The Captain's Mysterious Lady (13 page)

‘The lodge?' One eyebrow was raised in enquiry towards James.

‘Yes, the Lodge on the Manor estate.'

‘Ah, I collect seeing you as I was leaving the Manor this afternoon.'

‘Yes.' Now they were closing in on the crux of James's concern. ‘I fear you left the ladies in disarray.'

‘Not intended, sir, not intended. I thought felicitations from her husband would please Mrs Macdonald.'

‘When and where did you meet him?'

Gotobed looked sharply at him, making James wonder if he had been a little too direct and that was borne out when the man said, ‘And what is your interest in the affair, sir?'

‘I am a friend of the family and charged with looking out for the ladies, particularly Mrs Macdonald.'

‘Aah.' There was a deal of insinuation in that short exclamation.

James ignored it. ‘Where is her husband?'

Gotobed shrugged. ‘Under the cold earth by now, I shouldn't wonder.'

‘Dead?' His heart missed a beat and then settled again sufficiently for him to go on listening, but his head was buzzing. Could it be true? And what did it signify? To his shame and consternation his first reaction was relief that Amy was free of the encumbrance of a husband whom he had never met, but had no high opinion of, but that was followed by another thought. If the man had died of his injuries, who had inflicted them?

‘He was mortally wounded,' Gotobed revealed.

‘By whom?' James asked.

Again a shrug. ‘Who knows? He did not say.'

‘But he did name his wife to you.'

‘Yes. Lying side by side in an infirmary with nothing to occupy us, it is not surprising we exchanged confidences, is it?'

‘But not enough for him to tell you who had wounded him.'

‘I did not press him.'

‘But he did send his devotion to his wife.'

Gotobed laughed. ‘No, but I thought it would please her.'

James's spirits sank. The more the man said, the more worried he became. Macdonald had evidently said enough for the man to locate Amy but why would he want to? What else had Macdonald told him? Was Gotobed a real stranger to Amy, or had she met him before and for got ten it?

James finished his ale, said good night to the company and walked back to the Lodge, with a full moon lighting his way. He had discovered nothing about what had happened to Amy before she boarded that coach. What he
had
learned was that for some reason as yet unknown it was important for Gotobed to get close to her. And not only Gotobed—there were those two who had been stalking her. James had not seen them, but it did not mean they did not exist. Nor could he be sure her husband was dead as Gotobed had claimed. If Sam did not come back soon, he would have to go to London and find out for himself.

 

He returned to the Manor next morning, far earlier than would be deemed correct for a social call, but he reminded himself, with a wry smile, of Miss Hardwick's stricture that he was being employed to do a job and if he adhered to that premise it did not matter what time he called.

He was admitted by Johnson and immediately conducted to the small parlour at the back of the house where Amy was sitting alone. She had her sketch book on her knee and a charcoal crayon in her hand, but did not appear to be using it. Did not appear to hear his entrance either, for
she jumped when he gave a discreet cough. ‘Oh, Captain, you startled me.'

‘I beg your pardon.' He bowed. ‘If you do not wish to be disturbed, I will go away again.'

‘I am thoroughly disturbed already, Captain. You do not make it worse. Please be seated.'

‘I understand.' He found a chair and brought it up close to hers and sat down. ‘You are finishing my picture, I see.'

‘Yes, but I wonder that you still want it, after what happened yesterday.'

‘What has yesterday to do with that?' He nodded towards the picture. The cherub, round faced, smiling as he had done when given the sixpence, was the image of Joe Potton. The wings that sprouted from his shoulders blended into the cloud that surrounded it.

‘Oh, everything, I should think. One malicious cloud and one benign, watching over what we do. I think the malicious one is in the ascendancy.'

‘Surely not?' James said gently.

‘I had such a shock yesterday…' She trailed off a little tremulously.

‘I know. Has it helped you to remember?'

‘No. But I cannot think otherwise than my night mare was memory, brought to me in my sleep. Mr Gotobed as good as confirmed it.'

‘But you cannot be sure, can you?'

She smiled, though it was a little wan. ‘Bless you, Captain, for wanting to believe the best of me, as my aunts do, but we cannot escape from the truth that I may have—no, almost certainly did—take a knife to my husband. I keep asking myself why, what made me do it? And how badly was he hurt? Mr Gotobed did not say.'

‘I should not believe everything he says, you know.'

‘Have you spoken to him? What did he say?' she asked eagerly.

He hesitated. ‘I am persuaded he did not know your husband well, they were simply side by side in the infirmary and talked for want of something better to do. As to why he is in Highbeck now, I have yet to discover.'

‘You would do better to wash your hands of me, Captain, and go back to the business that brought you to Highbeck,' she said with a sudden flash of spirit.

She
was
the business that had brought him to Highbeck. He had been commissioned by Lord Trentham to find out what he could, but that was not the only reason he stayed. It was Amy herself. Not since his wife's untimely death had he felt so at peace with himself and he had been thinking that Amy and the tranquillity of the countryside were weaving some kind of magic. He supposed it was because of that he had never told her what had brought him to Blackfen Manor in the first place. She would not have been so easy with him, so confiding, such a delightful companion if she had known his real errand was to uncover the mystery of her forgetfulness. Mr Martin Gotobed had brought it back to him with a vengeance.

‘I perceive from your silence that you agree,' she said, manfully holding back tears. If he could believe her guilty, then what hope had she?

‘Not at all. I was simply trying to make sense of everything.'

‘And have you succeeded?'

‘No. There are too many unanswered questions.'

‘Do you know what I think? I think Mr Gotobed is a thief taker come to take me to a justice. When he calls again, I shall surrender myself to him.'

‘You will do no such thing!' He had raised his voice, making her start back in surprise. He moderated his tone.
‘God knows there is a mystery here, but it does not call for such drastic measures. He does not look like a man from the judiciary to me.'

‘What do they look like? I cannot believe they are all rough looking. Sometimes they must be able to pass themselves off as gentlemen in order to do their work.' She gave a little laugh, though there was no humour in it. ‘Why, you might be one yourself.'

This was too close for comfort. ‘Do you really believe that?' he asked with a frown.

‘No, of course I do not. Are you not known to Lord Trentham, who is an old friend of the family? Besides, would you have spent weeks in Highbeck, when you could just as easily have arrested me the first day you arrived?'

‘Thank you for that,' he said drily.

‘It does not change anything. I must talk to Mr Gotobed. He is my only link with my husband. He has spoken to Duncan since I last saw him and I must know more, even if it means I learn something not to my credit and am arrested.'

‘Amy, will you cease this talk of being arrested! There is no proof, no evidence at all, that you have done anything wrong.' He could not let Amy put herself in jeopardy by letting Gotobed see how vulnerable she was. And perhaps if James pressed him a little harder, he might be more forthcoming.

‘No, you must not do anything so foolish,' he reiterated, then rose to take his leave, just as Aunt Matilda came into the room.

‘Captain, I did not know you had arrived. How do you find our Amy?'

‘Much recovered, but still not quite herself.'

‘I do not know who myself is,' she cried. ‘Nor what manner of person I am.'

‘Ah, but we do, we know you very well,' her aunt said. ‘You are goodness itself, a lovely, talented, caring person who would not harm a fly. Is that not so, Captain?'

‘It is indeed,' he said, bowing, then turned to Amy. ‘If it is not too much for you, perhaps you will go riding with me tomorrow, Mrs Macdonald.'

‘The air and exercise will do you good,' Matilda said, when she hesitated. ‘Sitting at home brooding will only make you feel worse.'

Amy forced the semblance of a smile to her face. Everyone was so kind to her and perhaps a ride, especially with the Captain, would invigorate her and calm her at the same time. ‘Very well. I shall be pleased to ride with you, Captain. Will eleven o'clock be convenient?'

‘Perfectly convenient.'

She pulled the drawing from her sketch book and offered it to him. ‘Do you still want this?'

‘Indeed I do.' He took it and bowed his way out.

‘We are so lucky to have him to look after us,' Aunt Matilda said after he had gone. ‘He has proved himself to be a very worthy friend. Do you not agree, Amy?'

‘Yes,' she said, wishing she had not accused him of being a thief taker. She had said it without thinking, but it had angered him. It was all because of Mr Martin Gotobed. She had almost given up expecting to remember what had happened before she came back to Highbeck, had simply been enjoying the company of the Captain, conveniently forgetting that she was married and should not be doing so. Then she had had that frightening dream, which had put doubts into her head, and hard on the heels of that came Mr Gotobed with his revelations. She had been living in a
fool's paradise, condoned—no encouraged—by her aunts and it was time she woke up to the truth.

 

Next morning, she packed a basket with food left over from the previous night's meal and set off to visit the poor in the village, as she often did, forgetting she was supposed to have an escort when she went out. She felt more than usually nervous and it was the presence of those two rough men and Mr Gotobed in the village that was to blame. If she saw any of them again, she would not run or faint, she would confront them and demand to know what they wanted of her. She was unsure whether to be glad or sorry when she completed her errand without meeting them.

Perhaps the Captain had discovered something. It was strange how she had come to rely on him so heavily. It was as if she had always known him, that he had always been in her life, protecting her, even though she had been assured that was not so. She looked forward to his visits, the little outings they had. He helped her to forget that she was trying to remember. Until someone like Mr Gotobed came along and upset everything, reminding her she had a husband and should not be spending so much time in the Captain's company. She did not
feel
married. It was one more wickedness to add to what she believed she had already done and must never be spoken of aloud. She was turning into the drive of the Manor on the way home, when she found herself face to face with Martin Gotobed.

He was as flamboyantly dressed as he had been the day before, though today he was in pink-and-yellow stripes. He swept her a bow. ‘Mrs Macdonald, your obedient.'

Was such a greeting normal for a thief taker about to arrest a suspect, she wondered, or was he trying to put her at her ease in order to wrest a confession from her? Her heart began to beat faster. ‘Mr Gotobed, how do you
do? Were you about to visit us and tell us more about my husband?'

‘No, for I know no more. I was coming to warn you…'

She gasped. ‘Warn me?'

‘Yes. It pains me to say this, but Captain Drymore is not the friend you think he is.'

This was the last thing she had expected to hear. ‘Mr Gotobed, it is not courteous in you to speak of a gentleman behind his back in that fashion.'

‘I would say it to his face if he were here. Indeed, I had hoped he might be, then you might see for yourself how he received the news that I am on to him.'

‘On to him? Mr Gotobed, you are talking in riddles. Pray, explain yourself.'

‘That is my intention.' He bowed again before going on. ‘Captain James Drymore has been paid by the judiciary to find and arrest your husband. I have it on the best authority.'

‘He's a thief taker?' she whispered, trying not to let him see she was shaking with emotion at hearing this.

‘Nothing so straight for ward. He is an under cover agent, a man who does his work in secret, worming his way into people's lives to be made free with their confidences, in order to find his evidence. And if he does not find it, he is not above fabricating it and taking up an innocent man and hauling him before a magistrate in order to claim a reward.'

‘That is nonsense. I do not believe you,' she said shakily.

‘Your disbelief is natural, but it only shows how clever he is.'

‘And what is my husband supposed to have done?'

‘Ask the Captain.'

‘Mr Gotobed, I am afraid I do not have time to stand and listen to this. I am engaged to go out and am in some haste.' She made herself sound as haughty as she could.

‘Very well, I will leave you, but you will discover I am right and when that happens I beg you to remember I came in friend ship and would help you if I could.' And on that enigmatic note, he turned on his heel.

It was only after he had gone, bowing and smiling his oily smile, that she realised she had not asked him why he thought the Captain was intent on arresting her husband and not
her.
And that was because what he had told her had driven every other thought out of her head. Captain James Drymore, son of an earl, a thief taker? It beggared belief. The truth was she did not want to believe it. But supposing, just supposing, it were true? How did she know he was who he said he was? He had come to Highbeck armed with a letter from Lord Trentham, but that could have been a forgery. And there was that incident in Ely. Without a moment's hesitation, he had grabbed that boy when others might have stood aside and let him make his escape, and would have handed him over to the judiciary if she had not intervened. Then he had complained she was making him soft, as if that were something of which to be ashamed. Thieftaker or no?