The Captain's Mysterious Lady (17 page)

‘Who else?' she echoed.

‘Yes. The man Billings, for one. Or those two men you saw in the grounds of the Manor…' He paused. This had to be acted out to the bitter end. ‘Amy, I fear your husband was embroiled with some very unsavoury characters. I do not know how it came about, but he was wanted, along with them, for highway robbery and murder. Someone informed the Watch that a murder had occurred at your address, but when they got there, the only person they found was your wounded husband. He was taken to Newgate, but his wound became infected and he died. Prisons, even the infirmaries, are not the cleanest of places.' He
paused to let his words sink in. ‘I am very sorry. I would not, for the world, have distressed you and even now I wonder if I should have left you in ignorance.'

‘The ignorance was more distressing than the truth,' she said, surprised by how little impact this news had on her. It was as if he were telling her something she already knew. ‘But whatever you say about Duncan and his associates' guilt has not proved my own innocence.'

‘That will be my next task.' He was more than ever convinced she was a victim, not a villain, but he was also worried that others might not share that view and he was determined to protect her. With his life if necessary.

‘Do you think you can?'

‘I will do my utmost.'

Susan came into the room, saying she had found some chocolate and a bottle of cordial in a cupboard. ‘I am not sure either is fit to drink,' she said. ‘There's half a bottle of brandy.'

‘Bring that,' he commanded. ‘It will be safer than old cordial or chocolate, and do your mistress more good.'

‘How did you learn about Duncan?' Amy asked him after Susan had gone to do his bidding. ‘Was that one more thing you knew before coming to Highbeck and decided to keep from me?'

‘No. Sam Roker discovered it when he returned to town to fetch my belongings. He has been with me on all my adventures and he has a nose for these things. I would have told you at once, but…' he shrugged ‘…you seemed so content with your aunts and I heard you say on one occasion that perhaps you could live without a memory. If Mr Gotobed had not arrived…'

‘Was he one of the gang, too?'

‘No, I do not think so, but he claimed he saw Duncan Macdonald just before he died.'

‘All this is making my head spin,' she murmured.

‘Poor Amy,' he said sympathetically. ‘You have been through the mill, haven't you? Now, here is Susan with the brandy. You must drink a little, then I will take you home.'

‘Home?' She gave a cracked laugh. ‘This
is
home.'

‘I meant my home.'

‘No, that is not fitting. I will go to my mother.'

‘Of course.' Perhaps she was right; she needed her mother at such a time, not a man she only half-trusted. ‘If that is what you wish.'

Reluctant to leave her to find chairs or a cab in case she took it into her head to disappear again, he decided they would walk. There had been no rain recently so the roads were dusty rather than muddy and Lady Charron's apartments were only a short step away. ‘When you have finished your brandy and feel calmer, we will go.'

 

But her mother was not at home. The servant who came to the door in answer to James's knock told them she was rehearsing
The Beggar's Opera
at the Drury Lane Theatre. James sent a gutter urchin to fetch a cab and took her and Susan there. He told the maid to stay with the cab, which the driver did not mind in the least, being paid for doing nothing, and then he escorted Amy inside and used his best wiles, including half a guinea, to pass the door keeper who directed them to Lady Charron's dressing room where they were obliged to wait until the rehearsal was finished.

Amy sat on one of the hard stools in front of the mirror, but she was in such a state of nerves that she could not stop shaking. James watched her, wishing with all his heart he could make matters easier for her. He stood beside her and put his hand lightly on her shoulder and she looked up at him and managed a weak smile.

She was not at all sure what he thought of her, whether he was standing by her in his role of friend or thief taker, whether he truly believed her guilty or innocent. But she was in his hands and had to trust him to do as he said and uncover the truth, however unpalatable it might be.

They heard the music come to an end and a few minutes later Sophie Charron came in, dressed in the costume she would wear for the performance, the skirt of which was at least two yards wide, forcing her to enter the room sideways. Once inside she turned to face her daughter. ‘Amy! Amy, my child. They said you were here. How pleased I am to see you.' She bent to drop a kiss on Amy's cheek. ‘But what brings you? I thought your aunts were looking after you.' She was plumper than Amy had expected. Her face was heavily painted and she had three black patches dotted on her cheeks. Her wig was enormous and topped with feathers. Her heavily embroidered stays were very low cut and revealed more of that lady's bosom than was entirely proper.

Amy stood up and bobbed a curtsy. ‘Mama?' There was a questioning note in her voice.

‘Of course I am your mama, who did you think I was? To be sure you have spent most of your life with your aunts, but I have come to see you from time to time and you visited me at home when you lived in London with Duncan Macdonald. Surely you remember that?'

‘No. I have for got ten everything,' Amy said. ‘Mama, may I present Captain James Drymore?'

Sophie turned towards James, her wide skirts swaying and brushing against a table on which was a vase of flowers. It would have toppled if James had not been swift enough to catch it and set it upright again. She put up her quizzing glass to see him properly. ‘I am pleased to meet you, Captain. Lord Trentham has told me about you.'

‘My lady.' He bowed with a flourish.

‘Have you been able to uncover the mystery?'

‘Only some of it.'

‘Duncan is dead,' Amy said, flatly. ‘I—'

‘He was attacked and mortally wounded,' James put in before Amy could say she had killed him, which he guessed she was about to do. He did not think that was a wise idea.

‘Was he? Well, that does not surprise me,' her mother announced.

‘Why not?' Amy demanded. ‘Do you know what happened?'

‘No, I do not, but he did not choose his friends wisely. Gamesters, all of them, not gentlemen either. I saw them once at Almack's, playing very deep. No doubt he was in debt to them and would not pay up. Such men can be extremely dangerous.'

‘I did not know that,' Amy said.

‘Of course you did. I remember you coming to me once in tears and asking what you should do about it. I gave you some money because Duncan had left you without any.'

‘I do not remember it.' The more she learned about him, the more she wondered if she had ever loved her husband. Why, then, had she married him?

‘Do you recall
anything,
Amy?' her mother asked impatiently.

‘Little things about when I was a child, nothing recent. But I have had terrible dreams which I think are returning memories, but they frighten me so. They are so violent. I dreamed there was a bag of gold coins and jewels…'

Sophie looked at James, a questioning look on her face. ‘Has anyone found such a thing?'

‘No, my lady.'

‘Duncan Macdonald was like Sir John in many ways,'
her mother said. ‘They could both be the essence of charm and good manners when it suited them, but both were braggers and both had violent tempers, especially when in drink. We are well rid of them.'

‘Is my father dead?' Amy asked.

‘Not that I know. He is on the Continent some where. I have not heard from him these last three years, so I cannot tell you exactly where.'

‘Was he a Jacobite rebel?'

‘Where did you get that idea? Did Duncan tell you that?' her mother exclaimed.

‘If he did, I do not recall it.' Amy was becoming very tired of having continually to say she could not remember. Even the mess in her house had not revived her memory, and if that could not, then she supposed nothing could. ‘Susan told me Mr Roker was talking to her about the rebels and how so many of them were forced to flee to France and that some where there was hidden treasure…'

‘Who is Mr Roker?' Sophie enquired.

‘He is my servant, my lady,' James put in. ‘The story of the Arkaig treasure has tickled his fancy and no doubt he sought to divert Susan with it. She had been sick, you see.'

‘Rumours,' Sophie said. ‘Nothing but rumours. I never realised they had spread so far. I beg of you, Captain, to set the record straight with your servant and anyone else you hear tattling. It could ruin my reputation and I would be hissed off the stage if it were thought I was connected with traitors and rebels.'

He bowed in acquiescence, though how he could prevent people from talking he did not know, especially as new rumours were flying about that Bonnie Prince Charlie was in London to drum up support for another uprising. Could there be any truth in them? Was the Young Pretender going
to cause more trouble? He didn't see how he could; his Scottish supporters had all been subdued by the draconian punishments meted out to them, many of them had been deported to America and the West Indies. They were in no position to rise again. And surely the Prince did not have enough allies in England? France and Spain would not help him unless he could show them he had overwhelming support. And where did Amy's family, particularly her father and husband, fit into all that? As far as he knew Sam had not connected Sir John with the rebels, so why had Amy jumped to that conclusion? Had she known something? Was it all part of the reason for her loss of memory? This mystery just seemed to continually deepen rather than unfold!

They were interrupted by the arrival of a young man who breezed into the room without knocking. ‘Oh,' he said, when he saw Amy and James. ‘I did not know you had company, Sophie.'

Her mother waved a hand at him. ‘Come in, Harry, and be presented to my daughter, Mrs Macdonald, and Captain James Drymore. Captain, Amy, this is my protégé, Mr Harry Portman, son and heir of Lord Portman of Braintree.'

The man was the same age as James, perhaps a year or two his junior, and dressed in a suit of lilac silk. His waistcoat was white, his stockings white, tied at the knee with lilac ribbon. A quizzing glass and watch dangled on two ribbons about his neck. His fingers sparkled with jewelled rings. He was, so James decided, as eccentric a macaroni as Gotobed, but with a little more taste. He bowed to Amy and kissed her hand. ‘Mrs Macdonald, your obedient.' Then he bowed to James. ‘Captain Drymore, how do you do? Your fame precedes you.'

‘Oh?' James queried. ‘In what connection?'

‘Why, in connection with your thief taking exploits. According to Lord Trentham, no criminal is safe once you have him in your sights.'

‘Lord Trentham is too kind. And also in ac cu rate,' James said drily.

Harry turned and ad dressed himself to Sophie. ‘I came to say you are wanted on stage for the second act.'

‘Then I must go,' she said, preparing to get herself out of the door the way she had come in. ‘Amy, bring the Captain back later and you can tell me all about what you have been up to, night mares and all, and how my sisters do and what is happening at Highbeck. I really must try to pay a visit before too long.'

‘Mama, I have nowhere to go.'

‘What's wrong with your house in Henrietta Street?'

‘I had to break a window to get in,' Amy told her. ‘But apart from that, nearly everything in the house has been ruined or plundered. The clothes presses are empty and so are the kitchen cup boards.'

‘Well, I am sorry, but I do not see how you can stay with me. I do not have the room and I am never in. You would find it dull in the extreme.'

James could see the disappointment and hurt in Amy's eyes even if her mother could not. He felt like shaking the woman and demanding she attend to her daughter. No one could have been less like the lovable Hardwick aunts. ‘It is of no consequence,' he said. ‘Mrs Macdonald is welcome to stay at Colbridge House while we are in town.'

‘There!' her mother said with satisfaction. ‘That is a much better idea.'

‘Come, Amy,' he said gently. ‘I will take you home. We will come back and see the performance this evening and perhaps Lady Charron will dine with us at Fenton's afterwards.'

‘May I be one of the party?' Portman asked. ‘I would hear about your exploits as thief taker.'

The request did not please James, but he could think of no excuse to exclude him, especially as Lady Charron agreed. Having squeezed herself out, she was followed by Portman, leaving James and Amy to find their way back to the street and the patient Susan.

‘How can I go back to your home?' Amy asked as they climbed into the cab beside Susan. ‘Your parents are from home.'

‘They were not at home last night either.'

‘That was different,' she said illogically. ‘If I am not to be arrested and thrown into prison, then I would like to go back to Highbeck. Susan and I can board a stage.'

Susan gave a little gasp at this, making James smile. The maid was not at all happy with that idea. Did it have something to do with Sam? he wondered. ‘That I will not allow. When you go, you go back with me. And there is no question of you being arrested,' he said firmly.

‘No?'

‘Of course not.'

‘How soon can we go?' She was desperate for Highbeck and the restful sympathy of her aunts and wished she had never left. Nothing had been gained and she felt worse than before. Her one consolation was the presence of James, who was determined to look after her and prove her innocence. She wondered why he bothered, but she was very glad of it.

‘I have to see some people while I am in town and also deliver your aunt's packet to Mr Smithson,' he told her. ‘And we are engaged to meet your mama this evening, though I wonder if you are not too fatigued and ought to rest. You need to recover from the news of your husband's death and the journey here…'