Amanda Scott (22 page)

Such an attitude on Rory’s part could endanger them all, particularly if Simon were not forewarned. How could she have been such a ninnyhammer as to let him leave without telling him what she knew? The question made her squirm. If she had not leapt into battle with him, if she had merely remained calm and insisted upon telling him what she had learned from the comte, Simon would be much better prepared to meet whatever lay ahead of him. As it was, he had no idea of what was at stake. Indeed, if the Vidame de Lâche had already informed Bonaparte that the emeralds were still in France, Bonaparte would already have begun to search for them. Thus, if Rory insisted upon initiating his own search, despite Simon’s efforts to stop him, he would be putting Simon in as much danger as himself and the Beléchappé family.

With such thoughts as these for company, it was not long before Diana knew what she had to do. She would go after Simon, catch him before he boarded the
Sea Maiden
at Portsmouth, and tell him all she knew about Lord Roderick and the Beléchappé family. He would be furious with her, of course. Heaven knew what he would do to her, but perhaps the fact that he was in a great hurry would save her for a time. He would send her back to Alderwood, probably under guard, but at least he would know what he was getting into.

She still wore her habit, and she had money. She tipped out the contents of her reticule onto the bed. Simon had given her a generous amount not a week since, for there were always vails to be paid and impromptu visits to nearby villages for shopping expeditions wherever one visited, and she had spent very little. Having no notion of how much it would cost her to hire a chaise, for she would certainly never convince Ned Tredegar to drive her, she found herself hoping that thirty-seven guineas and odd change would prove to be sufficient.

Taking a warm cloak from the wardrobe where Mis Floodlind had left it, she left a note for Lydia, then made her way down a back stair, avoiding the long gallery, and slipped out of the house by way of a servants’ door. Most of the guests had retired to their rooms to begin dressing for dinner, but she had no wish to take the chance of running into anyone who might try to stop her.

The stables were empty except for a pair of young stableboys in Osterley livery. One was in the hay mow, pitching down hay, which the other was methodically transferring to each of the inhabited stalls. The latter smiled at Diana’s approach.

“Mr. Tredegar be gorn t’ ’ave ’is supper, m’lady. Ought I ter fetch ’im?”

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” Diana assured him, hoping her relief at Tredegar’s absence didn’t show too clearly. “I merely want my bay hunter saddled. I wish to ride out to meet some friends who are driving over from Maidenhead.”

The stable lad agreed that like as not he could saddle her bay for her and proceeded to do so. He was a chatty young man, and it was not at all difficult for Diana to turn the subject to her husband’s journey. “He had to leave so quickly,” she said, “and I believe he must have taken his phaeton. I hope he doesn’t come to grief.”

“’Is lordship drives like ’e be born to it, me lady,” the boy said, chuckling. “Ye’ll not need t’ worry over the like o’ ’im.”

“No, very likely not, but if one of his horses should come up lame or if something should go wrong with the phaeton, I don’t know what he would do. He is in a dreadful hurry to reach Portsmouth, you know.”

“Well, like as not he’d just up and ’ire a chaise, like all the nobs does when they dassn’t ’ave their own.” He screwed up his forehead as he thought over what he’d said. “If ’e be in an all-fired ’urry, like as not that’s why ’e wanted t’ know the quickest way from ’ere t’ the Portsmouth Road.”

“What did you tell him?” Diana asked quietly.

“Why, the quickest’d be t’ go cross country, south across the heath t’ the river, but ’e’d be wantin’ a road wi’ that get-up o’ is, ’n there ain’t but a track across the heath, ’n dangerous rutted it be this time o’ year. Your Tredegar tol’ ’im t’ take the Staines Road. ’E kin get from Staines right enough to Esher. ’N if ’is rig breaks down afore then, why, I guess ’e could get sumpin’ in Esher t’ git ’im to Guildford.”

“Oh, Guildford,” said Diana. “Yes, of course, he could find whatever he needed there, could he not? And that’s right on the Portsmouth Road.”

“Well, o’ course,” agreed the stable boy, proud to show off his geographical knowledge.

Diana took a chance. “’Tis a pity he took the phaeton at all if it would have been quicker to ride directly across the heath. But how would he know he was going in the right direction?”

“Said there was a track, didn’t I? Easy as kiss yer ’and if ’e keeps the sun on ’is right ’n don’t mistake some sideway fer the real thing. It’s only ’bout four, mebbe five, miles t’ the river, atter all, ’n there be folks’d put ’im right, ifn ’e got lorst.”

“How would he cross the river?” Diana asked, hoping she sounded merely curious.

“Hampton Court crossing’s ’bout a mile east o’ where ’e’d come upon the river. Road there goes straight into the Portsmouth Road. Meets it ’bout a mile ’r so above Esher.”

Having thus acquired a great deal of useful knowledge, Diana chatted with him a few moments more, then accepted his help in mounting her horse. “I shan’t be gone long,” she said then, casually. “I daresay I shall be back before Ned Tredegar returns from his supper.”

His directions were not at all difficult to follow, and she reached the banks of the Thames less than half an hour later. Crossing Hounslow Heath on the rutted, muddy, and at times, snow-banked track had been a little frightening, for she had heard the heath teemed with highwaymen, but she had seen no one but an occasional pedestrian, no doubt wending his way home looking forward to his supper. Turning east, she found the crossing less than ten minutes later, and the road after that was well kept and completely clear of melting snow.

It was dark by the time she reached the village of Esher, so although she would have preferred to ride as far as Guildford before she attempted to find another means of transportation, she knew she didn’t dare. It would be too dangerous. Moreover, she had ridden hard, her worry over Simon outweighing any concern she may have felt for the baby she carried. She was very tired, and so was the bay hunter. Seeing an inn sign, she drew up, sliding down from the saddle, and giving orders to the approaching ostler to attend to her horse and see the animal was returned to Osterley the following morning.

“Aye, mistress,” he returned eyeing her appreciatively.

His reaction to her solitary state warned her to expect difficulties from mine host. Consequently, she drew on all she had learned from Lady Ophelia and Lady Jersey and hoped he would not realize she was quaking inwardly.

The innkeeper was a stout fellow with red cheeks and bristling sidewhiskers. He frowned as he moved to greet her, looking over her shoulder as though he expected her companions to show themselves at any moment.

“Well, madam?”

Diana drew herself to her full height and looked down her nose at him, although she had to tilt her chin a bit to accomplish that feat. “I beg your pardon, my good man,” she said haughtily. “I require a decent carriage to convey me to Guildford where I can hire a proper post chaise and four. I am in a great hurry. I trust you can accommodate my needs.”

His attitude changed almost ludicrously at the mention of a post chaise and four, quite the most expensive form of transportation one might consider. He rubbed his fat hands together. “Well, as to that, ma’am, I daresay my lad could drive ye t’ Guildford in our gig. ’Tis likely it ain’t what you be accustomed to—”

“That will be suitable,” Diana said calmly. “I believe I mentioned I am in a great hurry.”

He looked her over again as though he were trying to judge whether she might be a schoolgirl running away from home, but when she met his look without losing a jot of her poise, he turned and shouted over his shoulder for Lem to shake a leg, there was a customer wantin’ to go to Guildford.

Diana paid the innkeeper as liberally as she dared, knowing it would cost a great deal for the chaise in Guildford, but hoping a little largesse in Esher would pave her way later. She was glad she had done it when she discovered a cloth-covered basket at her feet in the gig, containing cold roast chicken, bread, cheese, and a jug of wine. There was even an apple. Conscious of hunger for the first time, she whiled away the thirteen miles from Esher through Cobham and Ripley to Guildford by sharing the meal with the taciturn Lem. The journey took longer than she had hoped, and it was after eight o’clock when they reached the Angel in Guildford.

Using her experience at Esher to guide her, Diana had less difficulty than she had anticipated hiring the post chaise and four. With two armed postilions mounted ahead of her, she had little fear that she would be molested on the way. It was all of thirty-two miles further to Portsmouth, and since she had demanded all speed, it was necessary to stop in Petersfield for a change of horses. Even so, it was after midnight when the chaise finally reached Portsmouth. She had hoped to overtake Simon on the road, and at every posting house or decent-looking inn she had looked into the yard to see if she could recognize his phaeton, but she had seen nothing that looked remotely like that sleekly lined carriage. Frightened that he might already have left for France, she had the postboys take her directly to the wharf where the
Sea Maiden
was berthed. Once they drew near the sea, they encountered no difficulty in obtaining necessary directions from first one and then another sailor until, arriving at dockside, Diana was gratified to discover that the yacht still rested in her berth. Surprisingly, there seemed to be no one on board. There were no lights, and no one was keeping guard at the gangplank. In fact, it did not look at all as though Simon could be aboard or as though anyone were expecting him.

She hesitated only briefly, however, before paying off the postboys and ordering them to leave her there. She certainly did not want to put up at a hotel, and if she could find at least one of Simon’s crew and convince him to let her remain in the master cabin until Simon arrived, then her husband could decide what to do with her.

By the time she was aboard the yacht, she had changed her mind. Simon would send her back to Alderwood under guard with a polite request that his father keep her there. She would be in disgrace. If he was going to be angry with her anyway, why not give him good reason? She smiled as she made her way across the dark deck of the yacht. She had never been aboard before, but she knew enough to realize that there must be some way of getting below. Even as the thought crossed her mind, she heard whistling and realized someone was approaching. She ducked down behind a huge coil of thick rope.

A man carrying a lantern came alongside the ship’s bulkhead, walking with a rolling gait to the head of the gangway, where he set the lantern down and settled himself onto a folding stool. Evidently, Diana thought, she had arrived during a changing of the guard or while the guard had had to attend to a call of nature. Either way, she had been lucky, but there was no point now in calling attention to herself. The light of the lantern had nickered across an open hatch leading down into a companionway. The guard’s attention was focused upon the wharfside. If she were quiet, she could slip into the companionway without being seen.

The deed was accomplished almost as easily as the thought, but once below it was even darker. No candles or lanterns had been left lit, and she had no notion what she would find. For all she knew there were men sleeping down here. She felt her way carefully, listening hard for the slightest indication that there were other humans nearby. She could hear nothing.

A few moments later, her nerves at breaking point, she felt a latch beneath her fingers. Moving with the greatest care, she turned the latch, feeling satisfaction when a door opened silently toward her. Groping about in the darkness beyond the door, she realized she had come across some sort of storage locker. The floor was bare, but there were shelves along the walls, made with high lips so that things stored would not go crashing about whenever the ship moved. Slipping inside, Diana discovered that if she curled up, using her cloak as a cover and a bundle of cord discovered on the first shelf as a pillow, she could be perfectly warm and comfortable. As she settled down, she realized she was exhausted. The day had been long and arduous, and she had ridden a great distance. Her eyes would scarcely stay open. Her last conscious thought was that surely no ship of Simon’s would dare to be rat-infested.

She was awakened by a change from darkness to halflight and a roughly muttered curse. “God’s life, what ’ave we here? A bleedin’ wench. And won’t ’is lordship be pleased, bein’ in such a fine mood, as ’e is?”

T
HE BURLY YOUNG SAILOR
reached down and grabbed Diana by her arm, hauling her upright without ceremony. “Come along, wench. There’ll be the devil t’ pay, and no pitch hot. His lordship be in no frame o’ mind fer romantical shenanigans.”

Diana straightened her shoulders, glaring at him. “I am Lady Andover,” she said, attempting to gather her dignity.

The sailor glanced at her, looked pointedly back into the storage locker, then brought his gaze back to examine her more carefully. No doubt she looked like an owl dragged out of an ivy bush, Diana thought, restraining the temptation to smooth her hair and skirts. The man’s eyes lost their insolent look as his gaze drifted from her tousled hair down her dusty bodice to her wrinkled but undeniably expensive velvet skirts. His glance moved to her hat, lying beside her crumpled cloak on the floor, and he grimaced expressively, shaking his head.

“M’lady, methinks yer in the soup, right enough.”

Diana bit her lower lip. “I don’t suppose you could contrive to go about your business and simply forget that you ever opened that door.” When the man, looking uncomfortable, said nothing, she sighed. “No, of course not. ’Tis most unfair of me even to suggest such a thing. Is his lordship up there?” She gestured toward the open hatch leading to the main deck.