For a full minute she struggled with herself. Anger and indignation warred with her sense of humour, but at last the humour won and she laughed, not the affected trill of a light-heart, he noticed, but a low, melodious sound, full of warmth.
‘You do well to mock me, Mr Belham. In recent days so much has happened to me that to fall out with you over a few shillings would be absurd and very ungrateful too, but from an early age I have tried always to pay my debts, not to be beholden to anyone. I fear it has become something of an obsession with me.’
He glanced down at her, intrigued again by the repressed passion in her voice. He said gently, ‘I would like to hear your history, Elinor, an you would allow it.’
Her eyes flew to his face: he saw again the fear in her sea-green eyes before the thick lashes concealed her thoughts from him.
‘Perhaps sir, I will tell you, in time, but it is no tale with which to sully such a beautiful winter’s day. Tell me instead if your messenger has yet returned from Knight’s Bridge.’
Belham shook his head. ‘I do not expect him before tomorrow. When he has delivered your note he is to go into Town for me, to learn what news there is. I have heard rumours that French are poised to invade in a fresh attempt to set the Stuart back on the throne and I shall be interested to know what is being said in the coffee houses. These matters are rarely without some substance.’
Elinor shrugged. ‘It is always in someone’s interest to keep the pot boiling. But what shall you do today?’ she asked, suddenly changing the subject. ‘Will you try your luck upon the – the high toby?’
‘Madam, I beg you!’ cried he, feigning horror. ‘Such cant terms upon your lips! But no, I do not go out tonight. I fear Devon may have strained a fetlock – nothing serious, but I’m going to let him rest for a day or two. Normally I would have returned home, but I thought perhaps you might care for a little company this evening.’ He sketched a bow. ‘Mistress Elinor, would you do me the honour of dining with me tonight?’
The lady responded immediately with a curtsy. ‘I should be delighted, sir. A little company is never unwelcome.’
‘Good. However – pardon the indelicacy, ma’am – I must beg permission to use your rooms for the occasion, since I fear ‘twould be tempting Providence for us to use the private parlour downstairs…’
‘But of course.’ She stepped back to make him a most regal curtsy. ‘Pray consider my room as your own, sir, and make such arrangements as are necessary.’
He caught her fingers and raised them to his lips. ‘I vow ‘tis an honour to have your acquaintance. I shall instruct Mistress Carew to prepare dinner, and shall wait upon you at four o’clock!’
* * * *
‘You are looking very well, ma’am, if I may say so.’ Mistress Carew arranged a white kerchief about Elinor’s shoulders and stood back to admire the effect. ‘That walk today has done you the power of good, for it has put the roses back in your cheeks, that it has. Now, I must be off downstairs to see how Becky’s doing in the kitchen – my daughter’s a good girl, ma’am, but she needs watching if we’re not to have burnt offerings for dinner. I’ll send her up later, ma’am, if you’re agreeable, and she can build up the fire and set the table for you, so that you and Master Ralph can enjoy your dinner in comfort.’
‘Megs?’ Elinor did not look up from adjusting the sleeves of her grey silk gown, ‘You do not think it – wrong – that I should be having dinner here, alone, with Mr Belham?’
Mistress Carew looked at her blankly for a few moments, before bursting forth in merry laughter. ‘Bless me, no, my dear!’ she said, when she could at last command her voice. ‘Master Ralph has told me how important it is that we keep you out of sight here, and I can quite see that it would be impossible for you to use the private parlour, for you never know who might just happen to glance in at the window, or come into the inn and discover you. I’m a good, Christian woman, madam, never doubt it, but I don’t see as having dinner with Master Ralph will do you much harm. In fact it’s more likely to help you, for mayhap you’ll eat a little more if there’s someone to keep you company, for it’s precious little you’ve been taking up to now. Hardly enough to keep a bird alive. And another thing,’ continued the good woman, in a much more serious tone. ‘If it keeps the master indoors for a night it will be a blessing, for I don’t mind telling you, Mistress Brown, that I worry about him when he’s out o’ nights, for he’s no need to do it, as I’ve told him often and often, and it’ll be Tyburn Tree for him if he’s caught, and no mistake!’
With this dark warning, the landlady retired, shaking her head.
At precisely four of the clock, Ralph Belham arrived at Elinor’s room. He had done justice to the occasion by donning his best suit of plum-coloured velvet, the coat and waistcoat embellished with silver buttons and silver lacing. A froth of white lace adorned what was visible of his shirt above the waistcoat, and there were matching ruffles at his wrists. His hair was held back by a silver buckle and, for the first time, she noticed the streaks of silver in his dark hair. A dress sword hung by his side and a cocked hat was tucked under one arm, completing the picture. Elinor was impressed.
‘If I had known it was to be such a grand occasion, I should have had my dressmaker send me a new gown, sir!’ She smiled, giving him her hand.
‘You look charming,’ he assured her, kissing her fingers. He grinned ruefully. ‘It is unfortunate that however fine my own dress, my beard ruins the effect by giving me such a piratical appearance.’
Elinor laughed, pleased to find that his words had effectively dispelled the nervousness she was experiencing. The wine was already opened and awaiting them at the table. Ralph escorted Elinor to her seat and filled her glass, and a few moments later Mistress Carew and her daughter entered carrying trays laden with dishes. Some were set out upon the table, others were arranged upon a side table brought in for the purpose, and after checking that everything was to their satisfaction, the landlady followed Becky to the door, pausing only to instruct the diners to enjoy themselves.
* * * *
They took their time selecting from the array of dishes. There was roasted fowl, a glazed ham and spiced brisket with a rabbit fricassee keeping warm in a large covered pot beside the fire. Turnips and carrots tossed in butter glistened in the candlelight and on the side table a plum pudding, apple pie and a large jug of cream awaited their attention. There was no servant to wait upon them, the landlord requiring all his staff in the tap-room and kitchen during the evening, but the diners did not consider this a disadvantage, in fact as the meal progressed Elinor was surprised to find herself relaxing and conversing with Ralph with the easy intimacy of an old friend.
‘Will you tell me about your life?’ she asked as he refilled her glass.
‘There is little to tell: I am the younger son of a very respectable family in Warwickshire. My father owned a small estate there, and as a younger son he wanted me to become a parson. Can you imagine a worse profession for me? Having no taste for the religious life, I went to London where a brief spell of high living soon disposed of my allowance. In an effort to recoup some of my losses, I turned to highway robbery. I worked on the notorious Hounslow Heath for a while, quite successfully. I found the excitement suited me so well that I decided to settle into a regular way of life as a highwayman.’
‘Why did you come here?’ she asked, intrigued by the unconcerned manner in which he spoke of his illegal activities. They had finished their meal, and Elinor sat with her elbows upon the table, resting her chin upon her clasped hands.
‘Hounslow is by far too dangerous to work for long.’ Ralph leaned back in his chair, studying the wine in his glass. ‘Almost every coach upon that road has outriders, or an extra guard. The risks are too great. Besides, one cannot spend every night upon the road. I assist the vicar of Hoddesdon in the running of his charity school there. The pay is meagre, but sufficient for a gentleman down on his luck, and I have lodgings adjoining the school, so I am free to come and go very much as I please, except for a few hours’ teaching.’
‘But surely your frequent absences are remarked?’
‘I put it about that I have a widowed mother living nearby, so no-one questions my movements.’ He laughed suddenly, a hearty, lively laugh, full of energy. ‘Doubtless they think me a most devoted son. I have a broken old nag that suits my schoolmaster image perfectly, and Jem takes care of Devon for me here. With a little cross-country riding I can work any of the northern roads out of the capital, and much less chance of getting caught. Do I shock you?’
‘No, but I am curious to know why you do it.’
‘Oh, for the adventure, mostly. Don’t worry, I haven’t harmed anyone yet – frightened a few, I don’t doubt. No, I take a few gewgaws, or a purse, just sufficient to keep me in comfort. Jem and Megs don’t really approve, but they say very little about it and if I suggest that it would be safer for me to move out, Megs won’t hear of it. I think she’s quite attached to me, in her own way.’
‘I am sure of it,’ smiled Elinor, ‘for she is always talking of Master Ralph. But what of your family – have you no wish to see them? Surely your father would make you an allowance.’
‘Doubtless he would, an I would be a dutiful son, but there’s the rub! I prefer to go my own way, and after so many years I’m too old to change now! Don’t look so troubled, sweetheart, there is very little love lost in my family. I daresay they are all the better for my absence.’
‘But your mother – or – surely there must be someone you care for, some lady you once loved?’
‘My mother died when I was a child, and as for the ladies …’ He threw back his head and gave a loud, merry laugh. ‘Aye, I’ve loved a few in my time, but never seriously. That’s the secret, Elinor, care for nobody, ‘tis the only way to survive. Once you allow yourself to become a victim of the tender passion you are lost, you become vulnerable. But perhaps you would care to argue the point with me?’
She shook her head. ‘No, I think you are right, for that is how I too have survived.’ Before she could continue, there was a scratching upon the door and Mistress Carew came in.
‘If you have done, ma’am, Becky and I will clear away these dishes, for you will be more comfortable to have a tidy room, I daresay, and Jem’s sent up a bottle of brandy for you, Master Ralph, if you are agreeable, for he knows it’s what you like. And there’s a bottle of ratafia for you, ma’am, which is about all we have in the house suitable for ladies, excepting my elderberry wine, which I thought would not be quite what you would want at the end of a meal. Put down that tray, Becky, there’s a good girl, and then you can help me pack up these things.’
She bustled about, chattering inconsequentially as she loaded the dishes onto the trays ready to be taken away. While this was being done, Ralph escorted Elinor to one of the chairs beside the fire, where he pulled up the small table and set upon it the brandy and ratafia, pouring out a glass of each and handing the ratafia to Elinor. By this time Mistress Carew and her daughter were ready to depart and Ralph held upon the door for them to go out. Megs thanked him, adding that it was not for a gentleman to be holding open doors for such as she, and adjuring him to remember that Mistress Elinor was not yet in full health and not to keep her sitting up till all hours.
When he had closed the door, he stood there for a few moments, with such a comical look of relief upon his face that Elinor laughed.
‘Megs is so kind,’ she said, her voice quivering with amusement, ‘but she does like to talk, does she not?’
‘Her tongue runs on wheels, sometimes, but as you say, she has a very kind heart. However, I will take heed of her last words, for you are not yet fully recovered and we must take care that you do not become overtired.’
‘Oh but I am not in the least fatigued,’ she said quickly, ‘Please, sit down and enjoy your brandy.’
He lowered his long frame into the chair, stretching out his legs until his shoes with their large silver buckles were almost in the hearth. For a while they sat in companionable silence, gazing at the flames. Ralph reached forward to pick up another log and throw it onto the fire, and as he sat back in his chair he glanced at Elinor’s thoughtful countenance.
He said gently, ‘I have told you my history, Elinor. Will you not honour me with yours?’
She looked at him, her green eyes seeming to look through him, never seeing the man at all. She smiled faintly.
‘Mine is not an edifying tale, sir. Are you sure you wish to hear it?’
‘I would like you to tell me.’
‘Very well.’ She paused, returning her gaze to the fire, as though the words could be found there. Belham watched her, listening in silence as she spoke of her happy childhood, the only daughter of devoted parents. He observed the play of emotions, clearly visible in her features, as she spoke haltingly of her ordeal at the hands of Lord Thurleigh and his cronies, of her father’s subsequent death and the flight to France. Her tale was plainly told, and he could only guess at the anger and sorrow that was held in check within the slim young woman sitting opposite. When she paused in her story, he went over to the small table and refilled their glasses.
‘You lived peacefully in France?’ He handed her the ratafia. ‘Were you happy in your new life?’
Elinor shrugged, a faint smile touching her lips.
‘I learned to live with my memories. Poor Mama was not so fortunate – or mayhap I am wrong,’ she murmured, almost to herself, ‘mayhap she was more blessed than I, for at the end she lost all memory of those last days in England. She never really recovered from her grief, you see, and she died just two years later, having convinced herself that Papa was alive and soon to join us in France. How I prayed then that God might take me too!’
‘I am glad he did not.’ Ralph smiled faintly. ‘What happened to you after your mother’s death?’
‘I was married by that time. My relatives had arranged it all for me - a very good match, considering my circumstances. Philibert de Sange was very old, very rich, something of a recluse - and an eccentric. He offered a good settlement, and in truth I did not care what became of me.’