"Nay."
"Oh." Charlie glanced away, then back, a frown tugging at her lips as she continued to study the young woman's calm continence. "Then why do you say all will be well like that?"
Bessie smiled. "I have said a prayer to Saint Sebastian."
"St. Sebastian? Is he not the saint for the plague?"
"Aye, well, there are no plagues about just now so I thought he might be the least busy. Besides, it worked when I was locked in at Aggie's. He sent me you."
Charlie simply nodded. She was all for prayers and such, but had found in her life that it was always good to help prayers along a bit with some effort of one's own. After all, plague or no plague, saints were awfully busy fellows.
They couldn't be expected to be everywhere and do everything asked of them.
Clearing her throat, she offered a reassuring smile. "There is little we can do at the moment but rest. When we see our chance, we shall make our escape."
"Aye. Besides, Lord Radcliffe is no doubt charging after us right now." At Charlie's blank look, she pointed out, " 'Tis well past noon. No doubt Mrs.
Hartshair has realized something is amiss and fetched the blackmailer's letter to give to him. He will go to the inn and force that nasty old barkeep to tell him where we are being taken, then he shall follow and rescue us." She said it as if she had the deepest faith in the matter. Charlie didn't have the heart to tell her that the letter in question was presently lining the inside of her pocket.
"Slow down. Stokes. We must read the inn names for Mrs. Hartshair,"
Radcliffe shouted out the window as the carriage turned into Change Alley.
Fred had already left with the carriage when Stokes had gone in search of him.
The fastest option at that point had been to hire a hack and Stokes had left promptly to do so. As soon as he had left, Beth had rushed upstairs to fetch some things that they may need. She had returned with the large sack Tomas now held on his lap, just as Stokes had arrived back at the helm of a rickety old coach.
It seemed that all the drivers had been out on fares when he'd reached the stables, and that he had only managed to gain the hack he had at an absorbitant fee. Assuring Radcliffe that he had served in a stable in his youth and could well handle driving the contraption. Stokes had pointed out that speed was of the essence and urged him to fetch the household. Andmuch to Radcliffe's dismayin the end it had been the entire household. Beth and Tomas had insisted on going, of course, and Mrs. Hartshair was needed for the name of the inn. But Radcliffe had not counted on having to take her two children as well.
Unfortunately, after learning that the cook next doorthe only woman friend Mrs.
Hartshair had managed to make since taking over the cooking at Radcliffe'swas laid up in bed with pneumonia, there had been little choice but to take the children with them. Which was why Radcliffe had Billy, Mrs. Hartshair's son, on his lap, while she held her daughter Lucy on her own in the cramped confines of the carriage.
"The Fox and Whistle Lin," Beth called out, leaning out of her window on the opposite side of the carriage, glancing back to see Mrs. Hartshair shake her head firmly.
Peering out his own window, Radcliffe began reading the names of any passing inns himself, disheartened each time the cook said "nay." He was becoming seriously concerned that she had recalled the wrong street address when he called out the next name. He glanced back to see her spring to attention like a soldier.
"That's it! The Cock and Bull. That's it, I tell you!"
Hearing her excited cry. Stokes pulled over at once and Radcliffe quickly set young Billy on his feet in the carriage so that he could disembark. Tomas was right behind him when he stepped down from the carriage, but paused to frown at Beth when she, too, followed.
"Nay, Beth. You should wait here with Mrs. Hartshair and Stokes."
"But, dressed as I am, they may think I am Charlie and talk more freely."
"We do not even know who Charlie was meeting here."
"All the more reason to take me with you," she argued staunchly. "They may give themselves away when they see me."
"She may be right," Radcliffe murmured when Tomas opened his mouth to refuse her again. When the younger man nodded reluctantly, Beth was off at once, leading the way to the inn. They entered.
"Noone seems to be reacting," Tomas pointed out, his gaze moving narrowly around the room as the three of them paused inside the door to allow their eyes to adjust.
"Aye. Let's talk to the barkeep."
Once again, Beth led the way. The moment the beefy barkeep spied her, they knew they had hit pay dirt. His jaw dropped so far that it almost hit the floor.
"What the devil are ye doing back here? Ye should be well on the way to"
He caught himself just in time, but cried out in the next moment as Radcliffe stepped around Elizabeth, caught the beefy man by the throat, and dragged him halfway across the counter. "Well on the way to where?"
His eyes bulged in alarm, but his mouth stayed firmly closed until Radcliffe made a fist with his free hand and brought it up to the man's face. "You were saying?"
"Gretna," he blurted out.
"Gretna Green?" Radcliffe's hand clenched tighter on the throat he held.
Turning blue in the face, the man choked out an affirmation, and Radcliffe released him to whirl toward the exit with Beth and Tomas hurrying after him.
"That must be where Carland and Uncle Henry were headed when we ran into them,"
Beth murmured worriedly as they reached the carriage. "Were they the blackmailers."
Nodding, Radcliffe opened the door. "Come along, Mis. Hartshair. I shall give you some money and you may hire a hack to get you and the children back to the townhouse."
"My lord!" Stokes cried, even as Beth gasped. "You cannot simply dump the lady and her children here unattended."
"This is a rather nasty neighborhood, Radcliffe," Tomas murmured reasonably.
"You are right, of course. Stokes, you stay with them and see them home. Tomas and I shall take turns heading the horses for this journey."
A concerned murmur from Beth made him glance at her to see her staring at her husband's stoic face.
"I shall be fine," Mowbray assured her quietly, but she shook her head.
"My lord, Tomas and his driver took turns driving to Gretna Green and back. It is how we managed the journey so quickly. As it is, the two men were so exhausted last night that we decided to rest the night at an inn. Of course, after hearing Carland and Uncle Henry's discussion, we had to give up our room and hurry home. He has had very little sleep the last four days and nights.
I fear heis not up to sharing the duty."
"I will manage it," Tomas reiterated firmly, but Beth shook her head apologetically.
"If this concerned anyone but Charlie, I would be willing to risk it, Tom, but"
"She is right," Radcliffe announced with obvious frustration. "We cannot risk it with Charlie's future at stake."
When he turned to survey the woman and children peering at him uncertainly from the carriage, Mrs. Hartshair offered him a hesitant smile. "My babies will be good, my lord. They tend to sleep during long trips."
Radcliffe threw up his hands in defeat. "Very well. Everyone back into the carriage. We shall all have to go. Stokes and I shall take turns at driving.
Tomas, you rest up so that you may be of assistance later." He knew better than to suggest the man stay here. He would not stay behind without his new bride, and Beth would not allow him to ride off to Charlie's rescue without her.
"Oh, my."
"Oh, m'lady," Bessie murmured, eyeing her with concern. "Are you not well?"
Charlie ignored Bessie's question, doing her best to concentrate on anything but how she was feeling. "Oh, dear."
"Are you all right, m'lady?" Bessie moved anxiously closer, staring at her face with a half-horrified expression.
"Oh, Lord." Charlie groaned, closing her eyes and trying to concentrate on bright sunny days in the park. On fresh green grass nice firm, unmoving glass that a body could stand on without feeling as though they were pitching about in a small, tight, airless carriage that was bouncing along a rutted road.
"Yer lookin' kind of green."
"Oh, God!" Charlie grabbed desperately for the door, thrusting it open in a panic.
Crying out in alarm, Bessie grasped her arm, keeping Charlie from leaping out of the moving vehicle right away. By the time she had shaken off the maid's hold, the man riding on the footman's stand at the back of the carriage had spotted the open door, shouted a warning, and the carriage was slowing to a halt.
It had nearly come to a stop when Charlie stumbled weakly out onto the roadside. The villain from the back of the carriage was there at once, solid and stem before her, blocking her path. Charlie covered her mouth and tried to step around him, but he mirrored her movement, determined to stop her from succeeding at what he thought was an escape attempt.
Charlie tried one more time to avoid him as her stomach roiled dangerously, but he remained directly before her. There was little she could do to prevent what happened when her stomach refused to stay down and he refused to get out of the way. Charlie tossed her stomach's contents all over the man's feet and lower legs.
"Oh, gor! Putrid damn Ugh!" The man stumbled several steps away, trying to escape the fowl stuff, but as it was on him, he couldn't possibly succeed.
Charlie felt a moment's embarrassment at what had happened, but soothed herself with the fact that she had done all she could to avoid the event Besides, he was a villain.
"They were here, my lord."
Radcliffe straightened from examining the new horses the stable master was harnessing to the carriage in trade for the original four, to eye Stokes questioningly. "Charlie?"
"Aye, my lord. It seems she was taken ill. She had er passed up her breakfast on one of the fellows. They stopped here to trade horses and let the fellow clean up. They also purchased some laudanum. Presumably they are hoping to make her sleep the rest of the way so that she causes them no more trouble."
"How long ago was this?"
"They apparently arrived nearly six hours ago, but had trouble finding and purchasing the laudanum so that they only left four hours ago."
"If weleave right away, we will have gained two hours on them," Tom said with excitement.
Radcliffe nodded, but wasn't quite as excited by the fact. They were still four hours behind them, and with Charlie in a laudanum-induced sleep, there was little likelihood she could slow them down further. Their only hope of catching them before reaching Gretna was if the other carriage lost a wheel or something.
A roar went up from the man in the back that was quickly echoed by those at the front as they glanced around to see Charlie swaying in the open door of the carriage. They managed to bring the hack to a halt just as she leapt to the side of the road.
Sinking to her knees, she proceeded to toss up the latest dose of laudanum she had been given. Actually, she did not mind being sick this time and hadn't since the first time they had forced the laudanum on her. She'd had every intention of sticking her finger down her throat to bring up the drug the first time they had forced it on her, but had hardly needed to. They had barely set off in the coach again when she had felt her stomach roil. They had just made it around the first bend in the road when she had felt it charging up her throat. Just as the tincture Beth had given her on the way to London had refused to stay down, so had the laudanum. Charlie had been getting sick at regular intervals ever since, forcing them tostop repeatedly, much to their captors' disgust.
It was a shame Bessie was not right and that Radcliffe wasn't chasing after them. Then at least, this bout of misery she was having to endure would be working to their advantage by allowing him to catch up to them.
Unfortunately, there was no way he could know that they had been kidnapped and where they were headed.
"Not much farther now."
"Aye. But will we be in time?" Radcliffe nibbed a weary hand over his face.
Tomas was driving again. Stokes was in the cabin with Beth and the Hartshairs, resting. They had been taking turns, one man sleeping, one driving, and one keeping the driver company. Every six hours of the last nearly forty hours they had switched roles. Now they were not even an hour away from their destination.
Radcliffe would have been relieved to have the nearly two-day trip done with were he not so terrified that at this very minute Charlie might be being forced to marry Carland. That worry made the last hour of the trip pass like days for Radcliffe. By the time they arrived, he was so wound up that he was off the carriage before it had even come to a standstill.
Striding into the stables, he quickly found the man in charge, learned that no one fitting Charlie and Bessie's description had arrived at his establishment, arranged for the care of the horses, then hurried back outside. "They did not stop here. We shall have to ask around."
"M'lady?"
Charlie opened her eyes slowly, and groaned.
The world was still rocking. Was this hell not over yet?
"M'lady?" Bessie repeated, bending to peer down at her.
They were once again on the floor of the carriage. Actually, the floor of the carriage was where Charlie had spent the last night and day of this trip. It was where the men had deposited her after her last bout of sickness, and Charlie, too weak and miserable to bother moving, had stayed there. Bessie had joined her in an effort to make her more comfortable. Charlie was positive no one in England had a better maid than Bessie.
"M'lady? I think we are nearly there."
Charlie raised her head to peer out the window, her gaze finding a small grove of firs in the near distance. She had heard enough to know that that was the landmark to look for. "Aye. We have arrived."
"What are we going to do?"
Charlie peered at her through the pre-dawn darkness. Unfortunately, Charlie had no idea what they would do, but as she had gotten the girl into this mess, she tried to rouse herself to some sensibility. Pushing herself weakly to a sitting position, she then dragged herself up to sit on the bench seat and sighed as fresh air blew in the open window to brush soothingly across her face.