To Marry a Duke (15 page)

‘If you would wait, I shall write
my letters then you can arrange for them to be sent.’ She scanned the room but
even in the light of a dozen candles she could not see a writing desk.
‘Botheration! There is no stationery here. I shall have to send down for some.’

‘I will fetch what you need, my
lady. It will save time.’

The door closed behind him
leaving Allegra alone. The appetising aroma from the soup sent her into the
bedchamber in search of water to wash. She was surprised how heavy the jug of
water was to pour out and how difficult to keep it in the bowl.

As she washed she glanced round
the room - the beamed ceiling was low, she doubted Jago could stand upright
without the hitting his head. But, like the other rooms, it was immaculate and
the bed linen smelled of lavender

Pleased she could sleep without
fear of being eaten
alive,
she dried her hands and
neatly folded the cotton square she had used. Now she felt ready to tackle the
supper tray deciding she would eat before writing her notes.

She was spooning up the last of
the savoury soup when Thomas returned with her writing materials. ‘The horses
are stabled, my lady, and there’s a fine supper waiting in the snug downstairs.
I told Billy to eat before he leaves.’

‘Good - and you have beds for the
night, I hope?’

‘We do, a back room behind the
stables, and we don’t have to share with anyone else either.’

‘You have been a great help,
Thomas. Go and have your meal, it will take me a while to compose these
letters.’

Allegra trimmed the quill and
uncorked the lumpy ink. They were not what she was used to but would serve her
purpose. She penned a note to Abbot, asking her to return with Perkins and
bring sufficient clothing for all of them for a short stay. She instructed them
to travel by post, that way they could be at the hostelry where they were
staying by morning.

Next she wrote to Richard, after
all he was Demelza’s betrothed. He was fully recovered from his accident and
quite able to travel to London if he wished to do so. Whether he was ready to
expose his face to the gaze of the public was another matter.

She folded the letters, melting a
blob of wax to seal them then pressing her crested ring into each. They needed
to be sent on their way directly. She had heard the mail coach depart noisily a
few moments ago so the inn would be less busy.

She decided not to wait for
Thomas to return to collect the letters. She would take
them
downstairs herself. It would only take a minute or two to speak to the
landlady, ask her to find two members of her staff who were willing to
undertake the arduous journey.

Finding her way back to the
entrance hall was
simple,
all she had to do was follow
the din coming from the bar. With her candlestick held aloft, and her skirt and
lifted high in the other hand, she descended the winding wooden stairs.

The landlady greeted her
appearance with dismay. ‘My lady, you should not have ventured down here alone,
we have a party of gentlemen recently returned from a cock-fight and I’m sorry
to say they are a trifle disguised.’

So the raucous laughter that had
directed her to the vestibule came from them. ‘I shall be quick. I would like
these letters delivered. This one, to Brook Street, is urgent, and I should
like someone to take it immediately. They can travel post. The other is not
quite so urgent. I have the requisite coins here to pay for both.

‘My lady I don’t have two lads to
spare. Can you not send one of your grooms with the second?’

‘Very well, have your man go to
Brook Street; I shall organize the other.’ Allegra dropped some coins into the
woman’s outstretched hand and turned, intending to retreat before she could be
accosted.

She was too late. ‘Good heavens,
Lady Allegra, what are you doing in this benighted place?’

‘Captain Pledger! What a
surprise.’ She was aware of the anxiety of the landlady, hovering behind her.
‘It is all right, I am well acquainted with this gentleman,
he
is a close friend of my brother, the Duke of Colchester.’

‘We cannot converse here, my
lady. It’s too public.’ Captain Pledger turned to the landlady. ‘Do you have a
private parlour we could use for a moment?’

‘No, sir, we don’t, we’re that
full tonight,
they’re
all in use.’

‘Captain Pledger, I have a
parlour, come upstairs with me, for there are things I must tell you.’

Ignoring the scandalized snort
from the landlady she led the way back upstairs. She must put her enmity aside.
Captain Pledger’s arrival at the White Hart was a godsend. He could take the
letter to Richard and accompany him back. The captain was a soldier, he would
be ideal to watch over her twin.

She led the way back upstairs to
her sitting-room ‘I must begin by apologizing for my treatment of you when we
last met, Captain Pledger.’

He bowed, his expression hidden
from her. ‘It’s already forgiven and forgotten, my lady. I fear that
something’s amiss. How can I be of assistance?’

Hurriedly she related the events
of the past few days. He was suitably appalled by it all.

‘I shall be delighted to take the
note to Richard, Lady Allegra. I’m quite prepared to ride all night.’

‘Thank you for the offer, but the
matter is not urgent. If you take the next mail coach, I believe they leave
from here twice a
day, that
will get you there soon
enough.’

‘I would prefer to ride. I have
my horse with me; he has been resting for several hours and is fit enough to
take me half the distance. I can hire a nag for the second part of the journey
and collect my mount on the return.’

‘If you are going to leave at
once, you will, no doubt, see Mr Tremayne waiting by the side of the road.
Would you be so kind as to tell him we have arrived safely, that Billy is on
his way and we are awaiting the arrival of a doctor for Miss Tremayne?’ Allegra
hesitated. Should she offer to fund his journey, or would he be offended.

‘I’ll be glad to leave my friends
in the bar, we won a small fortune between us, and they are determined to drink
their share away.’

‘Then I shall thank you again,
Captain Pledger, and look to see you in Brook Street with Richard in due
course.’

He bowed again and only then did
she realize the parlour door was shut. She frowned how could he have been so
foolish? Far too late to point out his lack of thought, any damage to her
reputation was done.

She peered up and down the
passageway and was relieved to discover it empty. She had been closeted with
him for scarcely ten minutes, even if the matter had been noticed this was
hardly long enough to constitute a serious breach of etiquette.

She must see how Demelza did. As
far she was aware the doctor had not arrived. Unwilling to risk further
indiscretion she went to the bell-cord and pulled it vigorously. This time she
would get a maid servant to escort her.

Allegra took turns with Miss Murrell to cool Demelza’s
burning face. Jenny replenished both water jugs ‘It is more than an hour since
we arrived, why
has the doctor
not attended us?’

‘I’m sure he will be here soon,
my lady.’ No sooner had Miss Murrell spoken then they both heard the sound of
voices and footsteps approaching down the uncarpeted passageway. ‘This could be
him coming this very minute. Jenny, let him in at once.’

Doctor Canning examined his
patient. ‘It is a flesh wound, but deep and requires a suture or two.’

Miss Murrell acted as his
assistant and the job was completed efficiently. Demelza hardly stirred even
when the doctor cleansed the injury with brandy.

‘Why is she so hot, Doctor
Canning? I thought fever did not set in until the next day.’

He completed his ablutions before
replying. ‘My lady, Miss Tremayne lost a lot of blood and the long carriage
ride did not improve matters. However, I don’t believe her life to be in any
danger at the moment. Keep sponging her down, keep her cool, and get as much
boiled water down her as you are able.’

‘Thank you, Doctor Canning. Do
you have any idea how long we shall be obliged to remain here?’

‘It depends how Miss Tremayne is
in the morning. But even if her fever abates, I doubt she will be well enough
to travel for a day or two.’

The maid servant, who had waited
outside, came in to remove the soiled cloths and water. ‘Will you be requiring
anything else, my lady?’

Allegra shook her head. ‘No, that
will be all, thank you.’ She turned to Miss Murrell. ‘Have you had any supper?’

‘No, my dear.
I should have asked the girl to bring me up a tray. I suspect the kitchen will
be closed now, for
it’s
past
nine o’clock.’

‘There is a tray in my room, the
broth will be cold, but there is bread and cheese and apple pie.

You go and eat; we can take care of Demelza in your
absence.’

As the door closed softly behind
her companion Allegra belatedly realized she had neglected to tell her about
the meeting with Captain Pledger. She would tell her when she returned. She
rubbed her eyes - she was so tired - it been a long and difficult day. Perhaps
if she splashed her face with cold water before returning to her vigil by the
bed she would feel more able to cope.

Chapter
Fifteen

The fire flickered and snapped
loudly, making John
jerk
. ‘Steady, lad, it’s a twig.
There’s no one but
ourselves
out here.’

‘Sorry, sir, I’m a mite jumpy. It’s not every day you get to
share a fire with a corpse.’

Jago drew his legs under him and stood up, walking to the
centre of the lane. ‘Listen, can you hear anything?’

‘I can, sir. I reckon a carriage is coming. We’ll see the
lights when it rounds the bend.’

‘Hand me my jacket, John. I need to tidy myself up or the
driver will think we’re the bandits.’ His cravat, long past recovery, had been
discarded earlier, but served as a polishing cloth for his boots. ‘I need a
shave but it’s so dark I must hope no one will notice.’

‘Shall I light our lantern, now, sir?’

Jago nodded. ‘Yes, stand in the centre of the road and swing
it slowly, give them warning of our presence.’

They stood side-by-side, John holding up the lantern as the
smart equipage drew nearer.
Ithalted
within hailing distance, but out of range.

‘I am Jago Tremayne. This is my groom. We were set upon
earlier and have remained behind guarding the remains of one of the attackers.’
His words carried clearly to the stationary vehicle. His explanation was
accepted and the carriage rolled forward, the four horses pulling it snorting
and stamping at the delay.

He remained where he was, giving the occupants of the coach
time to study him more clearly, be sure he was a gentleman; that this was not a
clever ploy to ambush them.

The groom on the box jumped down and ran round to open the
door and lower the steps. Jago watched, hoping there were no ladies present. A
tall man, of middle years, his evening coat straining across his chest,
descended and strode confidently towards him.

‘Sir Bertram Davies, at your service; this is a bad
business. I hoped I’d cleared the bastards from these parts last week.’ He
pumped Jago’s outstretched hand. ‘Show me that cadaver, Mr Tremayne, let me see
if I recognize him.’

In the light of four lanterns Sir Bertram stared down at the
corpse. ‘This is no regular footpad, sir.’

‘I had come to the same conclusion. I fear the ambush was
premeditated. When my daughter was shot it was a deliberate act. They were not
after me, but either Demelza, or my future wife, Lady Allegra Humphry.’

Sir Bertram nudged the corpse with his boot. ‘Well, we will
discover nothing new out here, it is far too dark.’ He shouted over his
shoulder. ‘Bring a blanket from inside the coach; we have a body to wrap up.’

Ten minutes later they were ready to depart. John was
travelling on the step at the rear with strict instructions to look out for the
cart coming to fetch them. Inside, the blanket shrouded shape lolled in one corner,
Jago and Sir Bertram, sitting on the opposite side, ignored their macabre
companion.

‘I am the magistrate in this region. My militia flushed out
the vermin last week. We have five fine specimens waiting for the gallows.’ The
older man was all but invisible in the darkness. ‘However, I can assure you
none of them looked like that one over there.’

‘In the hour or so I have been sitting by the roadside I’ve
considered every possible reason there could be for someone wishing to kill a
member of my family and am no nearer a solution.’

Sir Bertram delved in his jacket pocket and pulled out the
silvery flask and offered it to him.

‘Here, sir, you must be in need of
some refreshment.
It’s
French cognac - although I
should not own to having it, I suppose.’

Jago swallowed several mouthfuls of the fiery liquor. ‘Thank
you. That’s exactly what I needed. Of course, a simpler explanation could be
that this was a case of mistaken identity. We were stopped in error, and in the
darkness the attackers took us for someone else.’

‘I have a third suggestion for you, Mr Tremayne.
A possible answer to this conundrum.
But it

is
possible
you might not like my idea.’

‘I wish to hear it, nevertheless, Sir Bertram.’

‘In my experience when a female is targeted there’s a
jealous lover involved in the perfidy somewhere.’

Jago’s jaw hardened. He drew breath to deliver a pithy
response but something held it back. Allegra had no lovers, jealous or
otherwise, but he had. Camille hadn’t taken her dismissal kindly and had,
according to his messenger, made wild threats and threatened to get revenge. At
the time he had dismissed the tale as of no importance, but had he been wrong
to do so?

‘I think it’s just possible you might be correct, sir. There
is someone in my past that made threats when I ended the liaison. I’ll
investigate the matter further when I return to Town.’

‘Good man!
Cherchez la
femme
! I’ll leave the matter in your hands. What do you wish me to do with
the body?’

‘Nothing.
I’ll take it with me. I
wish to examine it more carefully in daylight. There might be something
secreted in a pocket somewhere.’

‘Take it, sir; send the corpse on to me when you’ve finished
with it.’

The sound of a horse galloping towards them interrupted
their conversation. From the open window Jago caught a glimpse of a man,
crouched over the withers of a powerful beast, and then he was gone, the hoof
beats fading into the night.

‘Good God! He was in a deal of a hurry,’ Sir Bertram
exclaimed. ‘He’ll break his neck if he takes the next stretch at that speed;
it’s full of potholes.’

A while later John called from his vantage point behind the
coach. ‘I can see lights approaching, Mr Tremayne. I reckon
it’s
Billy with a cart.’

The moonlight illuminated the road ahead which was no longer
obscured by the dense thickets

of
Feathers
Wood. The carriage rattled to stop and the far door opened. Billy put his head
in.

‘Mr Tremayne, sir; Lady Allegra’s safe at the White Hart,
Romford. Do you want John and
me

to
take
this with us in the cart?’

‘An excellent
idea.
Are we far from the inn?’

‘In this coach, about fifteen minutes, no longer, sir.’

John and Billy rolled the body through the door and then the
steps were folded back and the door slammed shut.

Jago broke the silence a few minutes later. ‘Do you have far
to travel tonight, Sir Bertram?’

‘No, I live a mile away from the White Hart. I shall be snug
in my bed shortly after you, sir. I intend to make enquiries locally tomorrow.
It’s possible the two wounded men were seen by someone. If I discover anything,
I have your direction and shall send up to you.’

‘You have been most kind, sir. I
doubt there are many men prepared to share their carriage with such an object.’

The carriage halted outside the entrance to the yard of the
coaching inn and Jago jumped out. He was anxious to get inside see how his
ladies did. Sir Bertram had assumed the dead man had been killed by himself, or
one of the grooms, and he had not told him otherwise. As far as he was
concerned the fewer people who knew about Allegra’s involvement the better.

Demelza’s injury was easy to treat, but the damage to
Allegra might be far harder to cure. She had suffered too many shocks recently
and her mental state was fragile. Her temporary collapse, only a few days since
had demonstrated that.

He strode into the White Hart to find the vestibule empty.
He could hear there was a drunken party in the public bar and had no intention
of investigating there. He rang the bell impatiently. In the quiet his stomach
rumbled loudly reminding him he had not eaten.

The door opened behind the counter and a man appeared,
wiping his hands on his leather apron. ‘Good evening, sir. Are you by any
chance, Mr Tremayne?’

‘I am. I hope you have a room for me.’

‘I do, sir; I’ve taken the liberty of sending up a tray for you.
I expected you might be sharp set and the kitchen is now closed until the
morning.’

‘Thank you. I should like to visit my daughter before I
retire. Could you have someone conduct me to her rooms?’

Jago tapped softly on the outer door a potboy had led him
to. Miss Murrell opened it and her face lit up. ‘Good evening, sir. I am so
glad you have arrived safely.’

‘How is Demelza? What did the doctor say?’

‘She has a fever, but it is less than it was. Dr Canning
assured us that she’s in no danger.

Come along through, Mr Tremayne, but
I warn you, she’s sound asleep.’

Having seen his daughter was comfortable and well attended
he
was eager to find his own chambers. The waiting potboy
took him back through the maze of narrow passageways.

‘This is yours, sir. You ain’t got a parlour, I’m afraid.
Her ladyship’s next door, but she’s retired. There’s no light showing beneath
her parlour door.’

The boy entered first, holding the candlestick aloft and
from it he lit several candles before departing. Jago decided the chamber was
adequate, he had slept in far worse over the years. If the supper he saw hiding
under clean white cloth was half as good he would be satisfied.

He tumbled onto his bed fully clothed, too fatigued to
remove more than his jacket and boots.

He was instantly asleep. He had
discovered years ago that however dire the circumstances things would be easier
to deal with after a good night’s sleep.

*

Allegra heard him arrive, his deep baritone was unmistakable
and the walls were thin. She had been sitting in the dark, in her parlour
listening for his footsteps. She wished he had knocked on her door, come to see
her, but he must have seen there was no light and decided it would be
indelicate to disturb her once she was in her bedchamber.

No matter, she was comforted knowing he was so close, within
earshot. Now she was ready to retire. She had left the curtains undrawn and the
moonlight flooding in through the windows was sufficient to light her to bed.
She removed her grimy travelling dress and tossed it onto the floor in disgust.
No amount of sponging would restore it sufficiently to make it wearable. She
smiled. If her maid did not arrive by morning, and she was not prepared to
remain in her chemise, she would have to put the soiled gown back on.

She said her prayers before slipping between the sweet
smelling sheets. The Lord must be tired of hearing from her. She seemed to have
been in constant communication over the past few days. The banging and
clattering in the yard gradually subsided and she fell asleep.

Her dreams were troubled. She was running, trying
desperately to find somewhere to hide, but every time she found sanctuary
behind a tree the unseen dangers multiplied. Finally she burst into a clearing
to be met by a barrage of gunfire.

Men who had holes in their chests, men with half their faces
missing and one eye socket gaping bloodily, lurched towards her with smoking
guns in their hands. She was surrounded by

these
monsters. There was no escape. She screamed, again and again.

*

From his bedroom Jago heard her screams and fearing the
worst he grabbed his pistol and hurtled from the room. Her parlour door was
locked. Without hesitation he stepped back and raising his foot, prepared to
attack the door.

A hand dropped on his shoulder. ‘You have no boots on, man.
Here, let me do it.’ A large

young
man,
cravat dangling round his neck, but fully dressed, smashed the lock with two
powerful kicks. Jago burst into the room, pistol ready to fire.

Allegra’s terrified screaming had roused most of the guests
at the front of the inn and several of them prepared to follow, eager to
discover why the young lady had been making such a racket. The landlady
arrived, her cap askew, in time to prevent them.

‘Please return to your rooms, ladies and gentlemen. The
young lady’s having a nightmare, nothing worse. She was held up on the road
today and her young friend was shot. Such an experience must have upset her
nerves.’

Nodding and muttering in sympathy, for most had heard about
the event, the assembled guests traipsed back to their beds. The screaming
stopped, the corridor was quiet again.

In the bed chamber Jago held Allegra, rocking her back and
forth as she sobbed onto his shoulder. ‘Darling, it was a bad dream. You’re
safe, you’re safe now. I’m here to hold you.’

‘Mr Tremayne, shall I take over now? I have dealt with Lady
Allegra’s nightmares many times before.’ Miss Murrell spoke quietly from behind
him.

He was reluctant to release his love, fearing she was so
agitated she might lapse back into the strange semi-comatose state she had
suffered from less than a week ago.

Miss Murrell was insistent. ‘It will not do, sir, for you to
be in here much longer. Please allow me to take care of Lady Allegra.’

He stepped back and Allegra’s tearstained gaze followed him.
‘Do not go, Jago, please stay with me. I had such terrible dreams.’

‘I cannot, sweetheart. But I shall stay in the parlour, next
door, as I did before. Miss Murrell will take care of you.’ He backed out to
find both the unknown gentleman and the landlady conversing quietly in the
parlour.

‘I’ve sent my girl, Annie, to ask after Miss Tremayne, sir.
Your daughter seems much better and she’s sleeping comfortably.’

‘That’s kind of you, madam. I’m sorry we’ve been such a
trial to you.’

‘That is no matter, sir. It’s what we’re here for. If you
require nothing else, please excuse me, good night.’

‘A good-hearted woman,’ the stranger commented. ‘She’s
allowing my friends and
I
to pass the night here in
the bar. We neglected to reserve our accommodation and the place is full.’ The man
bowed.
‘Robert Forsythe, at your service, sir.’