Jonathan Barrett Gentleman Vampire (141 page)

“Not to worry, she doesn’t yet know the tune is about to change.”

“Jericho,” said Elizabeth, “did you see who left this?”

He’d recovered somewhat from his run. “Only a glimpse of him, Miss. We heard a horse galloping up from the southern branch of the road and presently saw it. His rider was cloaked and muffled. As he came even with our gate, he threw down the packet, turned the horse and went back south again. He’ll be halfway to the Thames by now.”

“Damn,” I said. “I should have been there. I could have followed him, caught and questioned him.”

“And have possibly put Richard in more danger,” said my sister. “You’ll have your chance at them, little brother, when they turn up to collect their ransom. Until then we’ll do what we’re told and give them no suspicion or excuse to hurt Richard.”

I nodded, seeing the sense of it, but wanting to pound more holes in the wall. Then my heart sank as another difficulty raised itself to mind. Though I could gallop all the way to this seaside town in one night given the proper changes of horses, no delays, and a guide who knew the road, I’d still have to find safe shelter before the next sunrise. The limits of my condition chafed as they never had before. I imparted these thoughts to the others.

“Now that is dangerous,” Oliver said. “You talk like you’re going to run off on your own. I won’t hear of it. We’ve more than time enough to get there by coach if we leave right away. Elizabeth and I can look out for you during the day, and by the time you wake tomorrow night we’ll be there.”

“Besides,” Elizabeth added, “they might have people watching the roads and inn, and if you arrived openly that would put the wind up them.”

My impatience to go forth and do something was such that I was ready to offer argument against all sense. But even as I drew breath to do it, Nora touched her hand to mine.

“My coach,” she said in a gentle tone, “is completely enclosed.”

We stared at her.

“Quite sheltered from the light,” she continued, “comfortable to sleep in for the day and ready to go. Will it do?”

Oliver’s face lighted up with unchecked admiration. “Well-a-day, I should say it’s just the thing. Miss Jones, you are truly a wonder.”

“Thank you, Dr. Marling,” she said with a gracious smile.

The five of us—for Jericho insisted on coming—were ready to leave within half an hour. Along with Nora’s coach and driver, we saddled four extra riding horses, provisions for the road and, of course, the ransom money. Mrs. Howard wanted to come, too, being quite tearful about it, but after a short discussion, I convinced her she would be the best help to us by staying behind. I would not have objected to her presence, but for the fact of Nora’s and my condition. All the rest of the party were in on the secret, so there was no need to guard our speech or actions with them, but with Mrs. Howard in tow, the poor woman would certainly hear or see something she shouldn’t. I had no wish to further influence her into forgetting things.

Nor was it necessary to influence her to stay, for she accepted the inevitable with snuffling grace, and pressed into my hands a little bundle of Richard’s things: extra clothing, some chocolates wrapped in twists of paper and his toy horse. The sight of the last item near brought me to tears, too.

As for Cousin Edmond, we’d not yet said anything to him about the dark business, and didn’t plan to until it was done. He was still weak from his awful experience, and Oliver thought it better for him to learn about it after the fact, lest he lurch from his sickbed and try to interfere. He’d probably burst a blood vessel when he did find out, but we’d deal with it then, having problems enough to occupy us for the present.

We gathered together a goodly number of firearms and a store of powder and lead for the journey. England was as civilized as any country in the world, meaning we had plenty of justification to defend ourselves against the many thieves prowling outside our family circle. Oliver packed his duelers and small sword; Elizabeth and Nora each carried their muff pistols; I had my Dublin revolver and sword stick, and lent my own duelers and small sword to Jericho. Nora’s driver also had weaponry ready to hand. Any highwayman foolish enough to stop us would be in for a most disagreeable surprise.

It occurred to us that Clarinda might have arranged to waylay our party at some point along the road and simply take the money. Against such a chance, I would ride up with the driver to play the lookout, with Jericho taking my place come morning.

The journey was not an easy one for any of us, but I found it particularly difficult to endure. Once the whirl of preparation was done and we set out, I had nothing to occupy my mind except the constant worry for Richard. I was not disposed to pass the time with Nora’s driver. That dour-faced individual sat silent the whole while, speaking only to the horses. He knew his business, though, never stopping or slowing to ask direction and never expressing even a hint of an opinion about our irregular expedition. An excellent man, I thought.

He took the southern road, for all we know following the exact route of the messenger who’d brought the packet to our gates. Even at this time of night London’s streets were a snarl. He kept to the westernmost roads to avoid the bulk of the city and skirted ’round the west and south sides of St. James’s Park. He then made his way through a number of turns before finally coming onto Bridge Street and thus Westminster Bridge. The water crossing was hard, as usual; I found myself pressed into the solid barrier of the coach as it took us forward over the Thames. With a tight grip on the bench, I shut my eyes and concentrated on not vanishing and not being sick as we passed over the wide, stinking swirl.

Then we were free of it and on Bridge Street again, but only briefly, for it soon became the New Road, and we now rumbled through empty farm land. An astonishing change, that, being in a crowded noisy city one minute and in silent countryside the next. The very air was different: no smokes or night soil fumes to assault the senses, but clean and cold and heavy with moisture. It did not feel like rain, and so it proved as the hours passed and the heavens spared us further problems. Not that it was an easy road, being as rutted and muddy as any I’d known on Long island. It took some practice to balance against the irregular swaying as the coach rolled over the ruts, but I got used to it and was better able to keep my attention on the way ahead rather than on my seating.

The miles crawled ever so slowly under us. My impatience was such that more than once I had to fight down the near-irresistible urge to float up and soar ahead. Not that it would have done much good. Clarinda’s note had been clear enough on the time. Even if I got to the town before dawn, nothing would be like to happen until tomorrow night. So I ground my teeth until my jaw ached, and kept my eyes open for highwaymen. None showed themselves; perhaps it was too cold even for them.

I think the others managed to sleep a little, for after a few hours the sound of voices within the coach finally ceased. It must have been lonely for Nora, being unable to escape into slumber for herself, but she made no complaint or comment when we stopped to make our first change of horses at a large inn. Elizabeth, Oliver, and Jericho climbed out to stretch themselves and take refreshment while Nora made special arrangements with the chief hostler for the care of her four matched bays.

“We should be back in a day or two,” she said, pressing enough money on him for a week’s worth of stabling. “See well to their care and you’ll have this much again on our return.” Her promise, reinforced by a piercing look that I recognized, left me in no doubt her animals would be the pets of the stable.

“How are things with you and the others?” I asked her.

“Most agreeable. Oliver’s been even more thorough in his questions about me than you were that night. Quite the inquisitor, your cousin.”

“He’s not annoyed you, I hope?”

“Not at all. I forgot how amusing he can be. There are some questions I’m sure he wants to ask, but his sense of delicacy in Elizabeth’s presence holds him back from too much frankness. He hardly need trouble himself, though, Elizabeth’s well on to him.”

“Then you’re getting on easily with her?”

“Very easily. We won’t be exchanging recipes or lace patterns or that sort of rot, but I think it likely we’ll be friends long after this crisis is past. She’s a dear, sweet girl, brave and clever. I don’t wonder that you love her so much.”

“Yes, after Father, she’s quite the best, most sensible one in the family”

“You do yourself a disservice, dear Jonathan.”

“I think not,” I said, holding up my hand. There was still a trace of dried blood and plaster dust clinging to my skin, evidence of my loss of restraint.

She had only a wry smile. “That’s natural frustration. I don’t know how you’ve held yourself together this long, but hold on just a little longer. We
will
get your boy back.”

Such was her conviction and so strongly did she pass it to me that I almost thought myself under the spell of her influence again. It was enough to bolster me for miles more, until the dawn came creeping over the vast stretch of sky on our left, and we had to stop the coach so I could shelter within.

Nora denied herself no available convenience in its special construction. Each bench opened up like a kind of long chest and might otherwise have been employed for the storage of travel cases. Nora had one of them lightly padded for her use, the pads containing quantities of her earth. Thus might she comfortably rest during the day. The other bench, though not so softly appointed, was cleared of the stores we’d thrown in that I might also have room to recline. It was a bit of a press because I could not really stretch out, but no more so than in my own traveling box. It was of no matter to me; with my head pillowed on a sack full of my own earth, I passed quickly into uncaring insensibility the moment the sun was up.

* * *

The coach was quite still when I woke, though I was sharply aware of sundry noises about me: the voices of men and women, the clop of hooves, the honking of disturbed geese and dogs barking. I cautiously raised the bench seat and peered out, giving a jump when I realized with horror someone was inside the coach. One glimpse of a dark figure crouching between the seats and I ducked, the lid slamming down with a thump, giving away my own presence.

“We’re in Brighthelmstone, sir,” Jericho informed me in a calming, patient tone.

My hair eased back into place on my scalp. I belatedly grasped the notion that he and the menacing figure were one and the same, and the man had only been waiting for me to waken as usual. “ ’Fore God, what a start you gave me.”

“Sorry, sir.”

Lifting the lid again, I staggered to my feet, stepped out, and let it drop back into place.

“What a row you make,” said Nora, sounding rather muffled from her own hiding place.

To give her room, Jericho backed out of the coach. She emerged from her haven, looking less crushed than might be expected, though she fussed about her skirts. “Much more of this and I’ll take to wearing breeches,” she said, swatting at wrinkles. She gave up trying to flatten them and bade us a good evening. Jericho replied in kind; all I wanted to do was kiss her, which I did when the first chance presented itself. That pleasantry accomplished, I had a look through the open door, but could see little enough past Jericho; part of a muddy yard and what looked to be the windowless side of a large brick building made up the totality of our view. The coach’s closed and latched windows hid the rest. Nora sat on her bench and signed for me to take the other. Until we knew better, we dared not show ourselves yet.

“What’s the news?” I asked Jericho. “Are we at the Bell?”

He’d brought a lantern and set it on the floor between us. “We are, sir, and have been for quite some time. We’ve since learned from the innkeeper that a sitting room had been reserved for Dr. Marling and Miss Barrett by a well-dressed gentleman who called himself Mr. Richard.”

I stiffened at the name. Was Clarinda indulging in some tangled attempt at humor or simply tormenting us? Probably both.

“We’ve been resting there, waiting to hear something from Mrs. Fonteyn. Dr. Marling thinks the man might have been Captain Summerhill from your description of him.”

“Perhaps Arthur Tyne is still too feeble for such errands; that or they prefer having Summerhill taking the risks.”

Jericho lifted one hand to indicate his lack of knowledge on that point. “What matters most is for you and Miss Jones to remain unseen in the coach for the moment; the whole of this inn must certainly be under watch.”

“We have a way of leaving without anyone knowing about it,” I reminded him.

He nodded. “True, sir, but it will not be necessary; we’ll be departing shortly. This was left with the innkeeper not a quarter hour ago.” He presented me with a sheet of paper. I held it so Nora could read as well.

“At your earliest convenience, do come and take the view at the Seven Sisters. The way is sure to be dark, so bring lots of lanterns and keep them lighted. Don’t go too near the edge between the fifth and sixth Sister, for the chalk crumbles easily. Be sure to bring your gift.”

On the reverse side of the paper was a map and directions with a small circle to indicate our destination.

“The Seven Sisters?” I asked after a moment’s study. “What’s that, another inn?” The markings and place names meant nothing to me.

“They’re a series of chalk cliffs on this side of Eastbourne,” said Nora. “A long way for us, I fear.”

“At least a dozen miles, according to the landlord, sir,” added Jericho.

“Then what?” I said with no small bitterness. “A note telling us to turn around and go to Land’s End?”

“Dr. Marling expressed a similar sentiment; however, Miss Elizabeth thinks their purpose in bringing us here may be to see how obedient we are to their orders. So far we’ve done nothing to merit reproach.”

“Let us hope they think so, too,” I grumbled.

Another cold night, another cold, jolting ride. Despite my complaining, I thought—rather, I fervently
hoped
—this would be the end of it at last. Surely Clarinda would be as anxious to collect the money as I was to rescue Richard. Besides, she might not want to press us too far lest we finally rebel and seek outside help.