"All right—I'll take it there for you. There is time. I cannot just walk peacefully out, after being at such pains to have joined your party. How shall we arrange my departure?" He spoke hurriedly, in his eagerness to achieve his end. A youthful smile alit on his harsh face. "But of course! We shall have a fight. In the heat of my temper, I stomp out. Carlisle will suspect I am lurking around the closest corner, and think little of it. The battle causes a recrudescence of your migraine—how is it, by the by?"
"Much better. It was the hunger that caused it."
"Good. You shall have a migraine
quand même,
and send Carlisle off for a sawbones, while you and your aunt dart back to Raffertys. It will be a dead bore for you, but perfectly safe. He won't think of looking for you there, do you think? Even if he does, you can tell them what is happening, and they won't let him in. Oakdene looks a strongish fortress. The letter will be safe in my keeping, so you need not worry about that end of it. What do you think?"
She thought it an acceptable plan. Carlisle was not to be sent off till after Kiley had left, and once he was gone, there was no need to send him at all unless she wanted to. That decision could await. She had no intention, of course, of returning to Raffertys. She must get hold of a map and find another route to Ipswich, at all speed. "Fine," she said, smiling with contentment.
"I am very happy we got all this business straightened out at last. I look forward to meeting you under less harassing circumstances at a later date, Miss Bradford." He allowed a little smile to lighten his eyes, and a lingering glance to settle on her face, but soon his eagerness prevailed and he said, "May I have the letter, then?"
"You'll have to turn away while I extract it," she answered. She found, to her consternation, that she was blushing.
"So
that's
where it is," he said, laughing, but very softly, so as not to call Carlisle's attention. He turned his head aside obediently while she pulled the letter out, warm and crumpled.
He took it, read the address, turned it over. "No seal?" he asked, surprised.
"Papa was in such a rush, he must have forgotten," she said, looking at the envelope. Then she smiled her prettiest smile at him, which had the desired effect of drawing his attention from the envelope.
"Where shall we meet?" he asked as he surreptitiously put the letter in his inside jacket pocket, with a quick look to Carlisle to see he was not watching. "You'll stay at Raffertys, will you? I suppose you
could
go back to Levenhurst without danger."
"What do
you
think best, Colonel? You have more experience than I in these matters." He saw nothing amiss in this blatant flattery. There was even a touch of satisfaction about him. "Stay with the Raffertys," he decided. "It will not be pleasant, but it will be safe. I want you to be safe. I
did
promise Colonel Bradford to look after you, you know. Now that I have come to know you a little better, I find I would dislike it very much if anything were to happen to you."
He looked at her a long moment with a smile that it was difficult to read, but that she soon decided he regularly used to con women, as he had got it down so pat. She actually felt a flush of pleasure at his open admiration.
"Whatever you say," she answered meekly.
He cocked his head. "That's quite an about-face from your attitude last night."
"I did not quite trust you then," she reminded him.
“That was wise of you. To distrust
everyone,
I mean. A pity you had not saved some of your suspicion for Carlisle. Never mind. We'll take care of him." He reached out and squeezed her fingers. "Ready for the battle royal?" he asked. "We are about to come to serious cuffs, you and I, to give me an excuse to depart. I hope he doesn't find it too odd."
He arose abruptly to stand glaring down at her. In a loud, angry voice, he said, "I have been called a lot of things in my time, but this is too much!"
She blinked in surprise, and hastily considered some line to match this violent beginning. "Well, it's true!" she exclaimed sharply. "You
are
an impostor. Calling yourself a colonel one minute, and Mr. Kiley the next. You are a crook, sir, and so I tell you. If you pester me one moment longer, I shall call a constable."
He glowered over her, as though in a rage. "As to calling a constable, he might be interested in your
other
traveling companion, the gentleman who
calls
himself Mr. Carlisle." On this speech, he turned on his heel and departed the room.
This alteration in plans had to be explained to her companions, as soon as he was gone.
"Famous, Miss Bradford. You are up to anything!" Carlisle congratulated her. "Now we can proceed unhindered to Ipswich. Oh, this is much more exciting than going to a gaming hell with Edward Rafferty. I would not have missed it for anything. Gather up your diamonds, and let us be off."
She hastily considered developing a migraine and getting rid of Carlisle while she was about it. But he looked so perfectly innocent, smiling and speaking of Edward Rafferty in a way to make her think they were indeed old friends, that she took the quick decision to go on with him. His next speech confirmed her as to the rightness of her course.
"There's a back road that jogs toward Maldon—it is not so well surfaced as the other, but it cuts a few miles off the trip. We haven't gotten rid of Kiley that easily. He'll be skulking around Chelmsford, looking out for us. I don't doubt we'll arrive before him, as he is riding that wretched old nag from the inn. He's out in his luck if he thought to hire something better here. There isn't a piece of horseflesh to be had. I checked."
It was good to have a man to make these practical decisions in a way that was difficult for two inexperienced ladies. Vanessa would have wasted precious time poring over maps, and then probably have taken the wrong route. She was happy too to learn Kiley had not got a better mount.
"Let us go," she said, arising to place her hand on Mr. Carlisle's arm. Elleri did the same on his left arm, but he stopped them. "Hadn't one of us better pay the shot here?" he asked, laughing. "Innkeepers are so dreadfully commercial. They want to be paid for their services."
As he spoke, he pulled out his purse and called a servant, overriding all their polite objections. His every move was so polite and gentlemanly it was very hard to let any suspicion remain.
As the ladies joggled along a road noticeably inferior to the main road, they were agreed they had acted very wisely in the matter.
"And even if that nice Mr. Carlisle
does
turn out to be a rogue," Miss Simons declared, "I am sure
you
will handle him, minx, for you are up to all the rigs. I never knew what a cunning actress you were, till today."
Flushed with victory, Vanessa tended to agree. She had handled Kiley pretty well. It was not for a quarter of an hour that it occurred to her that if he were truly a spy, he would have that letter ripped open as soon as he was out of their sight. He would be back hounding them, but at least then she would know unequivocally that he was the enemy. If, on the other hand, he did
not
return, she had deprived herself of a real helper, the man sent to her by her father. Reconsidering the whole case against him, she conceded that his stories
could
be true. Her father
could
have sent him to her without giving him any identification; he
could
have talked Papa into sending the letter directly to London; he
could
even have had a French newspaper in his possession without being a French spy.
And if he were innocent, then Carlisle was likely guilty. Someone had knocked her out and searched her body for the letter. Was it possible she had placed herself undefended in the enemy's hands? She would soon know, as soon as Kiley caught up with them again. And if he had not done so by Chelmsford, then she would know Carlisle was the spy, and take whatever steps occurred to her. The remainder of the time was spent in conjuring with which "steps" to accomplish this end.
Chapter Nine
The morning passed in this troublesome fashion. The weather at least was good—bright and warm, and while the road was not so well surfaced as the main route, neither was there heavy traffic to slow them down, nor such an absolute lack of vehicles as to feel dangerously isolated. Carlisle had spoken of reaching Maldon for luncheon, but with an early start and a light breakfast, they were more than ready to take a break when they were still two miles short of the town.
"Just as well to stay away from the cities," Carlisle pointed out when he had pulled alongside their stopped carriage. "If Kiley takes into his head to come looking for us, he is less likely to find us at a small spot like this."
"Do you think he will do so?" Miss Simons asked.
"He isn't likely to give up on a diamond necklace only because Miss Bradford threatened to call a constable on him, is he?" he asked. "He is setting some trap probably. He thought we would be following shortly behind him. If we're lucky, he'll cool his heels at Chelmsford, waiting for us to come along."
This picture was amusing enough to set them all smiling as they descended to have their carriage and curricle stabled at the small roadside in. "We'll have a quick bite and be well north of Colchester before we stop for the night," Carlisle said, lending his arm to the ladies to mount the brick stairs to the doorway.
The small hostelry boasted no private dining room, but in such an out-of-the-way spot, and before the common lunch hour, there were no other customers. They ate cold meat and cheese, to save waiting for hot food. They were just finishing their coffee, prior to leaving, when the front door of the establishment opened.
Vanessa felt a churning of apprehension within her chest. She knew instinctively who it would be, knew now for a certainty he was the enemy. Within thirty seconds, Mr. Kiley's tall form loomed in the doorway of the dining room, his face a black scowl.
"A clever trick, miss, but you will have to get up earlier than six o'clock to fool
me!"
he said angrily.
She laid down her cup and regarded him with a calmness that taxed her acting ability. "I cannot imagine what you mean, sir. I threatened to call a constable if you did not leave me alone. I thought you had heeded my warning, but as you have not, I shall summon him here if you direct one more word to me."
"You don't get away that easily."
"Try if you can stop me," she answered. She pushed back her chair and arose majestically. Carlisle jumped to his feet in a belated effort to come to her assistance. Kiley looked as if he would like to say a deal more, but something held him back. She half wished he
would
do something to enable her to have him placed under arrest. Carlisle threw a bill on the table, and with an insolent stare at the intruder, ushered the ladies from the room.
Kiley sat down and ordered a tall glass of ale. When it arrived, he walked to the window and drank it there, watching to see which direction the party took. He frowned to see Carlisle stop to scribble a note and send it off with a stable boy.
"What is that you are doing, Mr. Carlisle?" Vanessa asked.
"I am sending a note to the constable in Maldon to take a tour along this road, just in case we have any trouble with Kiley," he explained.
"A wise precaution," Elleri Simons said. "He looked ready to kill us all."
As soon as they had left, Kiley was out the door after them, without waiting till he had eaten. He looked to see their direction, then sent for a fresh mount.
When the carriage and the curricle had taken the first bend in the road, Carlisle pulled ahead and signaled for them to stop. He alit and went to their door. "I have been thinking about what Kiley said, back at the inn. What did he mean, Miss Bradford, a clever trick?" he asked, with natural curiosity.
She was strongly tempted to tell him all her business, but remembered her father's warnings. "I suppose he refers to our change of route," she answered. "He must have been looking for us along the other road."
"He has plenty of brass to as much as tell you his plan," Carlisle answered, looking dissatisfied. He regarded Vanessa with a close scrutiny. "Are you sure you're being quite frank with me, ma'am?" he asked with a trace of diffidence. "Come now, can't you trust me? I know you come from Hastings, where your father, a colonel, is active in the defense against Napoleon's probable invasion. If you are engaged in some more important job than delivering diamonds, I think you ought to tell me."
"Oh," she said, distress on every line of her face, that he had hit upon her secret. She had never had to decide anything more important than what gown to wear, or what gentleman to stand up with at a ball. Her whole life had been sheltered, giving her no opportunity to become decisive. While she hesitated, he spoke on.
"I thought as much! I shan't pry. It is none of my concern, except to do what I can to see you make your trip safely. I
do
wish you had trusted me completely," he added with a little offended glance.
"I do," she assured him. "Truly I do, it is only that Papa said—said not to trust anyone, or tell anyone, you see."
"Is it a
verbal
message you carry?" he asked.
She looked at him, unable to suppress a little jab of suspicion at the question. "What I wish to discover is just how great a danger you are in," he pointed out. "If you carry some documents, that is one thing. You may be held up and robbed of them, but if you carry the message in your head—well, that is a different matter entirely, isn't it? A much more dangerous spot for you to be in, and greater precautions must be taken for your safety. I come to see this Kiley does not mean to give up."
"He can't do anything in broad daylight," she pointed out. "Let us get back on the main road at once, before he comes after us."
"The constable should be along shortly," Elleri reminded them.
"You haven't answered my question," he said. "You have trusted me this far. Tell me the rest, and let me decide what must be done to protect you and the message." He looked worried, and completely innocent, with his frank blue eyes and open face.