Calico Road (43 page)

Just like the other people up here on the Calico Road were doing, she thought dreamily, still standing with her eyes closed. They were banding together to defy an evil man and she wanted to be part of it, wanted to stay with Toby and make this inn her life from now on.

Shaking her head at her own fancies, she went across to the cupboard and found the key. The back panel seemed so solid that if she hadn’t seen Toby open it, she’d not have believed it possible for it to be a door. Using the candle, she located the knots in the wood which concealed the locks. Turning the key in each, she then pushed at the side panel as instructed and was surprised by how easily the heavy old door swung backwards.

Holding up the candle, she looked round the long narrow room, then hung the candleholder on a wall hook and went to the chest of drawers Phoebe had mentioned. Such a pretty piece of furniture! She pulled a pile of old papers off the top and saw the pattern of leaves and flowers inlaid into the wood. She ran her fingers over it because she’d never seen anything as lovely, not even in Peggy’s front room.

Then something seemed to chide her for wasting time, so she pulled out the drawers one by one, finding that the next-to-bottom drawer was slightly shorter than the others and had a slot behind it on its rear panel. It contained some yellowing old papers. Meg had no hesitation in pulling them out and reading them. Slowly and carefully she traced out what the words said. Some of them were long and meaningless, but she understood enough to know that Phoebe had told her the truth. It was all written down in fading ink and dated nearly thirty years ago.

From somewhere far away she heard a bell chiming faintly and it seemed like a warning that it was time to leave. She put the secret documents back, slid the drawer into place and placed the pile of papers on top again. One slid out as she moved them, a sketch, and she stared at the young woman in it, seeing at once the resemblance to the man she loved, the man whose features she knew by heart.

Who was this woman? If Phoebe didn’t tell her, she’d ask Toby. But not till they’d got over the present trouble.

Her final impulse was to blow out the candle and leave it in the room.

When she got back Toby was looking for her. ‘These two gentlemen want a meal, love. They set off at dawn and they’re famished. It’s a bit early, I know, but can you find them something?’

‘Yes, of course.’

Danger and dinners, she thought wryly. Life has to go on. She realised he was still standing in the doorway, looking at her and smiling. She smiled back, her heart warmed by his loving expression.

But as she worked her face set in lines of grim determination. They were not going to harm her Toby while there was breath left in her body. Nor were they going to deprive him of what should be rightfully his. He might not fight for it but she would.

Bram came back after about an hour, driving his cart into the stable yard and knocking on the side door of the inn. ‘I need to speak to Toby quickly, love.’

Meg let him in and went to find Toby. She took his place serving beer in the public room, wishing she could stay to find out what Bram had discovered. But there were a few men from the village in for pots of mulled ale to warm them on this frosty day as well as the two travellers finishing their meal.

Raised voices from the house place made everyone fall silent. Toby and Bram were quarrelling, though the cause of their disagreement wasn’t clear. Meg was so surprised she stood like the others, gaping in shock, because she’d never heard Toby quarrel with anyone before. And come to think of it, Bram wasn’t the quarrelsome type, either.

Then she saw the strangers exchanging glances and suddenly wondered whether they’d been sent here by Beardsworth to keep an eye on the place. She looked away from them quickly, not wanting to betray herself, but saw one or two of the men from Calico giving them suspicious sideways glances as well.

‘Damned if I’m coming back this way again,’ Bram yelled. ‘Fighting and guns one day, and who knows what the next? I’ll stay in Lancashire from now on. I can make my living anywhere and I’m not giving yon mad bugger down the hill another chance to kill me. What’s more, if you had half an ounce of sense in that big, thick skull of yours, you’d leave too.’

‘Ah, you’re a coward.’

‘Better a live coward than a dead hero!’

When she heard the side door slam, Meg went into the house place. ‘Toby love, what’s the matter with Bram?’

‘Don’t mention that name again to me!’ he roared, but at the same time gave her a wink.

Pippa was grinning in one corner, Phoebe muttering to herself. Clearly they knew more than Meg did about the so-called quarrel. She went across to stir her stew, throwing Toby a dirty glance. ‘You’d better get back to your customers and please try not to quarrel with
them
,’ she said loudly.

There was a guffaw from the public room, and when Toby went in there was a buzz of conversation from the locals, but the strangers had finished their meal and were ready to pay and leave, it seemed.

Bram drove as fast as he could down into the valley. The donkey, unused to such speed, kept trying to slow down to her usual amble, but for once he wouldn’t let her. He kept a wary eye behind him, hoping that no one was following. But he caught a glimpse of the two men on horseback further up the road behind him. They were trying not to be seen but could only be following him.

When he got to a crossroads down the hill he turned in the opposite direction to Backenshaw, which was his eventual destination, to fool his pursuers. He drove for nearly an hour to a village where he had friends he could rely on, aware all the time that he was being followed.

By the time the two riders reached the village, Bram was selling goods on the green. He watched them go into the small alehouse and come out again a few minutes later. They stood watching him then mounted their horses.

Only when they’d ridden away did he close his eyes for a moment in relief and pray that his intuition would continue to keep him safe. What it said now was that they weren’t going to leave him alone. He left his donkey and cart in a friend’s care and paid that same friend to drive a cart of hay to Backenshaw, with him hiding underneath the dry scratchy stuff.

He kept still as they rumbled along and wasn’t surprised when his friend exclaimed, ‘Bugger me, you were right! It’s them two as followed you, Bram. They’re waiting by the side of the road.’

‘Pray they let you through without looking under the hay.’

The cart continued to jolt along and just as Bram thought his nerves could stand it no longer, his friend said, ‘They didn’t stop me and they’re not following me, but I’m going to turn off the road now and ask my cousin to take you further in his closed cart. What’s more, I’m coming with you. I didn’t believe you when you said you were in danger, but I do now.’

It took longer to get to Backenshaw like this, but at least he’d got there, Bram thought later as they drove into the small town. It would soon be dusk. A good time to leave the place again quietly.

They left the cart at an inn where his cousin was known, then made their way out to Parkside.

Sophia hadn’t been able to settle all day. Jethro had come back from Rochdale but gone straight to the mill to oversee the installation of the new engine parts. He sent a message that he’d be working with the engineer until late at night.

She paced up and down in frustration, wondering whether to go to the mill and insist on seeing him. But she hadn’t heard anything from Harriet, so perhaps it wasn’t urgent.

It felt urgent though, she couldn’t think why.

When the maid came to say that there were two men at the back door insisting on speaking to her, she didn’t hesitate. ‘Show them in.’

‘But, ma’am, they’re dirty and covered in bits of straw.’

‘Do as I ask.’

They stood just inside the door of the parlour, one of medium height and sturdy, one smaller, with a weatherbeaten complexion and eyes bright with intelligence. It was he who spoke.

‘I’m Bram Craven, Mrs Greenhalgh, and I’ve brought a message from your sister.’

Sophia put one hand up to her throat. Trouble. She knew it. ‘Tell me.’

He looked over his shoulder and moved closer. ‘Don’t want anyone to overhear, do we?’ He explained quickly what had happened and she could only stare at him in shock.

‘She’s worried your husband won’t agree to help her escape, begs you not to tell him.’

And heaven help me, Sophia thought, but I haven’t been able to find out how he feels. Well, it was time to act and since he wasn’t here, she must do something. ‘I’ll go up there in my carriage and bring her back.’

‘Beg pardon, missus, but Beardsworth might try to stop you.’

Sophia stared at him in shock. ‘He wouldn’t dare!’

‘He’d dare anything, that one would.’ Bram told how he’d had to conceal himself to get through to her. ‘We don’t want you getting hurt, do we?’ He looked at her belly meaningfully.

Sophia began to pace to and fro. She didn’t want to risk her baby, either, but she wasn’t leaving Harriet to face that man’s violence any longer. ‘I’ll write a note to my husband and have it taken to the mill just as we’re setting off so that he has to follow.’ She looked at him. ‘You
will
come with me, won’t you?’ Somehow she trusted him. He had such an open, friendly face.

‘We’ll both come with you, missus.’

She set the bell pealing, gave orders for Bram and his friend to be fed, then sat down to write a note to Jethro, scattering sand everywhere as she tried to dry the ink quickly. Worried about the reliability of her young maids, she decided to send Tettie with the note because she trusted the older woman implicitly.

The nurse was very disapproving. ‘In your condition, ma’am, this isn’t wise.’

‘Wise or not, I’m going to help my sister and I’m not letting you or Jethro stop me. Now will you take the note to the mill or not?’

‘Of course I will.’

Within minutes Sophia was sitting in the carriage, praying she’d get to her sister before Andrew did.

A man stepped out in front of her as she was making her way into town and Tettie let out a squeak of fear just as another man put his hand over her mouth from behind and dragged her into an alley.

‘Where are you going?’ one asked.

‘None of your business.’

‘That’s for me to decide.’ He held a sharp knife to her throat. ‘I’ll ask you again: where are you going?’

Terrified, she said, ‘I’m taking a note to my master at the mill.’

‘What’s in it?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Show it me.’

She fumbled in the pocket of her cloak and brought it out. He snatched it from her and took it to the street to read it beneath a watch lantern.

When he got back he stared down at her and she thought he was going to murder her there and then. Instead, he said, ‘Tie her up and gag her mouth. She’ll not recognise us again. It’s too dark here.’

Trussed up like a fowl for roasting, she was left lying in the alley, unable to move, unable to call for help, terrified now for her mistress and the unborn child.

As time passed and the carriage went higher and higher with no sign of Jethro following them, Sophia began to worry.

‘I’d expected my husband to have caught up with us by now,’ she said to the pedlar.

‘I was thinking the same thing, missus.’ He hesitated then said, ‘Perhaps we ought to turn back. We don’t want you getting hurt.’

‘We can’t very well turn the carriage round on this road. And anyway, I’m worried sick about my sister. No, we’ll press on.’

Behind them the two riders held back, not wanting the driver of the carriage to know he was being followed.

The men in the public room of the Packhorse drank less that night than usual and there were people sitting there who didn’t usually come out for a drink. Meg alternated between standing with Toby behind the counter and sitting with Phoebe.

Pippa sat quietly in a corner of the house place. Her dad said she was to be ready to run for help, but if something happened in the front of the inn, she couldn’t go through there, and the side door was just as easy for people to enter by. ‘Can I take a candle and go and look round?’ she asked when Meg came in for a moment.

Meg looked at her in surprise. ‘Why?’

‘For another way out. Just in case.’

Meg liked the girl, who was willing and cheerful. ‘I’ll show you round, if you like.’ She took a candle and led the way along the corridor to the middle part of the inn, then to the rear, shadows fluttering and weaving along the walls as they walked.

‘They say this part is haunted,’ Pippa said.

Meg looked at her, but all she could see in the young face was excitement, not fear. ‘If it is, it’s good spirits who haunt it, not evil ones. I like this back part.’

Pippa went across the big room to the outer door at the side. ‘Is there a key?’

Meg fumbled above the lintel. ‘It’s here.’

The girl opened the door and peered outside. ‘I’ll know where to come, then, if I have to get away quickly. This would be the best way to get up the clough.’ She closed the door, locked it and stood on tiptoe to replace the key.

Her young friend’s cheerful assumption that she would need to fetch help didn’t make Meg feel any better.

Peter, alerted by his mistress to the need to have horses saddled ready for himself and his master, waited for Jethro to come home from the mill in response to the note she’d sent. When he didn’t, the groom was puzzled. He was well aware of how fond his master was of Mrs Greenhalgh so he’d expected him to come rushing home.

And Tettie hadn’t returned, either, though she’d been gone long enough to get to the mill and back twice over.

What could have happened?

After pacing up and down for a little longer, he decided to go to the mill himself. The streets were quite empty because it was cold and getting late. He walked quietly, carrying a stout knobbed stick, alert for anyone following him or trying to attack him.