The Captain's Mysterious Lady (8 page)

‘No, that is why my aunts brought me up.'

They had arrived back at the house and he accompanied her inside to tell the Misses Hardwick, over a glass of Rhenish wine, that he would like to take the Lodge. The rent was agreed and they were able to suggest someone as cook-house keeper and Harriet promised to speak to the woman herself. Then his horse was sent for and he bade them farewell and left them.

‘It will be good to have the Lodge occupied again,' Matilda said after the clatter of his horse's hooves faded from the cobbles of the yard. ‘And by such an amiable man. I am sure we will be able to rely on him when Cousin Gerald comes calling.'

‘What about Cousin Gerald? Why does he want you to move to the Lodge?' Amy asked, silently agreeing that the Captain was an amiable man. Unusually for someone who was used to a rough life at sea, he had shown himself to be gentle and considerate. He was not obliged to look after her after the accident, nor come calling to see how she did, even if he did have business in the neighbourhood, and that was a point in his favour. What was his business? She had stopped quizzing him when it became clear he did not like it, and to go on might shatter her illusion that he was her knight, if not exactly in shining armour, then in a good quality riding coat and a fine beaver hat.

‘Cousin Gerald has a bee in his bonnet,' Harriet told her. ‘It is all about our father's will. Papa inherited the estate from his father, which is as it should be, considering he was the eldest son. Gerald is the son of Papa's younger brother and, when our father had no sons, considered himself next in line. He was angry when he discovered the estate was not entailed and Papa could leave it to whom he liked and had bequeathed it to us. He has been contesting the validity of the will ever since.'

‘Do you think he can win?' Amy asked.

‘No. We have a very good lawyer and he is adamant Gerald has no case, but that does not stop him harassing us now and again in the hope that we will give in.'

‘But you will not?'

‘Certainly not! We are not going to give away your birth right,' Harriet said firmly.

‘Mine?'

‘Naturally yours. You are the only off spring of the three of us.'

‘I do hope Cousin Gerald does not cause trouble for Captain Drymore,' Amy said pensively.

Harriet laughed. ‘I am quite sure the Captain is able to look after himself. And us too should the need arise.'

Amy did not doubt it, but was it fair? Were her aunts or her mother, through Lord Trentham, using the man under the pretext of doing him a good turn? Was that his business in Highbeck, protecting the aunts from their cousin? She was not sure she liked being involved if that were the case. On the other hand she did not want him to leave. She told herself it was because he helped her to remember things, but deep down she knew that was only a part of it.

 

‘Staying here?' echoed Sam. ‘You mean it?'

‘Yes, I mean it. I am taking a house close by.'

‘But why? Smith and Randle ain't nowhere hereabouts,' Sam pro tested.

‘I know that. But there is a riddle to be solved and I mean to solve it,' James said decisively.

‘Very well, Captain.' It was said with a heavy sigh. ‘When do we move?'

‘Soon, but I have shopping to do first and staff to enlist. And I have a commission for you. I want you to go back to Colbridge House and gather up my belongings—clothes,
books, sword, pistols, anything I might need—and hire a wagon to bring them hither. Then see what you can find out about a certain Duncan Macdonald. He is reputed to be an artist.'

‘Mrs Macdonald's husband?'

‘Yes. Go to his house, I will furnish you with the direction, and search around. You might find a clue as to his whereabouts, but do not disturb anything more than you have to. Try the coffee houses frequented by his like, the clubs…'

‘I'll never get through the door of a gentleman's club, you know that,' Sam scoffed.

‘No, but there are plenty of clubs for the middling sort and I do not think Macdonald aspires to anything higher. I will give you letters to take to Lord Trentham and Mr Fielding, they might have news of him. And then put your ear to the ground for anything about Mr Gus Billings.'

‘Him that died in the coach?' Sam asked.

‘Yes. And those two highpads because he was known to them and I have a notion Mrs Macdonald knew them, too.'

‘And should I make further enquiries about the other two, Smith and Randle?'

‘Yes, naturally those two must not be for got ten. When you have discovered all you can, return to me here.'

‘I might be gone weeks—how will you manage without me?'

‘I am not old or helpless, Sam. I can see to myself.' He gave a sudden chuckle. ‘Until you send me more, I only have one change of linen, one spare coat and waist coat and a pair of shoes. And I do not wear a wig. I am not going to need a valet, am I?'

‘I ain't simply a valet,' Sam said, aggrieved.

‘No, indeed you are not, you are my helpmate and
friend. It is because of that I know I can trust you with this errand.'

Slightly mollified, Sam went off to order dinner for them, muttering about a pair of blue eyes turning his master's head. James heard him, but did not re prim and him. The man was a treasure and he did not know what he would do without him. But was he right? Should he have returned to London himself and pursued his enquiries there? What more could he learn about Duncan Macdonald or Gus Billings in Highbeck? On the face of it, very little, but if the lady remembered why she had fled or been forced from London, he wanted to be on hand to hear it. And though he decried wise women and their fanciful predictions, he could not help remembering what Widow Twitch had told Amy. Trials to come. And a death? Whose death? She surely did not mean Amy's; if she did, he was determined to prevent it and if that meant staying close by, then he would stay. Pair of blue eyes indeed!

He smiled to himself. Those eyes were lustrous, full of intelligence and humour when she was not worrying about her memory. But that was not all she had in her favour; there was a flawless skin and a lovely figure and thick fair hair that framed a perfect oval face. Not for her mountainous wigs, powder and rouge; you could not improve on what nature had endowed her with. He realised suddenly that he had not thought like that about a woman since Caroline had died—did it mean he was coming to accept what had happened? Certainly his obsession with finding Smith and Randle had been pushed to the back of his mind, if only temporarily. Was that a good thing or a betrayal of his wife?

Sam came back to tell him dinner was ready in the dining room and they went in together; Sam always ate with him except when James was in company or entertain
ing. They talked a little about Sam's enquiries in London and where he should go and then about what was needed to furnish the Lodge, some of which might be better bought in London and brought down on the wagon. After that he wrote the letters for Lord Trentham and Mr Fielding and the direction of the Macdonalds' London home in Henrietta Street. Not the address a gentleman would choose, but hadn't Lord Trentham said they might be in financial trouble? Poor Amy!

He ought not to be thinking of her in those terms. She had a husband, a husband she wanted found. Would finding him fill her with joy or disillusion her? More than ever he was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery and that meant spending time in her company, which would be no hardship. He would buy a light carriage and suggest she accompany him to shop for things he needed for the house.

 

He bought a gig and a pony the very next day, taking the coach into Ely and driving his purchase back himself. He was pulling into the yard of the King's Arms when he saw Amy with a basket on her arm. He jumped down to greet her, sweeping off his hat and bowing.

‘What have you got there?' she asked, nodding towards the carriage. ‘It looks very smart.'

‘I am glad you think so. I could not live in the Lodge without a vehicle, could I? I must be able to go out and about, shopping and making calls.'

‘Making calls?' she asked with a smile. ‘Have you made calling acquaintances already?'

‘Yes, the ladies of the Manor are all charming and welcoming. When I am settled in I hope they will call on me.' He paused. ‘Mrs Macdonald, I have a favour to ask of you.'

‘Then ask it, Captain. If it is in my power it shall be granted,' she said.

‘Oh, it is in your power. I would like you to help me furnish the Lodge. I have no idea what I require and it needs a lady's touch. Would you do that?'

‘Gladly.'

‘Then will you accompany me to Downham Market tomorrow to do some shopping?' James asked.

‘In the gig?'

‘Yes. I shall drive carefully, I promise.'

She laughed. ‘How can I refuse? I shall be de lighted.'

 

They parted on that note and she returned to tell the aunts of the en counter. ‘Will you help me to draw up a list of things the Captain will need for the Lodge?' she asked.

‘Yes, but you ought to have a chaperon,' Harriet said thoughtfully. ‘Susan, perhaps…'

‘But it is only a gig, there is hardly room for three people without a squeeze. And surely I will come to no harm in the Captain's company,' Amy pro tested.

‘I am sure you will not, but it is improper—'

‘I think it is too late to worry about the proprieties. Was I not travelling in that public coach with a man I did not know?'

‘Perhaps you did know him,' Harriet pointed out.

‘Even if I did, I did not have a chaperon. If you insist, the Captain will think you do not trust him and that after he saved me from death…'

‘Saved you from death! How is that? You were not dying,' her aunt exclaimed.

‘I might have been if he had not picked me up and ridden with me to safety,' Amy insisted.

Matilda laughed at this exchange. ‘Harriet, let the child go. She will come to no harm.'

‘And you are as bad as she is,' her sister rounded on her. ‘Filling her head with romantic nonsense. Do not think I do not know you sent her to Granny Twitch. And I'll wager the woman did not have a word to say about Duncan, but filled her head with nonsense about handsome men and pots of gold.'

Amy found herself laughing aloud and the aunts soon joined in and the matter of the chaperon was for got ten as she told them exactly what the old lady had said. ‘What did I tell you?' Aunt Harriet said. ‘Nothing but nonsense.'

Amy hugged them both. ‘When shall we make the shopping list? Do you think it matters about how much he has to pay for things?'

‘No, of course not, but let us have dinner first. We can do it after that.'

 

When James arrived next day, driving the gig up to the front door, Amy was ready with a comprehensive list in her reticule. He jumped down to help her up, then returned to his seat to pick up the reins. ‘Do you know the way?' he asked.

‘Oh, yes,' she said, then stopped in confusion. ‘How do I know I do?'

‘I expect it is part of your early memory, before you went to London,' he said, as they trotted along the short drive. ‘And we have already decided that is returning. Quite quickly, it seems.'

‘Yes, you are right. Now, go to the village and turn right at the cross roads. The road is straight from there.'

The weather was perfect as they bowled along at a steady pace. James was in no hurry; he could think of no more enjoyable way to spend a day than to be with
the lovely young lady who sat beside him, pointing out land marks, wind mills and churches, the river side staithes and brown-sailed wherries, and chatting cheerfully about the countryside and the items that he would need to make the Lodge comfortable. He was determined to make it a pleasant day for her and set aside the troublesome matter of a lost memory. He was of the opinion it would come back when she was relaxed and not trying to force it.

Amy felt entirely at ease with him. And that surprised her. Somewhere in the back of her mind was the thought that she had not always felt comfortable with menfolk. Today, she was not going to tease her memory, but enjoy the day in company with this enigmatic man. Honest and open though he appeared to be, there was something he was holding back, and that was undoubtedly the nature of his business in the area. One day, perhaps, he might tell her of it, but she did not intend to spoil their time together by asking about it. Gradually the tight knot that always seemed to be in her stomach relaxed its hold on her.

‘I think we can safely leave buying the kitchen equipment to Mrs Landis,' she told him. Mrs Landis was the woman Aunt Harriet had recommended as cook-house-keeper and James had been pleased to take her on. She would already be at work at the Lodge, directing the two cleaning women who had also been employed. By the time they returned from their expedition, they expected to find a marked improvement in the state of the house. ‘We will concentrate on the parlour and the bedrooms.'

‘I am in your hands.'

‘Aunt Harriet told me the hangings were taken down and stored at the Manor, and they should be in good condition, so a few rugs, a sofa or two, a cupboard, one or two small tables, a clock, a few pictures and ornaments. A bookcase, perhaps, though without books…'

‘My man will send my books with my other belongings,' he said.

‘And in the bedrooms, a chest, some drawers and a dressing table in each. Will you be content with the bedsteads that are there?'

‘Yes. They will suit me well enough, but I shall need bedding.'

‘It is quite a long list. I doubt we shall manage it all today.'

‘No matter, there will be other days.'

She liked the idea of going out with him again and helping him to make a comfortable home of the Lodge. It made her feel useful and helped to fill days that sometimes seemed empty. Above all, she appreciated his company. He seemed to know when to talk and when she would rather not, when to laugh and tease and when to be serious, and she wanted to learn more about him. In spite of his amiability, he still managed to keep many things to himself. Was he simply a retiring man or was there some reason for it? Of course, if Duncan turned up she would have to devote her time to him. Would she know him? But she had promised herself not to worry about her lost memory today and thrust the thought from her. ‘You must tell me if I am dipping too deeply into your purse.'