Read The Captain's Daughter Online
Authors: Minnie Simpson
The following morning
, after they bade a warm
farewell to Cousin Alexandra and her family, they were on the final leg of
their journey to Bath. The road was in good condition, especially when they
reached the Bath Road. The rich and influential made sure that the road from
London to Bath was the very best in the Kingdom.
They easily completed the forty-one
mile journey by mid-afternoon.
As they entered Bath, Mattie looked
very lively and bright.
“It will be so good to visit the
Ramseys,” she said.
Amy was sure the Ramseys were not
to blame for Mattie’s excitement. Perhaps the fact that the town of Bath was
virtually crawling with young gentlemen would be, in Amy’s opinion, a more
likely culprit.
“Sir Frank and Lady Estella will
not be there,” said Amy’s mother.
“It will be odd to be in someone’s
house and they are not there,” said Amy.
“Mrs. Johanna Wardsley will be
there. She’s Lady Quillin’s sister.”
Amy’s mother realized from Amy’s
confused look that she wasn’t quite making sense.
“Oh dear. The Ramseys do not own
this house. It belongs to Lord and Lady Quillin who are good friends of the
Ramseys. They were most agreeable to us dwelling there for a few days,” said
Amy’s mother as the coach rolled up Pulteney Street in Bath and came to a halt
in front of their destination.
“Thank you for informing us before
we arrived, Mother,” said Amy with barely suppressed sarcasm.
Her mother didn’t notice because
she was already becoming flustered. Mattie was too excited to notice, although
such subtle and not so subtle things generally escaped her, Mrs. Charlotte
Parkhurst just looked grumpy as usual, only Emma sat silently with a wry smile.
They were warmly welcomed by Lady
Quillin’s sister. Johanna Wardsley was a somewhat staid women, perhaps slightly
reticent as Amy would learn, but most certainly welcoming. Perhaps she was glad
for some company other than the household servants. She turned out to have a
daughter, Cassandra Wardsley, who was obviously very glad to meet two visitors
of her own age, Amy and Mattie.
After the niceties of the greeting,
Mrs. Wardsley told them that Sir Frank and Lady Estella would arrive in a few
days. Lord and Lady Quillin were visiting the continent all summer as he was on
some kind of diplomatic mission.
At dinner that evening, Mrs.
Wardsley mostly defered to her daughter, Cassandra, who eagerly told the
Sibbridges of all the wonders of the world of Bath. Since she and her mother
had only lived in Bath for a couple of years, it was still a place of
excitement for her, especially now that she would have three companions to
guide around town for a little while.
They were all up bright and early
the next morning and Cassandra was bubbling over with information.
“We have to go to the Assembly
Rooms for breakfast,” she said excitedly.
“The Assembly Rooms?” asked Emma.
“Yes,” bubbled Cassandra. “You
cannot imagine how wonderful they are, and everyone will be there. They have
room after room, and they’re huge. They’re up by the Circus.”
“The Circus?” queried Amy.
“It’s a big grass circle just up
the hill. It’s only about half-a-mile away.”
“Well, it shouldn’t tire out the
horses too much,” quipped Emma.
“No. No. No. We don’t take your
coach. We have to walk there.”
“Walk?’ asked Amy.
“Yes. Everyone walks in Bath. Well,
some of the old people don’t. They have special chairs and have chairmen carry
them around.”
“Sedan chairs?” asked Emma.
“They are not quite the same as
sedan chairs, they’re more simply built,” replied Cassandra. “But everything is
different here. It’s nothing like London. When mother and I lived in London
after Father left, I could never go out of the house. Ladies don’t walk in
London and we couldn’t afford a coach. In Bath, ladies can walk anywhere they
want. I feel free here.”
And so the four young ladies walked
down Great Pulteney Street towards the River Avon and the center of Bath.
“You lived in London until two
years ago?” asked Amy during a brief break in Cassandra’s enthusiastic
rendition of the sights and sounds and amenities of the magic town of Bath.
“I lived in London all of my life.
‘Least as far back as I can recall.”
Amy immediately regretted her
question as it seemed to have stirred up some unpleasant memories.
“After Father wasn’t...around
anymore, mother had no money. We had to let all the servants go.”
Amy wondered what happened to
Cassandra’s father but was afraid to ask. Amy and Cassandra were now a little
ahead of Emma and Mattie. There was a great deal of building going on all along
Great Pulteney Street and that was of interest to Emma.
“The only reason we were able to
eat was that Aunt Marianne—Lady Quillin—remitted a small stipend to us each
month. Lady Quillin is mama’s sister.”
The conversation was interrupted as
all four had to stop in the middle of the Pulteney Bridge and watch the
mesmerizing flow of the River Avon as it swept under the bridge. But it was
only briefly, since all were hungry and drawn by the Assembly Rooms that the
three Sibbridge daughters had never seen, and where breakfast beckoned.
As they turned to their right and
headed northward up the hill, Amy wasn’t sure how much to ask. She was curious
but afraid to open old wounds. Fortunately, Cassandra was in a talking mood,
but now it was no longer the bubbly girl but a serious, if not solemn, young
woman.
“It was miserable in London, but
things all changed two years ago. Lord and Lady Quillin, Aunt Marianne,
returned to England. He had been stationed on the continent for several years.
They visited us and were shocked at how we were forced to live. Lord Quillin
was investing in the development of Pulteney Street and also a marvelous
gardens that are planned to be built at the end of Pulteney Street. Some say
they will be called the Vauxhall Gardens just like the ones in London, and
other people say they will be called Sydney Gardens. He bought the house on
Pulteney Street and said we could live there and take care of it. But mother
thinks he might have done it for us.”
“Where are the Assembly Rooms,”
interrupted Emma, “I’m starved.”
“We’re almost there,” laughed
Cassandra, and then she began to bubble again.
While Emma had been suffering from
gastronomic deprivation, Mattie had been quite unaffected, as she was
distracted from any pangs of hunger by the crowds of young gentlemen making
their way in the same direction.
Clearly, some of the young
gentleman were distracted in like manner as quite a few of them were casting
glances in Mattie’s direction, or perhaps they were looking at all four of the
young ladies. In actual fact, several of them greeted Cassandra with whom they
were clearly acquainted.
After a noisy community breakfast,
they all went to The Ballroom. It was breathtaking to the three visitors with
its size and opulence. They stared in wonder at the high arched ceiling and the
grand chandeliers.
Cassandra showed them around the
New Assembly Rooms. Everywhere they went they met more of her friends, one or
two of whom were of considerable interest to Mattie.
Mattie was in a wonder land. This
was her idea of Paradise having several young gentlemen hovering around trying
to amuse the girls. All too soon, in Mattie’s opinion, but not in Emma’s, it
was time to eat lunch.
After lunch, while Cassandra
and Mattie were conversing with a couple of young gentlemen, Amy and Emma
wandered around, strolling down the corridors and admiring all the luxurious
wonders of the place. Amy was impressed with how beautiful and elegant it all
looked, and Emma was intrigued by how it was all constructed.
While they were admiring the
Octagon Room, which was a perfect octagon, with its windows high up on the
yellow walls, and the four mantlepieces, and the giant crystal chandelier, a
man who looked familiar to them entered through the door from the Card Room. He
was accompanied by another man who was perhaps in his forties.
He did not seem to see them,
although, perhaps he was ignoring them and just pretending he didn’t recognize
them.
“Look,” whispered Emma, “the
Frenchman.”
The Frenchman, who had visited the
Sibbridges and who claimed to be the Compte d’Belleisle, was involved in deep
conversation with the other man who appeared to be in his forties or early
fifties.
“Let us greet our erstwhile
visitor,” said Amy.
“Do you think we should?” asked
Emma.
Amy strolled up to them in her most
coquettish way, followed by an uncertain Emma.
“Good Day, Compte,” said Amy with
an ingratiating smile.
Startled, he turned to see who
spoke. At first he seemed confused, and then he slowly recognized them. He
seemed, if anything, quite uncomfortable, almost like a child caught stealing
sweet cakes from the kitchen.
“Good Day, Lady... Please forgive
me. It is most bad of me since you kindly entertained me in your home, but your
name escapes me. It is all the fault of my suffering at the hands of the
Comité
de salut public
—The Committee of Public Safety. My mind has not been right
since.”
“You are excused,” said Amy with a
smile. “Other than your most unfortunate memory problem, I hope you are well. I
am Amaryllis and this is my sister, Emmaline.”
“Oh yes, yes. It all comes back to
me,” he said, slapping his forehead. “Oh forgive me please. I have failed to
introduce my companion. Lord Eskman, this is Lady Amaryllis, and
Lady...Emmaline.”
Lord Eskman just nodded his head
and mumbled an acknowledgement. He then nudged the Compte.
“Forgive us please,” said the
Compte, “I do not mean to be rude, but we have some most urgent business and
must leave.”
The two walked swiftly through the
door to the central hallway in the direction of the front entrance of the New
Assembly Rooms.
“Do you notice, Emma, that our
friend, the Compte, needs a good deal of forgiveness,” said Amy with a grin.
“Yes, and I also noticed his friend
seemed very interested in you.”
“He is far too old for me, Emma,”
said Amy grinning.
“I don’t mean that way.” Emma
looked at Amy and she was deeply serious. “He acted very surprised when he saw
you.”
“I didn’t notice him as I was too
involved being gracious to our Frenchman who claims to be a compte. What
exactly do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s hard to say,”
said Emma shaking her head. “It was as if he somehow recognized you and did not
expect to see you here. The best way I can explain it is it was as if he had
seen a ghost.”
“How could that be,” said Amy
puzzled. “You must be mistaken. I am absolutely sure I have never seen that man
before in my entire life. He cannot know me.”
“He has never seen you, but could
he have seen someone that looks like you?”
Five days
after their arrival in Bath, Ben turned up.
The girls were getting ready to go
to the Assembly Rooms for breakfast. When they realized Amy would not be going
this particular morning they took their leave. After they were gone, Amy sat
down with Ben in the drawing room.
“How did you find out where we were
staying,” asked a curious Amy.
“I’ll explain later,” said a
slightly breathless Ben. “I’ve just ridden in from Bristol and there are some
things you need to know.”
“You’ve found out something about
who I am?”
“I already know who you are. You’re
Amaryllis Sibbridge. I’m trying to find out what the threat is to Amaryllis and
why.”
Ben opened his satchel and pulled
out a bunch of papers, spreading them on a small round table. Most were notes
he had taken earlier from the
Bristol Gazette and Public Advertiser
. He
set the newspaper itself aside, and examined his notes. Amy looked at him
expectantly.
“I’ve spent the last three days in
Bristol. I don’t want you to get your hopes up too much, but I have found out
some things that might be important. But I must emphasize, Amy, I still don’t
know what the threat is that is mentioned in the unfinished letter, and I don’t
even have any theories.”
“What did you find out?” queried
Amy.
“I went to the offices of the
Bristol
Gazette
and spent almost an entire day examining every issue leading up to
the 20
th
of May, and every issue for several months after. In fact,
I well near went through the entire year. I had to do that because I don’t know
what we are looking for.”
“The
Gazette
must have been
sent to me for a reason,” said Amy. “There must be something important in it we
are just not seeing.”
“There has to be,” agreed Ben.
“Something that links to the ‘dangerous knowledge’ that you were going to
receive and never did.”
Amy could not forget the words of
that letter that ended so abruptly.
Dear Beloved Child, I have long
struggled over whether to write this letter. Having decided to do so, I now
find I must pen it with great urgency since the time is much shorter than I
expected. Yet I do so with trepidation. There are things you need to know, but
this knowledge could expose you to great danger, because there are those who
would not wish you to learn what I am about to reveal...
“As I mentioned when we first
looked at the Gazette, it is quite possible that something that looks as if it
has no significance might be of great importance, but since we have no way of
knowing what it might be, I had to look into the most obvious items. If only
your letter writer had been able to finish.”
Ben drew his notes closer and
looked at them intently.
“I tried to find all that I could
about the wine merchant who was attacked. I thought he might have no heirs, but
it turns out he had a sister in York. There just doesn’t seem to be anything
there. The death of the wealthy ship owner is of interest only because you said
your satchel was delivered by an elderly sailor.”
“I really don’t know if he was a
sailor. Effie and Mrs. Pemberton thought he might be a sailor because of his
attire.”
“Since we are the world’s foremost
maritime nation, sailors are not unusual, but we have to look at the most likely
possibilities. What else do we have to go on? We just don’t have many clues.”
“Do you think that it has some
connection with the items in my satchel? If he were wealthy, maybe someone has
a motive that might somehow put me in danger.”
Ben looked at her in a way that
made her uncomfortable. She felt as if he thought her comment was silly.
“He died twenty years ago, Amy. His
estate was settled a long time ago. Remember, the
Gazette
said his son
was with him when he died. The thought of somehow being an heiress to a fortune
might be appealing, but that only happens in certain novels of the less noble
kind.”
“Are you suggesting that I read
novels which are, as you put it, of the less noble kind?”
“No. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to
imply that,” replied Ben hastily.
“Good!’ said Amy triumphantly.
“Although, actually I have read one...or more of the novels you were referring
to, but only to find out what my sister might be reading. I am the eldest, and
mother is not up to it, so I do it...”
“We better get back to your little
mystery,” interrupted Ben.
“You’re right, but one more thing I
might add. Don’t tell my mother about the novels. It would trouble her. You
know how she is.”
“Your secret is safe with me,”
smiled Ben. “But I really don’t see anything about the ship-owner, tantalizing
as the idea may be, that is worth pursuing at this time. It seems like a dead
end.”
“You said you found out something I
need to know.”
“Yes. I could find nothing of
substance in the Gazette, but I knew there must be something there, so I
decided to use my intuition.”
“I didn’t know men had intuition,”
said Amy playfully, although she felt leaden inside.
“They don’t, but I’m a rare
exception,” said Ben with a grin. “Anyway, overlooking a rude interruption from
a charming young lady let me go on. I don’t wish to treat this lightly, because
it is all very sad.”
Amy felt she had been gently
chastised. She had tried to lighten the gravity of the situation. Perhaps it
had been ill-advised.
But I’m the one who has a dagger hanging over my head,
she thought,
he does not have a right to criticize.
But she said nothing
because she was very grateful for all of his work.
“I’m very curious about the
drowned captain,” continued Ben.
“He was the one whose coach fell in
the river, if I recall rightly. But how would a coach just fall in a river?”
“That’s an interesting question. I
haven’t seen the road where it occurred, but I understand it ran beside the
River Avon for a short distance and then crossed over the river on a narrow
bridge. We will have to take a look at the place later. But here’s the thing.
There also was a lawyer in that coach who drowned. The coach was a private
carriage not a public coach. So the captain was riding with a lawyer. Where
they were headed and where they were coming from, I could not find out. But if
it involved a lawyer it might be of interest.”
“So you think there is something
there?”
“Don’t get your hopes up too much,
but I think it is worth investigating. Unfortunately, the writer of the news
item only mentioned the coach in passing but did not say to whom it belonged. I
might be able to dig up that information but I haven’t been able to get that
far.”
“I really appreciate all you’ve
done, Ben, but is there some way we can find out more?”
It embarrassed her to ask the
question, but there was absolutely nothing she could do since she had to go
where her mother said. It bothered her that a young lady of her station could
not go and investigate a matter of this sort, whereas a man was free to roam as
he willed. Ben did not react to what she said. There seemed to be something
else on his mind.
“There is another thing that
bothers me,” said Ben with a frown, “and that’s the poor woman whose body
washed up on the beach with a baby wrapped against her in a baby blanket. If
you remember the article in the Gazette, there were at least two other people
in the coach. They were missing when the coach was pulled out of the river, and
the natural assumption was that they washed down the River Avon and out into
the Bristol Channel. The two were the captain’s wife and child.”
“Was the woman and baby who were
found on the beach the captain’s wife and child?”
“They don’t really know. They were
found some time after the coach plunged into the river and the bodies were in a
bad condition.”
“Couldn’t they tell from the
clothes?”
“The woman appeared to be wearing
ordinary garments but they were also in bad condition. As far as I can tell, no
one who knew the captain’s wife saw the bodies. But since there were no other
reports of a missing woman and baby, there is no doubt that they were the
captain’s wife and baby.”
“I don’t understand, Ben. Why would
this be of interest to me in my search? It seems like another dead end.”
“Not necessarily, Amy. I just have
a feeling there is something more to this. Something in the inner recesses of
my mind seems to feel there is more to find out. We don’t have much to work
with, so we have to run with what we do have, and I now know three things, the
name of the captain, the name of the lawyer, and the name of the church where
they are buried, so we’ll start with that.”
Amy was about to ask where they
were buried when the butler interrupted with an apology and announced that
lunch was served.
When Amy and Ben entered the dining
room, Johanna Wardsley, their hostess, was already seated at the table along
with Amy’s mother and father. Mrs. Charlotte Parkhurst was not present. She was
probably lying down with one of her alleged headaches. Mrs. Wardsley had not
been present when Ben had arrived earlier, and she had not come by the drawing
room to meet Ben who was in reality her guest. Amy had come to the conclusion
that Mrs. Wardsley was a very shy woman, even though she was warm and friendly
when she knew you. Amy was also certain her mother would have told Mrs. Wardsley
about Ben but had no idea what she might have said. Amy cringed at the thought.
Since her mother did not say anything she realized she had been delegated to
introduce Ben.
“Mrs. Wardsley, this is Sir
Benjamin Anstruther. He was visiting Bristol and decided to visit us here,
because he is our neighbor in Stockley-on-Arne.”
Mrs. Wardsley and Ben said all the
appropriate things that people say to one another on first acquaintance. Amy
paid no attention since she was irritated by the knowing smile on Mrs. Wardsley’s
face. She felt she knew what the woman was thinking.
She thinks Ben and I
have a romantic liaison. I wish I could tell her that we only have a sort of
business relationship over a matter of mutual interest. In actual fact, we do
not even like one another—much.
However Amy remained silent.
“I wish to thank you for your
hospitality in feeding me lunch,” said Ben to Mrs. Wardsley, and to Amy and Sir
Anthony and Lady Sibbridge he added, “I have to leave to return to Bristol
immediately after we finish lunch.”
“Will you not grace us with your
company a little longer, Sir Benjamin?” asked Lady Sibbridge.
“Sir Benjamin is investigating a
strange satchel I received,” said Amy.
She knew this would sound odd, but
didn’t quite know how to explain things to Mrs. Wardsley without saying too
much. The woman must wonder.
“It seems like it must have come
from...a distant relative of mine,” she added.
“Wouldn’t any relative of
yours also be a relative of your family,” asked Mrs. Wardsley with a frown.
“That’s true, Mrs. Wardsley, but
Amy’s especially curious about this relative,” Ben quickly interrupted. Then
directed at Amy, “I’m going to visit the gravesite tomorrow.”
Amy desperately wanted to see that
gravesite. She decided to take the initiative.
“Mother,” she said, “it is very
desirable that I also see that gravesite. I think I should be there. I am sure
you and father agree.”
Before her rather surprised mother
could answer, she turned to her father.
“Father that would be acceptable to
you, wouldn’t it.”
Her father just stared at her.
“Father! You will give me your
consent?”
She was sure she saw her father
give a little nod. Ben looked on in wonder.
“Mother, Father has just given his
consent. We need a chaperone. We should take Em...”
She was about to say Emma, but
realized her mother would never consent.
“Emma could come with us, and we
could take Mrs. Parkhurst.”
The thought of taking Mrs.
Parkhurst hurt, but Amy didn’t have any choice.
Her mother looked confused.
“Oh dear. Oh my. If Mrs. Parkhurst
approves. I don’t think she will be willing to go with you as a chaperone. She
hates to travel by coach.”
Ben looked uncertain. He started to
say that he was not sure it was a good idea for Amy to make the journey, but
before he could get it all out, Amy kicked him in the shin under the table.
This greatly surprised him, and since she had to stretch her foot so far, it
caused her to slip partly from her chair. This managed to get everyone’s
attention as she grabbed at the table with her left hand, and her chin only inches
from her food plate, still clutching her soup spoon in her right hand she tried
to grab the table with it only succeeding in flipping her soup bowl.
“I slipped,” she said turning a
bright red, as soup dripped onto her bosom.
This all had the unintended benefit
of distracting everyone from any further questions. She had another problem
though. Somehow she had to get Ben to agree to postpone his journey back to
Bristol. It was not easy, but in the end she was successful. Amy was not sure
how to ask Mrs. Wardsley to accept another guest, but in the end it was not
necessary. Ben had a number of acquaintances in Bath and he opted to spend the
night with one of them. He left just after five o’clock in the afternoon.
“I will be here tomorrow morning
about six,” he said to Amy as he was leaving.
“Ben” she asked, “are there any
chocolate houses in Bristol?”
He looked at her with curiosity.
“There are several establishments
in Bristol that serve chocolate.”
“Good,” she said with a satisfied
smile, and bid the puzzled Ben adieu.