A Virtuous Lady (28 page)

He smiled indulgently.
"Certainly not.
Adele's place is within easy distance of Oakdale. Besides, I have known Adele this age. Since the Earl's demise, she has depended on my counsel. Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to have you by my side but, unfortunately, my curricle holds only two comfortably. You don't object, I hope, that I have undertaken this small office for the lady?"

The raging sense of injustice which these provocative words evoked was the perfect antidote to the burden of guilt which had cowed her spirits since she had first told the Awful Lie. "Why should I object?" Briony asked, averting her eyes to conceal their sudden flash of hostility. "As you say, your intimacy—I beg your pardon—your friendship with the lady is of long standing. Indeed, the first time I set eyes on her— no, now I think on it, that would have been in the library of
Broomhill
, but that scene of depravity is best forgotten, is it not, my lord?" she asked tightly, and felt that she had won a small victory when the bland smile was wiped clean from Ravensworth's face. "The second time I set eyes on her, when you kindly introduced us outside
Hatchard's
, you were even then acting in the capacity of the lady's man of business— something to do with her late husband's estate, as I recall. Obviously, Adele has never been in the way of administering her own affairs." This veiled reference to
Briony's
sole management of the income from her considerable fortune had Ravensworth's brow as black as thunder, but Briony was in full spate and nothing could dam her now. "No doubt the experience of being looked up to is a very gratifying one for you," she went on, her voice dripping with condescension, for
all the
world as if such a thing was so extraordinary as to be almost unthinkable. "Pray, do not concern yourself about my feelings in the matter, for I have none. In you absence," she went on smoothly, not above throwing in a malicious jibe of her own, "I daresay I shall continue to amuse myself tolerably well with only my cousin for company since Vernon has some errand which necessitates a trip to town."

"Indeed? Then I bid you good day, madam," Ravensworth replied as stiff as a board, and jamming his curly-brimmed beaver smartly on his head, descended the staircase calling for his curricle to be made ready at the double.

Briony's
temper was at full boil as she watched him stalk out through the foyer and slam the door violently in his wake. An hour before in the breakfast room and laboring under the crushing weight of her guilty conscience had seen her tongue-tied in Ravensworth's presence. Such a circumstance was not to be wondered at. She had been raised to prize honesty as a supreme virtue, eschewing even those little white lies which Society deemed indispensable for social intercourse. She knew that she had done wrong. But his iniquitous conduct in paying court to a lady of dubious reputation, even although Briony dismissed the notion that Adele was a serious rival for her husband's affections, had overset her equilibrium completely. Her sense of inner serenity before Ravensworth had come into her life had been a constant, as safe and dependable as the Bank of England. She had been a passive sort of a girl then, as far as she could remember. Now look at her! She had quite deliberately fanned his smoldering anger to a white heat, nor was she sorry to have given him what, in vulgar terms, was called a "leveler." He deserved it.

She caught up her skirts and went racing up the stairs to her room. Within minutes, she was donning her best olive green bombazine riding habit in a gesture of defiance calculated to make her feel as dashing as the flamboyant Adele. Ravensworth would not be there to appreciate it, but she had promised to conduct Caldwell on a tour of the estate and was determined that at least one gentleman would be made aware that Briony Langland was not some negligible
quizz
who could be ignored with impunity.

It was a gentleman of Caldwell's ilk and background that die had once taunted Ravensworth with as being most suitable as a
parti
for a Quaker girl. He was everything that was pleasing. He understood her scruples and misgivings. He shared her outlook and opinions. He was a man of Conscience. How strange, then, that she should find him rather too tame and colorless to excite even a mild interest in her breast. Ravensworth, unpredictable, spoiled, overbearing, hot-tempered, and unscrupulous as he might be, had completely captured her reluctant heart. Love was an emotion which was incomprehensible and illogical, she told herself morosely, and she wanted nothing to do with it.

Vernon's errand to the port of
Folkstone
was in the nature of a reconnoitering expedition. He had used all his powers of persuasion—with good reason as it turned out—to convince the doubting American not to venture abroad at such a critical moment. Caldwell had finally given way, not without some reluctance, and had given Vernon the direction of his Quaker contacts with instructions to ascertain whether all was in readiness for his departure on the morrow as had long since been arranged. It was Caldwell's intention to board ship in the middle of the English Channel (with a captain who had been well bribed for his assistance) and to pass himself off as one of the crew. When the ship docked in Halifax some weeks later, he hoped to make his way by easy
stages to his home in Rhode Island, confident that on the way he would find shelter and assistance with any Canadian or American who claimed to be of the Quaker persuasion notwithstanding the present state of hostilities which existed between the two countries. Caldwell knew that to Quakers such a circumstance would weigh little or nothing.

He had deemed it prudent to keep his hosts ignorant of the exact day of his departure since he had no wish to have Ravensworth, out of a sense of obligation, accompany him on any part of his journey. He did not think that the sudden decampment of two young bucks of fashion for greener pastures would discommode their host in the least and he wished to protect Briony should Ravensworth take it into his head to question her closely about the movements of her guests.

Vernon returned late in the afternoon with some disquieting news. As he rode toward the stables at breakneck speed, he caught sight of his sister and friend taking a turn in the
herbary
. Ravensworth, he noted with some relief, was nowhere to be seen. Without loss of motion, he wheeled his steed and bore down upon them, a cloud of dust kicking up at his heels. He reined in sharply, and at the unexpected pressure on its mouth, his mount reared and stamped to a sudden halt. Vernon was on his feet in an instant, running to close the short gap between himself and Caldwell.

"There's no time to lose," he began, his breath labored from his exertion. "We must leave at once. The constable is on his way. He means to speak to Ravensworth about some poor devil of an American who has escaped detention." He stood with shoulders heaving, fighting to regain his breath.

For a moment Caldwell looked at the younger man in some bewilderment. Then his friend's sense of urgency seemed to transmit itself to him. "The constable is on his way, you say?"

"I rode like the devil to warn you. He cannot be more than half an hour behind me. All foreigners have to show their
papers, so you
see,
you cannot pass yourself off as a Canadian."

Caldwell stood irresolute for a moment as he assimilated Vernon's words. "What about the
Heriots
?" he asked at last. "When do they expect me?"

Vernon made a show of impatience as his friend gave no sign that he understood the urgency of the situation. "They charged me to tell you to stay out of sight until nightfall. It is unsafe at present to travel while it is still light."

"But where will you go7" asked Briony in a stricken voice.

"It doesn't signify. We'll hide in the woods if we must! For God's sake, hurry!" Vernon exclaimed, and turned on his heel without waiting for a response.

"Hold! I'd like a few words with your sister. See to my horse, will you, Vernon?"

Vernon vaulted into the saddle and flung impatiently over his shoulder, "Be quick about it. I'd
liefer
run into the constable than my good-brother."

Caldwell seized Briony by the elbow and propelled her toward the stables. "I must take my leave of you at once. It wouldn't do if you were discovered sheltering me. You would be taken as an accessory, you see."

Briony had been thinking furiously while listening to the exchange between her companions. "Never mind that now," she said, putting her free hand on Caldwell's arm in a compelling manner. "I know the perfect hiding place. There is a broken-down cottage on the estate behind the mill pond—it's used as a store by the
groundsmen
. You must remember it. We rode past it this morning."

"I know it," he said curtly, taking her roughly by the elbow once more to hasten her along. "Now listen to me. You must remove
every evidence
of our presence at Oakdale. Do you understand? It must not look as if we've bolted. Tell anyone who asks that Vernon and I heard of a mill—that is, a boxing match—which is taking place in Henley and on the spur of the moment we decided to make for it. Young
gentleman of fashion are
known to be unpredictable. No one will think us the worse for it. Have you got that, Briony?"

"What about your things? What do you wish me to do with them?"

Caldwell shrugged. "Vernon can come back in a day or two and dispose of them. I shall have to beg, borrow, or steal other garments for the present. It's of no consequence. But in the meantime, hide them or destroy them as you will."

They reached the stable yard just as Vernon led out two fresh mounts saddled and ready.

"Don't look so worried," said Caldwell with a wry smile, and then he swung himself smoothly into the saddle. "By this time tomorrow I shall be safely on the high seas." He raised his hand in salute.

Briony gazed anxiously into the animated faces of the two young men and had the strangest feeling that they were in the throes of some peculiar exhilaration from which she was excluded. "Wait!" she called out as they wheeled their horses in the direction of the gravel drive which led deeper into the estate. "I'll come to you tonight as soon as may be. I'll bring some food and a change of clothes. Wait for me at the cottage."

Caldwell looked doubtful, but Briony had already turned to run back to the house. "Be careful," he shouted after her,
then
dug in his heels, urging his horse forward in pursuit of Vernon.

Briony had barely finished throwing the last of Vernon's things into his portmanteau when she heard movement and voices below. After a careful check to ensure that the coast was clear, she lost no time in hauling her cumbersome burden to her own chamber, where she deposited it beside Caldwell's small grip. Even in her agitation, she was able to smile ruefully at the discrepancy in the garments which the respective gentlemen favored. Brother Vernon's wardrobe gave every indication that its owner aspired to be a very pink of the ton. Mr. Caldwell's taste in clothes, on the other hand, as was to be expected, was more conservative and proclaimed him to be a follower of the incontestable
arbitrar
of taste, Mr. George
Brummel
. For a Quaker, even this was beyond what was deemed acceptable, and Briony inferred that her "cousin" belonged to the fraternity of "gay" Quakers who eschewed the plain ways of the majority of Friends.

With much pushing and pulling, she finally contrived to conceal the incriminating evidence under her bed. She had barely time to smooth the crumpled coverlet when a gentle knocking sounded on her door.

"Your ladyship," came the soft, countrified accents of her maid, "the county constable is below and begs a few minutes of your time."

Briony felt her heart race uncomfortably against her ribs. "Tell him I'll be down directly," she said through the closed door. She must get a grip on herself, she thought, as she tried to steady her breathing. It was not only Caldwell whom she had to protect now, but Ravensworth as well. His loyalty to the Crown must never be in question. He would be ruined if the authorities discovered that he had harbored an enemy of the state under his roof. There was no way he could prove his innocence. Briony shuddered. What a pass she had brought them to. Well, she would get them out of it.
In for a penny, in for a pound.
And on that encouraging note, the Quaker maid squared her thin shoulders and went resolutely to contend with no less a foe than His Majesty's representative, the Chief Constable of the county of Kent.

Half an hour later, as she saw the King's law ride briskly away, Briony was in high alt. It had never occurred to her that she would have passed muster so easily. How facile a liar she had become with a little practice! The constable had accepted the sudden departure of the young men as a matter of course, just as Caldwell had predicted he would, and had seemed ill at ease in having to subject a lady of
Briony's
consequence to interrogation. He had made it evident from the outset that his presence at Oakdale was in the nature of a formality and had conducted himself with the utmost civility and deference. His visit lasted barely long enough to consume the glass of sherry which Briony had pressed upon him. So readily did the affable gentleman accept every word that proceeded out the mouth of the devious
lady, that
the faint hope was born in her that the dreaded interview with Ravensworth might pass off more easily than she deserved.