Page 13 of Escape of the Highwayman (Escape #3)

R obert Berry had arrived at Greater Lessing in the dark, too tired after his long day’s ride to think of more than a bed for the night. This was easily acquired at the inn in the town’s main square, and he was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

The following morning, over breakfast, which he enjoyed in the inn’s common room, he broached the subject of his brother obliquely.

“I hear you had some trouble here last market day,” he said to the maidservant who brought his coffee.

“Oh, weren’t no trouble to us, sir. He was as polite as you please to us! Knows a good ale when he tastes one, I reckon!”

“Excellent coffee, too,” Robert said, after taking a sip. “Then he made no effort to rob anyone here?”

“’Course not! If you ask me, that Bow Street man got it wrong, just because the gentleman rode a dappled horse.”

“But he ran away, didn’t he?”

The maid grinned. “He did that, sir, jumped right over the silk stall and galloped off with everyone else chasing him on foot. Till they gave up and panted back here for their own horses. Never caught him, I hear.”

She did not sound displeased either.

“But if he was not guilty,” Robert said, “and he was truly a gentleman, why did he feel the need to escape?”

This did not seem to trouble the maid either. She leaned just a little closer. “Nothing to say he was escaping. It’s my belief he was showing off to Miss Chloe.”

“Miss Chloe?” Robert repeated, his heart sinking. Oh, Jon what the devil are you doing?

“His lordship’s daughter,” the maid said, as though he should have gathered that immediately.

“Er...which lordship would that be?”

“Lord Lessing, of course. Miss Chloe’s a lovely lady, comes in here often, usually with a gaggle of children and dogs that she buys cakes for, like she did that day, too. Though that was after.”

“After the highwayman had galloped off? What makes you think he was showing off to the lady?”

“Well, he went to stand up for her when she let the birds out of Bert Savage’s cage.

Quite right she was, too, for he don’t treat them right nor keep that cage clean neither.

She’s got a soft heart Miss Chloe, bless her, and she bought the birds, only the stranger had to step in and pay the rest because she hadn’t enough.

Savage will have over-charged her, mind.

Anyway, the gentleman had certainly noticed her, and after that, she had to have noticed him !

Everyone did. So funny, it was. I’ll just go and see if your breakfast’s ready, sir. ..”

When she came back, he asked casually if the Bow Street runner was still in Greater Lessing.

“Went up to see the squire, I believe. That’s Mr. Dunwoody. He’s the magistrate.”

“I see. And where would I find Lord Lessing?”

“Up at Lessing Place, of course!”

Robert felt it would be diplomatic to call first upon Mr. Dunwoody, so after breakfast, he asked for directions, and for his horse to be saddled, and set off to Ellscombe House.

He found the magistrate looking harassed and waving his wife and daughter off on an expedition of pleasure, escorted by three gentlemen and a groom. He turned to greet Robert with something very like relief.

“How might I assist you, sir?”

“My name is Berry, sir.”

Dunwoody peered at him.

“Robert Berry,” he added hastily. “I have heard some disturbing rumours about someone with my brother’s name, which has distressed my father considerably.”

“You had better come inside,” Dunwoody said.

He led Robert into the house, where a footman took his hat, and from there to a comfortable study at the back of the house.

“I am sorry about all this,” Dunwoody said, sitting down.

“I’ve been in correspondence with Sir John Grandison over the identity of this highwayman-burglar fellow, and we both feel it must be a hum.

There have been incidences of young fellows the worse for drink holding up stagecoaches for wagers, but I never yet heard of a gentleman—let alone an officer—who took to the High Toby as a career!

The young man who made the accusation has retreated to his estates with no further interest in the matter, and Sir John believes he was merely lashing out because it was his wife who was hurt by these villains. ”

“It is certainly not the behaviour I associate with my brother,” Robert said earnestly. “And as for his Cossack tricks, he has lost half of his leg!”

“That seems to be what’s troubling our persistent runner. Fellow has a bee in his bonnet simply because your brother is lame and so is the man associated with the abduction of Lady—well, of the lady concerned.”

Robert’s see-saw of emotions had begun to calm at these words, but Dunwoody still looked uncomfortable. At last the magistrate said, “I’m afraid he is headed to Worcestershire to speak to the Berry family. It seems he will miss you.”

“I expect my father will give him short shrift,” Robert said with a sigh. “Only the reason I came down to investigate the matter, is that we don’t want my mother worried by these rumours. I suppose I might catch up with this runner and head him off...”

“You might,” Dunwoody agreed. “He seems to be clutching at straws, for there have been no hold-ups anywhere around here, and nor have we discovered any bodies.”

“Bodies!” Robert stared at him.

“Ah.” Dunwoody shifted position in his chair. “I’m afraid one of my constables claims he shot this fellow, but since it didn’t seem to slow our fugitive down any, I suspect he overstated the case. Shot at him, no more.”

Robert thrust this new worry to the back of his mind. “Forgive me, but had this particular lame man been in the area for some time? Had you ever met him?”

“No, never. He was not even staying at the Lessing Arms, merely stopped to refresh himself and his horse, according to the innkeeper, then went on his way. My fools and the Bow Street fellow might well have scared him into flight, of course, but I don’t believe he meant to stay.”

“Then he has nothing to do with Lord Lessing or his family?”

“Good God, no. Are you thinking of that business of Chloe’s birds?”

“The maid at the Lessing Arms seemed to think this man was showing off for Miss Chloe’s benefit.”

“Well, pretty girl, is Chloe.” For some reason, this did not seem to please Dunwoody, and he scowled.

“Then she was not acquainted with him before the incident at the market?”

“Of course not!” It seemed Dunwoody could not help being shocked by the suggestion.

And yet, according to the maidservant at the inn, Chloe was in the habit of calling in there unchaperoned except for a gaggle of town children and dogs. Did her family really know what she was about? Could she know Jon better than she was admitting? Could she speak for him? Or against him?

“I think I must just call on his lordship and ask if I might speak to Miss Chloe. Perhaps you could direct me?”

“Well, I could, but Chloe isn’t there right now.

She’s off on this expedition with my wife and daughter and the vicar’s sons.

I doubt they’ll be back before tea. Dance, the Bow Street man, spoke to Chloe already, you know, in my presence.

It really was one chance encounter. She did not even know his name. ”

Robert was torn. Should he wait and speak to Chloe on the chance that she really might know something about Jon? At the very least he might discover whether this lame fugitive really was Jon, or someone else entirely.

Or should he hare off after the runner and try to divert him from the family home?

Dunwoody seemed to take pity on him. “Tell you what, chances are they will all come back for tea here, and you’ll be able to see Chloe then.”

Robert was shocked. “Without her father present?”

“Well, I shall be present,” Dunwoody said. “And so will her sisters, so you are hardly being underhand. There are few secrets in these parts. Don’t suppose you’re in the market for a hunter, are you? I’ve got a lovely fellow I have to sell—can’t justify keeping two, you know.”

“I’m always happy to look at horseflesh,” Robert said, giving in.

“Excellent. You can even try him out for a quick canter. And by then it’s bound to be luncheon. I’d be very glad of your company.”

There was a certain amount of guilt in wasting half a day in doing nothing, but after travelling for several days in a row, he was rather glad of the respite. It also gave him time to think about what, if anything, he had learned that was pertinent to Jon.

Dunwoody’s hunter was indeed a fine horse, and Robert was soon seriously considering purchasing him.

A very decent luncheon with some excellent claret followed, after which, despite their difference in age, they seemed to be so comfortable in each other’s company that they dozed in the sunshine of Dunwoody’s rose garden.

They had only just woken up—both pretending they had been wide awake the whole time—when the expedition returned. And Robert found himself face to face with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

His tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth. He did not seem to be capable of the slightest movement, of looking anywhere except at her.

No wonder my brother fell for you , he thought desperately . And you really could be his salvation. What in the world am I to do?

“My dears, allow me to present Mr. Robert Berry,” Dunwoody said jovially, when this vision had dismounted. “Berry, my wife, my daughter Laura, and our guest, Mr. Black.”

Laura . Not Chloe. Laura. He should not have been relieved, and yet he was. Especially when she smiled at him.

***

D URING THE EXPEDITION to the favoured beauty spot on the river, Chloe was more troubled by Laura’s distance than by Mr. Black’s presence.

She was almost resigned to marrying the latter for the sake of family duty, but she did not wish to fall out with her friends over it.

After a couple of efforts to engage Laura, Beatrice murmured, “Leave her. She will come around.”

“But if her heart is engaged, and Papa is so determined...”