The Captain's Mysterious Lady (15 page)

‘I stand corrected.' He bowed perfunctorily to Amy. ‘I beg your pardon. But that does not alter my opinion on the will.'

‘But can you prove your claim?' James persisted.

Sir Gerald turned on him. ‘And who are you to ask such questions? A new lawyer, perhaps?'

‘No, a friend of the family. And I ask you again, can you prove what you say?'

‘I intend to do so.' He turned back to Harriet. ‘That is why I called, to give you due warning and advise you it will save a deal of trouble if you were to move into the Lodge forth with.'

‘I am afraid they cannot do that, even if they would,' James said laconically. ‘The Lodge is occupied.'

‘Occupied?' Sir Gerald repeated in surprise. ‘By whom?'

‘By me, sir.'

‘Then you had better quit, sir.'

‘I have a binding contract, which I shall insist upon,' James countered.

‘We shall see.'

Recognising that he would not get anywhere while James was there to protect them, Sir Gerald took his leave in a great huff, muttering they would hear from his lawyers in due course.

As soon as he had gone, Amy sank on to a sofa and, being bidden to do so by a nod from Harriet, James sat beside her. ‘Odious man!' the good lady said.

‘Does he have any cause to expect to win?' he asked.

‘Not according to our lawyer. It is all bluster.'

‘I think it might be prudent to draw up a contract between yourself and me,' he said, smiling.

‘Do you mean there isn't one?' Amy asked.

‘The word of a gentleman was good enough for us,' Matilda said. ‘We would trust the Captain in all things.'

‘Nevertheless, you are right, Captain.' This from Harriet. ‘Prudence will prevail. How long shall this contract be for? Six months from the date you moved in?'

‘Oh, I think the Captain's business will be concluded long before six months have passed,' Amy put in sharply. ‘In fact, I dare say he is thinking of leaving for London almost immediately.'

They all looked at her in surprise. It was so unlike Amy to be waspish. ‘I did not say that,' James pro tested, though it was exactly what he had had in mind.

‘No, but you cannot wish to carry on with your undertaking now your true purpose has been well and truly uncovered. And my memory is coming back slowly of its own accord and what I cannot remember, I am sure Mr Martin Gotobed will supply.'

‘Mr Martin Gotobed is a scoundrel,' James said. ‘I forbid you to speak to him.'

‘
Forbid
, Captain? How so, forbid? You are not my husband that you can dictate to me,' Amy fumed.

‘No, more's the pity.'

‘
What
did you say?'

He hurried to retract. The conversation was becoming uncomfortably personal and he was not inclined to analyse his own feelings, certainly not admit them to anyone else. On the other hand, it would be a churlish man who denied he found Amy attractive and lovable enough to marry. ‘I meant that if I were, you might be more inclined to take heed of what I tell you.'

‘Why should I?'

‘Now, now, children,' Harriet said placatingly, making James look at her in astonishment. It was a long time since anyone had ad dressed him as a child. ‘Pray do not quarrel. Amy you are not still at odds with the Captain, are you? He has done you nothing but good, as you must allow, and truly we kept his errand a secret only to help you. If I had known you would be so upset by it, I would have told you long ago. Now, say all is forgiven and be friends again.'

James turned to her with a smile and held out his hand. ‘Pax?'

Slowly she took it. ‘Very well, Captain. I concede you were all thinking of my good, but I wish you to be more open with me in future.'

He smiled and put the back of her hand to his lips, in order to evade answering her request. He had yet to consult the aunts about how to proceed over Sam's revelations.

‘Now that is done and we are all as one again,' Matilda said and turned to Amy. ‘Did you tell the Captain about that dream you had last night?'

‘No, I was too angry with him.'

‘Tell him now.'

‘Why? It was nothing.' She was aware that James still had hold of her hand and he was looking at her with an expression of deep concern. She felt foolish and drew her hand away.

‘Nothing!' her aunt exclaimed. ‘You woke up screaming and terrified out of your wits and say it was nothing. These night mares you have must mean something. What we need is someone to interpret them.'

‘Not Widow Twitch, I beg you,' Harriet said. ‘I am persuaded she does more harm than good.'

‘Tell me,' James said softly.

So she did. ‘Aunt Harriet said the road was where my husband and I had our home near Covent Garden,' she finished. ‘But if it was, why was I running and who was after me? Was I coming here? Why don't I remember buying my ticket and boarding that coach?'

‘Your escort had it.'

‘And who was he?'

James looked from one aunt to the other and then at Amy. She was looking at him, entreating him to help her, and in the face of what she had said about being open with
her, he decided to tell her some of the truth. ‘His name was Gus Billings and I am of the opinion he was not your protector, but your keeper. I do not know what hold he had over you, but you were clearly afraid of him. And he was known to the high way men who held up the coach. They had some conversation before allowing us to proceed…' He paused, noting how pale she had become. ‘Do you wish me to go on?'

‘Yes, please.'

‘I believe you may have recognised them, too. I am not sure, but I think they might be the two you saw in the grounds.'

‘Captain, that is enough,' Harriet said. ‘Can you not see how your words are frightening poor Amy?'

‘I do not wish to frighten her. But I am persuaded it was shock that caused the loss of her memory and so perhaps a shock might restore it.' He paused, assembling his thoughts before turning back to Amy. ‘Your aunts have always discouraged you from returning to your home in London, but I think the time has come for you to go back. A sight of your home might be enough to restore your memory. If you agree, I will be pleased to take you.'

‘Captain!' Matilda pro tested. ‘That is unkind in you.'

‘No, he is right,' Amy cried. ‘I am in such a turmoil that I am prepared to try anything, even if it is painful. I have to find out what is hidden in my past, whether it is good or evil. I can no longer live with the uncertainty. And perhaps it will not be so bad. I might find Duncan was not so badly hurt and will forgive me.' She did not know why she added that, perhaps to remind herself that she was married, however much she might wish otherwise.

James was tempted to tell her what Sam had told him, but he held back. He wanted to make sure of the facts himself. Henry Fielding would be able to confirm them
and, even if all Sam had said was true, he wanted her to remember everything herself. Only then would she be ready to move on, to put the past behind her and consider her future. ‘Then when shall we go?' he asked.

‘Tomorrow?'

‘Too soon,' Matilda said. ‘You are not yet recovered from your bad night.'

‘I shall recover all the sooner if I am doing something, Aunt. Idleness has not worked, so perhaps action will. Captain, I shall be ready whenever it is convenient to you.'

‘I shall need to arrange a post chaise,' he said. ‘The public coach will be too slow and too uncomfortable.'

‘That will be a prodigious expense, Captain.'

‘Think nothing of it, I do not. Shall we say the day after to morrow, as early as may be? I shall send a man ahead to arrange post horses. If we make good time, we shall arrive in the capital in a little over ten or eleven hours and will not need to rack up anywhere. That is if you can stand to be so long upon the road.'

‘Yes, the sooner we arrive the better.'

‘Take Susan with you,' Harriet said. ‘You will need a maid and a chaperon. It is all very well to go about the country unaccompanied, but in town it is not to be heard of.'

‘Very well. I will go and put it to her, and, if she is agreeable, we can spend tomorrow packing. I shall not need to take much with me, for I must have clothes at home.' She jumped up and, bobbing a little curtsy to James, ran off to find the maid, leaving him facing the aunts.

‘We shall miss her dreadfully,' Matilda said. ‘It is wicked of me for wishing harm to her husband, but I hope she does not find him and comes back to us quickly.'

It was the opening he wanted. ‘She may return sooner than you think,' he said, then paused to marshal his
thoughts before continuing. ‘I have been given some news concerning Mr Duncan Macdonald that your niece will undoubtedly find disturbing…'

‘Then do not keep us in suspense, Captain,' Harriet said, giving her sister a disapproving look.

He related everything that Sam had told him, which shocked the ladies so much he feared they might swoon—certainly Matilda looked as though she might—but Harriet was made of sterner stuff and simply urged him to go on.

‘I could have told Mrs Macdonald,' he finished, ‘but I feared sending her into a relapse and wanted to consult you first. You may wish to break the news to her yourself.'

‘This is indeed bad news,' Harriet told him. ‘Not that the man is dead, for I never did like him, but because of the effect it will have on Amy.'

‘I cannot tell her,' Matilda cried, fanning herself vigorously. ‘And why take her to London when there is nothing there but more misery? She had better stay here.'

‘Because she knows there is something very wrong,' James explained. ‘And until she remembers and can ac com mo date herself to it, she cannot feel free to carry on with her life. She may have loved her husband.'

‘Amy could never love someone as wicked as he was.'

‘We do not know that he was especially wicked. He may have been wrongly accused. It is another reason why I wish to go to London, to as certain the facts for myself. And for her. Until then—' He stopped speaking as the sound of foot steps on the stone floor outside the room told them Amy was returning. ‘Shall you then leave all to me?'

‘Gladly, Captain,' Harriet said, then, raising her voice slightly, added, ‘There is an errand you could do for us while in London, Captain, if you would.'

‘An' it be in my power, then I will do it.'

‘Mr Smithson, that's our lawyer, has asked us for some papers for his perusal. He already has our father's will, but has asked us to forward other documents, like the Manorial rolls and our grandfather's will. I was in no particular haste to send them, but Sir Gerald's visit has made me think otherwise. We do not want to trust them to the mail, so if you would take them with you and put them into Mr Smithson's hand, we will be much obliged.'

‘It will be my pleasure,' he said, turning to smile at Amy as she came into the room.

‘Susan is all agog at the idea of a visit to London,' she said. ‘And she is quite sure we can be ready by eight o'clock the morning after next.'

James stood up and took his leave. The die was cast. He was feeling more than a little apprehensive about what lay ahead, but they could not go on as they had been doing and something had to be done. For Amy's sake as well as his own.

 

James, riding in the best equipage with the best team of horses he could find, arrived at the Manor a little before eight on the appointed morning. He meant to take no chances and so Sam sat on the driving seat beside his coachman, with a blunderbuss along side him. They drew up in the court yard, but before James could jump down and go to the door it was opened by Johnson. Behind him in the hall, Susan was fussing over two portmanteaux and a hatbox. While the footman was loading the luggage into the basket at the back of the coach, Amy and her aunts appeared.

James went to greet the ladies, noting that Amy, dressed in a simple round gown and a hooded cloak, looked a little strained, though manfully trying not to show it. Matilda was tearful and though Harriet was dry-eyed, she was
looking glum. ‘I shall be back before you know it,' Amy said, kissing them both. ‘With or without Duncan.' She turned to James with a smile that was only a little forced. ‘Captain, for good or ill, I am ready.'

He helped her into her seat, followed by Susan. Then Harriet gave him the package of documents and he climbed in himself.

‘Goodbye and God speed,' the aunts cried as they began to move.

Amy turned and waved until they passed over the drawbridge and the aunts were lost to sight. Then she sat back, knowing she had a long journey ahead of her and what was at the end of it she could not even begin to guess.

They were silent for some minutes, con strained a little by the presence of Susan and the fact that Amy had not entirely forgiven him for keeping secrets from her. But they could not spend twelve hours in close proximity without speaking and it behoved her to make some effort at conversation. ‘This is a very comfortable coach, Captain,' she said, patting the red-velvet padded seat. ‘Wherever did you find it?'

‘In Downham Market. The landlord of the King's Arms has a brother who deals in carriages and he was able to find the horses, too.'

‘It is all very fine. I am much obliged to you.'

‘Oh, do not talk of obligation,' he said, understanding her nervousness, for who would not feel nervous given what had happened on her last coach trip? He was a little anxious himself. Those two highpads might be anywhere. ‘It is my privilege and pleasure.'

They left Highbeck behind them and took the road to Ely, along side the river where they had been held up before. ‘We should make good time,' he told her. ‘The horses are fresh and I have sent ahead for frequent changes, so, all
being well, we should reach each stage at the appointed time.'