Page 2 of Escape of the Highwayman (Escape #3)

Jaws dropped around the square. A few started half-heartedly toward him, and yet another large man stood at the next street opening.

Jon cantered past it around the corner of the square and was rewarded by the sight of the lovely bird lady with shining eyes, surrounded by the children and the dog, all staring at him in excited disbelief.

He couldn’t help grinning, even though he knew he was showing off. He pressed with his knees and Cavalo surged ahead and took off over a low stall of colourful reels of silk thread. They landed squarely in the road beyond and galloped off at break-neck speed.

***

C HLOE BARCLAY, WATCHED the escape of her champion on horseback, hotly pursued by constables of the law, no doubt with her mouth hanging open. It was glorious, ridiculous, and wildly exciting all at once. Laughter bubbled up in her throat and she knew an insane desire to cheer.

Deliberately, she pressed her lips together to prevent either indiscretion and forced herself to turn away from the sight. It didn’t stop the tingling in her fingertips or the swell of her heart, as though she had suddenly come alive after a long, dull sleep.

“Goodness!” Mercy exclaimed.

“A real highwayman !” breathed George in awe.

“We don’t know that,” Chloe reminded him. “Because someone said it does not make it true. Now, since you were so clever about the birds, we shall have some cake at the inn, and then you must go home before your mothers start to worry.”

The children, who had attached themselves to her ever since one of her visits to the local school more than a year ago, were now perfectly comfortable in her company, as was Shaggy the dog.

So neither they nor Mrs. Muggins, the innkeeper’s wife, were overawed by the treat of cake and lemonade at the inn.

“Bless my soul, such excitement!” Mrs. Muggins exclaimed, placing several slices of her gorgeously iced cake on the table. “A highwayman in this house! And such a polite young man, too.”

“He paid the awful bird man for Miss Chloe,” Mercy said artlessly.

“Well I never!” Mrs. Muggins stared at Chloe, her eyes like organ stops. “So, you are acquainted with this highwayman?”

“I am not,” Chloe said tartly. This was definitely the sort of rumour her family would object to. “Though he was certainly more civil than the bird man.” And now I owe him money – which he probably stole from someone else... “Is he truly a highwayman, then?”

“So they’re saying.” Mrs. Muggins almost rubbed her hands together in pleasure at her gossiping rights.

“In fact, according to the constable who was in here, he’s the leader of a whole gang of highwaymen who robbed coaches all over Essex and Kent, and even burgled Sir John Grandison’s house during a party!

Now they’ve chased him down here to Sussex. ”

“What’s his name?” asked George who seemed to have confused highwaymen with Robin Hood legends just recently.

“ Well! ” Mrs. Muggins almost sat down in her glee to be asked, then appeared to remember the presence of Lord Lessing’s daughter and bobbed back up again.

“Seems he goes by many names. Some call him Captain Jonty. But then he might go by the name of Berry, too. I myself heard him say his name was Bear. They don’t seem very sure. ”

To Chloe, none of these names seemed to match the man who had smiled at her so dazzlingly and seized the bird man’s jabbing hand in such a quick and powerful grip. And then, surely he had spoken and behaved like a gentleman?

Although he had most definitely run from the officers of the law—in the most spectacular manner that had certainly caused great alarm as well as laughter around the square. Chloe’s heart had been in her mouth when he had jumped the horse over Mrs. Thom’s stall.

“Well, if they are not sure,” Chloe said, “I don’t see how we can be. Eat up, children...”

Mrs. Muggins hurried away to serve more distinguished guests who had just entered. This was Mrs. Dunwoody of Ellscombe House and her daughter Laura, escorted by a gentleman Chloe did not recognize, but of whom Mrs. Dunwoody seemed to be extraordinarily proud.

Laura waved to Chloe at once, which caught her mother’s eye and then the three of them were sailing over to Chloe’s table. Chloe and the children all stood up. So did Shaggy the dog.

“Chloe, what a pleasant surprise,” exclaimed Mrs. Dunwoody, who had known her all her life.

She glanced in some surprise at the children.

“Good heavens. Why don’t you come and sit with us?

Oh, allow me to introduce our guest, Mr. Black.

Sir, Miss Chloe Barclay, who is one of Lord Lessing’s daughters. ”

Chloe curtseyed as best she could, squashed between the table and the dog, and Mr. Black bowed.

He was a rather distinguished, serious-looking man, perhaps around forty years old, with black hair beginning to grey at the temples.

He had a very direct, grey gaze, which Chloe liked, so she smiled at him and looked hastily away when his eyes gleamed with sudden interest.

Laura said, “Come away, Chloe, we’re sitting over here.”

“Oh, the children and I are just about to leave, now that the cake is gone.”

“But there’s a dog,” Mrs. Dunwoody said. “Mrs. Muggins, you must remove it immediately. Most unhygienic!”

Sensing approaching mutiny in the children’s ranks, Chloe said hastily, “Oh, Shaggy is with us and we’re about to take him away. Come along, Mercy.”

Mercy, who was gathering up the last crumbs from her plate, grinned guiltily.

“Oh, then let me give you this now.” Mrs. Dunwoody rummaged in her reticule and came up with a square packet which she placed in Chloe’s hand. “It is just a quick note to your mama, along with cards of invitation to our ball.”

“A ball?” Chloe said, impressed. “How very grand!”

“Not only that,” Laura said, “it’s to be a masquerade ball! You must dress up as whoever you like!”

“I’d be a highwayman,” George said.

Mrs. Dunwoody’s nostrils flared at the interruption, so Chloe spoke first, “Thank you, ma’am, it sounds most agreeable. I shall give it to my mother as soon as I get home. Good day!”

Mr. Black bowed again and looked on somewhat amused as she herded the children and dog out of the inn.

***

“A MASQUERADE?” CHLOE’S mother exclaimed with a curl of her lip. “How very common! It will be like the Pantheon removed to the country.”

“Of course it will not,” Beatrice, Chloe’s older sister said.

“It is a private party, after all, and should be great fun. I don’t remember the Dunwoodys ever entertaining on such a lavish scale before.

Though, of course, they do have that old ballroom at the back of the house. We used to play there as children.”

“They have guests,” Chloe said. “Or at least one guest that I know of, a Mr. Black. Which is quite odd, now I think of it, because Laura never mentioned that they were expecting anyone.”

Chloe’s mother blinked. “Black? Surely not the banker fellow?”

“I have no idea. I only saw them briefly in the Lessing Arms.”

“Mrs. Dunwoody is entertaining a banker ?” Beatrice said in disbelief.

“Well, in this day and age, the gentry cannot afford to be quite so fussy,” Mama said. “We all know Ellscombe is struggling.”

“So is Lessing,” Beatrice said dryly. “I do hope you don’t plan to marry me to some rich, grubby cit to save the estate.”

“Don’t be vulgar, Beatrice,” Mama said.

“Is that what the Dunwoodys mean to do?” Chloe asked, staring. “Marry Laura to Mr. Black? Wouldn’t it work better to marry Jack to a rich heiress?”

“Doesn’t Laura like him?” asked Celia, her younger sister who, at eighteen summers, was desperate to be brought out in society, even though she already planned to marry Jack Dunwoody.

Chloe frowned, trying to recall. “I only saw them for a moment. Actually, I think she did like him.” She had certainly been quite eager to keep his attention. “But he is quite old , so I daresay she is just being friendly.”

Both her sisters regarded her with pity.

“Sometimes, you are as blind as a bat, Chlo,” Beatrice said.

“I am not,” Chloe said without much conviction. “I just had other things on my mind. I haven’t yet told you about the highwayman, have I? He was much more amusing!”

She was half-way through the tale when her brother Richard sauntered into the drawing room, and she had to begin again for delectation.

At fifteen, the heir to Viscount Lessing, was vastly entertained by such a tale and asked all sorts of questions that Chloe could not answer, such as what weapons this prince of the High Toby carried, and whether his pockets had been weighed down with loot.

He was particularly interested in the horse who had answered to a whistle and the reckless escape through—and over—the market stalls.

The tale had to be told yet again to Papa over dinner, though he only scowled in response. “I don’t know what the county’s coming to. Dashed menace, these fellows. Glad it’s Dunwoody’s business and not mine.”

Mr. Dunwoody was the local magistrate.

“I expect the fellow’s long gone,” Richard said with a shade of wistfulness.

Beatrice shuddered. “Let us hope so, for I daresay Mr. Dunwoody has enough on his mind having to entertain a cit.”

“What cit?” Papa demanded and was informed about Mr. Black and the masquerade ball. “Ridiculous idea,” he pronounced.

“Yes, but we will go, won’t we, Papa?” Celia asked anxiously.

“Of course we will,” Mama said, and Papa growled something into his soup.

“All in honour of this Mr. Black too, apparently,” Beatrice said with a grimace. “You would not serve me such a turn, would you, Papa? I could not be happy with such a man.”

“No. No, of course you could not be,” Papa replied.

There was a hint of regret in his voice, for despite the great things expected of Beatrice in the pursuit of a wealthy husband to save the family, she was still unwed at almost two-and-twenty.

This fact annoyed Celia in particular because she and Chloe had been so far denied London Seasons on the grounds that Beatrice, as the eldest, had to be “fired off” first.

Chloe was inclined to giggle at this image, though it cast Celia into a gloom.

Chloe, who had no objection to parties, particularly among old friends, had no desire to be married off.

When she considered it, it was always in some unspecified time in the future, and the perfect husband with whom she would share home and babies, had only a shadowy face and no character beyond devotion.

Her dreams of adventure and different, beautiful lands, were much more detailed and urgent. But no more likely to come true.

She thought of the highwayman at the market and smiled a little wistfully, because that was no doubt as close to adventure as she would ever come.