Chapter Seven

 

Jake grew steadily more impatient. There was a crisp wind blowing, and he feared it might come on to rain. Besides, he was anxious to get Clementina back under his grandmother’s roof, where Cullen could be sent for and arrangements could be made to remove all possibility of her succumbing to a scheme so disastrous to her happiness. Whether she could be persuaded to the alternative he proposed was another matter, and a wayside inn was no place to engage in the form of persuasion he had in mind.

But as the minutes passed and Clementina put in no appearance, anxiety began to gnaw at him. Uneasily recalling the end of their last conversation, he could not but wonder if his careless remark about matrimony had driven her into flight.

He went out into the yard just in case she should be waiting in the phaeton. She was not there, and the ostler who held his horses had not seen her. About to weave his way back through the several carriages thronging the yard, the earl heard a hail from behind.

‘Jake, old fellow! Just the man we’re looking for.’

Turning, Sothern saw his friend, Sir Harry Blaine, just dismounting, and Theo Farleigh, still on horseback and waving a whip. Both men were generously dust-spattered, their horses in a lather of sweat.

‘What in the world are you two doing here?’

‘Her ladyship sent us after you,’ Harry answered, giving his horse into the charge of a groom. ‘By God, what a chase! I could do with a gallon of ale.’

‘Do you mean my grandmother sent you?’

‘Well, it wasn’t Maud, old fellow, I can tell you that.’

‘But why?’ demanded Sothern, mystified.

‘All in good time, my friend, all in good time. Wet my whistle first, or I won’t get the words out.’

Sir Harry stomped off in the direction of the taproom, but Farleigh had come up with them by now, and he laid a hand on Sothern’s shoulder.

‘Your young lady’s guardian turned up, Jake. Lady Staplegrove sent us to tell you that the man and his son are on their way to Dunhythe. What’s more, they think you’re escorting Clementina. Have you found her, by the by?’

‘I had,’ Jake replied, ‘but I very much fear she may have given me the slip again.’

They pushed their way after Sir Harry into the busy inn, and over a jug or two of ale his friends told Sothern of Major Henlow’s visit to his grandmother. In return Jake explained how he had come to find Clementina, and the reason for his still being at this particular hostelry.

‘But if she meant to go to your man Cullen, why should she run off again?’ Blaine asked. ‘Ain’t as if you was any danger to her.’

Sothern refrained from telling his friends the one reason why he feared Clementina might wish to escape him.

‘And where would she go?’ added Theo. ‘She won’t see Cullen tonight, and she must sleep somewhere.’

Jake frowned. ‘You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. I had better see what I can find out.’

‘Why?’ he was demanding half an hour later, as they all stood in the back yard of the inn. ‘This makes less sense than ever.’

A waiter and no less than two ostlers and a groom had seen Clementina with a young man in the inn yard. She had entered a coach of her own free will and it had driven away towards the north. More puzzling still, the description of the other man did not tally with that of Ellis Henlow as supplied by Lady Staplegrove, or with what both Blaine and Sothern recalled of him.

‘Beggin’ yer honour’s pardon,’ interrupted the waiter, grinning, ‘but it’s t’other gennelman as made no sense.’

Jake bent a frowning gaze upon the man. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Touched in his upper works, if you arst me, yer honour,’ said the waiter. ‘I seen him stood there, a-gaping like a noddy, when your young gennelman speaks to him, yer honour.’

Comprehension struck Sothern at once. He distributed coins among the servants, and led his friends back into the inn.

‘One thing is clear. She has gone with her cousin, Sir Jeremy Hythe.’

‘Not the fellow touched in his upper works?’ demanded Blaine.

‘The poor boy is a half-wit,’ Jake explained. ‘They want Clementina to marry him.’

‘They must have windmills in their heads,’ Theo exclaimed, shocked. ‘She couldn’t marry such a creature.’

‘She won’t, if I have anything to say to it,’ Jake promised grimly. ‘We must act fast. Obviously they are headed for Dunhythe. Equally obviously, Clementina does not know that the Henlows are following. I cannot tell whether we are before or behind that pair, but I suspect the latter. They likely passed us on the road. Now, Harry, you and I will go on to Norfolk.’

‘Whatever you say,’ Blaine agreed equably. ‘As long as there’s a decent inn and a good meal to be had.’

‘We’ll find you one,’ Sothern promised. ‘Theo, I want you to go back to London. Hire whatever carriage they have available here at my expense. There is no time to be lost. I’ve a strong feeling I might need something important, and I want you to fetch it for me.’

Theo sighed. ‘I’m to drive to the devil and back in no time, is that it?’

Jake grinned. ‘Tomorrow will do. They can’t do much harm in what little there is left of the day. And that’s all the chance they are going to get, trust me.’

Darkness had long fallen by the time the travellers reached Lodeton, to which small Norfolk town Mr Cullen had directed Lord Sothern. Settled comfortably at the Red Lion, and with a good dinner inside them, Jake then dragged Sir Harry Blaine from his cognac to go in search of the little village some few miles distant which served the estate of the late Sir Clement Hythe.

The Bear was the single small inn at Dunhythe, and its genial host, Mr Huxtable, was gratified to be hailed by name by the London swell who had entered the place on this late April evening. When he learned that Mr Cullen—‘as good a man as ever stepped’—had commended his house to Lord Sothern, he expanded visibly and was drawn out with ease on the subject of Dunhythe and its inmates.

‘A big day it be, with the new squire coming home to roost, m’lord.’

‘That would be Sir Jeremy, I take it?’

‘Aye, Sir Jeremy that be, poor lad. For he’s a nice enough young man, for all he’s missing half his wits.’

Jake probed gently, and learned that Sir Jeremy had arrived with his mother, setting all in a bustle up at the house, by all Mr Huxtable could discover. For scarcely had they been settled when Mrs Henlow’s husband had turned up with her other son, Mr Ellis. Miss Margery had been in a rare taking by what the footman had said when he’d come down the village for supplies.

‘Miss Margery?’ enquired Sothern, brows raised.

‘Aye, Margery Plumstead, that be, m’lord. She as was governess to Miss Clementina. Well, more like a housekeeper these last months, looking after the place until Sir Jeremy should take it into his head to come and live there.’

Unable to contain himself, Sir Harry rapped on the table. ‘And Miss Clementina? What of her, man?’

Sothern’s warning hand on his arm stopped him, and Jake intervened. ‘You were saying, Huxtable?’

The landlord looked from one to the other with puzzled eyes. ‘Funny that be, you asking after Miss Clementina, sir. I thought she’d be with them, sure, for the banns has been posted more than three weeks now.’

A cold hand gripped Jake’s heart. ‘Banns?’

‘Aye, m’lord. Though not one o’ we expected as how Sir Jeremy and Miss Clementina would make a match of it.’

Sothern paled. Seeing it, Blaine gripped his arm and drew him a little apart.

‘By God, Jake, what’s to do?’ he demanded in a lowered tone. ‘If the girl ain’t there what the dickens are they playing at?’

‘It’s what they had planned all along,’ Jake answered quietly. ‘Clementina might have complied, but for a vile threat that was made. She meant to go to Cullen to try and arrange an alternative, but I doubt it would satisfy the Henlows.’

‘Riddles, riddles,’ exclaimed Sir Harry impatiently. ‘Is she with them or no? That’s all you have to find out.’

Jake shook his head. ‘It is not all. But it’s the first priority.’ Swiftly he stepped back to the landlord. ‘Listen, Huxtable, I need your help. I must get to speak with this Miss Margery you mention. Can you get a message to her, do you suppose?’

Huxtable hesitated. But as Jake brought out his purse his eyes glistened and he licked his lips and winked. ‘Nothing easier, m’lord.’

‘Good. Then ask her to meet me here early tomorrow. Tell her it is vital to Miss Clementina’s happiness.’

Intrigued, but delighted with the gold coins that slipped from his lordship’s palm to his own, the landlord promised to do as he was bid.

After a restless night Sothern returned alone to the Bear in the early hours, leaving Sir Harry asleep. He found awaiting him not Margery Plumstead, but Sir Jeremy Hythe.

‘I be that sorry, m’lord,’ apologised the landlord, ‘but Sir Jeremy says as how Miss Margery sent him.’

The gangling youth was staring at the newcomer round-eyed from under his protruding brow. As Sothern approached him he backed a little.

‘Come, there is no need to be afraid of me,’ Jake said kindly, holding out a hand. ‘I am a friend of Clementina’s, you know.’

‘Clemmy?’ Jeremy managed, and extended his own hand.

‘Yes,’ Jake affirmed, shaking the hand briefly. ‘Do you know where she is?’ And, when no response was forthcoming, ‘Clemmy. Where is she?’

‘Clemmy’s going to marry me,’ the youth announced proudly.

Jake clenched his teeth. Oh, no, she is not, he thought. Poor devil! What did this boy know of marriage? He changed tack.

‘Margery gave you a message for me, I believe.’

Jeremy nodded. ‘Margery said to come. She can’t.’

‘What did she want you to tell me?’

The youth frowned in an effort of memory. ‘She said—she said…’

‘Take your time,’ Jake urged gently. ‘What did Margery say?’

‘Margery said she must stay with Clemmy.’

Then she was there. A sigh escaped Jake. Now he must get the boy to help him. It was a base trick to serve him, getting him to queer his own pitch, but that could not be helped.

‘Listen, Jeremy,’ he said slowly, ‘if I give you a note, will you take it to Clemmy?’

‘Can’t,’ the youth said positively. ‘Can’t see Clemmy. Clemmy 1ocked up.’

* * *

 

Gingerly, Clementina probed the bruise on the side of her head. The swelling had subsided a little, but it was still tender to the touch. The blinding headache that had prevented her from thinking at all last night had dulled to a monotonous background pain. Had it not been for Margery’s presence, she believed she might have lost her senses entirely. Her old governess had clucked over her as she’d applied cold compresses to the wound. She had made a tisane and obliged Clementina to drink it so that she slept for most of the night.

The key grated in the lock, and Margery Plumstead herself came in, bearing a tray covered with a cloth.

‘Ah, you are awake, my pet,’ she cried joyfully, coming to the bed. ‘And how do you feel this morning?’

Clementina gave her a wan smile. ‘Better.’ She looked at the tray. ‘I hope you have brought something to eat. I’m famished.’

Margery laid the tray down and removed the cloth. ‘Bread and butter, a baked egg, tea, and a lardy cake.’

‘Oh, wonderful,’ exclaimed Clementina, seizing upon a slice of bread.

The governess fetched a shawl from one of the drawers of the dresser and laid it around the girl’s shoulders. She looked on fondly as her erstwhile charge satisfied her immediate hunger. A desiccated female of some sixty years, thin and sallow, with pale grey eyes under greying mousy hair confined under an unbecoming cap, and clad in an old stuff gown that hung loosely on her scarecrow body, she cherished a strong affection for Clementina.

She sat on the bed and leaned forward, adopting a conspiratorial tone. ‘There is something I must tell you, my pet.’

Her mouth full, Clementina only looked a question.

‘There is someone come to Dunhythe to see you—secretly. At least, he does not wish his presence known to the Henlows.’

Clementina’s breath caught. ‘Jake?’

‘Is that his name? Huxtable told me only that he was a lord.’

‘Lord Sothern,’ Clementina confirmed, laying down the cake she had been eating. ‘Where is he?’

‘I don’t know, my pet. I was to meet him at the Bear this morning. But I did not care to leave you, so I sent Master Jeremy. Besides, it would have been difficult to find an excuse to quit my post.’

Clementina sank back against the pillows. ‘You will have to go, Margie. Jeremy will never make Sothern understand that I must escape, for he thinks we are to be married.’

The governess regarded her with pitying eyes. ‘But so does everyone think it, Clemmy. The banns have been read these three Sundays in St Mark’s. I did wonder at it, but it was only when they locked you up last night I thought it strange—although your aunt said it was a punishment for running away and wearing gentleman’s clothing. Though why they should punish you when you had been hurt in that accident I’m sure I don’t know.’

‘It was no accident, Margie, you know it was not.’

Margery pursed her lips. ‘Now, Clemmy, my pet, you are not going to start again with all those taradiddles, are you? As if your dear aunt would dream of raising a hand to you, let alone hitting you with her parasol. I never heard of such a thing. All very well to talk such nonsense last night when you were not yourself, but this morning it is quite another matter.’

‘Margie, you must believe me.’ Clementina sat up and seized the governess’s hands. ‘You do believe me, or you would not have told me Jake had come here.’

A slight blush mantled the governess’s faded cheek. ‘To tell you the truth, my pet, I suspected at once. You need not hide your feelings from me. You have fallen in love, have you not? That is why you ran away. I guessed it, you see. And then when I received a message from this lord I was sure of it. Tell me the whole, Clemmy. I never did like the idea of your marrying Master Jeremy, and if this gentleman is not wholly ineligible—which, if he is indeed a lord, I do not see how he can be, unless—’

‘Oh, Margery, stop,’ begged Clementina. ‘You have it all wrong. I shall have to tell you the whole story.’

But, before she could say anything more, the door opened and Mrs Henlow entered the room.

‘Good morning, Clementina,’ she said pleasantly. ‘Miss Plumstead, leave us, if you please. I wish to talk to my niece alone.’

The governess rose hastily and left the room, throwing a glance at her charge that was meant to convey reassurance. Seeing with what alacrity Margery obeyed her aunt, Clementina’s spirits sank. She recalled that the governess was here on sufferance, for the house belonged to Jeremy, and she could be turned out of it at the Henlows’ pleasure. Small wonder poor Margery was only too eager to please. There was little hope that she could be—or even ought to be—persuaded to help get Clementina out of Dunhythe.

‘I am glad to see you looking more like yourself, my dear,’ Mrs Henlow said in a tone of kindness, coming to the bed.

‘No thanks to you.’

Her aunt sighed. ‘Do not think I took any pleasure in hurting you, my poor child. Indeed, it was the direst necessity that compelled me to take such a drastic measure.’

‘I suppose I should thank God you had not a pistol about you.’

‘How could you think it, my dear? Your death would not serve us in the very least.’

‘How lucky for me!’

‘Dear child, you are talking nonsense, and no wonder. You are obviously still rather unwell. Now that is a pity, for the wedding is arranged for this afternoon.’

Clementina sat bolt upright. ‘What?’

Mrs Henlow smiled. ‘We thought there was little point in delay.’

‘I won’t do it,’ Clementina said flatly.

Her aunt sat on the bed, sighing again. Like her husband, she was dressed some years behind the times, even a little shabbily, the cloth riding-habit she was wont to wear by day a trifle threadbare. As Clementina knew, every penny was squandered on her beloved son.

‘I am afraid you must do it, dear child. You see, our affairs are in a sad way. We did not quite like to burden you with all this, but I am afraid that if we cannot settle our debts the bailiffs will descend upon our house in Rye in a matter of days. Not that it is any longer our house, mortgaged as it is right up to the hilt.’

‘I had not realised things were as bad as that,’ Clementina said, frowning. ‘What was Mr Henlow about, to bring things to such a pass?’

‘It is not all John’s fault, poor man,’ said her aunt, sighing again. ‘My poor Ellis loves to live high. And why should he not?’

‘Perhaps because he has not the means?’

‘Now he has not, but he will. Luckily, he is a sensible boy, and made friends to some purpose at Oxford. He has already made headway in the fashionable set. With the security of this place and the revenue from the estates that will come from your share—’

‘But I am not marrying Ellis, ma’am.’

‘No, indeed, that I would never permit,’ said Mrs Henlow in shocked tones. ‘Why, Ellis is so extremely handsome, it would surprise me if he does not catch a title in addition to the heiress I am certain he must secure.’

Clementina drew a breath. ‘I see. So I am to be the sacrifice to oil Ellis Henlow’s path.’

Ellis’s besotted mother smiled brightly at her. ‘Why, Clementina, that is it in a nutshell. I confess I cannot see why you should object. You will have your home, and you need have nothing to do with my poor Jeremy if you do not wish it. And although one should not speak of such things, of course, there is no point in missishness now. Ellis,’ she said delicately, ‘will more than make up for the obvious defects of his brother.’

‘Oh, be quiet, Aunt! I wonder you are not ashamed to own knowledge of that threat.’

‘In the ordinary way I should be, naturally. But we are females together, and quite alone. It must be admitted that a personable lover is no small compensation to a neglected wife.’

‘Doubtless you speak from experience,’ flashed Clementina.

‘Indeed, no. But allow me some feeling for you, my dear. I do sincerely pity you, situated as you are.’

‘Fiddle. You do not think of me at all, or you would see for yourself how disgusted I must be to be coerced in such a fashion. It is little better than a rape! I am truly sorry for your financial difficulties, but I tell you now that nothing you can say or do will induce me to marry Jeremy, especially after your brutal conduct to me yesterday.’

There was a moment’s pause while Mrs Henlow eyed her consideringly. Then she sighed once more and rose.

‘I am sorry that you have taken up so intransigent an attitude. I had hoped you would acquiesce like a sensible girl. I regret that it will now be up to John and Ellis to use what methods they deem necessary to force you to submit.’

She waited a moment for the implications of her words to sink in. But although Clementina’s heart misgave her, she met her aunt’s look with a defiant stare and her chin up, and said not a word.

With a final small sigh Mrs Henlow turned on her heel and left the room. The key clicked in the lock, and Clementina was left to her own reflections. They were not happy.

In spite of her brave words she was beginning to feel hopelessly trapped. A little coil of terror lay deep inside, for she doubted her ability to fight Ellis off should he be determined to carry out his design.

If only she had not seen Jeremy yesterday, or if Jake had not left her briefly alone in order to arrange about the horse. This idea brought a lump to her throat. Sothern had come after her, had tried to get in contact with her. Surely that must mean more than the cold ring of that word ‘responsibility’. And he had kissed her. Only, with Jake that did not mean anything. She must suppose that a man of his reputed success with the ladies would know well enough how to make his caresses acceptable. It had not, in the past, unless rumour lied, betokened anything more than a passing fancy for any woman. Well, Clementina Hythe was not going to figure in any man’s gallery of past conquests.

The thought brought the present reality crashing in on her, close as she was to a conquest of another sort. Small comfort to recall Jake’s kiss, when there was nothing he could do now to save her. Margery had sent Jeremy to him. That in itself must spell disaster. Whatever poor Jeremy found to say could only alienate Jake’s sympathies. Besides, when he heard of the arrangements for the wedding, would he not suppose that she had agreed, and wash his hands of her?

A solitary tear squeezed its way from the corner of her eye and stole down her cheek. Clementina angrily brushed it away, sternly admonishing herself. This was no way to save herself. She must think and act.

She looked about the room in a frantic sweep, hunting for some form of weapon with which to defend herself. Before her eye could alight on anything suitable, she was startled by the sound of the key in the lock. For a craven moment she knew blind panic, and her heart began to hammer with fear.

Margery entered the room. Relief flooded through her, and she relaxed back against her pillows as the governess came hurrying to the bed.

‘My poor Clemmy, you are as white as a sheet. What is it, my dear?’

Clementina shook her head, but urgently grasped the governess’s hand. ‘Nothing, nothing. Only tell me, have you seen Jeremy? Has he spoken with Jake?’

‘Alas, my pet, he was seized upon by the major as soon as ever he came back. I believe they are rehearsing him in his part. For the ceremony in the church, you know.’

‘Oh, dear Lord, there is no escape! Unless—Margie, you must go to Jake.’

‘But, my love, I—’

‘Please, Margie. I don’t know what he can do, but he must be told that I am being forced into this marriage after all. He knows I do not want it. I beg of you to—’

She broke off as the door opened. Ellis Henlow stood framed in the doorway. She stared at him in some trepidation, clinging tight to Margery’s hand.

That lady, quite scandalised by the appearance in her charge’s bedroom of a male member of the household, began to cluck at once.

‘Mr Ellis, sir, I must beg you to retire. This is most unseemly.’ She put up a hand to one blushing cheek. ‘A gentleman in a lady’s bedchamber!’

‘Quiet, woman,’ ordered Mr Henlow, calmly walking into the room.

‘Sir, I will not be quiet,’ daringly announced the governess, coming forward as if to stand as a screen between the man and Clementina. ‘I declare, I cannot allow—’

With one violent motion of his arm Ellis swept her aside. She fell against the wall, gasping in outrage and fear. Clementina started up in the bed, eyes blazing.

‘You brute! How could you do such a thing?’

A sneer marred the comely countenance. ‘With ease, dear cousin. A pity my father did not see fit to mete out some of the same treatment to you. We might then have been spared a good deal of trouble.’

‘You are the most detestable, vile-humoured man I have ever met. How I wish I had a gun! I would take infinite pleasure in blowing a hole in your head!’

Ellis threw back his head and laughed, a chilling sound, devoid of humour. ‘You are undoubtedly wasted on my brother, Clemmy. But you should not show your temper to me, you know. My rancour is infinitely worse than my pleasure. And that you may command at any time if you will only cease this futile rebellion.’

‘If ever you carry out your design,’ Clementina grated, ‘you will do so with my insensible body, and at no other time.’

The sneer became more marked as he leaned close. ‘That could prove most interesting.’

Clementina spat—full in his face. In a flash his hand shot out, and struck her a stinging blow across the cheek.

‘Ellis!’ roared Major Henlow from the doorway, just as the governess rushed to her charge’s side to clasp her in agitated arms.

Mr Henlow, his face livid still with fury, turned to face his parent.

‘Will you control yourself, sir?’ Major Henlow came swiftly to grasp his son by the arm. ‘I told you, no violence.’

Ellis stepped back, his jaw clenched. Although he accepted his father’s authority it was evident that he resented it. Major Henlow turned to Clementina, who pulled herself from her governess’s arms to face him.

‘My dear child, I must apologise for my son’s rash conduct.’

‘Oh, you need not t-trouble, sir,’ Clementina said, sarcasm rife in her voice, though her lip trembled. ‘I am b-becoming accustomed to the peculiar m-manners obtaining in your f-family.’

The major’s mouth hardened. ‘Clementina, you do yourself no good by such observations. I promise you my intentions towards you are kindly. Strive, I beg of you, to refrain from alienating my affections.’

‘Affections?’ Angry tears started to Clementina’s eyes. ‘You forget, sir, that I had a rare example to guide me as to the nature of true affection. There is no care, no love for me here.’

‘Oh, my pet, how can you say so?’ protested Margery.

Clementina’s hand went out to her. ‘I don’t mean you, Margie, you know I don’t.’

Much gratified, the governess took the hand and held it to her cheek.

‘An affecting spectacle,’ remarked Ellis Henlow. ‘Do you intend to wait all day for my cousin’s reluctant assent, sir? Or do we take matters into our own hands?’

Major Henlow turned a stern countenance upon his step-niece. ‘Clementina, once and for all, will you or will you not do as you are asked?’

There was a pause. Even Margery released the hand she held and stepped back to await the answer. Clementina drew a resolute breath and lifted her chin, her eyes steady on Major Henlow’s face.

‘Do your worst. For I had rather die than submit.’