Just Deserts (33 page)

A huge covered carrier’s wagon stood in the yard. Before
it, held by a long rope leash in the hands of a stable
boy—instantly recognised by Tidmarsh as the boy Sawleigh—was the
great inky black stallion. By dint of sidling and tossing, and
whinnying in protest, he was resisting all efforts to make him
mount into the wagon.

Two planks had been placed against the open back by means
of which he was presumably expected to enter the vehicle. Moving
around the horse, and attempting to encourage his co-operation by
nudging him with long-handled whips, were a couple of grooms. To
one side stood several other men, among them the squat figure of
Billy Bolsover, fairly dancing with impatience.

The assembled company were by far too intent on their task
to notice the newcomers at first, and, before they could do so, a
man moved out from the side armed with the long-lashed whip of a
coachman.

‘
Leave him to me, I’ll handle him,’ he was heard to call
out, and as the other two men moved aside, he lifted his arm and
the wicked length of his whip flew through the air and, with a
cracking sound, coiled about Indigo’s inky flank.

The horse bellowed in pain, and turning to challenge this
new attacker, reared up on his hind legs and came down with a
resounding crash. As he reared again, there was a concerted
backward movement from the group of watchers and a fusillade of
warning shouts.

‘
Take care!’

‘
Mind his hoofs!’

‘
You fool, watch what you are about!’

The man with the whip ran around the horse’s other side and
as the lash flailed out once more, his scarred face could be seen,
contorted with savage enjoyment. As the heavy thong cracked into
his side a second time, Indigo’s bellow of anguish brought the
party of rescuers alive again.

A howl of fury tore itself from Persephone’s lips, and her
knee dug into the flank of her mount. The tableau broke up as
startled faces whipped about, and Scarface jerked round in time to
see the Arabian grey thundering down upon him, its rider screaming
like one demented, her own whip raised to strike.

‘
Brute! Fiend!
Devil!’ yelled Persephone, her lash wreaking merciless
vengeance as she flayed the man about the face and shoulders,
controlling her own mount with automatic ease as she rode in
circles about her quarry.

Dropping his own weapon, the man raised his arms above his
head, crouching away to escape the punishing blows.

‘
Take
that
,
you evil ruffian! And that for my
father!’ Persephone cried, livid with rage, driving him as she beat
him towards the now scattering crowd.

Roaring in pain, the groom lolloped with his limping gait
to plunge among his fellows as Persephone at last ceased her
attack, panting with effort, while the men about her stared in a
mixture of fear and curiosity.

Tidmarsh and Siegfried, who had ridden forward with her,
but had perforce held back in open-mouthed astonishment during the
late attack, now rode to flank her on either side, ready for
action.

‘
I knew it was you, you vile cheat,’ Persephone cried,
catching sight of Billy Bolsover where he stood gazing up at her,
as shocked as the rest. ‘Oh, but you will regret this
day!’

‘
My dear lady,’ Billy began, recovering himself.

‘
Don’t you “dear lady” me,’ Persephone warned, transferring
her whip to her left hand and digging into the voluminous pocket of
her skirts. ‘No tricks, sir. I am armed!’

In proof of which, she produced her pistol, cocked it, and
levelled it at Bolsover’s person.

‘
Now, don’t be foolish, Miss Winsford,’ Billy begged. ‘You
cannot mean to shoot that thing.’

‘
You know very well I am quite capable of it,’ Persephone
snapped. ‘I have killed one of your henchmen already, have I not?
Stand back!’

Not only Bolsover, but all his retinue, thought it prudent
to obey her. Then, with no warning, Persephone wheeled her horse
and rode up to the stable boy who still held the tether against
which Indigo was straining, having backed away from the whirlpool
of whips. Sawleigh’s mouth, already agape, now sagged wider and
horror entered his starting eyes.

‘
D-don’t shoot, miss,’ he stammered.

‘
Let go that rope,’ Persephone instructed, jerking her
pistol hand forward for emphasis.

The boy dropped the end of the rope with alacrity and
raised his hands above his head. Indigo, finding himself suddenly
loose, wasted no time, but galloped away, heading first in the
wrong direction towards the rear of the house. Finding his way
blocked, however, he turned and sped off down the side of the
building, and was soon around the corner, heading for freedom, the
long rope dangling behind.

‘
Siegfried, go after him,’ Persephone ordered.
‘But take him
home
.
Don’t
dare
come back
here.’

‘
Aye, mistress,’ the jockey said obediently and was
off.

Tidmarsh followed a little way and then turned back, only
to find himself confronted by a phalanx of men separating him from
Persephone. He looked up and caught her eye, and seeing something
move to her left, uttered a hoarse alarm.

‘
Behind you!’

It was too late. Persephone felt a sharp blow on her wrist.
With a cry of pain, she dropped the pistol, which exploded at once,
deafening her momentarily. In the ensuing chaos, Tidmarsh was torn
from his horse by many hands and overpowered in seconds.

Next instant, a stinging pain slashed about Persephone’s
abdomen, and looking down she saw, with a sense of shock, the end
of a leather lash coiled about her waist. She seized it in both
hands, looking down its length at the same time to arrive at the
baby-blue eyes of Billy Bolsover, malevolently smiling.

‘
Now who will regret this day?’ cried the fat man with
jubilance, and tugged viciously at the handle of the whip that had
lately lashed Indigo, and which he had retrieved from the ground
unobserved.

The violent jerk unseated Persephone and she came tumbling
to the ground, rolling as she fell so that her head, unprepared,
and unprotected without the hat that had fallen off, struck the
cobbles sharply. There was a bursting of stars in her vision, and
then infinite blackness.

Chapter
Twelve

Penelope’s
acting powers had not been much called upon in the short
carriage journey from Hanover Square to Grosvenor Square, what
between her father’s preoccupation with Warren Hastings, and her
mother’s animadversions upon ‘Penelope’s’ unlucky indisposition.
She found herself looking forward to the evening with a flush of
the mischievous enjoyment she had felt on being first mistaken for
Persephone when she had entered society all those weeks
ago.

The first person she encountered after running the gauntlet
of Lady Rossendale and her cousins was Fitzwarren. Her heart missed
a beat and it was with a flutter in her stomach that she greeted
him in Persephone’s husky voice.

‘
Good evening, Fitz. I suppose you have had no word from my
future husband? I certainly have not.’

‘
None, I am sorry to say,’ he admitted, smiling. ‘Though I
am glad to see that you have thought better of whatever crazy idea
you had in mind last night.’

Penelope shrugged in Seph’s manner, thinking, If only you
knew! ‘What could I do, after all? But I am vexed to find Chid has
not yet returned.’

‘
Doubtless he will be here directly. But where is
Pen?’

‘
She is indisposed,’ Penelope answered, and saw with a leap
of the heart how his features creased into an expression of deep
concern.

‘
Indisposed? Why, how is this? Nothing serious, I
hope?’

‘
Oh no. A headache, merely.’

‘
A headache to keep her from a party?
Pen
? No, no, Seph, don’t trifle with me, I beg of you. If she
is indeed seriously ill, you must not keep it from
me.’

Penelope could not but be gratified by his words, and it
was hard indeed to sustain her role when everything in her wanted
to cry out her reassurance.

‘
Oh no, truly, Fitz, she is not ill. Mama thinks she is worn
down by the season, and I dare say it is true, such a gadabout as
she is.’

Fitz’s smile was perfunctory. ‘Yes, perhaps. I pray you
will give her my deepest regrets and wish her well again with all
speed.’

‘
Certainly,’ Penelope said, with difficulty refraining from
permitting her eyes to light up in the fashion she knew would be
tell-tale of her identity. Fortunately, perhaps, they were
interrupted by Count Leopold, also seeking Penelope. She repeated
her excuses, in the character of her twin, and watched with mixed
feelings the two of them retreat. She again wished that she had
confided in Fitz, but, at the same time, he had revealed to her far
more than he would have done had he known she was in fact
Penelope.

But in a moment her mind was distracted, for she was
approached by two gentlemen whose names escaped her, but who had
been in her sister’s company at the Newmarket races.

‘
Miss Winsford, any news?’ asked one.

‘
Yes, we have been so anxious,’ the other said. ‘Has Chid
returned?’

Penelope shook her head. ‘Alas, not yet. I can tell you
nothing.’

‘
And to happen at such a time,’ the first man said, ‘when I
dare say there is nothing you would less wish to be troubled
with.’

Assuming he referred to the betrothal, Penelope shrugged.
‘Nothing is of more importance than the safety of the
horse.’

‘
To be sure, yes,’ the second man said, twitting her slyly,
‘if only it does not make poor Chid miss his own betrothal
party.’

‘
He will care nothing for that,’ Penelope said, seizing her
chance to escape. ‘And no more will I.’

Turning her shoulder, she walked away, assuming that
Persephone would certainly not relish such comments and might be
counted upon to dismiss them without ceremony. Within a very short
time, however, she began to be annoyed in earnest, for it seemed as
though each person who came up to offer their felicitations on
her—or rather her sister’s—betrothal, found it necessary to comment
upon Chiddingly’s absence.

Though she would herself have formed excuses, she knew well
what Persephone’s response to such impertinent curiosity would
be.

‘
Oh, is he not here?’ she said daringly to one enquirer,
glancing about her. ‘I had not noticed.’

But, in spite of this, she began to be concerned herself.
Suppose Chiddingly had found Indigo with Goole, after all? Then why
would Seph not have returned from her own abortive rescue attempt?
Perhaps she was even now in Hanover Square, readying herself to
come to the party. Would she come as herself or as
Penelope?

Before she could make herself quite distracted, she caught
sight of the baron himself in the doorway of the ballroom. All her
fortitude deserted her. Her heart knocking against her ribs, she
moved forward to greet him, wondering what in the world she was to
say. In the event, he spoke first, solving the problem.

‘
It was not Goole,’ he said, ‘so you may delight in your
triumph.’

‘
Oh, I do,’ Penelope said, quite at a loss.

He looked oddly at her
and she hurried on.

‘
Everyone has been at pains to discuss your non-appearance,
so you are arrived just in time to rescue me from
embarrassment.’

‘
Since when do you care for that?’ he demanded.

‘
Oh, I don’t,’ Penelope agreed, smiling, though her heart
was raising a tempestuous tattoo in her breast. ‘But I knew you
would mind—I m-mean, the proprieties and—and such things as you
care for so greatly. . .’

Her voice died as she realised what a shambles she was
making of it. His eye was on her in so stern a fashion that the
colour rose to her cheeks.

‘
I think,’ he said in a menacing tone, ‘that we will go
apart a little, ma’am.’

‘
Oh no,’ Penelope quavered. ‘I mean, we
cannot
.
We are—we are the
principal guests.’

‘
Oh, I think we may safely disappear for a moment or two,’
he said, taking a firm grip on her elbow and steering her
inexorably towards the door of one of the little antechambers that
gave on to the ballroom.

‘
After all, an absence of more than a day from my affianced
bride. I am sure no one will wonder at it if my ardour suffers
impatience.’

Penelope could not utter a word. Her heart beat madly and a
wild idea of calling out for help she had to dismiss. Heavens, what
could she do? Her impersonation had not been supposed to include
making love to Chiddingly in a private room. More than ever she
wished she had confided in Fitz, and she cast a desperate eye
about, hoping to catch a glimpse of him just before the baron
unceremoniously pushed her into the little room and shut the
door.