Rendezvous by Amanda Quick
“A long stroll,” Augusta said, remembering the cottage where she had taken shelter during a storm. Graystone had been annoyed at having to come after her that day. She remembered that very well. She also recalled that he had told her the place was the only vacant cottage on the estate.
“Too long. That’s what I told him. We walked for nearly two hours to get to the place. Then all he did was have a look around. Said he’d seen enough and that we should start back. My feet was hurtin’ somethin’ terrible by the time we returned.”
“Is this cottage isolated?” Claudia asked. “Would it make a likely hiding place?”
“Yes, it would, for a short time. It is definitely worth checking.” Augusta came to a decision. “Everyone else has already left to begin the search, including those two armed men Graystone sent down here to Dorset with us. I shall get dressed and ride over to the Dodwell cottage myself.”
Claudia started for the door. “I shall come with you. It will not take me long to dress.”
“I had best see if Steeples can secure us a pistol,” Augusta said.
“Will you know how to use it if it becomes necessary?” Claudia asked in surprise.
“Of course. Richard taught me.”
Half an hour later, with dawn just breaking, Augusta and Claudia brought their horses to a halt in the woods behind the Dodwell cottage. They saw a horse tethered in the old shed.
“Dear God,” Claudia said softly. “I believe he really is here with Meredith. We must go back and get help.”
“We may not have time to return for assistance.” Augusta dismounted and handed the reins to her cousin. “And we do not know for certain that Robbie brought Meredith here. It could be a vagrant or some traveler who got caught by nightfall and found this cottage. I am going to see if I can get a look at who is inside.”
“Augusta, I am not at all certain we should attempt this on our own.”
“Do not fret. I have the pistol. Wait here. If something goes wrong, make for the nearest cottage. Anyone in the district will come to the aid of Graystone’s family.”
Augusta removed the pistol from the pocket of her riding habit and held it tightly as she went forward through the trees.
It was easy enough to make her way to the back of the cottage without calling attention to herself. There were no windows in the back wall of the crumbling structure and the old shed provided additional cover.
The horse tethered in the shed looked at Augusta without much interest as she started to slip past. Augusta eyed the animal thoughtfully and then went into the shed and untied the old mare.
The swaybacked old horse clomped obediently along when Augusta took hold of the halter and started around the side of the cottage. Near the front of the cottage Augusta paused and smacked the mare soundly on the rump.
Startled, the horse moved into a brisk trot that took it straight past the front door and down the lane.
A bellow of alarm sounded from inside the cottage. Augusta heard the door slam open and a young man still wearing Graystone’s livery charged out.
“What in bloody hell? Come back here, you damned nag.” Robbie whistled frantically at the disappearing horse.
Augusta raised the pistol and hugged the shelter of the side wall.
“Damn and blast. Goddamned nag. Damn it to bloody hell.” Robbie was clearly torn about what to do next. He evidently decided he could not afford to lose the horse.
Augusta heard the front door being closed and then came the sound of Robbie’s footsteps as he ran, cursing mightily, after the old mare.
Augusta waited until Robbie was out of sight and then she rushed to the front door of the cottage and pushed it open. Holding the pistol firmly in front of her, she stepped into the small room.
Meredith, gagged, bound, and lying helpless on the floor, stared toward the door with frightened eyes. And then she recognized Augusta. There was a muffled exclamation from behind the gag.
“’Tis all right, Meredith. I am here, darling. You are safe now.” Augusta ran across the room and yanked off the gag. Then she set to work on the ropes that bound the girl’s wrists.
Meredith threw her arms tightly around Augusta’s neck as soon as she was free. “Mama. I knew you would come, Mama. I knew it. I was so scared of him.”
“I know, darling. But now we must hurry.”
Augusta took her hand and hauled her out of the cottage and around the corner of the house.
Claudia saw what was happening at once and started forward, leading Augusta’s horse. “Hurry,” she called. “We must get out of here at once. I hear a horse coming toward us in the lane. Robbie must have caught the mare.”
Augusta listened to the strong, rhythmic hoofbeats of a swiftly cantering horse and knew it was not the old farm horse she had just set free. This was blooded stock, the kind of animal only a gentleman would ride. There was no way to know if whoever was on his way toward them would be friend or foe.
Augusta was filled with a desperate need to get Meredith out of the way.
“Here, darling. Get up in front of Miss Ballinger. Hurry.” She pushed Meredith up into the saddle and Claudia caught hold of her. Augusta stepped back quickly. “Be off, Claudia. Now.”
“Augusta, what are you doing?”
“You must see to Meredith. I must be free to use the pistol if it becomes necessary. We have no way of knowing who is coming up the lane. Go, Claudia. I shall be right behind you.”
Claudia wheeled her horse about, her eyes filled with worry. “Very well, but do not delay.” She sent her horse flying off through the trees.
“Be careful, Mama,” Meredith called softly.
Augusta mounted her own mare and prepared to follow. She could still not see whoever was approaching. He was hidden by the bulk of the cottage.
Augusta leaned forward, pistol still firmly clutched in one hand, and urged her mare into a gallop.
At that instant a shot crashed through the woods, sending up a cloud of leaves and dirt beneath the mare’s hooves.
The animal reared in panic, thrashing wildly at the air with its hooves. Augusta dropped the pistol in a desperate effort to steady the creature. But one rear hoof skidded on dead leaves and the beast started to twist to one side.
Augusta leaped off the sidesaddle just as the horse stumbled and fell. She landed in a heap on the ground, winded, unarmed, and trapped by the skirts of her habit. The mare scrambled to her feet and fled through the trees, heading for home.
By the time she had caught her breath a man with heavy whiskers and hair that had been powdered to the color of steel was standing over her. He had a pistol pointed straight at her heart.
Augusta knew at once that the whiskers and gray hair were a disguise. She would have recognized Lovejoy’s fox-green eyes anywhere.
“You got here a bit early, my dear,” Lovejoy grunted. He motioned her to her feet. “I did not think you would miss Graystone’s offspring so quickly, nor rouse your staff and start the search so soon. But I see the stupid little maid said exactly what she was supposed to say. That dolt Robbie was sure she would. And I was certain you would make the obvious assumptions.”
“You wanted me, Lovejoy? Not Meredith?”
“I wanted both of you,” Lovejoy snapped. “But you have deprived me of Meredith, so I shall just have to make do with you. Let us hope Graystone is as fond of his new wife as he should be; otherwise you will be quite useless to me. And I don’t have any patience with things that are useless to me. Your brother learned that soon enough.”
“Richard. You killed him. Just like you killed Sally.” Augusta leaped at him, her hands bunched into small fists.
Lovejoy slammed her aside with a powerful backhanded slap that sent Augusta sprawling once more in the dirt. “Get up, you little bitch. We must move quickly now. I do not know how long Graystone will bumble around London before he realizes who I am and that I have left the city.”
“He will kill you, Lovejoy. You know that, do you not? He will kill
“He has wanted to kill me for a long time and as you can see, he has failed thus far. Graystone has always been clever, I’ll give him that, but I have always had luck on my side.”
“Until recently, perhaps. Your luck has run out, Lovejoy.”
“Not at all. You are my good luck charm, madam. And I think you will be a very amusing one indeed. It will be a pleasure to take what belongs to that damned Graystone. I did try to warn him that you were not good wife material.”
Lovejoy reached down and grabbed Augustas arm. He hauled her to her feet.
Heedless of the pistol, Augusta whirled, scooped up her heavy skirts, and tried to flee. Lovejoy caught her in two strides and slapped her viciously. His arm circled her throat and the nose of the pistol rested against her temple.
“One more such attempt to run and I will put a bullet through your brain here and now. Do you understand?”
Augusta did not bother to answer. Her head was reeling from the violent blow. She sensed she must bide her time now.
Holding her cautiously, Lovejoy started toward the stallion that he had left in front of the cottage.
“What do you mean, you tried to warn Graystone that I would not make him a good wife?” Augusta demanded as he forced her to mount the prancing stallion.
“I really did not want the two of you getting together, Augusta. I was afraid that living in close proximity to you, Graystone might just possibly stumble across some clue from your brother’s past the would lead him to me. It was not very likely, but it was always a worrisome possibility. I tried to avoid any such potential problem by heading off the marriage.”
“That was what you were about when you lured me into that game of cards.”
“Precisely.” Lovejoy got up behind her, the mouth of the pistol pressed firmly into her ribs. “The idea was to compromise you when you came for your vowels, but that did not work. And the next thing I knew, the son of a bitch had married you out of hand.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Not far.” He picked up the reins and spurred the stallion forward. “We are going to take a pleasant sea voyage, you and I. And then we shall seclude ourselves in a remote location in France while frustration and rage eat Graystone alive.”
“I do not understand. Why do you need me?”
“You are my bargaining piece, my dear. With you as hostage, I shall get safely across the Channel and into seclusion in France. Graystone will pay dearly for you. His sense of honor, if not his affection, will see to that. And when he eventually is permitted to purchase your freedom, I shall lure him into a trap and kill him.”
“And then what?” Augusta challenged. “Everyone will know who you are at last. My husband has friends.”
“So he does. But as far as your husband’s friends are concerned, I shall also be dead. Killed by a valiant Graystone who died in the attempt to free his poor wife. Who was also unfortunately killed. Very tragic. ’Twill be something of a nuisance to assume a new identity afterward, but I have done it before.”
Augusta closed her eyes as the stallion pounded down the lane. “Why did you kill Richard?”
“Your foolish brother tried to play a dangerous game, Augusta. One he did not even begin to comprehend. He joined the Saber Club because it was just the dashing sort of club that appealed to men like him. Then he somehow stumbled onto the fact that a master spy called the Spider was also a member. He reasoned I was doubtless using the place to collect valuable information. Those dashing young officers talked very freely when they were in their cups. A pretty girl, a few bottles of wine, and whatever information the members of the club had was mine for the asking.”
“They talked freely because they thought you were one of them.”
“Indeed. It worked very well until your brother somehow figured out what was going on. Although I did not think he knew which of the members was the Spider, I decided not to take any chances. I knew that he planned to seek out the authorities and turn his information over to them. I followed him home one night.”
“And shot him in the back before you planted incriminating documents on his person.”
“It was easier that way. I burned the Saber down and made certain that all the club’s records and membership rolls were consumed in the blaze. The place was soon forgotten. Now, then, enough of such pleasant reminiscences. We have a journey ahead of us.”
Lovejoy brought the stallion to a halt near a small bridge. He dismounted and jerked Augusta off the horse. She stumbled as she found her footing and when she pushed the hair back out of her eyes she saw the sleek, closed carriage hidden in the trees. It was horsed with two powerful-looking bays that were secured to a tree.
“You must forgive me for what will no doubt be a most uncomfortable journey, madam.” Lovejoy deftly bound Augusta’s hands and gagged her with a twisted cravat. “But rest assured there is worse to come. The Channel can be very rough.”
He tossed her into the small carriage, pulled down the curtains on the windows, and slammed the door shut. A moment later Augusta heard him climb onto the box and pick up the reins.
The horses set off at a furious pace. Lost in the darkness of the carriage, Augusta had no way of knowing which direction they were headed. Lovejoy had said something about a sea voyage.
The nearest harbor was Weymouth. Surely he would not be so bold as to try to get her aboard a vessel in such a public place, Augusta thought.
Then she reminded herself that, whatever else could be said of him, no one would deny that the Spider was as bold as he was vicious.
She could only bide her time and wait for an opportunity to escape or draw attention to herself. In the meantime, she must fight the despair that threatened to seize her. At least Meredith was safe. But the thought of never seeing Harry again was too much to bear.
• • •
The smell of the sea, the clatter of wagon traffic, and the creak of timber roused Augusta a long time later. She listened carefully, trying to pinpoint their location. It was unmistakably a harbor, and that meant Lovejoy had indeed driven to Weymouth.
Augusta straightened uncomfortably in the seat, wincing as the bindings cut into her wrists. She had managed to loosen the gag without Lovejoy taking notice by catching the twisted cravat on a brass fitting near the door and tugging against it.
The carriage came to a halt. Augusta heard voices and then the door was opened. Lovejoy, still in disguise, leaned inside. He was holding a large cloak and a black, heavily veiled bonnet.
“A moment, my good man,” he said to someone over his shoulder. “I must see to my poor wife. She is not feeling at all well.”
Augusta tried to evade the bonnet, but Lovejoy gave her a glimpse of the knife in his hand and she went still as she realized he would have no compunction about slipping it between her ribs.
In a remarkably short time, veiled and securely wrapped in the hooded cloak, Augusta was lifted out of the carriage. Lovejoy must have appeared very much the solicitous husband as he carried her along the stone quay to where a small ship was tied. No one could see the knife concealed in his hand because of the folds of the cloak.
Augusta peered through the thick black veil, watching for whatever opportunity might present itself.
“I’ll fetch yer luggage for ye, sir,” a familiar, rasping voice volunteered from close at hand.
“My luggage should already be on board,” Lovejoy snapped. He stepped onto the gangplank. “Tell your scoundrel of a captain that I wish to sail immediately. We have the tide.”
“Aye, sir,” said the rasping voice. “’E’s just been waitin’ fer ye, ’e ’as. I’ll tell ’im yer ’ere.”
“Be quick about it. I have paid him a great deal of money for his services and I expect satisfaction.”
“Aye, sir. But first I’ll point out yer cabin. Yer lady wife looks like she’ll be wantin’ to take to ’er bunk directly, eh?”
“Yes, yes, point out the cabin. Then notify the captain t
“It’s in the way, ain’t it? Cap’n don’t like that. ’E runs a nice tight ship, ’e does. ’E’ll have me arse for that. I’d best get the blasted thing outta the way.”
“What the bloody hell?” Lovejoy staggered, trying to catch his balance as the line looped around his boot like a snake. His grip on Augusta slipped.
Augusta saw her chance. She screamed and threw herself forward out of Lovejoy’s arms as he fought to keep his feet.
Augusta heard a bellow of rage from her captor as he lost his grip on her. Through the veil she saw the grizzled seaman with the rasping voice reach out to catch her, but he fell back under the impact, enveloped by her cloak.
“Damnation,” Peter Sheldrake muttered as he and Augusta both toppled over the edge of the gangplank and plummeted into the cold water of the harbor.
Harry saw his friend go over the edge with Augusta and realized that his wife was safe. Peter would take care of her.
Harry had his own hands full with an enraged Lovejoy, who was already back on his feet, a knife in his fist.
“Goddamn you,” Lovejoy hissed. “You were well named, Nemesis, but the Spider always drinks his victim’s blood in the end.”
“There will be no more blood for you, Spider.”
Lovejoy hurtled forward, his arm extended for a gut-slashing thrust. Harry sidestepped the attack and managed to catch hold of Lovejoy’s arm as he tried to shift direction at the last instant.
Both men were thrown off balance. Lovejoy went down and Harry went with him, still clutching the arm that held the knife. They landed heavily and rolled nearly to the edge of the gangplank.
“You went too far this time, Spider.” Still grappling with Lovejoy’s knife arm, Harry tried to force back his assailant’s hand. The point of the blade hovered just over Harry’s eye. “But then, that was always your problem, was it not? You always took things one step too far. Too many deaths, too much blood, too clever for your own good. That was why you lost in the end.”