More locks, more tunnels, more stretches of woodland in between meadows dotted with grazing cattle and fields full of ripening wheat. The familiar scenery should have calmed Matty, but her mind was still in turmoil. She’d run a huge risk taking on this man with his unknown past, but the real trouble was that she would miss him if he left now. She would miss his merry laugh—miss even his teasing. Which was the most worrying thing of all.
When the sun was setting in a pearly grey and pink sky, Matty gave the order to stop. ‘We’re nearly at Kings Langley,’ she told him. ‘We’ll spend the night here.’
‘How do you know we’re nearly at Kings Langley?’ He was looking around, puzzled.
How best to explain? Every experienced canal traveller knew where they were on the waterways. You knew by the sweep of the canal and by the hills on the horizon. You knew by the angle of the sun and by the stars and moon at night. And here, there happened to be a good landmark. She replied, ‘I know we’re a mile from Kings Langley because of that.’ She pointed to an old black-and-white timbered building on the edge of a hamlet full of thatched cottages. ‘It’s an inn—do you see it? They always make the canal folk welcome and they have stabling for Hercules, so I suggest we moor up and have an early night. We’ve made good progress today.’
Jack scanned the horizon as if reluctant to stop. ‘How much farther do we have to go before we reach Aylesbury?’
‘At this rate we should be there within a couple of days—if the weather stays fair. I’m doing no more night marches.’
He nodded. ‘Very well. I’ll take Hercules to the inn. Are we going to eat there?’
He looked hopeful, but Matty hesitated. ‘I don’t know. I’ve got some bread and cheese, as well as some apples...’
‘Come on,’ he coaxed her. ‘Something hot will do you good, young Matty. Build up those muscles of yours. And it’ll be my treat. Right?’
Oh, my. Jack Rutherford really did trouble her sorely. That he was strong and capable was obvious; indeed, she would never have got this far without him. But he was such a distraction! She found herself overtaken by yet more unwanted thoughts as she watched him stroll off towards the village with Hercules. Somehow, the man had managed to have a most unwelcome impact on both her brain and her traitorous body.
Eating at the inn turned out to be not the best of ideas, either, because Jack attracted attention the minute they entered—chiefly from the landlady and her two daughters, who rushed to serve him.
Needless to say, they hardly gave Matty a single glance. Jack patted her on the shoulder as they ate their meal. ‘Never mind, Captain Matty,’ he said consolingly. ‘Give yourself a year or so to grow a few inches and build some muscle, then you’ll be fighting the girls off.’
She almost choked on her food and solicitously he patted her on the back. ‘There now. Did that mouthful go down the wrong way? Drink up your cider. Although,’ he went on as he handed her the glass and she gulped it down, ‘you really ought to develop a taste for a more manly tipple. Ale, or whisky, even—now whisky’s a proper man’s drink. Have you finished with your food? Can’t eat any more? Very well, then—shall I pay the bill?’
Still speechless, she nodded and dabbed her streaming eyes with her handkerchief while the landlady dealt with Jack’s payment. ‘Thank you, good sir,’ Matty heard her saying. The woman was actually blushing, for goodness’ sake. ‘Now, we couldn’t help but wonder,’ she went on, ‘are you and your young companion on one of them canal boats?’
‘We are.’ Jack smiled back at her. ‘We travel where we please, you know? There’s nothing better than waking up in the morning and hearing the sound of water lapping all around. You look ahead and there’s the canal stretching off into the distance—and you never know what the day will have in store. Wonderful! The world is just waiting to be explored.’
‘Well,’ the landlady said. ‘You are a poet, aren’t you? I love a bit of poetry, I do. So you’re fond of your boat, sir—but, you know, if you’ve a fancy for a more comfortable berth tonight, I can always find accommodation for you here. And I’ve a fine home-brewed ale I keep for my special guests...’
Matty didn’t stay to hear the rest. She was heading for the door by the time Jack bade farewell to the landlady and caught her up. ‘Hey,’ he was calling indignantly. ‘Hey, Matty! Wait for me.’
She swung round to face him, her hands on her hips. ‘Are you quite sure you don’t want a—“a more comfortable berth”, Jack?’
He laughed. ‘No, thanks.’ He leaned closer and lowered his voice. ‘Any more of that ale of hers and I don’t think I’d have a clear enough head for hammering in the tiller or turning a windlass. Or, come to think of it, for whatever other tasks you’ve got in store for me, Captain Matty.’ He clapped her on the back in a friendly fashion. ‘Besides, we’re partners, aren’t we? The boat’s my home and that’s where I’ll sleep. Everywhere you go, I go.’
Which very words came back to her rather unnervingly, very soon.
Jack stepped on board the boat first and stood on the deck, yawning and stretching as the first stars peeped out of a darkening sky. And he thought to himself, Now for a bit of mischief. Sorry, young Matty, but I’m afraid I just cannot resist it.
‘So, Captain,’ he announced to her. ‘We need to start off at the crack of dawn, you say? As far as I’m concerned, it’s been a long day, so I don’t think I’ll have the slightest trouble getting to sleep. Now I think I spotted a spare mattress rolled up in that cabin of yours below, so I suggest I spread it out next to your bed. I assume you’ll have no problem with that?’
He noticed her colour heighten slightly. He knew it was really quite wicked of him, but she looked utterly delightful when she went pink.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘well, I—’ She thought for a minute, then said defiantly, ‘I snore.’
‘Listen, young Matty. In Spain we soldiers sometimes slept twelve to a tent, packed top to tail like sardines in a barrel. If snoring is the worst you get up to, I’ll count myself extremely lucky, believe me. So let’s just squash in together down there and, I assure you, I’ll be asleep in no time. Like I said, it’s been a long day. You go first.’
Oh, my. Matty’s pulse was hammering as she glanced at the hatch leading down to the cabin. ‘No,’ she burst out. ‘No. You mustn’t...’
‘Mustn’t what?’ He asked the question with complete innocence.
She swallowed on her rather dry throat. ‘I’ve already warned you that I snore.’
‘In that case I’ll give you a poke in the ribs,’ he offered. ‘That’ll soon cure you.’
‘Don’t you dare!’ She braced herself. ‘Anyway—there’s worse than that.’
‘Worse? Really?’
‘I—I have nightmares!’ she declared rather wildly. ‘I walk in my sleep. Who knows, I might even lash out and hit you!’
‘Now that,’ he said solemnly, ‘truly does sound terrifying.’
She stepped back a little. ‘Terrifying?’
‘Yes. And so, Captain, I surrender. I’ll make myself comfortable up here on the deck.’ He looked around. ‘Fortunately it looks like being a fine night.’
She sat rather suddenly on one of the deck stools and heaved in a deep breath. ‘Look, Jack. This whole trip was probably a very bad idea.’ She shook her head. ‘I was quite wrong to allow you to come with me. I should have travelled by myself.’
He pulled up a stool to sit opposite her before saying in a quiet voice, ‘Now, let’s both of us think for a minute, shall we? Have I let you down yet, young Matty?’
‘No. No, you haven’t. But...’
‘Listen,’ he went on in the same surprisingly gentle voice. ‘I’ve told you that I’m only too happy to help you and I mean it, since I’ve not exactly got a lot of pressing business at the moment. My shop was a dead loss, as you know—hardly surprising, as I haven’t a clue about antiques. And as it happens, I’m actually rather enjoying this boating adventure. So why not try to explain yourself a bit more?’
He saw her flinch again. ‘Explain what, exactly?’
‘Explain to me,’ he said, ‘why this whole trip is so important to you.’
She hesitated. To her dismay, she was finding she liked Jack Rutherford more and more. She was having to admit that his jokes and his teasing lifted her spirits. Also—which was most ridiculous of all—she actually felt safer when he was around.
Safer? Oh, Matty. With a man like him?
‘I’m waiting,’ he prompted quietly. ‘But take your time.’
‘I want,’ she began, ‘more than anything, to find the Roman site I spoke of near Aylesbury. Not for the money, Jack, but for my father’s sake. Do you understand?’
‘I do.’
‘I want to find out everything I can about the settlement he believed existed there,’ she went on, ‘and tell my father’s colleagues about it, so they can continue the work that he would have done.’ She looked straight at Jack. ‘As my father lay dying, I promised him I would do this.’
She fought down the sudden stab of heartache that came with those dark memories. Jack was silent a moment before he said, ‘And I imagine you’re the kind of person who always keeps your promises.’
‘I like to think so. And I hope that you keep your promises, too.’ She lifted her eyes to his in direct challenge. ‘Do you?’
‘I do,’ he said gravely.
She looked at him a little longer then said, ‘Very well. But we’d better be up early tomorrow, since we need to leave by six.’
He grinned suddenly. ‘Aye aye, Captain Matty. And, as I said, I’m happy to sleep on deck.’ He was already looking around the boat. ‘I see you’ve a sheet of tarpaulin over there. I was thinking that I could rope it up between the cabin roof and the stern rail, so it will give me shelter if it rains. And I’ll take that spare mattress from below, if that’s all right with you.’
Though she’d hesitated at first, he now saw her give an almost inaudible sigh of relief. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, what an excellent idea. But—’
‘No “buts”. From what you told me, anything’s better than the sound of your snoring and your nightmares.’
She looked a little embarrassed. ‘At least it’s a warm night.’
‘You think I care if it’s hot or cold? Listen,’ Jack declared, ‘I’ve camped on mountainsides in Spain where the snow was eight inches deep!’
‘Boasting again,’ she said lightly and he realised how glad he was to see that familiar gleam of amusement in her eyes. ‘Next you’ll be telling me you fought off mountain wolves single-handed.’
‘Well,’ he said, ‘as a matter of fact...’
‘Enough!’ She held up her hands now and she was almost—almost laughing. ‘I know you and I declared a truce. But I warn you, I could change my mind.’
He hung his head, feigning penitence. ‘Aye aye, Captain.’
‘I can do without the “Captain” bit, as well,’ she replied crisply. ‘Will you bring up the mattress, or shall I?’
‘I’ll get it. And perhaps you can spare me a blanket or two?’
It didn’t take him long to get everything neatly rigged. After Matty had brought up the mattress she glanced at the tarpaulin awning, hesitated a moment, then said, ‘Right. I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight—Jack.’
‘Goodnight, young Matty. Sleep well.’
Jack began softly whistling to himself as he spread out the mattress. But he stopped once she’d gone down the wooden steps to her cabin again and he thought, She was young—but by God, she was brave. All in all, he reckoned she had twice the courage of many of the men he’d fought alongside in battle.
He made a few adjustments to the tarpaulin shelter, then pulled off his boots and settled down on the mattress, his hands clasped behind his head.
Yes, he admired Matty. And he felt she was beginning to have a grudging respect for him, though he guessed she’d be very angry indeed once she realised he’d known all along that she was a woman. He’d already noted the way she stared at him almost in disbelief whenever he pushed her too far with the ‘Captain Matty’ business. Surely soon she would challenge him outright—and then she would be absolutely furious with him for his deception!
But not quite as mad as she would be if she knew his other secret. If she ever found out that he’d only teamed up with her because she was heading for his home.
Jack wanted Charlwood back for good. That was his one and only goal in life. Without a doubt, he could have made the journey to Charlwood more quickly and more easily some other way. Indeed, canal travel was trickier than he’d thought—he could still feel that bruise on his ribs where the tiller had whacked him that first night. But if he’d travelled by road, he reckoned he might well have had Fitz’s men to contend with. Fitz wanted Jack ruined and the trickery with the bracelet was probably just the start. It was quite likely he might have paid men to watch the toll roads and posting houses to see if Jack passed through—but surely Fitz would never, ever think of looking on the canals.
And of course there was that other, even more important reason why Jack had decided to travel with Matty.
She had been inside Charlwood itself. She had glimpsed evidence that two years ago Fitz had been composing the fake ransom letter there, to force Jack’s mother into marriage. If—and it was a big ‘if’—the document was still lying forgotten somewhere in Charlwood’s library, Jack might have exactly what he needed to confront Fitz directly and force the man to confess his vicious scheming.
Jack turned again on the mattress. Normally he fell asleep almost immediately—it was a soldier’s gift, they said, to grab sleep where you could, because you never knew when or if you’d get the chance again. But he kept being disturbed by tantalising thoughts of Matty. Wondering if maybe she was wearing that flimsy little nightshirt he’d glimpsed folded neatly by her pillow...
She’d told him she sleepwalked. With just a bit of luck, she might sleepwalk up here and snuggle up next to him under the blanket. He grinned to himself. He wouldn’t mind if she snored, he really wouldn’t.
His arousal disturbed him. He fought down his surging thoughts. Hands off her, right?
And, sighing only a little, Jack fell asleep at last.
Matty had indeed put on her nightshirt and climbed into her narrow bed down below, but she kept the lamp burning for quite a while and listened to Jack Rutherford tramping about overhead, tripping on a rope and cursing under his breath. All was quiet now, which meant that hopefully he was asleep—but awake or asleep, he worried her more and more. Because she still couldn’t understand why he’d been so eager to come along with her.
Perhaps he needed to get out of London in a hurry because of debts, or maybe some of his fake antiques had landed him in hot water. Nothing about him would surprise her, yet she had blindly put her trust in him.
Oh, Matty. You fool.
And she was a fool in more ways than one, because whenever Jack Rutherford merely raised his eyebrows at her in that teasing way of his, she felt her common sense vanishing into thin air.
She’d always been caught between two worlds—she knew that. She didn’t truly fit into the lives of the canal folk, or the genteel society of the Oxford scholars her father had once known. So far it hadn’t mattered in the slightest, because marriage was the last thing on her mind—indeed, men in general were the last thing on her mind. She shivered a little as the dark memories she thought she’d swept aside threatened to resurface.
But there was something about Jack Rutherford that unsettled her badly. And it wasn’t just that he was handsome, it wasn’t just the way he teased her. Strangely enough, she felt there was something vulnerable about him—indeed, sometimes those merry blue eyes of his looked almost haunted, as if he, too, was remembering things he’d much prefer to forget.
Something inside her was hurting a little, for him. Slowly she rose from her bed to extinguish the lamp, telling herself she was being completely ridiculous—he wouldn’t want her sympathy, and most certainly he wouldn’t want anything else from her.
Suddenly she found herself recalling that woman—Vanessa—who’d been at his side at the London auction. Now, she was much more his type—beautiful, worldly, sophisticated. Matty was the very last kind of female Jack would be attracted to. And anyway, how could he even feel any liking for her, when all she had done—most of the time anyway—was to order him around?
‘Aye aye, Captain,’ he liked to say with a grin.
At least she offered him some amusement, she thought rather tightly to herself. And in return, he was helping her to fulfil her promise to her father.
‘I’m so sorry I let you down, Papa,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry I was so weak. So stupid.’
Forcing back the bitter self-rebuke, she climbed back into her bed and tried to concentrate on sleep, for she had a long day ahead of her tomorrow. But still she lay awake—chiefly because she was all too aware of that scoundrel of a man on the deck above. She was pretty sure that he wouldn’t be having any difficulty at all in slumbering soundly. Muttering under her breath, Matty pulled the blanket over her head and slipped at last into restless dreams.