True Born (9 page)

"Sleeping in the streets?"

"Not that bad, not that bad, lad!" Marcus
scoffed, waving his hand with largesse.

"Considering the only women who would have
you in their bed would have to be paid, I can only imagine…"

"Well, that's the thing," Marcus said
brightly. "I do give myself a couple of girls per wig, so I am set
for a while.""

"The money for the wig would go fairly quick
if you want to stay all night with a London whore!" John
exclaimed.

"What are ye, an accountant?  And what
whores do you go to, for God's sake, who cost so much?" Marcus
shook his head in mock grief. "And I thought it would be amusing to
see ye. Why don't you lay off me and tell me about your whoreson
brother and what happened after you gave him that hidin'?"

John shrugged. "Nothing happened. I had
already resigned my commission, which would have been taken away,
and I have not seen him since."

"What about his wife, then?"

John considered his friend. "She is off
limits for the moment, though I am working on that."

Marcus narrowed his merry eyes as
he looked at John. "You don't look so flush yourself! I'd have
thought you'd come back to some inheritance, since your father was
an Earl."

John didn't mind that Marcus should mention
his parentage, as he did it with no malice.

"I even thought I might get a few bob off
you," Marcus added.

"Or a big fat wig off my head?"

Marcus' eyes flew up to John's head. "Good
natural hair, that. You wouldn't be shaving that to wear a damn
wig, unless you were planning to prance around in a minuet with
some ladies of the court."

"No dancing for me."

"So, John, no money, no lady? A newspaper in
your pocket and some advertisements circled? Ye not looking for a
job, are ye? Don't break me heart!"

"I hope you are going to spare me that
intolerable talk of how free and special the bloody Irish are, and
what poets!"

"All right, I will amuse you with the talk of
what shits the English are, and what tight fists!"

John laughed, "I like that better!"

"Why are you looking so hard for a job, the
great man made it difficult for you?"

"Well nigh impossible. So far."

Marcus repressed a hiccough. "Have you looked
overseas? If you're willing to work, the shipping agencies might
not care about the Earl, or going abroad might change everything.
There are places to go and make money!"

"You don't seem tempted."

"I have my wig business," Marcus said with
hauteur. "And I hear ale is bad anywhere but here. And in Germany.
And I wouldn't go there."

John shook his head. "I can't go abroad. I
can't leave England again."

"Ah!" said the perspicacious Marcus. "I see.
Well, that makes it difficult, don't it?"

"Well..." John said. "I have not only been
circling advertisements. There was an article that quite caught my
eye -- something that opens the way to enterprising young men of
courage."

"Not sure you are talking about me, when you
mention that last word."

John was not discouraged. "Imagine having
your own hours, being your own master and making a very large
profit, so that you would only have to work once a week -- or even
once a fortnight."

Marcus' eyes had widened, "What's that job
called, manning the gates of heaven? Because we know not many
people pass through it, especially in your bloody religion! Once in
a fortnight sounds about right!"

"I will tell you all about it, but you have
to come with me, we can't talk here. You can have a room in my
house, and we can discuss it."

"A room is it? Not half the bed with
you?"

"A room," John said. "Do you think I would
sleep in the same bed as you?"

Marcus pursed his lips, "Too bad. I haven't
made love in so long your legs are looking mighty fine to me at the
moment, and your eyes very pretty!"

"Come on, before you are too drunk!"

At home John asked the servant to prepare a
bed for Marcus, and a bath (which made the Irishman protest), and
to wash his clothes. He also ordered a good meal of lamb and
potatoes, as well as more ale, to be brought.

John's guest sat by the fire after eating,
wrapped in a long blanket, happy with his fourth cup of ale. He was
so happy, in fact, that he did attempt to start a song, but John
said, "Stop the Irish singing shite!"

Marcus sighed, never capable of losing his
bonhomie, especially with a few cups in him.  "Oh, all right.
The English have been repressing us for so long, what's another
song that can't be sung?" He turned round to look at John, "And
when are you going to tell me about this wonderful discovery of
yours, how to make a lot of money while hardly working?"

John cocked his head and gave a smile as
mischievous as Marcus had ever produced. "Between the newspaper and
your occupation, I think I have found exactly what we need. It will
either set us up nicely or be the end of us!"

"I don't like the part about it being the end
of us," Marcus said. "I like that other part."

"No reward without risk!" John said, still
smiling.

Hugh was highly annoyed as the carriage
carrying him, his wife and her three sisters sped through the
moors.

He had cautioned everyone against a late
start, as they did not want to still be on the road at nightfall,
but all the bloody women had taken so long to be dressed and
ready!

With the lack of real roads and maps of the
southwest, drivers often got lost over the unruly territory, and
the coachman was new, having only driven from London to Halford
once before. The grooms were no help either.

And now, as Hugh looked out of the window, he
did see night fast approaching, and knew that they were lost. They
would eventually find their way, but it would take longer than it
should, when they had been already been bumping over uneven terrain
and rocks all day. He was tired and in a sour mood, and the girls
who had taken the longest to be ready – his wife's three sisters –
seemed to be sleeping, while he was incapable of it.

There was another reason to speed, which he
didn't even want to think about. However, often such things
happened exactly when one was trying desperately not to think of
them.

"Intolerable journey! It shall be a while
before I go anywhere again!" Hugh was saying to Georgiana, who did
not keep him any real company by sharing his ill humor.

The carriage suddenly stopped, and for a
moment Hugh was annoyed -- why was the idiot coachman stopping so
suddenly? He opened the curtain to see if the incompetent were
asking the way from some passerby or rider, and did see a man on a
horse, but then, with terror, realized that he was masked, and
holding a pistol.

Another man's masked face appeared at the
window, making everyone inside gasp.

"
Stand und deliffer!
" the man at the
window cried.

Heavenly Mary, it was the feared German Rogue
and his band!

The door was unceremoniously thrown open and
the German outlaw himself reached inside and pulled Hugh out.

Hugh heard the spluttering from the mounted
member of the band, and knew that he was the notorious Laughing
Bandit.

The Earl almost felt like screaming at the
women
, I knew this would happen!
 And if he could, he
would have struck his coachman on the head, for here was what
everyone tried to avoid when going towards the southwest: being
held up in the moors by any band of highwaymen at all.

At least, Hugh thought desperately, there
were no known fatalities by the German Rogue and his men, but they
were said to be vicious at the time of finding all the money
passengers were carrying -- whether it was sewn into women's
dresses or hidden inside hollow wheels, saddles or beneath
wigs.

These men usually left common passengers
alone and went only for the rich pickings, and for His Majesty's
money when it was carried to and fro by bailiffs. This meant that
they would be caught sooner rather than later, as they were robbing
the very highest sphere of society.

That Laughing Bandit, which always struck
dread in the heart of his victims with his heartless mirth, was
going to be weeping at the scaffold soon!

These thoughts were of little comfort to Hugh
as he and the women were all lined up in the cold night under a
bright moon, while the four men in the band rummaged through
everything and put money, jewels and other things of value in
sacks. The German was looking at them one by one, and stared at
Hugh for a long time, fishing a watch out of his pocket and, with
an appreciative noise, taking his wig.

The bandit went on to caress the Countess
with his eyes and pluck her necklace, earrings and bracelets. She
didn't seem to mind, and said nothing when he did the same to Bess,
but when he moved over to her younger sisters, Georgiana cried,
"Sir, these are young girls! Please allow me to get whatever they
have of value and give it to you."

The laughing man who was still on the horse
seemed a little restless at this, and the German nodded, "Ja,
madam, zis ist fine!"

A laugh, or something rather more like a
snort, was then heard from the man on the horse.

Georgiana stepped forward and started
removing her sisters' jewelry, and showed the bandit that there was
nothing hidden in their cloaks, skirts, shoes, bodices.

"To show you more than this..." She stopped
and flushed. "How can I make you let us go, without exposing
them?"

The man looked around at the family and said,
"I agree ve must not outrage zese girls -- but as such, madam, you
must stand as guarantee zat ve shall haff all ve need!"

"What do you mean?" Hugh asked, stepping
forward.

"Zat ze lady vill come mit us!" the man said.
"Und be ransomed!"

The girls rushed towards Georgiana, crying,
as Bess stepped backwards and Hugh, not daring to move, protested,
"This is outrageous! This lady is a friend of the King! Do you
think you will not be found and hanged, sir?"

The German man turned towards him, his face
close to his, "I know it von't be tonight!"

He took Georgiana by the wrist, but she
resisted him and slapped his face.

"Ow!" the bandit cried, his hand to his
cheek. His friend was snorting with laughter again.

"Georgiana!" Hugh cried, but he was trying to
calm her down. They might all be shot and, in fact, the Laughing
Bandit, who was now so quiet, stepped forward to point his pistol
at him.

"Georgiana!" Hugh repeated, his hands in the
air.

The Countess saw that if she kept resisting a
pistol might go off, and her sisters might be wounded, but she
could not help a look of disdain at her frightened husband as she
stepped forward. "All right, here I am!"

The German Rogue bowed mockingly and motioned
towards the Laughing Bandit, whose horse came forward. He took
Georgiana's arm and pulled her into the saddle, placing her in
front of him. Turning without more ado, he rode away.

"Giana!" Dotty screamed after her.

Hugh cried, "They won't have you for
long!"

Georgiana felt that the man riding away with
her was strong, and an expert rider. The horse was speeding through
the moors, and he held her fast before him on the saddle. It was
not going to be easy to escape him.

After they had ridden for about a quarter of
an hour, he slowed the pace of his horse. They were in the wild,
and she could get lost, but was it better to take a chance and
escape than to be raped by bandits.

Feeling the highwayman's face to be right
behind her, she drove her head back with all her might against his
chin. And she meant to jump from the horse and run, except that he
was still holding her around the waist with one arm, while his
other hand went to his mouth.

"Bloody hell, Georgie! I think I lost a
tooth!"

Georgiana turned around in the saddle with a
gasp, just as John took off the black mask that had been covering
his face down to the edge of his lip, which was now bleeding.

"John!"

"Who else, you mad girl?"

"You are the mad one! What on earth are you
doing?"

John jumped onto the ground and lifted her
down, and they stood embracing under the moon, where she could see
him clearly. He was worrying his bloodied front teeth with his
tongue, but seemed otherwise happy.

"Earning a living!" he said.

"You aren't serious! You haven't really
become a highwayman?"

"Your husband left me little choice -- and,
have I ever said that I am an impatient man? I mean to have a farm,
and I will get there the fastest possible way, without leaving
England. Well, not for long anyway."

Georgiana's eyes were shining with mischief
and amusement, but she suddenly frowned, “There is such a prize on
your head! They go around describing your laugh! Why do you
laugh?"

"It's that crazy Irishman -- I said we needed
to disguise our voices and he his accent, and the first day he
started speaking like a German and I couldn't help myself! Then, on
top of everything, he told me that he had meant to sound like a
Dane! Every time he does it it's worse! And the silly things he
says! 
Stand und deliffer
!"

She started to giggle as well. "Then you must
remember to disguise your laugh!"

"I did today, because Hugh would have
recognized me, but when I saw him pulled out of the
carriage...!"

John spluttered with laughter, and Georgiana
couldn't help joining him.

"But the girls!" she cried.

"They will be fine! We never hurt anyone, and
Hugh will not try to be a hero, of that I am sure! Everything must
be over already!"

"What do you mean to do with me?" she
asked.