“We can find nothing.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Mmm. Thank you.” He was silent for a moment or two, then went on in a brighter tone, “She’s very pleased about the girls, though. We haven’t seen them look this rosy-cheeked for a long time.” As Ben happened to be passing just then with Georgie, he stopped his friend to say, “I was just complimenting the ladies on the way they run their school. We did ourselves a favour bringing them to Tapton, did we not?”
“Indeed.”
Georgie went over to Martha, turning her back on her brother. “Your new dress looks pretty, Miss Merridene.”
Ben looked at the dress, which had been the cause of another incident he couldn’t forget. It was blue, almost the colour of Martha’s eyes, though not as bright as they were, and it had sleeves which were wide at the top, but not ridiculous like Belinda’s. The whole was finished with a neat lace frill at neck and wrist and her bonnet was trimmed with matching blue ribbon and lace. He thought it very becoming after the blacks he’d seen her in so far.
And the girls weren’t the only ones to be rosy-cheeked. The Merridene sisters were also the picture of health. They’d been a good influence on Georgie and it was churlish of him not to admit that, but before he could speak, they’d begun to take their leave, so the opportunity was lost.
“Please give your wife our regards, Mr Wright.” Penelope took her sister’s arm and nodded farewell to Ben, since Martha had been avoiding even looking at him.
After they’d gone, Jonas frowned at his friend. “What’s the matter? Have you and Miss Merridene quarrelled about something? You’re as surly as a bear and she was obviously keeping her distance from you.”
“Um, nothing important. Just a small disagreement. I probably spoke too strongly.”
Jonas couldn’t hide his surprise and Georgie looked at her brother in disgust. He’d been quarrelling with everyone lately and even Hepzibah seemed annoyed with him. And what a fuss he’d made and was still making about Peter Brindley! It was ridiculous.
If only her mother would let her go back to York on a visit! She had nothing to look forward to, nothing! She might as well be dead as living like this. And if
he
thought buying her a few novels made a difference, he was wrong!
Ben watched the Merridene sisters walk away, chatting animatedly as usual. Their fondness for one another seemed to emphasise the way he and Georgie hardly knew one another. He’d tried to do his best for her and watch over her, but the way they were living wasn’t making either of them happy. What he wouldn’t give to enjoy such easy relations with someone!
Suddenly he noticed Brindley standing to one side, staring at Georgie longingly, damn his eyes! And she was smiling at him again. Taking her arm, he said abruptly, “We have to get home now.”
She shook his hand off. “I can walk without your help, thank you very much. You take far too long strides for me to be comfortable on your arm.”
They made their way back in silence and she went up to her room at once, leaving him alone in the parlour. In the end he went for a walk round the silent mill, so different from the clattering, noisy place of weekdays, then sat in the chilly office, thinking how much he disliked Sundays. To hell with having a day of rest! If you had nothing to do, you only started worrying and that was no help to anyone.
But he would have to apologise to Martha, he decided, and try to explain what was upsetting him. Only that was going to be a little difficult because he didn’t really know himself whether he was doing the right thing by Georgie.
When his sister came down to the midday meal, it was obvious that she’d been crying.
“What’s wrong, Georgie?” he asked gently. “Can’t we talk about it?”
She scowled at him. “Everything’s wrong, but most of all
you!
I hate you, Ben Seaton!” Tears welled in her eyes and she flung down her napkin, shoving her chair back so violently it fell over.
He heard her sob as she ran out of the room, then her feet pounded up the stairs. He followed her, heard the key turn in the lock of her bedroom door and knocked. “Georgie, open the door, love. We can’t go on like this.”
“No, I won’t open it. I don’t want to talk to you. Go away and leave me alone!”
She didn’t answer again, though he tried hard to persuade her to come out.
That put an abrupt end at his efforts to get closer to her. He finished his own meal, then told Hepzibah to keep something for Georgie and try to tempt her to eat later. After fidgeting round for a few minutes, he put on his boots and greatcoat and went out for a long tramp across the moors, not caring that it was a cold day and his face growing numb from the biting wind.
* * * *
On the Tuesday morning Noll said to his son over breakfast. “Better pack your things this morning. It’s all arranged for this afternoon.”
Peter took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t do it to her.”
Noll choked on a piece of ham and when he’d finished spluttering, leaned forward and said in an ominously quiet voice, “You’ll do as we planned.”
“You can’t make me.”
Noll looked at him and remembered the lad’s mother. Eh, Peter was just like her. Soft but stubborn sometimes too. “What’s got into you? Why have you changed your mind?”
“Because she’s a nice girl and it’d be a dreadful thing to do to her. A gentleman just wouldn’t!”
Noll looked at him, muttered something and did the unthinkable—pushed his food aside and left without a second helping or another of his many daily cups of tea.
When the house was quiet Peter went up to his bedroom and stared bleakly out of the window. He might be trapped here, as his mother had been, but no one could make him kidnap Georgie Seaton, not even his father. As for ravishing her, even the thought of that sickened him.
Why had he been born to such a man? He thanked heaven for his mother’s blood, for the morals she had gently taught him.
And he tried yet again to think of a way out of this dreadful situation.
* * * *
After a midday meal during which the two men hardly said a word to one another, Peter went up to his bedroom again, feeling rather sleepy. He had nothing to do and it was cold outside, with snow threatening, to judge from the heavy clouds which had been building up all morning. As his father didn’t approve of fires upstairs, the room was too cold for comfort so he lay down on the bed and pulled the covers over himself.
Half an hour later his father opened the door and walked across to stare down at the sleeping figure on the bed. He shook Peter just to be sure that the laudanum had worked and when his son didn’t stir, went up to the attics and got out a travelling bag. Back in Peter’s bedroom he stuffed it full of a selection of clothes, not wishing to entrust this to the servants, then slung a warm cloak across the foot of the bed in readiness.
Won’t do it, indeed! he thought. You’ll do as I tell you, my lad. You’re too weak to hold out against me.
Downstairs he went out through the back door and hurried across to the mill, stopping in the doorway to look up at the sky. Damned weather! Why did it have to threaten snow today of all days? But it hadn’t started snowing yet and would surely hold off long enough to serve his purpose.
In his office he rang his little handbell briskly and when Gerry appeared, said only, “Tell them it’s on for an hour’s time. I’ve packed him a bag and they’re to take his warm cloak.”
“What about the Seaton girl? What’s she to wear?”
Noll grinned. “I told Jack to get her some nightgowns and wrappers, no outdoor clothes. We don’t want her running away, do we?”
“No. Of course not.” Gerry went to do his master’s bidding, but to his mind, this was a bad business and nothing would persuade him otherwise. He felt sorry for that poor lass, he did indeed.
He sent a lad to his home with the message and waited for the three men to turn up with the carriage, as promised. They arrived in an elderly posting chariot whose paintwork was faded, pulled by two sturdy horses. He went to fetch Noll, who came out to gesture to them to drive round to the rear of the house. Gerry hesitated, then trailed behind them.
Jack got out of the carriage followed by another man, a huge fellow with a broken nose. The driver stayed where he was, huddled in a heavy coachman’s cloak, with extra capes over the shoulders. His hat was pulled over his ears and a muffler wound round his neck.
“Nice day for a kidnapping,” Jack commented.
Noll put one finger to his lips. “Shh, you fool! Don’t shout it out for all the world to hear. Just wait there till I get rid of the maids, then I’ll show you where Peter’s room is. You’ll have to carry him down to the carriage.”
“Hasn’t he got feet of his own?”
“He’s a bit reluctant to upset the young lady—comes of being brought up a gentleman—so I gave him a little dose of sleeping juice. When you get there, you’re to lock him in the bedroom with her and take her clothes away. She can only have the nightdresses and shawls. Even if he never lays a finger on her, she’ll need to wed him if they’ve spent three or four days and nights together.”
His eyes narrowed and he looked at the two men. “But think on! I’d be very angry indeed if either of you touched her. Remember that.”
“We’ll remember. But we’d better get a piece of rope and tie him up before we leave. We don’t want him waking too soon and causing trouble on the way there, do we?”
“Good idea. Go and fetch some rope, Gerry. Plenty of it. Now, you lot wait there a minute.”
Noll went into the kitchen, where he looked at the cook and said simply, “You’ve had your orders.”
She nodded, wiped her hands on a cloth, used it to pull a pan off the hot part of the hob then took the maid up to the attics, where they’d been instructed to stay for the next half-hour and not look out of the windows. Both of them were too glad of a rest to disobey.
Noll waited until the sound of their footsteps had died away, then went to the back door and beckoned. Jack and Hobb hurried across, followed by Gerry with a coil of rope. Noll led the way upstairs to Peter, who was still sleeping soundly. “Don’t know when he’ll wake. Hard to judge the dose.”
“Doesn’t matter now.” Hobb tied Peter’s hands and feet, wrapped him in the cloak then slung him over his shoulder.
When Noll pointed to the bag of clothing, Gerry picked it up, then they all went downstairs again as quietly as they’d gone up.
Within minutes the carriage was driving away.
* * * *
Georgie walked home, as usual, along the lane behind the church, deliberately not keeping up with Hepzibah, who turned to her half-way along to say, “What’s the matter with you today, girl? Going too fast for you, am I?”
“Yes.”
Rolling her eyes at the heavens, Hepzibah noticed the first of the snow fluttering down, tiny flakes but coming from a sky which seemed to hang down almost to the church spire with the weight of further falls. “Drat it! I knew it was going to snow. It’s been snowing already on the tops.”
Georgie looked up and sighed. “When we lived out in the country I used to love snow. It was all white and beautiful there, but in a town it soon turns dirty and there’s no pleasure in walking through brown slush.” She looked ahead and frowned. “What’s that carriage doing there? There’s hardly room to get past it. I don’t recognise it, do you?”
“No.” Even as she spoke, the door of the carriage opened and a man jumped out, coming towards them with a smile. “I wonder if you could direct me to Mr Berringham’s house, ma’am?”
“There’s no one of that name in Tapton,” Hepzibah began, “and—”
A second man had followed the first and suddenly she felt uneasy, however polite her questioner had been. She didn’t have time to say or do anything, however, because the larger man suddenly grabbed her, putting his hand across her mouth to prevent her from screaming, and the one who’d spoken did the same to Georgie.
Being more agile, Georgie managed to break the man’s hold for long enough to scream for help, but there was no one nearby and it took him only a minute to squeeze her throat in a certain place that rendered her unconscious. He pushed her limp body into the carriage then turned to help Hobb tie the wildly struggling Hepzibah up, stuffing a handkerchief in her mouth before putting her into the carriage as well.
The driver immediately told the horses to “Walk on” and they clopped gently round the church towards the main square.
Terrified, Hepzibah tried to struggle, but the big man only laughed at her and held her still as the carriage rumbled out of the town. The other man tied up Miss Georgie, joking about her pretty ankles to his companion.
It was dim inside the carriage with the blinds down, but not too dim for her to see a man’s body lying on the seat opposite, covered in a cloak and seeming totally unconscious—or dead? Then she noticed that his ankles were bound together, so he must be a prisoner too. Dear heavens, what did these villains want? Were they going to kill them all? Why? She managed to turn her head enough to see that Georgie was stirring.
She could feel the carriage climbing now, so guessed they’d left the town behind, but heading in which direction she couldn’t tell. Some time later the vehicle drew to a halt and the man who seemed to be the leader opened the carriage door and dragged Hepzibah out. She tried to struggle, thinking he was going to kill her.
He spoke in a strange hoarse voice. “Be still, you silly bitch and you’ll not get hurt. Now listen to me.” He gave her a shake to make sure she was paying attention. “Tell your master not to come looking for her. She’ll not be hurt but she’ll be well hid. We’ll let him know when she’s ready to come home.”
He reached behind her and loosened the bonds a little, then pushed her over so that she fell into the snow, which was quite deep up here.
By the time she’d freed herself the carriage had disappeared. She stood up and tried to brush her clothes down, looking round and recognising where she was. Despair filled her. The place had been well chosen. It was quite a way out of town on foot. What’s more, there was a crossroads just over the brow of the hill, so the carriage could go in any direction, and there were no farms up here on the tops. With a sob she turned towards the town. It would be a long walk back in weather like this, and she was only wearing her normal shoes, not her heavy winter boots.