Jessica (13 page)

“Why does it matter so much? Let it be, Nicholas, for tonight is the last time anyway.”

“It is a matter of the law, Jessica.” He looked from the doorway toward the rowan tree. “We could perhaps reach the horse.” His arm slipped around her waist. “You should not have come, for this is too dangerous.”

“I had to warn you....” She broke off as his arm tightened, drawing her across the open doorway to the other side where he looked at the woods for any sign of danger.

“Well, Jessica, it grieves me to let the ring slip through my fingers, but I value my life above the letter of the law. Below where we stand, in the crypt, is stored so much contraband that I think Varangian must have culled a vast fortune since this all began.”

“He needed it,” she murmured and he glanced quickly at her. But then a late roll of thunder echoed over Ladywood and a dog began to bark furiously at the sudden sound. It was Nipper.

Nicholas seized the moment, dragging her behind him as he bent low to run across the open ground toward the rowan tree. They reached its shelter and crouched down to listen. Nipper was silenced at last and the stillness returned.

Quickly, Nicholas untethered the horse and mounted, glancing around before reaching down to lift Jessica. As she took his hand the pistol shot rang out and his fingers went limp. She screamed as he slid forward over the horse’s shoulders, falling heavily to the ground at her feet. The horse was gone then, its hooves thudding dully on the wet ground as it turned instinctively in the direction of Woodville House. Jessica went to Nicholas, crying out as she saw the slow trickle of blood oozing across his forehead. His eyes were closed and he did not move.

“Oh, Miss Jess, you hadn’t ought to have come here.”

“Jamie?” She looked up as Jamie bent over to look at the unconscious man.

“ ‘Tis only a graze, which be a pity as he’ve got to die now,” he said softly, reloading the pistol with slow, steady hands.

“No. No, please, Jamie!” Her hand reached out, trembling.

Beyond him she saw Cluffo, a torch held high. “They’m both dangerous, Jamie, you knows that,” muttered the groom anxiously.

Her eyes fled back to Jamie. “Your identities are known anyway,” she said quickly. “To kill us would merely add murder to the list of charges against you. Smuggling means deportation, but murder means the gallows.”

Jamie nodded. “I know that well enough, but I don’t know that you’re being truthful in this, Jess. By the looks of you I’d say you’d tell me anything to spare his life.”

“I would, but it so happens that I am speaking the truth.” She met his gaze as squarely as she could, for she must convince him.

“Happen you’re an honest woman most of the time, Jess Durleigh, but I’ve a sight to lose should I choose wrong now.”

“You haven’t, Jamie. You haven’t anything to lose. This was the last run anyway, wasn’t it? Well, take everything and go
—
go to America like you told me you planned.”

“And what of him?”

“He can do nothing to stop you.”

“He can get the militia on our tails quick as lightning. We’d not make it to Bristol.”

“How long do you need?”

“For Bristol? A day.”

“I can give you a day.”

“How?”

“I’ll keep him safe for a day, what more can I say?” She glanced at the faces at the edge of the torchlight, but she could not recognize any of them. Was Francis there? Or would he keep from sight?

“Get the line moving,” muttered Jamie, jerking his head at Cluffo.

“You ain’t going to listen to her, Jamie?”

“Do as I say, or the tide’ll turn and we’ll miss the last pickings.”

“What of me, Jamie? She knows me now.”

“Come with me to Bristol or hang.”

“You decided to trust her?” Cluffo looked at her with hate in his eyes.

Jamie nodded. “I’ve no desire to hang for my crimes, my friend. I dursn’t risk that our names are known. Woodville ain’t no revenue man, he’s a government man if ever I saw one. There ain’t no more palms to cross with silver now. Get out now and live to fight another day, eh?” Jamie smiled.

“But we’re putting us selves in her hands.”

“I trust her, Cluffo, and I’ve good reason to. Haven’t I, Jess?”

She nodded.

Cluffo shook his head agitatedly. “But, Dolly! What of her?”

“Dolly wouldn’t leave Henbury for a small fortune, you know that. Now get going, Cluffo, or I’ll end your botherings here and now.” Jamie’s pistol moved toward the man’s chest.

Cluffo turned away and the small group of men melted away through the ruins toward the beach where a light was flashing on the hidden ship.

In the distance a hound was baying and Jamie glanced toward the sound irritatedly. “Varangian’s out again!”

She looked at him, “He’s not one of you?”

“Varangian? You must be jesting. He’s like a ferret after the poachers every night. He’s too honest for my peace of mind is that one.”

“Francis has nothing to do with the ring?”

“No.”

“Then who is the leader?”

Jamie smiled. “You’re talking to him, Jess Durleigh. This ring is mine and mine alone.”

“Oh, Jamie, you could have set that brain of yours to something safe and legal, and you could have done so well for yourself.”

“Ah, but safe and legal would bore the tail off me. Just like marrying Varangian would have done for you, for I knows you well, Jess.”

“And will you leave no sweetheart behind?”

“The only wench I ever had a fancy for have taken to mixing with the nobs. A farmer’s daughter, chestnut-haired and with a light in her eye fit to spark an icicle.”

She looked steadily at him. “I’m sorry, Jamie.”

“There ain’t no need. ‘Tis nothing I’ll pine away over
—
not Jamie Pike.” He smiled. “ ‘Tis one of the injustices of life that I drags to mind when I’ve a notion the fire inside me is burning low.”

She looked away, brushing the thick gouts of blood from Nicholas’ face with the wet cloth of her mantle.

“What have the Woodville’s got then, Jess? Tell me that? For first it were that bad lot, Philip, and now this one.”

“There’s no answer to that question.”

“Well, happen you’ve chosen more wisely this time.” He turned to look toward the sea. As he stared, the light on the ship ceased to flash. “It’s nearly done now.”

Down in the bay a donkey brayed.

“But if Francis is out in Ladywood how will you get through?”

“By going right across Varangian Park, that’s how. I’m wise to him now. I know that when he sets out after the poachers he takes all his men with him. Like a dashed army they are. Varangian is daft not guarding his rear. A fine general he’d make, and no mistake.”

“Take care, Jamie.”

“I shall. Reckon this must be the last time I sees you then, Jess Durleigh.”

She stared at him, seeing in him a faint ghost from the past: a tousled-haired boy who had kissed her behind the schoolhouse, and then tugged her hair when she had told her best friend Rosamund.

Through the trees a line of faint lights moved along the shore line and Jamie tucked the pistol into his belt. “It’s time I went. A day now, I have your word on it?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll get him into shelter in the abbey, but that’s all I’m doing for you.”

“Yes.” She stood as he bent to grab Nicholas beneath the arms.

He dragged him slowly across the grass and into the room where earlier, she and Nicholas had stood wondering how to escape. Inside he laid him comfortably on the hard, dry ground.

“He’ll be well enough. A mortal bad headache, but no more than that.”

“I hope so,” she said anxiously, staring at Nicholas’ ghastly paleness.

“I knows what I’m talking about. Good-bye then, Jess Durleigh.”

“Good-bye, Jamie. And good luck.”

He caught her hand and pulled her near, kissing her on the lips. “And don’t go telling your best friend this time neither,” he murmured, releasing her abruptly. Then he was gone. She heard his footsteps through the long grass before the night swallowed him.

Nicholas lay so still she thought time and time again that Jamie had been wrong, that he was dead. She cradled his head on her lap, the tears trickling down her cheeks as she pushed her hand inside his shirt to feel the steady beating of his heart.

The men’s urgent voices jerked her into alertness again. Through the doorway she could see their silhouettes against the stream.

“Us’ll have to swim across here.”

“Devil take it, Cob. I can’t swim.”

“You’ll have to, or get catched by Varangian’s hounds. Hear ‘em?”

The noise of the hounds carried clearly on a gust of wind.

“Drownded or Taunton jail, ‘tis a mortal hard choice.”

“For you, but not for me. This here be one poacher as isn’t going to get his self catched.” The taller of the two slid down the bank and into the water. “Come on now, and I’ll give a hand. The hounds can’t follow our scent over water.”

“I’m coming, Cob. Lord help me.” The smaller figure followed. “And all for a miserable rabbit I could have catched on the common, and all.”

Silently, Jessica watched the two men’s heads in the deep, smooth water. She heard one choking and gulping, and then the one called Cob had his friend secure and bore him across the stream to the other side just as Francis’ hounds burst from the wood. They were followed by the keepers on horseback and by men on foot carrying torches. Pistol shots ripped the night as the two fugitives scrambled up the opposite bank and vanished into the trees beyond.

Then she realized that the hounds had picked up a new scent. Her arms tightened protectively around Nicholas as the animals began to yelp again and came, tails wagging, toward the room where she knelt. Someone shouted. It was Francis.

“Hold them back, you fools, or they’ll tear anyone they catch to pieces.”

Someone whistled and the hounds paused almost in the doorway, whining regretfully, but nonetheless obeying the command to return. Francis’ horse threw a shadow across the doorway and she saw the pistol he held, rising until it was leveled at the room.

“Come out, or I’ll set the dogs on you.”

“Francis?” Her voice was small and frightened.

The pistol lowered. “Who is that?”

“It’s me, Jessica.” She was almost weeping again.

He dismounted, snapping his fingers for a torch. The wavering flame sent the shadows reeling as he entered, staring in amazement at the strange sight that met his eyes.

“What goes on here? Is Woodville dead?”

“No, just unconscious.”

Francis crouched and turned Nicholas’ face toward him, nodding. “A bullet scrape, no more. He’s been lucky. But who did it?”

She hesitated. She had promised Jamie a day, and a day he would have. “I don’t know. I didn’t see who did it.”

Francis’ blue eyes studied her. “Why are you both here on my land in the middle of the night?”

She did not answer.

His eyes lightened. “I can put my own conclusions then? Once a whore always a whore, Jessica?”

Still she said nothing.

He got to his feet. “He’ll have to be got to the house and the physician must see that wound.” Turning, he called to his men and in a short while Nicholas was being lifted over the back of a horse.

Francis mounted, watching Jessica’s anxious face as the horse carrying Nicholas was led slowly away in the direction of Varangian Hall. “You had best ride double with me, Jessica.” He held out his hand to her and she took it.

He lifted her lightly before him, his arm steadying her as the horse shifted at the heavier weight. Then, with one final glance across the river where the poachers had made their escape, he waved his arm and the men withdrew.

They moved silently through the dark wood where the wind had risen to make a hissing, whispering sound through the trees, bending the branches and causing the wet leaves to flap. The road above Applegarth was deserted as Francis reined in, turning to a nearby keeper.

“Get into Henbury and rouse the physician. Then go to Woodville House and tell them what has happened.”

Jessica touched her arm. “And Applegarth? Tamsin does not know what has happened, either.”

He looked at her as if contemplating refusing her, then he nodded. “And tell Miss Davey at the cottage below here, that her mistress is at Varangian Hall and that all is well.”

The man kicked his heel and the horse turned, leaping away down the rocky incline, its hoofbeats ratting long after it had passed from sight. A slight sound caught Jessica’s ears and she turned sharply, seeing the sudden interest of the hounds whose tails were wagging as they looked into the undergrowth.

“Nipper?” Jessica slipped from Francis’ horse and went to the thick, dense covering of bracken.

The puppy crawled out on his belly, whining. He looked up at her with sorrowful eyes. Jessica glanced at the trees beyond the bracken. Was Jamie there? Or had he left Nipper behind?

Francis looked at the puppy. “That’s Pike’s mongrel. Give him to Chandler.”

She picked up Nipper and handed his wet little body to the man who urged his horse closer. The puppy whined again and struggled slightly, but seemed disinclined to make much of an effort.

Francis helped her onto his horse again and the party moved more quickly now along the road toward the great gates of Varangian Hall. A few lights blazed from the windows, reflecting on the ornamental lake where the boats were drawn up onto the grass. There were no pretty colored lanterns now, no lights illuminating the fountains and statues, and Jessica’s heart was heavy. She sat quietly on the horse as Francis dismounted, watching the men carefully lift Nicholas’ body and carry him into the house.

Francis reached up to help her dismount. “The physician will not be long,” he muttered, as if reluctant to say anything comforting.

“Please, Francis, do not persist in being so unkind to me, for I do not deserve it. I have done nothing for which you should blame me.” The shock of all that had happened brought tears to her eyes again, and she knew that if he said one cruel word now she would cry.

He began to walk into the house. “You had best come in, for I believe there is much we should say. To clear matters up, if nothing else.”