The Reluctant Duchess (29 page)

“I’m guessing he’ll want to get away as fast a
s possible, just in case the King’s Guard is after him, and the turnpikes are the fastest roads. In fact, he probably thinks that they’d never think him so blatant as to use main roads. Plus, 50,000 pounds in gems and precious metals is an awful lot of weight and bulk, they’ll need a cart for it and they go best on good roads.”

“That’s a lot of supposition. What if we’re wrong?”

“Then we just have to pray. The fact remains, I can’t just wait around here and hope a clue is dropped into my lap.”

Sampson nodded. “All right. You finish your coffee, I’ll get t
he horses saddled.”

Annabelle and Lavinia slept fitfully that night but the ringleader did at least bring them a couple of blankets, to help ward off the cold. When everything went quiet downstairs, they began discussing options for the next day in hushed whispers. If Frederick was collecting the ransom at noon, then he would be back here roughly six hours later and Annabelle and Lavinia would surely be dead soon after that.

Annabelle gave Lavinia
the flintlock revolver, since she had more experience with firearms but although they searched, they were unable to find a weapon that Annabelle could also wield. Hopefully there would be something downstairs that she could use but if not, she would just have to fight with everything she had.

The thought of fighting these thugs terrified her
, but the thought of not seeing Richard again was even more frightening.

If they could, they decided to attack before the others returned
, as that meant there were only four kidnappers in the house. Sampson’s revolver had seven bullets but the fewer they faced, the more chances they had to hit their target.

They decided to attack early on, shortly after dawn when it would be least expected. Annabelle called through the door that they needed the bathroom (which wasn’t a lie) but although they weren’t tied up
, all four kidnappers went with them as they were taken to the outhouse.

Annabelle
went first and then Lavinia went into the small outhouse. They had decided beforehand that Lavinia would shoot once Annabelle created a distraction.

Annabelle
’s arm was held by one of the kidnappers but not too firmly. When she thought the time was right, she elbowed her captor in the face, by some lucky chance breaking his nose, then she grabbed his bayonet and ran towards the woods.

She heard footsteps running after her, then three gunshots. Someone grabbed her waist and pulled her to the ground and she turned in time to see Lavinia fire another t
wo shots, ducking behind the outhouse for cover from the retaliating fire. Aside from the one currently holding her, the other three all surrounded Lavinia. Two of them raised their guns.

“No mortal wounds!” the ringleader yelled,
who seemed to be nursing a shot wound. “We need them alive, at least for a little while longer.”

Annabelle
fought against her own attacker and managed to knee him in the groin, incapacitating him for a moment. His bayonet used a flint lock action, which Lavinia had explained how to use last night. Annabelle aimed the barrel of the bayonet at the group of three, pulled the hammer back, then pulled the trigger to release it; the flint scraped against the frizzen, sending sparks into the pan, which ignited the gunpowder and fired the bullet. The explosion was larger than she expected and the gunpowder burnt her hand a little but unfortunately, the shot missed. Seconds later, she was barrelled off her feet a second time and cried out as she landed painfully on her side.

“Come out Lavinia, or Annabelle gets it!” the ringleader said, turning to aim his gun at her.

Annabelle tried to yell ‘no!’ but as she drew breath to inhale, her left side ignited in pain and she only ended up gasping.

“All right,” Lavinia called after only a moment’s hesitation. She threw the gun towards them then came out, her arms raised
in surrender.

Annabelle was roughly dragged to her feet and over to them, her side throbbing in pain with every jolt.
She saw the ringleader raise his hand to strike Lavinia, who refused to flinch.

“It was my idea!” Annabelle called
, as loudly as she could given the pain in her side.

The leader
hesitated but he still looked furious enough to kill them both.

Now that she was
closer, Annabelle could see that whilst Lavinia hadn’t managed to kill any of these men, her shots seemed to have met their targets. The leader was bleeding from his left shoulder, the man beside him was bleeding from his thigh, and possibly a hand too, but it could be transferred blood. The third had a lot of blood all over his shirt but Annabelle couldn’t see where the wound might be. Only the man who held her looked to have escaped injury, aside from his broken nose and, she suspected, a throbbing groin.

The ringleader strode up to her and despite his venomous look, the fist to her gut took her by surprise.
Added to the injury to her ribs, she nearly passed out from the pain and was unable to stay upright.

“Get them inside and tie them both up, hands and feet!”

From her vantage point on the ground, Annabelle watched as the kidnapper with the blood-soaked shirt passed out. The one with the bullet in his thigh pushed Lavinia inside with the barrel of his gun at her back and the least injured one picked Annabelle up in his arms, probably guessing that she was in too much pain to walk right now. She looked back to see the leader kicking the fallen man but he didn’t react. She looked forward to see the one with Lavinia limping badly, putting almost no weight on to his injured leg.

So that was one
down, possibly dead and two badly injured. If she hadn’t been in so much pain herself, she might have tried fighting again but she was having trouble just breathing, let alone trying to brawl.

Thankfully, Lavinia looked
unhurt.

The
men were none too gentle with them and although the one who carried Annabelle in had a good grope whilst she was unable to fight back, he soon left to help his injured friend downstairs.

“Well, so much for that plan.” Annabelle said through clenched teeth.

“We did better than I expected,” Lavinia tried to cheer her up. “When we’re rescued, at least two of them will be useless in a fight.

“
If
we’re rescued; they have to find us first,” Annabelle added.

“Don’t lose hope yet, dear, the time to panic is still hours away.”

As
Frederickrick rode his horse forward towards the messenger, he didn’t think that he had ever felt so nervous. This section of the heath was fairly barren, so he could see for quite a way around himself and there didn’t appear to be anyone with the messenger and wagon.

The two men that Old John had sent with him were hiding behind some bushes, ready to protect him if anything untoward happened. He rode his horse until he was about fifty paces
away, then dismounted and chased the horse away with his whip, so the messenger would have to walk back, giving Frederick a greater lead.

The messenger
got down from the cart with his hands raised in surrender, and backed away as Frederick approached.

“Is it all here?”
Frederick asked, looking at the trunks in the wagon.

“F-far as I know.” The messenger stuttered.

Frederickrick opened a trunk and saw it filled with gold goblets and platters. He opened a smaller bag and saw it was filled with jewellery.

“Good enough.” He climbed onto the wagon’s perch and urged the horses on.

As he approached the bushes where the others were waiting, he almost couldn’t believe that it had been so easy! Why hadn’t he thought of ransom earlier as a means of raising money? This was child’s play.

The others took a quick look in the trunks, threw some blankets over them as a disguise, then mounted their horses and rode behind him.

Frederick hadn’t felt like eating this morning as he was too nervous but now he felt positively ravenous. He slowed his cart until the others pulled level.

“I don’t know about you chaps but I’m starving, what do you say we stop at the next coaching inn and get some lunch?”

“Can’t leave the wagon.” B said. He was generally the grumpier of the two fellows.

“Oh come on, I’m starving!”

The nicer of his companions, H, indicated for them to pull behind so they could chat. He didn’t know why he couldn’t know these men’s names but Old John always referred to them by letters, never names.

Frederick
looked back occasionally and almost always found them looking at him. He didn’t like the look in B’s eyes.

“Everyone
deserves a last meal,” H argued with his friend.

“Not him!”

“Even him. Come on, what harm can it do? We’ll stay with the cart and he can bring us sandwiches out or something.”

B didn’t look convinced.

“Plus, if we let him eat and drink all he wants, he’ll be much more compliant when we do him in.”

That convinced B. “All right, but we both stay with the wagon at all times.”

“Agreed.” H sped up to deliver the good news to Frederick, who grinned and urged the cart horses to go faster.

“We must have missed them,” Richard said as he looked out of the tollhouse window. They were about 15 miles from Hounslow Heath and it was now almost three p.m. “Even a lame horse could have got here by now.”

“Let’s just give it
a little longer,” Sampson advised.

Isaac was a mile or so down the road, at the crossroads where the north road met with this lower road, pretending to check his horse’s hooves whenever anyone passed. If he saw
Frederick, he would take note of the direction he took and could gallop back here in under two minutes.

Their horses were saddled and ready to go, tethered in the back of the tollhouse, out of sight from the road.

“Cart!” called the toll keeper from the bay window, where he was able to observe the road. He had been kind enough to call out all approaching carts, wagons and coaches since they arrived. He went out to collect his toll and lower the tollgate, giving Richard and Sampson the opportunity to peer out at the road from behind the kitchen curtains.

“It’s him!” Richard hissed.

“He looks a bit worse for wear,” Sampson noted from the exaggerated way he was laughing with the toll guard, who wasn’t laughing in return.

“Hmm, but who are those men with him.”

“You sure they’re with him?” Sampson asked. “They’re paying separately.”

“They’re with him,” Richard sounded sure. “Maybe Old
John didn’t trust Frederick and sent his men along too.”

“Makes sense, I don’t even know him and I wouldn’t trust him.”

“All right, let’s get the horses.” Richard started towards the back door but Sampson grabbed his arm.

“We have to lag behind or we’ll spook them.”

“I know,” Richard sighed. It was clear that he didn’t want to. Now that he had them within his sights, he wanted to beat the location out of Frederick.

“At least it’s three on three, so our numbers are
evenly matched.”

Richard nodded and at a much more sedate pace, headed out to the rear of the tollhouse, leaving a five shilling tip
on the counter for the tollhouse guard.

Sampson was dressed in Richard’s finery and top hat,
whilst Richard was dressed as a steward, complete with a cloth cap to make him less recognisable. Isaac was dressed as he usually was, much like a tradesman.

Knowing that he couldn’t
hold him back for much longer, Sampson let Richard go first. He was impatient but he wasn’t foolish and would never do anything to risk Annabelle and Lavinia.

As soon as he was out on the road, Richard took out a telescope he had discovered at
Frederick’s home and looked ahead. It had a magnification of around 15, so he could easily keep them in view whilst to them, he was just a dot on the horizon.

He allowed himself to fall further behind, knowing that the road ahead was relatively straight and flat for
a while. He was oddly thankful that the south of England isn’t known for its hills, because he was sure that following them like this wouldn’t be possible in a landscape such as the Peak District or the Highlands.

He soon
came upon Isaac, who mounted his horse. They walked side by side, as Richard brought Isaac up to speed on the little that he and Sampson had learned. Isaac agreed that Frederick was drunk and had even seen Frederick sip from a hip flask as he passed. He also agreed that the other riders were with Frederick and that they had observed him closely, whilst Frederick had seemed almost oblivious to him.

Isaac fell back then, to walk with Sampson until it was time for a change. It had been agreed that every thirty minutes, one of the pair behind would canter ahead and replace the front horse
and rider, just so it wasn’t obvious that the same person was always behind, and it seemed as though they were turning off the road and new people were replacing them.