Читать книгу The Captain's Kidnapped Beauty - Mary Nichols, Mary Nichols - Страница 8

‘I’ve taken on some help for the men,’ Henry told his daughter as they rode home in the Gilpins’ town coach that evening. ‘He arrived in the works this afternoon and said he had heard we were without our overseer and he was looking for employment.’

‘How did he know about Joe?’

‘I’ve no idea. I expect one of the other men said something to him. I told him Joe would only be absent a few days and would then be back, but he said he understood that, but he had a wife and little ones and any work of however short duration would be a help. He had good references, so I told him he could start tomorrow, but not as an overseer. He accepted that. His name is Martin Grosswaite.’

‘We could have managed.’

‘We could, but it would be easier to have another man to help with the bodywork. We are to start a new landaulet tomorrow and we are already short-handed with Colin away sick.’ Colin was one of their carpenters and he had gone down with an infection on his lungs, brought about by the wood dust that flew everywhere on the upper floor, which was another good reason for keeping that side of the manufacture away from the painting, varnishing and upholstery.

‘Is he a wood worker?’

‘He said he could turn his hand to most things.’

‘Then I hope you do not come to regret it, Papa.’

He turned to her in surprise. ‘Now why should I do that, child?’

‘Papa, I am not a child.’

‘You are to me. You will be my child however old you grow. Still, I will try to remember not to address you thus. Now why do you think I might regret it?’

‘A strange man walked in off the street and you took him on without checking him out. That is unlike you.’

‘He had references from Sir Elliott Foster.’

‘Did you have them confirmed? They could easily be forgeries.’

‘Do you take me for a gull? I have written to Sir Elliott asking him to confirm what he has said about the man. In the meantime, I shall put him to work. I only tell you that you may not be startled when he arrives for work tomorrow. He said he would have to arrange lodgings first so he will not arrive until after noon, but he knows our normal hours of work.’

‘You know best, Papa,’ she said meekly. She knew her father was letting her know who was in charge, which was undoubtedly because she had taken over the selling of the coach to Captain Carstairs. He prided himself on his own salesmanship and besides, he was not altogether reconciled to her working in the business. She knew better than to continue arguing with him. Instead she said, ‘Are you going out this evening, Papa?’

‘I had a mind to attend the musical recital at Lady Milgrove’s. There is a young violinist who is making a name for himself and I believe he is going to play some of Handel’s music. At any rate, as one of the Foundling Hospital’s trustees, it behoves me to go. Shall you come with me?’

‘Yes, Papa, I should like that.’ She smiled and added, ‘So long as you do not call me child and so long as you do not attempt any matchmaking.’

‘Oh, I doubt there will be any eligibles at an occasion like that, fusty old men like me, I shouldn’t wonder, and aged dowagers.’

For the most part he was right; the audience seem to have arrived in pairs, married or engaged or widows with companions—all except Viscount Leinster and Captain Alexander Carstairs. The viscount was happily married and the captain ineligible in Mr Gilpin’s eyes, so Charlotte felt able to relax and enjoy the music which was very fine.

During the interval when everyone was invited to partake of refreshments, Charlotte found herself standing next to the captain in the line waiting to go to the long table in the dining room, which had been set out for guests to help themselves to a plate of the plentiful food on offer. Her father had disappeared into the library with another of the trustees and had left her to fend for herself, which was typical of him. She smiled up at Alex. ‘Good evening, Captain. I had not expected to see you again so soon.’

‘Nor I you.’ He sketched her a bow. ‘Have you enjoyed the concert so far?’

‘Indeed, yes. Of course it is not the same without Mr Handel. His loss will be keenly felt by everyone, but especially the poor orphans. He was a great benefactor.’

‘So I have heard from my friend, Viscount Leinster. You are acquainted with his lordship, I believe?’ He indicated Jonathan with a movement of his hand, which made the lace fall back over the sleeve of his dark-blue evening coat. She wondered if he always wore dark blue when everyone else seemed to favour peacock colours. Viscount Leinster, for instance, was in apricot.

She bent her knee to him. ‘Yes, we have met at Long Acre. Good evening, my lord.’

Jonathan acknowledged her with an elegant leg. ‘Your servant, Miss Gilpin. I have been telling my friend the M—’ He stopped when he saw Alex shaking his head and hastily corrected himself. ‘Captain Carstairs, that Mr Handel was a great influence in making the work of the hospital known.’

‘Yes, indeed he was. Have you ever visited the hospital, Captain?’ she asked.

‘I am afraid not. It is a pleasure still to come.’

‘You will not have time before you go to Norfolk,’ she said. ‘But perhaps when you return you will find time for a visit. Mr Hogarth’s paintings are particularly fine.’ Hogarth was another well-known benefactor of the charity and many of his paintings were on display at the hospital.

‘I shall make every effort to do so.’

‘I feel so sorry for the motherless children,’ she went on. ‘They are well looked after and given some training in an occupation when they are old enough and they seem happy, but life in an orphanage must be hard.’

‘Do you visit often?’

‘When I can. It is the babies I feel most for. Poor little things, being without a mother is so sad. I like to go and help feed them and bathe them and nurse them. I lost my mother when I was a little girl and I know what it’s like, even though I have a papa who has tried to be both mother and father to me.’

‘You have a soft heart, Miss Gilpin. I am persuaded you will make a splendid mama.’ He dug his elbow into Jonathan’s ribs when that worthy seemed unable to stifle his laughter and added, as they shuffled forwards, ‘Are you here alone?’

‘No, my father is here. I believe he has gone into the library with Lord Milgrove and another of the Coram trustees and will join me directly.’

‘In the meantime you have no one to serve you. Please allow me to help you. Would you like the chicken, or would you prefer the ham? Some green salad, perhaps? And there are love-apples, too. I wonder how they acquired that name?’

She looked hard at him, wondering whether he was teasing her, but his expression was inscrutable. ‘I have no idea.’

‘I believe they are supposed to have aphrodisiacal qualities,’ Jonathan put in. ‘But I have never put them to the test.’

They were bamming her. Charlotte felt the colour rising in her cheeks. ‘I should like the ham and the green salad,’ she said. ‘And one of those little tartlets, but I think I will give the tomatoes a miss.’

Alex noted the colour rise in her cheeks and realised suddenly that she was beautiful and for a single heartbeat he was tongue-tied, but gathered himself to put some of the food on a plate for her and helped himself to another plateful, which he carried to one of the little tables arranged about the room. Jonathan, plate piled high, joined them.

While they ate they engaged in a lively conversation about the music they had been hearing, the weather, the terrible state of the roads and the dreadful crime which was becoming more and more prevalent, especially in the capital. Pickpockets abounded, some as young as five or six who had been taught to creep under the skirts of a man’s coat and cut away his purse. They were so deft and so slippery, the victim did not know he had been robbed until he went to fetch out his purse to pay for something and by then the culprit was long gone.

‘We have to find the gang leaders,’ Jonathan said. ‘You may depend upon it they are being trained by unscrupulous men. It is not the children’s fault. If they are hungry and ragged, who can blame them when someone offers them a way out of their difficulties?’

‘Oh, I agree wholeheartedly,’ she said. ‘Something ought to be done, not to put the children in prison, but to help them keep out of it. That is why the Coram Foundling Hospital is so important— besides taking in unwanted babies, they house some of these urchins, but unfortunately there are more such children than they have room for.’

‘Arresting the men who train them in their pocket picking is equally important,’ Jonathan said.

‘Lord Leinster is one of the Piccadilly Gentlemen, as am I,’ Alex told her by way of explanation.

‘I have heard of them,’ she said, looking from one to the other. ‘I believe they investigate crimes and bring the criminals to justice. I remember reading about some coiners being apprehended through the offices of the Piccadilly Gentlemen. And wasn’t there a murderous gang of smugglers rounded up by them recently?’

‘We do what we can,’ Alex said. ‘Unfortunately we are only a small force and cannot be everywhere.’

‘Do the Bow Street Runners not work to the same end?’

‘They can arrest wrongdoers when they are brought to their notice, but they do not go out investigating crime,’ he explained. ‘Besides, they do not operate outside London unless they are sent for.’

‘There should be runners in every town and on the roads,’ Jonathan put in. ‘A national force. It is hardly possible to travel abroad in one’s own coach without being held up by highwaymen.’

‘I have heard my father say it is the common practice to have two purses,’ she said. ‘One with little in it to hand over when stopped and the other containing one’s real valuables to be well hid.’

‘I have heard that, too,’ Alex said. ‘But so, I think, have the robbers and if they suspect anything has been withheld they rip everything out of the coach to find it and often manhandle the poor travellers when they try to resist. It is sometimes more expedient to hand over one’s belongings and hope the criminals will be caught with the booty still on them.’

‘Which is a rare event,’ Jonathan put in morosely. ‘And when they are apprehended and put into prison, they somehow manage to escape.’

‘You will surmise from that,’ Alex told her, smiling, ‘that my friend is even now engaged on tracking down two escaped prisoners. They held up a coach and fatally wounded the coachman who dared to try to defend his passengers.’

‘They are dangerous men, then?’

‘Very dangerous.’

‘Then I hope you will take great care on your journey into Norfolk, Captain.’

He looked hard at her, but there was no irony in her tone and nothing in her expression to suggest she was roasting him and he accepted the advice on face value. ‘I shall do that, never fear.’

‘My father has devised a secret compartment in some of his coaches,’ she said. ‘It can only be found and opened if you know the way of it.’

‘Is there such a place in the carriage I have bought?’ Alex asked.

‘Yes, did I not show it to you? How remiss of me. Remind me to do so when you come to take delivery.’

Her father arrived at this point and seated himself at the table to join in the conversation which ranged from ideas for reducing crime to the latest news of John Wilkes’s controversial arrest on a charge of seditious libel and his subsequent release on the grounds that the arrest contravened his rights as a Member of Parliament.

‘Just because he is a Member of Parliament is not fit reason for him to escape punishment for wrongdoing,’ Charlotte said. ‘No one, high or low, should be above the law.’

‘Oh, I agree,’ Alex said, smiling at her vehemence. ‘But it is a free country and if a Member of Parliament cannot express an opinion without being arrested, then who can?’

‘There is a difference between opinion and sedition,’ Henry said.

‘Certainly there is.’

‘Papa, Lord Leinster and Captain Carstairs are members of the Piccadilly Gentleman’s Club,’ Charlotte told her father, changing the subject before the discussion could become heated. ‘Did you know that?’

‘I have heard the name somewhere, but there are so many clubs nowadays, it is difficult to remember them all. Remind me, my lord.’

He was jovial and wary at the same time and Alex was reminded of Jonathan’s assertion he was looking for a titled husband for his daughter. Jonathan was married already and he, as a mere sea captain, would never do. It was strange how that old rejection was still able to hurt, even when the last thing he had on his mind was courtship and marriage.

They were strolling homewards, he and Jonathan, picking their way along the muddy street when his friend mentioned Miss Gilpin again. ‘I was wrong and you were right, Alex. Miss Gilpin is not an antidote at all. On closer inspection, her skin has the bloom of good health and her eyes are particularly fine. She looks you straight in the eye when she speaks, almost as if daring you to contradict her. No doubt that is because of the hoydenish way she has been brought up without feminine influence.’

‘Is that so? No lady to advise her at all?’

‘I believe there was an elderly aunt, but she died some time ago and since then Miss Gilpin has had only her father for company, which is why she goes to the coachworks every day and he treats her like a son. No self-respecting mother or governess would have left her to fetch her own supper.’

‘Then it was as well we were on hand,’ Alex said laconically.

Jonathan was not yet ready to give up being a matchmaker and went on, ‘But with a little guidance, I am persuaded she would be perfectly acceptable in society.’

‘And what, pray, is your interest in the lady, Jon, and you a happily married man?’

‘I am thinking of you, my friend. You have all the attributes her father desires and she would make a fine marchioness, not to mention bringing a prodigious fortune with her.’

‘Then I wish you would not think of me. I am not looking for a wife. And please note, I do not intend to use my title, certainly not to capture a bride. I am plain Captain Alexander Carstairs and I’ll thank you not to forget it.’

Jonathan held up his hand in mock supplication. ‘Pax, my friend! I was roasting you. It is not like you to take offence so quickly.’

‘I have not taken offence. I simply wanted to make sure you understood.’

‘I am not at all sure I do, but never mind, I will say no more on the subject.’ He laughed suddenly. ‘I think I prefer the captain to the marquis in any event; the marquis is not so much fun. Do you go home or will you come to White’s for a hand or two?’

‘I mean to go home. I must be up betimes in the morning if I am to be at Long Acre at noon. I intend to be on my way half an hour later. I think I will take a short detour and call on my mother on the way. She may like to come with me to Norfolk. If the Piccadilly Gentlemen need me, James knows where to find me.’

‘Then I will bid you adieu.’ Jonathan hailed a chair, which was passing empty, and climbed inside. ‘Come back soon. London will be monstrous dull without you.’

And with that the chairmen picked up the handles and trotted off with him. Alex continued on his way, smiling a little, thinking of Jonathan’s teasing. He might have the attributes Henry Gilpin insisted upon, but one thing was certain: one spoilt daughter of a widowed father was more than enough. He would never fall into the same humiliating situation again. Neither would he use his title, which in no way altered the man he was.

‘It was a pleasant evening,’ Henry said as he and Charlotte journeyed home. ‘It raised several hundred pounds for the orphans and I was introduced to Sir Bertram Hambleton, who is desirous of bespeaking a travelling coach. I am assured by Lord Leinster that he is well able to pay for it, being heir to Viscount Beresford, who is rich as Croesus. I am to travel down to his estate in Oxfordshire to talk about his requirements. There may be more than one vehicle to manufacture. Shall you mind being left on your own?’

‘Of course not, Papa. You have done it before, many times, and the work will go on quite well in your absence. When shall you go?’

‘It has not been decided yet. In a week or two. Sir Bertram has business in town and I must wait until he is ready to return home. I will see the work started on the new landaulet for Mr Corton before I leave.’

‘Then it is as well we do have a new man starting tomorrow, if you are to be away.’

‘I am quite taken up with Sir Bertram,’ Henry went on, discounting the argument that he never did any of the practical work and had not done so for many years. Not that he couldn’t if he chose, he was fond of telling her. ‘He is young, twenty-four, I believe, and besides having good prospects, presents an altogether pleasant demeanour.’

‘Papa, are you thinking what I think you are? You promised not to matchmake.’

‘Oh, I am not matchmaking, child, simply pointing out his good points.’

‘And you said you would cease to call me child.’

‘I forgot,’ he said blandly.

The more her father sang the praises of the various titled bachelors with whom he came into contact, the more determined she was to resist his efforts to marry her off. She was not ready for marriage, was not sure she ever would be if it meant surrendering her independence and giving up her part in running the business. When she fell in love would be time enough to consider that, but not before. If she fell in love. Perhaps she never would and a marriage without love was not to be borne. The matter of a title, in her eyes, was entirely irrelevant. Why, Captain Carstairs had no title, but she was convinced that he was every inch a gentleman.

Now, why had she suddenly thought of him? Was it because she had been talking to him only two hours before? Was it because of his masterly handling of the accident earlier that day? Was it his good looks and his easy manner? He had not paid her any particular attention beyond politeness and affability, no more than Viscount Leinster had and his lordship was a happily married man.

Alex rose early, intending to ride in Hyde Park before going to Gilpin’s. He would have to leave his mount behind while he was in Norfolk and he would not have the pleasure of a gallop until he returned. Besides, Pegasus needed exercise.

The animal was well named. He carried Alex’s weight easily and covered the ground almost as if he were flying. Alex loved the exhilaration and, once in the park, eschewed the usual bridleway and let him have his head. Although early, the day promised to be warm and sunny, a beautiful day for a ride. He was galloping across the rough grass towards a stand of trees when he noticed he was not the only one out early. A lady on a magnificent bay mare was galloping across the grass. She had a wonderful seat, at one with the horse, and was evidently enjoying the ride. He pulled up to watch her, wondering how long she could keep going before the animal decided he had had enough and threw her?

It was not the animal that forced her to pull up, but a horse and tumbril which suddenly appeared out of the trees as she was passing. Alex held his breath, expecting the worst, but she showed herself to be in full control of her mount. She pulled him up with a flurry of hooves and turned angrily on the man who had been driving the vehicle and who had jumped to the ground and taken hold of her bridle. She raised her crop and brought it down sharply on the man’s hand, but he did not let go. And then another ruffian appeared and came round to the other side of her and attempted to edge her and her mount towards the cart, making the mare shy. Alex decided it behoved him to intervene.

He was riding without a sword, but he always carried a pistol in a holster on his saddle and he drew it as he approached at a gallop. He dare not fire for fear of hitting her, but the arrival of a man brandishing a gun was enough for the two men; they scrambled into the cart and urged it into a gallop. It was when he turned to go back to the rider that he realised the lady was Miss Gilpin.

He dismounted and ran to where the pale-faced lady still sat on her horse, which was standing perfectly still now.

He reached out to her and she slid from the mare and into his arms. He held her while she regained her breath, which was coming in great gasps. ‘You are safe now,’ he murmured. He could feel her heart beating hard against his chest, making him realise just how frightened she had been. She wasn’t so mannish, after all. Her closeness, the way her body seemed to fit so snuggly into his, the scent of violets on her hair, was enough to send his senses reeling. It was years since he had held a woman like that and she was stirring passions in him which he had forgotten existed.

‘Thank you,’ she said when her breathing steadied and she drew away from him to look up at him. ‘I do not know what I would have done if you had not been on hand.’

He looked down into her face, uplifted to his. Her lips were slightly parted and he was inexplicably tempted to kiss her, but thrust the temptation from him. ‘I am glad that I was,’ he said, trying to control his ragged breath enough to answer her. ‘What did they want?’

‘I don’t know.’ She was calmer now, but still pale, still in his arms. Until she moved, he would not put her from him. ‘I have nothing on me worth taking, except my horse, of course. Do you suppose that was what they wanted? Amber is a valuable beast.’

‘Perhaps,’ he agreed, careful not to wonder aloud why they would bring a cart to steal a horse from someone still riding it, when it would have been easier to take it without a rider on its back. He felt sure it was the rider they were after. ‘It was foolish of you to ride out alone. Have you no escort?’

‘No. If any of the grooms come with me, they are so fearful for me, they stop me having a good gallop. Besides, at this time of day they are busy with all the other horses. I have never come to any harm.’

‘Until now,’ he said repressively.

‘I am not hurt.’

‘You might very well have been if I had not come along. I have no doubt you could command a fair sum in ransom …’

‘Ransom! Good heavens! Is that what you think?’

‘It is a possibility—more than a possibility, I should think.’ He paused, unwilling to frighten her more than she had been already, though she appeared to have recovered her poise remarkably quickly. ‘Do you feel able to ride home?’

‘Yes.’ She stepped away from him. ‘If you would be kind enough to help me mount.’

He fetched her horse and offered his cupped hands to lift her into the saddle and put her foot in the stirrup, and then mounted Pegasus, who had been patiently cropping the dry grass. ‘Let us go, then.’

‘Captain Carstairs,’ she said, gathering up her reins. ‘I would be obliged if you did not tell my father of this incident.’

They rode side by side at a gentle walk. ‘Naturally I shall say nothing if you do not wish it, but you ought to tell him about those men yourself so that he can take suitable precautions in future. I will not always be on hand to rescue you.’

‘No, I do not expect you to be. But if I tell Papa, he will have people guarding me all the time. He might even refuse to allow me to go to the works.’

‘And that is important to you?’

‘Very important, Captain. It is my life’s work.’

‘Oh, surely not. You must have other interests.’

‘Of course I do. The orphans, for one, and I enjoy gardening and reading.’

‘What do you like to read?’

‘Everything. Scientific books, books about manufacturing and new ideas …’

‘No novels? No poetry?’

She smiled. ‘Those, too. I do not think of myself as a blue stocking, Captain.’

‘Nevertheless, I want you to promise me you will not go out without an escort again.’

She looked sharply at him. ‘Why should I make promises to you, Captain Carstairs? I really cannot think why you expect me to do so.’

‘I know it is no business of mine what you do, but I should be sorry to think of you being abducted by the likes of those two. They would not treat you gently, you may be sure.’

‘How do you know so much about it?’

‘I have twice lately been engaged on kidnap cases for the Society. Desperate men do not hesitate to put an end to their victim’s life if their demands are not met, and even sometimes if they are, if they think she can identify them. I should hate that to happen to you.’

‘What was the outcome of your investigations, Captain?’ she asked. ‘Did you restore the victims to their families?’

He smiled, realising she was evading making the promise he asked for. ‘One was returned safely to her parents without the ransom being paid because the kidnappers were foiled. The other had not been abducted, but had run away to Gretna Green with a lover. I had the devil’s job to persuade her to go back home. The couple had been together for two or three days, so her father felt obliged to allow the marriage to go ahead.’

‘A happy ending, then.’

‘Who’s to know? Her father had his reasons for refusing his consent in the first place and perhaps he was right. Only time will tell.’

‘Are you always so cynical?’

‘Not cynical, Miss Gilpin, simply a realist.’

‘Then you do not think love lasts?’

‘I am sure genuine love does, but recognising it when it comes, that is the hard part.’

‘Oh, then you are a cynic.’

He was tired of her quizzing him, especially as she was getting very close to the bone, and decided to turn the tables. ‘Have you ever been in love, Miss Gilpin?’

‘Now that is a very personal question, but as you have been so kind as to rescue me and shown concern for my safety, I will answer you. No, I have never been in love, but I am sure I will recognise it when it comes.’

‘But you must have had many suitors.’

‘Money-grabbers, Captain, silly young fops who think my fortune will allow them to live in comfort without doing a hand’s turn to earn it. I shall not marry one of them. Papa has had to work hard to build up the business and I would not have all that wasted on a ne’er-do-well. Gilpin’s is far too important for that.’

He was silenced by this. Her father’s business meant more to her than falling in love. Jonathan had been right; she would be hard to live with if that was all she cared about. But at least she was honest. Letitia had not been honest; she had led him on, knowing she was never going to accept him. He shook the memories from him and turned back to Miss Gilpin. She was riding steadily with no sign of the fright she must have had. Foolish and hoydenish she might be, but he found himself admiring her composure, which would have done credit to a duchess. ‘Do you go home or to Long Acre?’ he asked, as they left the park and rode along Tyburn Lane.

‘Home to Piccadilly,’ she said. ‘I will slip indoors and change before joining my father for breakfast, then we will go to the Long Acre together as usual.’

They turned down beside Green Park and on to Piccadilly and thence to the mews. She pulled up as a groom came out to take her horse. Alex dismounted and held out his hands to help her down. ‘Are you recovered?’ he murmured, noticing her hands were still shaking a little.

‘Yes, thank you. I will bid you good day now, Captain, but remember when you come to collect your carriage, say nothing of what occurred.’

He bowed. ‘As you wish. But you must remember what I said about not going out alone. Having failed once, those men might try again.’

‘I will remember.’

He remounted and rode back to Mount Street to change and have his own breakfast. He was more than a little worried by the episode with the two men. That they had intended an abduction he was fairly sure and if that were the case he thought they might try again and if Miss Gilpin was foolish enough to ride alone in the park, he could not answer for her safety. He wished wholeheartedly that he did not have to go to Norfolk. Why he was so bothered he did not know; Miss Gilpin was nothing to him and Henry Gilpin had funds enough to pay a dozen ransoms. And perhaps he was seeing trouble where none existed. He left Pegasus with Davy and went indoors.

Charlotte was far more shaken up over the episode that she liked to admit. Had those men really intended to kidnap her? Whatever would she have done if Captain Carstairs had not come along to scare them off? She had been so relieved to see him, she had fallen into his arms. How could she have been so blind to decorum as to let him hold her like that? They had stood so close, toe to toe, his arms encasing her so that she could hear his heartbeat against her ear. No one had ever held her like that before and the strange sensations it had produced in her body had altogether eclipsed the fright she had had. She had looked up into his face and wondered if he would kiss her. But of course, he had not; it would have been the height of impropriety and would certainly have soured their business relationship. That was more important than wondering what he thought about her and whether he knew the effect he had on her. Why did it matter? Because he had held her in his arms and set her heart racing? No doubt he would have rescued any young lady in the same danger. She was not special.

She breakfasted with her father and managed to chat about what the day held for them without saying a word about riding in Hyde Park. She hoped Captain Carstairs would keep his word and not give her away. She could not face any questions about that or any restrictions on her freedom. But she would take care to ask one of the grooms to ride behind her when she went riding in the park again.

* * *

Alex arrived at Long Acre promptly at noon where he found his new carriage had already been harnessed to a splendid pair of matched greys. It was a matter of a moment to transfer his baggage from the handcart he had hired into the boot of the carriage with the aid of the young lad who had pushed it there. He tipped the boy generously and sent him on his way before carefully inspecting the whole equipage, watched by Davy who had been brought along to drive it.

‘It meets with your approval?’ Henry queried after showing him the secret compartment.

‘Most certainly. What say you, Davy?’

‘As fine an outfit as ever you could meet, my … Captain,’ he amended, catching a warning look from his master.

‘Then let us go into the office and complete the transaction,’ Henry said.

Alex followed Henry into the office where Charlotte sat at her desk. She was in the plain gown she had worn the day before, her hair was once more dragged back severely into a knot. Miss Gilpin at work was very different from Miss Gilpin at a concert. One was severely dressed in plainspun cloth with the minimum of padding, the other as elegant as any of the ladies of the ton, in a wide-skirted dress of heavy blue silk which emphasised a superb figure. It was almost as if she were two different people, three if you counted the hoyden who rode a horse many a man might find hard to handle.

She bade him good morning as if it were the first time they had met that day and he felt obliged to play along with that, asking her how she did and if she had enjoyed the concert the evening before. He was bidden to be seated while she completed the invoice. He watched her as her pen glided over the paper. She seemed composed, the ultimate businesswoman, but he noticed her hand shook a little and realised she was not impervious to him. Why that pleased him he did not know. She was most definitely out of bounds and the episode in Hyde Park was an aberration and he must not continue to dwell on it.

The horses, he discovered, when she handed him the invoice, cost as much as the coach, but he did not doubt they were worth it. Nor did he doubt that Gilpin had made more than a fair profit, but he did not begrudge him that. He was prepared to pay for quality, as so many others were, a fact testified by the man’s success. Altogether his bill came to two hundred and forty pounds ten shillings. He filled in the full amount on the bill of exchange and gave it to Miss Gilpin, receiving a neat receipt.

Henry had been to a cupboard and extracted a bottle and two glasses. ‘Will you join me in a drink to celebrate?’ he said, pouring cognac. The man seemed utterly unaware of the dangerous currents passing between his customer and his daughter.

Alex took a glass of brandy from him and they stood toasting each other, watched by Charlotte, who found herself studying him again. Although he had changed his clothes, he was still wearing dark blue and white, but far from making him look sombre it emphasised his magnificent physique. She felt herself unwittingly remembering how she had stood enveloped in his arms and how warm and comfortable it had been and, afraid her rosy cheeks would betray her, hurriedly looked away.

His glass empty, Alex put it down, bowed to them both and took his leave, having promised to bring the coach back for servicing when it required it.

Davy was already on the box ready to drive off. ‘Right, off to Briarcroft,’ he told him. ‘We will call on my mother first.’

Charlotte watched him go from the window, conscious of a feeling of anticlimax, of wishing she knew more about him. He had an air of aloofness and a cynicism that sat ill with his courtesy and compassion. He had ridden hard to save her from those men, then berated her for riding alone, as if it was any business of his. Just what was his business? She knew he was a seafaring captain and belonged to the Piccadilly Gentlemen, but that was all. He had vouchsafed nothing about his family. For all she knew he was married and had a brood of children. Would a man buying a travelling coach not include a wife in the transaction, if only by mentioning her tastes? He had done nothing like that. And he had arrived at Lady Milgrove’s with Viscount Leinster when she would have expected him to bring his wife if he had one. But perhaps the wife lived in Norfolk and did not like town ways. What, she told herself sternly, had it got to do with her? She turned away from the window to answer a knock at the door. In answer to her ‘Enter’, a man in working garb and clutching a soft felt hat in his hand came in to stand before her.

He bowed his head. ‘Miss Gilpin, I am Martin Grosswaite, here as promised. What would you like me to do?’ He did not, as she expected, ask to see her father who was in the paint shop, where the artist they employed was about to begin putting a coat of arms on a chaise before it was varnished. She surmised her father had told him to speak to her.

She entered his particulars in the register she kept for employees and then conducted him to the upper floor to be introduced to the head carpenter and set to work. Then she went thoughtfully back to her office. Martin Grosswaite had been perfectly polite and had answered her questions in a straightforward manner, but there was something about him that troubled her. It might have been his craggy face, but she was not one to be disturbed by ill looks, or it might have been his pale eyes, which darted about as he spoke and never once looked directly at her. It made her feel uncomfortable.

She shook her foolish thoughts from her; he had been nervous and anxious to please, that was all, and if he did not please it was easy enough to dismiss him. And with that thought she sat down at her desk and pulled the sales ledger towards her.