The Reluctant Escort. Mary Nichols

I was not laughing at you but at myself. How anyone could be such a gowk, I do not know.’

      ‘Gowk?’

      ‘Fool, Molly. I am a fool. I have fallen for a ploy as old as time.’

      ‘Then will you take me to London? To Mama?’

      ‘I doubt your sudden arrival would please your mama.’

      ‘Oh, she might ring a peal over me to start with but I shall turn her up sweet, then she will take me out and about with her.’

      The idea amused him even more than knowing Molly had inadvertently played into Lady Connaught’s hands. Harriet would be furious. It was almost worth considering just to discomfit her. But that would not be fair on Molly. And between the Red Lion and London were a great many miles and every one of them fraught with danger. Miss Molly Martineau must be returned to Stacey Manor.

      He turned into the inn yard and dismounted before lifting her down and setting her on her feet. He ordered the ostler to look after the horses and escorted her inside. Not until he had bespoken a room and tipped a chambermaid to help her to bed did he feel free to go in search of Frank.

      Frank Upjohn, once a sergeant in the Norfolk Regiment and now his servant, had taken two rooms along the corridor. Duncan tiptoed along and quietly let himself in, but Frank had been watching for him and was wide awake, sitting by the window.

      ‘You’re late, Captain,’ he said. ‘I had all but given you up for lost.’

      ‘I was delayed.’

      ‘Yes, I saw her. A pretty little filly, no doubt, but a distraction we could well do without.’

      ‘You mistake the matter,’ Duncan said. ‘She is a distant cousin. I shall put her on the Cromer stage when she has rested.’

      ‘No, Captain, you cannot do that, unless you want to upset all our plans. ‘Tis the stage our target will be on.’

      ‘How so?’

      ‘He travels a day early. It were meant to confound anyone with an eye to waylaying him. He will be coming through here in two hours’ time.’

      Duncan swore roundly. Now what was he to do? He could not involve Molly in what he was about to do and he needed to get away quickly after the deed was done. ‘She will have to stay where she is for another day and go on tomorrow,’ he said, hoping Molly would be docile and do as she was told without further argument about sharing his adventures.

      ‘We had no plans to come back here,’ Frank reminded him.

      ‘Then we shall have to change our plans.’

      ‘I don’t like it,’ Frank muttered. ‘Don’t like it at all. Petticoats are the very devil…’

      Duncan laughed. ‘You never said a truer word, old friend, but what would we do without them, eh? But enough of that. Tell me all you have discovered and let’s get down to business.’

       Chapter Two

      Molly woke with a start when a coach rattled into the yard outside her window. For a moment she lay staring at the ceiling, wondering where she was. And then it all came back to her—the ride in the night, the fall from her horse, the comfortable feeling of Captain Stacey’s strong arms around her, and his determination to send her back to Lady Connaught. She sighed heavily. It had been a kind of adventure, she supposed, but only a little one and nothing of any importance had happened. She still did not know his secret.

      She rose and went to open the window. The yard outside was busy with horses being changed on a coach and the passengers were coming into the inn for refreshment. She guessed it was late in the morning, for the smell of roasting beef wafted up to her and reminded her she was hungry. Without a nightgown, she had slept in her underwear and it did not take her long to wash, using cold water from the jug on the wash-stand, and put on her riding habit again. It was crumpled and dirty, but that could not be helped. Having secured her hair as best she could, she went downstairs in search of Captain Stacey.

      ‘He and his friend left two hours since,’ the landlord told her. ‘He left a message that you were to wait here for him.’

      She was puzzled. ‘He did not say to take the stage to Cromer?’

      ‘It left soon after the gentlemen, miss. If that was where you were bound, then you must needs wait until tomorrow.’

      ‘Oh, I see.’ She did not see at all. Unless the Captain had decided to take her to London, after all. But even she could see that was impractical; she had not thought of a long journey when she’d left Stacey Manor; it had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, coming to her as they rode together. She had no change of clothes, no baggage at all. No money either. In the unlikely event of him agreeing, they would have to return to Stacey Manor to make the proper arrangements for a journey.

      Supposing the Captain had abandoned her? He was not at all a chivalrous man; he was the black sheep of the family; he had said so himself. He would have no conscience about leaving her to find her own way, especially if he had met up with a friend. ‘Did he say where they were going?’

      ‘No, miss.’

      ‘But he did say he would be back?’

      ‘Oh, yes, miss. Most particular he was as to that. And I was to see that you did not stir from the premises.’

      ‘In that case, please bring me something to eat. I am starving. I am sure…’ She paused. Was the Captain here under his real name? What was his real name? Would she upset some deep-laid plan by revealing the one she knew him by? ‘My friend will pay.’

      The landlord’s smile did not reveal what he thought about young ladies arriving at his inn in the arms of gentlemen in the early hours; it was not his business, but if she had been a daughter of his he would have spanked her soundly. ‘Do you wish to have it sent to your room?’

      ‘No, I will eat in the dining room. And bring me paper and ink to write a letter, if you please.’

      He conducted her to the dining room and offered her a table by the window where she could see everyone who came and went. Given the writing things she asked for, she sat down and scribbled a note to her godmother—telling her she was safe and well and under Captain Stacey’s protection—which she gave to the innkeeper to put on the next mail-coach, before beginning her meal.

      She had hardly begun to eat when a rider galloped into the yard and dismounted. He was obviously in a great hurry and very agitated. Molly watched as a crowd gathered round him. From their shocked expressions, she gathered he was bringing news of some importance. He left the crowd outside and came into the dining room, where he announced to all and sundry that the Cromer stage had been waylaid by highwaymen on a quiet stretch of the road a dozen miles to the north.

      ‘Was anyone hurt?’ enquired the innkeeper while Molly reflected that if she had not overslept and if Captain Stacey had not decided to disappear she would have been on that coach. That really would have been an adventure and she was rather cross that she had missed it.

      ‘No. But they made everyone get out and they searched the coach very thorough,’ the man said. ‘They took Sir John Partridge’s gold and his watch and papers, but they let the ladies keep their jewellery.’

      ‘Where was the guard? Did he not try to stop them?’

      ‘The stage carried no guard. Sir John’s man had a pistol but he was so slow fetching it out, he was useless. The high toby took it from him as easy as you please.’

      ‘Then what happened?’

      ‘They made everyone return to their seats and told the coachman to drive on. Sir John demanded to know their names, as if they would be foolish enough to give them to him. One of them laughed and said he was called the Dark Knight.’

      ‘Where were you when all this was happening?’