Bad Miss Bennet (6 page)

Read Bad Miss Bennet Online

Authors: Jean Burnett

BOOK: Bad Miss Bennet
2.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘We must meet more often, madam. Whenever our paths cross you improve my fortunes considerably.' Anyone could appreciate my feelings of mortification at this point. If only I had not been so hasty. If I had waited for Mr Getheridge … I would have lost the garnets again but now I stood to lose all the jewellery – and who knew what other misfortunes awaited me at the hands of this brute? My thoughts were rudely interrupted when the moll suddenly threw her fan at my head and launched herself upon me once more trying to wrench one of the bangles from my wrist.

The highwayman batted her away viciously and banged on the roof of the carriage. As the vehicle came to an abrupt stop I was thrown into a corner while the door on the opposite side flew open and the moll was unceremoniously heaved onto the ground. The highwayman threw a few coins onto the screaming heap, shut the door and signalled to the driver to move off.

‘There was no need for that,' I spat at him. ‘You cannot treat a female in that manner, whomever she is.' He sat down beside me and fondled one of the bangles on my arm. A slight but definite
frisson
passed through that limb. The man was so alarmingly handsome. I knew that he was aware of the effect he had. He smiled broadly and continued to hold on to my arm.

‘She is just a whore, a Ratcliff Highway stroller before I brought her to Covent Garden. And I paid her well. She was beginning to annoy me. Do not fret, madam, our journey will soon be over. I do not believe we were properly introduced last time we met.' He gave a slight bow. ‘Jerry Sartain at your service once more. And you are?'

‘Mrs Lydia Wickham,' I replied haughtily, ‘and what iniquities do you intend to inflict on me, sir? Assuredly, your neck will be stretched if you kill me. I have influential friends.'

My companion did not seem unduly upset at this possibility. He moved closer and took my hand. ‘You are far too precious an asset for any harm to come to you, Mrs Wickham. I have a feeling that we could form a valuable partnership.'

I recollected that I had heard something similar from Mr Getheridge. Men were anxious to form alliances with me providing they were of a dubious nature. And now a criminal whose name corresponded suspiciously with Old Nick or Satan, was making me an offer that I would be unable to refuse in the circumstances.

I must admit that I did not find Jerry Sartain's proximity altogether unpleasant. In fact I was quite overcome with emotions I had not experienced for some time. However, I did my best to affect severity in my looks and voice. He continued to watch me carefully with that same sardonic expression. He was dark haired and smooth skinned – quite Byronic in appearance. I could be undone if I did not take care.

The carriage came to a halt and I was told to hand over all my jewels. They promptly disappeared into Sartain's capacious pockets.

‘It is for your own protection, madam,' he assured me. ‘This is an unsavoury area.' He was not exaggerating.

I got down onto a poorly lit street and was immediately pulled into a maze of narrow, black alleyways full of tenement houses. The stench was very bad and my slippers made contact with something I did not wish to identify. Bedraggled women appeared out of the shadows and made lewd suggestions to my companion, pulling at his sleeve and coyly asking, ‘On yer way' ome love … lookin' for a good time?' When I stared at them they made aggressive gestures towards me and snarled, ‘Whachoo lookin' at?' Jerry batted them aside and tapped on the door of one of the hovels. It was quickly opened and I was dragged inside. I was aware of a hall barely wide enough for one body and an equally narrow staircase before we arrived in a meanly appointed chamber lit by two candles, containing a small table and two chairs and little else.

‘Sit!' commanded Sartain, before striding to the door and calling for refreshments.

A slatternly woman eventually appeared with a jug of wine, beer, a loaf and a hunk of cheese. My captor ordered the smoking, tallow candles to be replaced with beeswax – a surprising addition to this mean hovel. I wondered if they were for my benefit. The woman gave me a curious and contemptuous look as she banged the items on the table and sidled out. Sartain emptied the jewels on to the table and invited me to share his supper. I declined although I had taken very little nourishment that evening. I felt sick to my stomach wondering if I would ever escape alive from this place.

Sartain, or Satan as I silently named him, decided to break the impasse. ‘I recall when we met in the forest that you described yourself as an impoverished war widow, Mrs Wickham. Am I correct?'

‘Yes!' I said, teeth gritted. ‘You will gain nothing by keeping me here.'

‘I shall be the judge of that. Perhaps you could explain to me how an impoverished widow happens to be wearing diamond bracelets in company with that rogue Getheridge.'

‘I shall explain nothing,' I cried, feeling more exhausted and vexed by the minute. ‘My private affairs are not your concern, sir. You are nothing but a common thief who will hang at Newgate.' He nodded as if in agreement and smiled at me as he lifted a glass of wine.

‘Come now, we have sparred long enough. If you wish to be released you must consider my proposition. It could be of great benefit to both parties. The alternative for you …' he paused, ‘will not be pleasant. You are unlikely to be rescued from this place.'

I shivered, remembering how many young women disappeared without trace in London. ‘What is your proposition?'

‘Why, simply to make myself richer with your assistance. I propose to offer you employment.' I gaped at him in astonishment.

‘Employment? You are mad, sir. I am a gentlewoman!' He nodded calmly.

‘A gentlewoman who has fallen on hard times, I believe. My plan will relieve you of that problem. Unless, of course, you can earn more money as Getheridge's light o'love.'

At this point I endeavoured to stand up, reach across the table, grab the jug and hurl it at him, but my knees betrayed me and I sank back onto the hard chair. Sartain waited patiently for me to compose myself and then repeated his offer. I surprised myself at this point by bursting into tears. It had been a difficult evening, as my readers will appreciate.

To my consternation my companion leaned across the table and slapped my face. I screamed and covered my face with my hands. After a few seconds I lifted my head and looked at him. ‘I shall have a fit of the megrims if you treat me in this despicable way.'

‘You will not,' he replied, pushing bread and cheese towards me. I was forced to eat something and to swallow some wine. I admit that I felt restored afterwards and I decided to do whatever was necessary to escape from this place.

‘It is quite simple, madam' said Jerry. ‘You will give me details of your wealthy acquaintances and their movements and I will give you a share in the money and valuables I extract from them. Your familiarity with Getheridge will prove invaluable. Theft is my speciality. I rob the rich to aid the poor.' He smiled and pointed at his chest. ‘Specifically, me!'

‘How do you know that I will not betray you to the authorities as soon as I am free of this place?'

‘Because you wish to be rich, madam. I know the signs of covetousness very well. Believe me, my scheme is more certain than cheating at the card tables.'

He picked up the diamond bangles and put them in his pocket, pushing the garnets towards me. ‘I will keep these as surety. I will send a message to you with further instructions in a few days.'

I almost wept with frustration. ‘Please!' I begged. ‘Give me back the jewels. Getheridge will never forgive me. At least give me one of them.' He leaned forward and placed his face close to mine, smiling and looking devilish and desirable at the same time. ‘Persuade me, madam.'

I cannot readily describe, dear reader, how we came to be in the adjoining room lying on a skimpily covered bed with dusty curtains. I recall the dust in my nostrils but nothing else. We stepped out of our clothes and Jerry obligingly unlaced my bodice. We threw ourselves on to the bed where we were transported into a world of fleshly delights such as I had never experienced before and not often since. After Mr Wickham's perfunctory efforts in this department the pleasures offered by Jerry were a revelation to me. Despite his earlier threatening tone towards me, he was all consideration and passion when we were between the sheets. I knew I was lost from that moment. Whatever he wished me to do, whatever crime I might be called on to commit I would do it willingly if these delights were to be my reward.

Afterwards, I recall searching for my (deliciously decadent) pink silk stockings, attempting to calm my disordered appearance, and being sent back to Curzon Street in a cab in a dazed and delighted condition.

I found the household in an uproar with candles blazing everywhere although it was the middle of the night. There was general consternation over my tattered appearance.

‘I feared the worst for you,' cried Selena. ‘Do not attempt to describe your ordeal, my dear.' I was given a hot posset and hurried to my bed where I fell instantly into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter Five

I did not wake until the following midday and after a cup of chocolate I was soon luxuriating in a hot bath prepared for me by Selena and the maid. They hovered around me solicitously, urging me not to upset myself on any account. I realised that the entire household believed me to have been kidnapped and probably violated in a horrendous manner and that they were trying to show their sympathy in any way possible.

I toyed with the idea of allowing this misapprehension to continue but I knew they would soon tire of showing constant compassion and I might as well tell the truth. I was thinking how I might best explain this as I sat in my room after the bath nibbling a sweet roll. Selena for once was lost for words and was resorting to patting my hand constantly, which I found irritating. At this point there was a knock at the door and Miles begged leave to enter.

‘How is the, er, victim … I mean, patient?' he stuttered as his wife glared at him. I waved a languid hand and gave him a wan smile. Miles hopped awkwardly from one foot to the other, not knowing what to say. ‘My sword is always at your service, dear madam,' he continued, ‘should you wish me to call out the person who perpetrated this outrage!' I waved my hand again and said that I was unable to collect my thoughts adequately at that moment.

‘There, there,' said Selena patting my hand again. I resisted an impulse to lob a pellet of roll in her direction. She nodded sharply at the door and Miles began to retreat.

‘In moments of crisis, dear madam, I always say thank heavens for the salts of Epsom,' he burbled. ‘A purge of the whole system can work wonders.' The door closed rapidly as his wife threw her shoe at him.

‘Do
not
pat my hand again!' I cried out. ‘The situation is not as grim as you imagine.'

‘Do you mean … are you trying to tell me that you were not … that you have not been …? Well, I am dismayed at your impudence, Lydia. How can you play upon our sympathies in this way?'

‘I
was
kidnapped,' I retorted, ‘and treated abominably by a highwayman and attacked by his moll. Is that not enough to merit sympathy? Must I also have been cruelly violated?' At that moment a thought occurred to me. I looked around in dismay. ‘Where are my jewels?'

‘They are in the cabinet under the window. We had to prise them from your fingers when we put you to bed. I see you retain your grasp upon life's priorities.'

The next hour was spent in recounting my adventures and listening to my friend's outraged comments. The gist of her remarks was that I could not expect to advance myself in society if I entered into liaisons with highwaymen, however dashing.

‘Only one,' I reminded her. ‘There is no need for the plural. And he made me an interesting offer that I could not refuse at the time.'

Selena fixed me with a beady eye. ‘There will be no question of Almack's if this little episode leaks out. You will, of course, hand him over to the authorities?'

‘Of course,' I replied, not meeting her eye. I changed the subject to the matter of Mr Getheridge and his reaction to the loss of one of the diamond bangles. Selena continued to regard me suspiciously.

Mr Getheridge himself put in an appearance soon after accompanied by a trio of Bow Street runners who were waiting to scour the area in search of the villain who had made off with me. They awaited only my direction as to the neighbourhood.

Chief among the three was a man called Townshend, a short, fat man wearing a flaxen wig, a blue coat and a broad brimmed white hat. This man was the most famous of the runners, recommended by the royal family for his daring and cunning.

I suppose I should have been flattered that my patron thought me worthy of the best, but my hand trembled a little as I waved it in the general direction of South London. Then I put my hand to my brow and said weakly that I had little recollection of the events but the words ‘Ratcliff Highway' came to mind. The men nodded in sympathy and set off for that district.

Mr Getheridge agreed to leave me in peace saying that he would return in a few days to escort me to Brighton where my spirits would soon be restored and a few furbelows could be purchased to aid my recovery. Before he left he presented me with a small gold watch locket to be worn on the breast – a delicate, lovely thing for which I thanked him profusely. In view of the loss of the diamond bangle his generosity was most touching.

When I had dressed and ventured downstairs I found a letter awaiting me all the way from Derbyshire. Lizzie wrote peevishly that they had heard little from me since my arrival in London and they trusted that I was not entirely taken up in the social whirl. I was, after all, still in mourning. I screwed the letter into a ball and threw it away wondering uneasily whether any news of my escapades would reach them in their rural paradise.

Other books

The Immorality Clause by Brian Parker
The Harder They Come by T. C. Boyle
Captives of Cheyner Close by Adriana Arden
Imperfect Contract by Brickman, Gregg E.
Death of a Kingfisher by Beaton, M.C.
Cullen's Bride by Fiona Brand
Picture Me Dead by Heather Graham
The Shroud Maker by Kate Ellis