The Duke's Deception (12 page)

‘This will be
the last time, I promise you. I have to see Charles, get him to write a note to
Black Jack and to the Duke then it’s finished. But if the goods remain
undelivered, hidden where they are, we’re at risk from the excise men and the
smugglers.’

‘Let me think
about it, Edward. It’s a lot you are asking of me.’

Sultan greeted
her with such enthusiasm it temporarily diverted her attention from the dilemma
Edward had placed her in. If she didn’t help then both Charles and Edward could
be exposed and transported or worse. The family would be ruined financially and
socially. Charles, as he was would not survive incarceration. Her refusal to
assist might be signing his death warrant.

But if they were
caught, what then? She would be ruined as well, her secret exposed and her life
effectively
over.But
she had far less to lose than
her adopted family. She would do it. She had no choice. Then an answer to their
problem occurred to her.

‘Edward, why
can’t we ask Billy or Tom to accompany you? They would be more use than I and
they are utterly loyal. They would never reveal your secret.’

He was shocked.
‘Good God, Marianne! One cannot ask servants to put their lives at risk, it
won’t do. If you’re not able to help me then I must manage alone. Don’t feel
badly, I fully understand. I shouldn’t have asked you.’ He hung his head in
despair.

‘I will do it,
Edward. Don’t look so wretched. You will need to find me some of your old
clothes, I cannot do as you ask dressed as a girl. Now explain what I have to
do. I wish to fully understand what’s involved.’

He spread his
arms preparing to envelop her in a bear hug but sensing her slight recoil
refrained. ‘Thank you, Marianne, I’ll never forget this. The procedure’s quite
straightforward. We ride to Thorrington Creek, leave the horses there, load the
donkeys, lead them to a point outside Colchester where we unload, collect any
letters from the duke and reverse the procedure. See, simple?’

She was
horrified by his account. ‘But Colchester is almost six miles away, are you
saying I have to walk that distance twice whilst leading a wretched donkey?’

He grinned.
‘It’s not as bad as that. We ride the donkeys back; they will be unburdened on
the return. It’s a lark. You’ll be amazed how swiftly a donkey can trot when
headed for its stable.’

Reluctantly she
found herself grinning back. ‘You’re beginning to convince me I should enjoy
this escapade. I can hardly wait for the experience of riding bare back on a
bolting donkey in the middle of the night.’

They agreed
nothing further could be arranged until Charles was spoken to the next day.
Back in her room Marianne was glad John had not yet returned. If he was home
she wouldn’t even be contemplating helping Edward.

Marianne set out
on her morning ride to Thorrington Creek accompanied by Emily and Edward.
Sultan, ecstatic to be out and about once more showed his exuberance with a
series of fly-kicks and bucks. Laughing, her hat awry she settled him down. ‘Silly
fellow. You shall have your gallop in a moment.’

Thorrington
Creek with the tide in sparkled invitingly in the sunlight. The three
dismounted, and leaving Sam and Billy to hold the horses, they strolled
companionably along the
tussocky
shoreline. Emily was
full of high spirits.

‘To think
dearest Arabella will become a sister to us, Marianne.’ Her pretty face fell.
‘But where will they live? There is not room at Frating Hall and I know Charles
will not wish to reside with his in-laws.’

‘Time enough to consider
that when they are officially betrothed, Emily. I am just happy Arabella has
finally come to her senses and realized how she feels about Charles.’

The sudden
braying of donkeys from behind a hedge caused Edward to step unwarily and he
vanished into the murky tidal creek. Spluttering and coughing he sat up, water
streaming from his face. Emily and Marianne were clutching each other for
support and unable to offer him any assistance. He slopped his way to the edge
and scrambled out to stand, scowling and dripping, in front of the helplessly
giggling girls.

‘I am all wet,’
he announced plaintively, ‘and my boots are full of water.’

Marianne wiped
her streaming eyes. ‘They would be as you have just fallen in the creek.’ Then
she and Emily collapsed in a further fit of giggles.

‘There is no
talking to you two. I’m going home.’ He stomped off his departure accompanied
by interesting squelching noises which sent them into fresh peals of mirth.

Marianne watched
him scramble on to his horse and for a moment thought he would complete his
ignominy by disappearing over the other side. Luckily Billy, fighting to hide
his grin, caught Edward’s boot and hauled d him back into the saddle.

‘Oh dear, we
should not have laughed but it was so funny,’ Emily said. ‘His expression as he
vanished under the water.’ They burst into fresh peals of laughter and it was
some time before they were sufficiently composed to resume their journey.

At Frating Hall
it was all bustle and excitement. News had just arrived from Great Bentley that
Charles had been declared well enough to be moved and was to be transported
home. The housekeeper was busily directing servants to prepare a seldom used
summer parlour into a temporary sickroom. The room which opened on to the
flagstone terrace would allow the invalid to be carried outside to enjoy the
fresh air. Marianne and Emily were happy to offer their assistance to ensure
the preparations were completed in time.

Later as she hid
in the library she recalled Edward’s plan to speak to his brother. He would be
able to do this now which meant that her adventure might take place that very
night. As Jane was convinced her husband would return the next day Marianne was
relieved her excursion into free trading would be completed before John could
return and put a stop to it.

Chapter
Twelve

The arrival of
Charles and Lady Grierson in the carriage and Lord Grierson on horseback meant
Edward had to come out of the dismals and, freshly changed, come down and greet
his brother.

‘How are you
Charles? You don’t look too bad for a man who almost kicked the bucket.’

Charles, his
face noticeably thinner and a clean white bandage covering his
head,
appeared remarkably cheerful. ‘I would do it all again
even to losing my poor old Bess, if it meant I would finally have my darling
Arabella.’

‘I do believe
you mean it! To prefer a lady to a horse? I hope I never get so weak in the
noggin.’

‘That’s quite
enough from you two,’ Lady Grierson said firmly. ‘Charles is far too weak for
such badinage.’

Four young men
carried the injured party into his new quarters and Mary, Lady Grierson’s
dresser, was left to settle him in. Dr Jones called and declared himself
satisfied with his patient’s progress although naturally his opinion was not
treated with quite as much respect as formerly.

Lady Grierson
called Emily and Marianne to the small withdrawing room later that afternoon.
‘My dears, come and sit down there is so much we have to discuss.’ She waited
until they were comfortable before continuing. ‘Papa begs your forgiveness but
he has decided to postpone all thought of a
soiree
for the present. It will be several weeks before Charles is able to walk
about and until then we shall not entertain at all.’ She smiled kindly at
Marianne. ‘Of course, dear Sir Theodore is like one of the family, he is
welcome at Frating Hall at any time.’

‘Thank you,
Mama,
I’m sure he will appreciate having the freedom of the
house. Did you find him much changed whilst you were staying at Bentley Hall?’

‘Changed, my
love? Whatever do you mean?’

‘More
-
 
more
of a
Corinthian - less of a dandy.’

‘I see, yes, he
certainly showed more interest in what was going on around him than before. He
is a good-hearted sort of young man but I fear he will revert to type as soon
as he’s on his own again. He’s naturally indolent you know.’ Lady Grierson’s
brow wrinkled. ‘I do hope you are not unwell, my love, that is a nasty cough
you have.’

Marianne
regained her composure and replaced her handkerchief in her reticule. ‘It was
something in my throat, a speck of dust, nothing else.’

Emily sighed
noisily. ‘It’s such a shame we will not have the opportunity to wear our new
evening gowns.’ She rallied as she recalled Arabella’s promise. ‘But at least
we have a summer ball to look forward to at Bromley Hall.’

‘I’m hoping it
will be to celebrate rather more than Arabella’s name day,’ Lady Grierson said
archly. ‘Whatever Lady
Hawksmith’s
objections I’m
certain true love will prevail in the end.’

‘But, Mama, Charles
cannot marry Arabella because he has nowhere to live and no money to support
her.’

‘That’s a mere
bagatelle, Emily my love. Your papa and Lord Hawksmith will come to some
arrangement.’

Marianne smiled
wryly, guessing that it might be the interest from her funds that would be part
of the bargain.

‘Papa and I will
be dining at Bromley Hall tonight, a note arrived earlier inviting us. I am
sure it’s to discuss dear Charles and Arabella.’

‘Then shall we
dine upstairs, Emily? We can ask Edward to join us.’

From the library
Marianne heard the carriage depart an hour or so later. It must be time for her
to go as supper was being served in Emily’s sitting-room at five o’clock. She
was returning her book to the shelf when the door opened and Edward peered round.

‘May I come in,
Marianne? I promise I’ve quite recovered from my twitty mood.’

She smiled.
‘Yes, do, but I was just leaving; supper will be arriving upstairs at any
moment.’

‘I know. I
needed to speak to you first. I’ve seen Charles,’ he tapped his waistcoat
pocket. ‘I have the letter to leave for Black Jack. It’s overcast tonight so if
you’re willing - we will go.’

‘The sooner the
better. I wish to get it over with. I’ll not be happy until you’ve severed this
unsavoury connection.’

‘Excellent. We
have to leave before the parents return. Can you be ready as soon as it’s full
dark?’

‘I can, if you
remember to send me something suitable to wear. A cap will be necessary as well
for I don’t wish to be recognized if we’re seen.’

‘What about your
maid? I can hardly pass the boys clothes to her.’

‘Sort them out
and bring them straight to my parlour. I’ll give Jane the evening off. John’s
due to return tomorrow so she will wish to prepare for his homecoming.’

Later that night
Marianne dressed in her borrowed clothes and crept like a thief through the
house to exit via a little used sided door.

Edward was
waiting under the overhanging trees with Sultan and his own mount. She almost
missed him in the darkness.

‘You look
splendid, Marianne, just like my younger brother. Do you need a leg up?’

‘No, dressed
like this I can manage easily.’

They rode
silently down the dark paths avoiding the more frequented highways and byways.
They took the smugglers tracks that night. Edward knew the shortest route and
they were soon at Thorrington Creek.

‘You unsaddle
the horses and turn them out in the paddock whilst I catch the donkeys,’ Edward
whispered, his voice sounding over loud in the darkness.

‘Do you need
assistance loading them?’

‘The goods are
not here. Good God! The excise men search down here regularly. The donkeys
belong to the mill owner; it’s his paddock. He doesn’t object to us borrowing
them once a month in return for a keg of cognac. But the customs are always
suspicious of donkeys kept so close to the water.’

At his casual
mention of customs men her bravura evaporated. This was not a jolly escapade at
all but a real-life nightmare fraught with unseen dangers and unbearable risks.

‘Marianne, hurry
up, we don’t have time to delay.’ She had to continue - far too late to back
out. The horses wandered off quite happy to graze in the paddock together. She
heard the soft pad of unshod hooves and Edward arrived beside her leading two
large, friendly donkeys. He handed the reins of the smaller one to her.

‘This is Bobbin.
Jump up quickly, we have to get to the hideaway.’

Riding astride a
donkey with her legs dangling, a blanket the only saddle, was a strange
experience. She urged her mount alongside his in order to whisper a question.

‘How far is it
before we load them?’

‘Not far— now
quiet we must talk no more than necessary.’

Bobbin walked
along in the rear unbothered by the darkness. Marianne found his gait odd after
the long stride of her gelding but adjusted rapidly and was beginning to enjoy
the ride when Edward reined in and dismounted.

He vanished into
the hedge pulling, Thread, his mount, behind him. Marianne did the same,
finding herself outside a ramshackle hut well-disguised by a wickerwork of
brushwood. Obviously the contraband was inside. Without a lantern it was hard
to load the animals but Edward, an expert at such tasks, did most of the work.
Thirty minutes later the donkeys were laden, the shed once more invisible under
its blanket of branches, and they were ready to leave.

‘Follow me,
don’t speak. If you hear anyone coming put your hand over Bobbin’s muzzle. He
knows that means to be silent. It’s a long walk and the part that carries the
most risk as we are actually in possession of illegal goods.’

Their progress
was slow and Marianne jumped at every snapping twig and hooting owl. They were
following a well-trodden but secret path. Eventually at around
midnight
Edward waved her to a halt.
Her eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could see quite well.

‘We’re here, see
the dark shape - it’s a disused mill. We unload the donkeys in there.’

‘Will there be
anyone there to meet us? I don’t wish to be seen even by a smuggler.’

‘No, I leave the
stuff and collect any letters and the money from a hidey-hole in the wall.’

Her heart was
pounding. Marianne led Bobbin across the open space expecting at any moment a
gun would fire and excise men would erupt from the circle of trees and arrest
them.

Fortunately the
area was empty, the mill house too. Unloading was quicker work and soon the
oil-skin wrapped goods, silks and small barrels of best cognac had been dropped
into a ready-made hole in the floor.

Edward replaced
the floorboards and the pile of old sacks and told Marianne to take the donkeys
outside. ‘I just have to put in the letters for the duke, collect my money and
any correspondence to be sent to France and then we’re done here.’

Both donkeys
seemed to sense their part was almost over and she had no difficulty leading
them outside. A sudden flurry of wings in the trees sent her pulse racing. Were
they discovered? In her panic she forgot to whisper.

‘Edward, there’s
someone coming, something has disturbed the pigeons.’

He appeared his
finger to his lips in warning. He cocked his head, listening. A faint
fluttering was still audible. The birds were restless. ‘We must hurry,’ he
hissed, ‘it could be a revenue man. Make sure you hang on tight. Grab the rope
round his neck as we’ll be travelling back fast.’ He spoke from close beside
her.

He swung his leg
over Thread’s shaggy grey back and Marianne barely had time to scramble onto
Bobbin before both donkeys broke into a rapid, bumpy trot heading across the
clearing and into the welcome invisibility of the woods. The trees whipped past
her face catching her painfully on the cheek several times. She had to draw up
her knees and crouch over the animal’s neck in order to avoid further injury.

Once she became
accustomed to the lumpy stride she began to enjoy herself. Rushing down tiny
tracks at the dead of night wearing boy’s clothes was actually an exhilarating
experience.

Then Bobbin
swerved violently to avoid a rabbit hole and she felt herself slipping.
Desperately she gripped harder and concentrated on staying aboard. Her mouth
was dry and her heart threatened to jump out of her mouth. If she fell how
would Edward know? He was so far ahead he wouldn’t hear her cries for help. She
would be alone in the dark with no idea how to get home.

The journey
turned from excitement to horror. She clung on praying desperately she would
reach Thorrington Creek without further mishap. This was the longest ride of
her life. The donkeys kept up their rapid trot, the route so well known to them
they needed no moon to light their way.

When she thought
she could bear no more and that she would surely fall, Bobbin’s pace slackened.
Thank God, the nightmare was almost over! When the beast dropped to a rapid
walk she rolled sideways onto the grass her stomach roiling. She remained
prone, her face pressed into the damp grass thanking her maker that she was
once more on
terra firma
. The donkey
vanished into the darkness but she could hear him greeting his stable mate.

Glad she didn’t
have to walk far she turned and pushed herself up. She became aware of the
night sounds. There was the screech of a small owl, the rustle of a creature in
the undergrowth, the sharp bark of a fox and the gentle slap of the water
against the muddy shoreline.

She regained her
feet and set off to find Edward. The narrow path tucked in beside a thick hedge
led directly to the field.

He was waiting
for her. ‘That was an exciting ride. Did you enjoy it?’

She laughed.
‘No, I did not! I was terrified. If I’d fallen you would never have found me. I

thought donkeys were sedentary
animals. Why do they rush back in that extraordinary way?’

‘Come into the
shed and I’ll show you.’

She did as he
asked, ducking through the small doorway. Edward kindled a lantern. She stared
round with interest. Apart from the tack they had removed earlier from their
mounts there were several stout wooden boxes. He opened the lids with a flourish.

‘Oats - donkeys
love them. There are also apples, carrots, potatoes - whatever I can find in
the outhouse at home. Charles discovered they would hurry back if they knew a
delicious feast awaited them.’

Marianne could
hear them stamping and snuffling impatiently in the paddock outside eagerly
anticipating the treat to come. Once the donkeys were contentedly munching she
collected Sultan and saddled up.

‘What took you
so long inside the old mill, Edward, I was becoming worried?’

‘I have to sweep
the floor and scatter soil and dust before leaving. If anyone looked in the
hoof prints would be a certain giveaway.’

‘Of course, I
should have thought of that.’

Back on Sultan
Marianne finally relaxed; the danger was over and she could enjoy riding on a
warm summer’s night with a good friend to keep her company. ‘Listen, can you
hear the nightingales?’

They paused for
a moment to enjoy the trills and soaring notes. Then chattering quietly they
resumed their journey. They were about a mile from Frating Hall when Sultan
threw up his head and whickered loudly.

Edward’s breath
hissed between his teeth. ‘Customs men. It’s too late to hide; we’ll have to

brazen it out. Keep moving, it’ll
look suspicious otherwise. We’re two young men back from the inn. You stay
behind me and make sure no-one sees your face.’

Marianne’s
delight in the evening vanished. She sat down into the saddle and pulling her
cap more firmly over her eyes. They heard voices and jangling bits and a group
of five or six heavily armed men appeared in the lane in front of them.