.

Seeing the elegant day bed, Jane settled back on the cushions and rested her foot in front of her. With the candles and the fire, which was now burning strongly, it was pleasant and comfortable. She put her head back and closed her eyes, quickly falling asleep.

Returning to the parlour some minutes later, George stood looking at Jane, feeling disinclined to disturb her. Yet the bread and cheese he had brought with him was on the plates he had found in the kitchen, the wine poured into glasses—and her ankle would do better if he bound it.

‘Forgive me, Miss … Jane,’ he said and touched her shoulder.

Jane woke with a little start, giving a cry of alarm. Then, seeing him standing there, a tray of food placed carefully on the occasional table by her side, and the linen bandaging in his hand, she smiled. The smile came from within and lit up her eyes. She had such calm grey eyes and her dark, almost ebony hair had fallen into tangles where it had escaped from the knot at the nape of her neck. She was not beautiful in a conventional sense, but had a face filled with character and warmth.

‘It is you,’ she said. ‘For a moment I Thought … How thoughtless of me to fall asleep. You must be wanting your supper.’

George’s heart caught when she smiled. She was an attractive girl, but he had not thought her more until that moment. He wondered that she wore such dull colours and scraped her hair back in an unflattering style when she could make so much more of herself if she chose.

‘I was thinking of you, Jane. Your ankle needs a cold compress and ought to be bound tightly to take down the swelling.’

‘Yes, I am sure that would help. I feared it might be broken, but the pain has eased a little, which means, I think, that it is merely a sprain.’

He knelt on the floor beside her and ran gentle, sensitive fingers over her ankle, then inclined his head.

‘I believe it is as you say, Jane. Nevertheless, it will help to have a cold compress and bandaging for a while. We shall not stay here long tomorrow, so it will be better for you if your ankle is easier.’

George worked steadily, applying the cold pack he had prepared with water drawn from the deep well. He bound her ankle tightly, knowing that it would strengthen it for her, making it easier to walk. She drew a sharp breath once and he apologised for hurting her, but she shook her head. He finished his work as quickly as possible.

‘If you are still in pain, I will bind the ankle again in the morning,’ he said. ‘Can you eat something? The wine is soft and fruity, not too strong—will you try a little before I leave you to sleep?’

‘Where will you go? The room is warm now and you could stretch out in two chairs.’

‘Are you sure you wish for that? I thought you might prefer to be alone?’

‘We broke in here and the door is vulnerable. If Blake were to discover this house I would rather not face him alone.’

‘I doubt he would think of coming here.’ George frowned. ‘Though it is possible that he might know it was left to me, I suppose. Someone may have told him.’

‘Then please remain here. I prefer your presence to Captain Blake’s.’

‘Yes, I think I shall. You may rest assured that if he attacked you I should shoot him.’

‘Is that why you have brought the pistol?’

‘Like most military men I am accustomed to travelling with a loaded pistol. I know others do it, too, but I am a keen shot. Believe me—my hand would not tremble if the need arose.’

‘You fought with Wellington?’

‘Yes, for many years—on the Spanish Peninsula and elsewhere.’

‘I see.’ Jane looked at him thoughtfully. ‘I believe I shall sleep more easily for knowing that, sir.’

‘You have my word that I shall protect you with my life. More than that I cannot promise. Blake is a ruthless devil and has several rogues working for him that think nothing of murder. Had I not known that he might kill us all, I should have prevented the abduction as soon as I realised that he had lied about the lady’s willingness to be taken.’

‘Even though he has something important that belongs to you?’

‘Yes, of course.’ George inclined his head. ‘Had it been within my power. As it was not, I decided to do what I could for you.’

‘What of the other victim in this affair? Lady Fanshawe is a dear friend of mine and I fear for her safety. Can you not help her?’

‘For the moment I can do nothing, but I shall try to discover her whereabouts. For that reason I have allowed Blake to go on thinking he has my reluctant loyalty.’

‘Every moment we delay, her situation becomes more desperate.’

‘You should not fear that her life is in immediate danger. Blake wants her alive until he has her fortune safe in his hands. If she died before he persuades her to wed him, he would lose what he truly wants—though he swears he cares for her and she for him. Were I not sure that he means her no harm for the moment, I should have gone to the authorities immediately. I am in part to blame for her predicament and shall do what I can to help her.’

‘Do you believe Blake when he says he cares for her?’

‘Not any longer. Yet I think she is safe enough for the time being—at least, her life is not at risk. More than that is not within my power to judge.’

‘He may allow her to live, but she may lose everything else,’ Jane reminded him. ‘Abduction and the forceful seduction of an innocent lady is a wicked crime. Rogues who participate in such crimes deserve to hang.’

A little nerve flicked at George’s temple. Yet his expression was strictly controlled, giving no hint of his state of mind.

‘I cannot deny it. Nor do I deny that I played a part in this heinous affair. I wish it were otherwise—though had I not agreed to help him, he would have employed some other rogue. I should not then have been in a position to help you—or her.’

Jane silently acknowledged the truth of his words as she ate her food and swallowed a few mouthfuls of wine. She undoubtedly owed the fact that she was still alive to him, for had he not found her in the hut and then denied it to his companions, Blake might have come himself. She might already be lying dead somewhere. Putting the wineglass down still half-full, she sighed and leaned back to rest her head on the comfortable cushions. She was inclined to believe George when he said he regretted taking part in the abduction of Mariah Fanshawe, but that did not excuse his conduct. Whatever the hold Blake had over him, he should not have sunk to that vile creature’s level.

Within a few minutes of finishing her wine, Jane had once again fallen asleep. Watching her, George felt oddly protective. He bent to place another log on the fire. It was most unlikely that Blake would come here, but he would wedge something heavy against the French windows they had broken to enter. He would try not to sleep, though he knew he was tired and might not be able to keep guard throughout the night despite his best intentions.

George was thoughtful as he went off to make sure that the house was as secure as he could make it. Jane Blair—if that was her true name—was a remarkable young woman. He thought that if he had met her in other circumstances he might not have noticed her, for he was more usually attracted to ladies with pale hair and blue eyes. There had once been a lady with beautiful azure eyes who had stolen, then broken his heart. It was because of Marianne that he had run off and joined the army, wanting release from the pain she had caused. However, he had quickly forgotten her in the heat of battle, the sight of fallen comrades driving what he now realised was a mere fancy from his mind.

George was not now the same feckless daredevil he had been in his youth. Had Marianne accepted his proposal he would probably have broken her heart a dozen times. He had not been ready for marriage and Marianne in her wisdom had known it. Now, having seen too much fighting and too much pain, he had returned to England to settle down, perhaps here at the estate that his great-aunt had left him. His own father had had no other son and George had inherited the greater part of his estate, which was not large, and part of which had gone to the sister he adored. He was not the richest man in England, but his great-aunt’s estate had given him the money he needed to retire from the army and build a new life in England. Having a true interest in wine, he was contemplating setting up a business to import fine vintages from Spain and Portugal.

Thinking of his sister, George’s brow furrowed. It was because of Verity that he was in this predicament, hiding from a man George despised and disliked. Blake had some letters and personal effects that belonged to Verity and she had begged George to recover them for her.

Blake was still withholding Verity’s property, refusing to give George what he had promised. He was not sure what he could do about his sister’s problem. Unless he took desperate measures and broke into the rogue’s house.

It was perhaps what he should have done at the beginning, George acknowledged to himself. The one thing he ought not to have done was to let Blake blackmail him into helping with his evil plans. He was not even sure why Blake had wanted him involved—unless he’d thought to gain a hold over George, too, which in part he had for he was now guilty of a heinous crime. Yet had he not agreed, Jane might even now be dead—and the abduction would have gone ahead anyway. At least now there was a chance that he could help one, or perhaps both, of the ladies.

He was determined that nothing should happen to Jane Blair. Her bravery in escaping and the way she faced having to stay with a man she did not know in an empty house made him admire her. Verity would have been in hysterics by now. Jane was an exceptional young woman and he would protect her with his life.

Jane was woken by the smell of coffee and bacon frying. She blinked hard, easing her stiff shoulders as she looked for the source of the delicious aroma. Seeing the tray of hot food on the table beside her, she glanced up at the man who had provided the feast.

‘How did you find these?’ she asked as he poured the steaming liquid into two delicate porcelain cups. ‘Bacon, eggs, fresh bread—and coffee?’

‘The caretaker, Mrs Muffet, saw candles here last evening. She came to investigate at first light. I explained that I had come down from London to look at the house and she insisted on fetching food from her cottage and cooking it for us.’

‘You told her I was here? What does she know?’

‘I told her I had a friend with me. She did not come in here and does not know that my friend is a lady. I allowed her to think you were a gentleman.’

‘Thank you.’ Jane accepted the coffee from his hand. ‘It was very good of Mrs Muffet to provide these things for us.’

‘She intends to return later today and make the house habitable. I have asked that fires should be lit in all the rooms and the linen aired.’

‘You are not intending to stay here? Impossible!’ Jane took a sip of the hot strong beverage to calm her nerves. ‘At least, I cannot stay here. Perhaps you would lend me your horse and allow me to go on alone? I will engage to return it here once I am home.’

‘I dare not let you leave alone. You would be prey to all manner of evils, a young woman travelling alone with not even a groom to protect her.’

‘I believe I am capable of riding a few miles to my home—if you would set me in the right direction.’ Jane’s head came up for she needed no one to protect her. ‘I am not one of your missish young ladies who faints at the merest provocation.’

‘I am perfectly certain you are not, Jane. I wish that I could deliver you to your home,’ George said, his brow furrowed. ‘I have been thinking and I believe I have come up with a solution, which you may find acceptable for a few days.’

Jane arched her brows at him. ‘Short of stealing your horse and riding off, I have little choice but to listen to your proposal, sir. My ankle is a little easier this morning, but I do not think I could walk far—and I have no money to hire a carriage.’

‘I am aware of my duty to care for you. Will you allow me to take you to the home of a lady I trust? She was my nurse when I was a boy and stayed with us until she retired when I joined the army. I think you should be safe with her until I can be certain Blake is out of the country—or in prison.’

‘In prison? Do you intend to go to the magistrate, then?’

George handed her a plate of crisp bacon and scrambled eggs, also a two-pronged fork. ‘You should eat some of this excellent food. Please, do not look at me so, Miss Blair. I know that I deserve your censure, but you do not understand my predicament.’

‘I realise that Captain Blake has some hold over you, but that does not excuse your behaviour. No decent man would assist in the abduction of an innocent young woman.’ Seeing the little nerve flicking at his temple, Jane relented. ‘Forgive me, I am not ungrateful for all you have done for me, sir. It is just that I am concerned for my friend.’

‘As I am,’ George replied. ‘You have no need to remind me of my responsibility. Firstly, I must see you safe, Miss Blair—and then I shall do what I can to find Lady Fanshawe.’

Jane was on thorns. Her independent nature made her wish to escape by whatever means she could. Yet she sensed that George meant to do what he could to help her—and if she ran away now she would have no clue to give her friends. If she could just discover something about Captain Blake, her friends might be able to find and rescue Mariah.

‘You give me your word that you will try to find her? And you will see that Blake pays for his wickedness?’

‘I promise that I shall do what I can, but I am not at liberty to go to the magistrates immediately.’

George reached across the table, laying his hand on hers. It was a simple gesture, but something in his manner made her decide that he was honest and meant to do what he could for both her and Mariah.

‘Then I shall seriously consider what you’ve said, sir.’

‘Good.’ His smile lit up his face and for a moment Jane’s heart caught. ‘You are a brave and sensible lady, Jane.’

Jane ate some of the bacon and egg, then finished her coffee. Her thoughts were confused, but she was trying to make sense of what she knew to be a precarious situation. If Captain Blake was as ruthless as she believed, she could hardly demand that this man risk his own life more than he already had for her sake.

‘I know that you have risked your life for mine, sir—and I believe you are doing what you think best, but I am anxious for Mariah.’

‘I understand your anxiety, but first I must make certain that you are safe—after that I shall do what I can to help your friend.’

‘I have no wish to be that evil rogue’s next victim,’ Jane replied. ‘However, I am concerned that Blake will harm Mariah. If that happened, I should not be able to live with my conscience—as you ought not.’

‘You must trust me,’ George said. ‘Your friend may be confined anywhere. Even if we managed to have Blake arrested and called out the militia to search for her, we might not find her. If she is bound or securely confined in a secluded house, she might die alone and in terrible distress. On the other hand, Blake’s interest is in keeping her alive and well until she consents to wed him.’

Jane looked at him in horror. ‘You think Blake would refuse to reveal her whereabouts if he were arrested?’

‘Why should he confess when it would hang him? At the moment it is my word against his.

Even with you as a witness it is not certain that we should be believed—and I should be reluctant to involve you for it would inevitably result in a loss of reputation for you. If Blake were to remain at liberty, my life would be at risk.’

‘And mine. I saw his eyes and he knows it.’

‘Exactly. Which is another reason why it is best if you remain hidden. Your testimony may be required to convict him since mine may not be believed, though I shall keep you out of it if I can. However, he has only to murder us both and there would be none left who dare speak against him.’

‘Yes, I see that,’ Jane agreed reluctantly. ‘So what must we do?’

‘If you will consent to remain hidden, I shall do my utmost to discover Lady Fanshawe’s whereabouts and to rescue her.’

‘Do you give me your word?’

‘You have my word, but I must be allowed to do things my way. Lady Fanshawe’s life is not the only one at risk here. If she is forced into marriage against her will, an annulment might be arranged.’

‘She would be ruined in the eyes of society.’

‘Lady Fanshawe is a victim and most will have sympathy for her. Another person’s happiness is at stake here and I have a duty to that person. I see you condemn me—but I am caught between duty and loyalty.’

Jane saw that he was deeply affected. It was a terrible coil and she found herself unable to condemn him as certainly as she had. He had become embroiled in an unpleasant affair for reasons he was not prepared to divulge. While she condemned the wicked abduction of an innocent young woman, she had begun to realise that George’s motives were compelling. He had acted out of a misguided attempt to help someone he was protecting.

‘So Blake is blackmailing you?’

‘Not me—but there is blackmail involved.’

‘Yes, I understand.’ Jane nodded. ‘I see how you were tricked into helping that rogue, but now you must do all you can to make this right.

I will stay with your nurse for a day or so, but it cannot be longer. My brother will be anxious.’

‘Perhaps I could send a letter for you—if you will give me your name? Your true name, for I do not believe you are called Jane Blair.’

‘I shall think about it,’ Jane replied. ‘If you will allow me some privacy, I shall make myself ready and then perhaps we should leave. For the moment I am content to do as you ask.’

‘Thank you.’ George hesitated, then leaned forwards to kiss her cheek. Jane moved her head inadvertently and his mouth brushed hers in the lightest of kisses. ‘Thank you for believing in me, Jane. I’ve never met such a brave and decisive lady before. Most ladies of my acquaintance would have been in floods of tears long before this.’

Jane blushed, her heart racing. How ridiculous! He’d meant only to kiss her cheek as a thank-you, but the feel of his lips on hers had sent a tingle racing through her, which was ridiculous because she had long ago given up all thought of love and marriage.

She was not the sort of woman men admired or wanted as their wives; her independence and habit of speaking her mind actually repulsed men who might otherwise have thought her a suitable match. Although not without fortune, she was plain and too outspoken to please generally.

‘Nonsense,’ she said and turned away, a flush in her cheeks. ‘Crying would change nothing. We must think of Mariah and do what is best for her.’

‘You have discovered a clue?’ Justin asked. He glanced at Andrew. ‘Pray do not keep me in suspense. Does this concern Mariah or your sister?’

‘I made some enquiries myself and discovered that the carriage used for the abduction of Mariah and Jane turned off before reaching the toll. I therefore rode across country and was able to discover that a few miles from Avonlea an unconscious lady was seen being transferred from one carriage to another. I have been told that both carriages then set off in different directions.’

‘I am not sure what this means.’

‘We believe that Mariah was indeed the intended victim.’ Justin nodded. ‘It seems to me that Mariah was taken off by one of them and several men remained with the first carriage in which Jane was taken somewhere else.’

‘Yes, that would appear to be the logical explanation. So your search has been split—a clever ruse to confuse the situation, perhaps?’

‘After employing the agent I told you of, I made a further search myself and was able to trace Mariah’s carriage to its final destination.

Indeed, I discovered it still at the property, where it had been abandoned.’

‘You have discovered one of the ladies?’

‘Unfortunately not,’ Andrew replied. ‘The house was deserted, but there were signs of it having been used recently. By the look of it no one had been there for years until one of the captives was taken there. It was because it had fallen into disuse that I was guided there by a curious bystander. He had worked up at the hall, as he called it, and knew that the old man had died. The owner had no immediate family and died intestate, which meant the land and property had been neglected while lawyers attempted to find the rightful beneficiaries.’

‘It will, of course, go to the Crown if none are found, but left to decay it will fetch little enough. What made your informant so curious?’

‘The carriage swept past him and frightened a flock of sheep he was driving into new pasture. One of them injured itself and he was angry so he went up to the house to remonstrate and saw a woman being carried into the house. He thought she was unconscious, but, apart from telling his wife, he did nothing more until he heard that I was making enquiries at the local inn. I paid him a guinea, which was recompense for the animal’s injuries and he described the carriage and one of the men he saw.’

‘But when you went to the house it was empty?’

‘I found a back door open and went in. I searched every room. One bedroom had been occupied. The bed looked as if someone had lain on it and there was a tray of food and wine. The window was unlatched. There were signs of people having been elsewhere in the house—but nothing to tell me who might have been there.’ Andrew paused and his mouth thinned. ‘However, in the bedroom, I found a reticule that belongs to my sister. She must have had it with her when they took her to the house and left it there on the floor by the bed.’

‘Then you can be certain she was in the house,’ Avonlea said. ‘Did you find blood or the signs of a struggle?’

‘No, thank God!’ Andrew rubbed at the side of his nose. ‘I saw some branches that had broken recently in a tree near the open window. I believe—I have hope that—Jane may have got out of that window and scrambled down through the tree.’

Justin stared at him in disbelief. ‘Is it possible? Would she have tried to escape that way?’

‘Yes, I am sure she would if she had the chance.’ Andrew frowned. ‘I spent some time looking in the wood near the house. I found some deep tracks—as if a horse might be carrying two people.’

‘Did they recapture her?’

‘That, too, is possible. I know that Jane would do her best to get word to me if she could.’

‘Were you not engaged on some business or other for the regiment?’

‘That business is on hold,’ Andrew said. ‘If Jane and Mariah are not found, I must leave the matter to another, because I shall not rest until I know they are safe. Just as you cannot rest until Mariah is found.’

Avonlea nodded. ‘My wife is concerned for Mariah, as I am. You have not received a ransom note?’

‘No. I am certain the rogue means to compromise Mariah, perhaps even force her into marriage for the sake of her fortune.’

‘Yet her trustees have heard nothing. I told them what had happened and they were greatly distressed. They begged me to find Mariah and see her safely wed to a decent man—and I have promised to do all I can, but Mariah has a mind of her own. Apparently, they have the power to veto a marriage if they think it unsuitable, but I was assured that if I approved the match they would not object.’

‘You do not think she agreed to this abduction to force her trustees to release her money?’

‘Mariah is inclined to be reckless, but she would not endanger a friend. Had this been a sham abduction, Mariah would simply have disappeared and a note been immediately delivered. I think the rogue that has taken her means to hold out for marriage to ensure he has the whole of her fortune.’

‘What will her trustees do if he makes such a demand?’

‘I have been asked to manage the affair to prevent a scandal. If she is forced into anything, her abductor will very soon regret it.’

‘Be careful, Justin,’ Andrew said. ‘Whoever planned this is a clever devil. He will not simply hand Mariah over. You may have to release at least a part of her fortune if you wish to see her safe.’

‘Damn it, I don’t care for the money—but the rogue deserves to hang.’

‘Yes, he does,’ Andrew agreed. ‘If I have anything to say in the matter, that is exactly what will happen—but first we have to find them.’

‘I wish you good luck,’ Justin said. ‘Lucinda is in a delicate situation, therefore I can only do so much to help in this investigation. I fear that most of the burden must fall on you, Andrew—though you may call on me if necessary.’

‘I wish Lucinda a safe confinement when the time comes and congratulate you,’ Andrew replied with none of the pain the announcement might once have caused him. ‘You should take care of her and leave this business to me. I shall call on you only if I need you.’

‘Lucinda comes first with me—but I feel responsible to Mariah in a way and will do all I can to recover her. I shall send to London for another agent to help in the search.’

‘I already have a good man on the trail, but we need as much help as we can get,’ Andrew said and his expression was both grim and determined. ‘I am fairly certain that Mariah will not be found locally. This rogue will have her somewhere secure by now. We had a chance that we might find them at an inn nearby, but too much time has elapsed now. You will, of course, let me know if you hear anything?’

‘Of course. I wish you good luck in your search for Jane,’ Avonlea said. ‘If you find her, you may also find Mariah.’

‘It is my fervent prayer that we shall find them both—though I think not together, for I am certain they were separated.’

Andrew’s face was set as he made his farewells and left Avonlea’s house. He knew that it might be impossible to find Jane. She might even be dead. Mariah was probably being kept safe in the hope of her fortune. Andrew drew some comfort from that, but his feelings were in such turmoil that he hardly knew whether he was more concerned for Mariah Fanshawe or for his sister.

Something told him Jane might have escaped her captors and if that were the case his highly independent sister might even now be on her way home.

If only that were so. He would then be able to concentrate all his efforts on finding Mariah.