At the Highwayman's Pleasure(24)

Something flared in his dark eyes, a sudden gleam that affected her  like a lightning bolt running through her, from her head right down to  her toes. She was shockingly aware of him, conscious of the fact that  they were alone in the room-in the house. They were so close that the  slightest movement would bring their bodies together and that would  ignite a fire in her that could not be controlled.

Quickly Charity stepped back, crossing her arms, not so much in defence  but to stop herself reaching out to him. She dragged her eyes away from  his face, embarrassed lest he should think she was trying to buy her  freedom by offering herself to him.

He cleared his throat.

‘I am sorry if you dislike being locked up-'

‘It is not that, it is the idleness-I am so bored! I will not run away,  you have my word I will not step outside the door, but please, let me  move freely about the house.'

She bowed her head, ashamed of her weakness. She hated to appear so  feeble. Yes, that was it-she felt powerless. No doubt that was the  reason her body reacted so violently whenever Ross was near. He exuded  strength and it drew her to him. If only she had a little more freedom, a  little more to do each day, she would be better able to combat this  dangerous attraction. However, a quick peep up at him showed that he was  frowning, his countenance so forbidding that her spirits sank. Sighing,  she was about to turn away when he spoke at last.

‘Very well, if you give me your word that you will not leave the  building. Jed is working around the house today and I shall leave Samson  outside; he will soon give voice if he sees you.'

‘Oh, thank you.' Her smile of relief only earned her another black frown.

‘Do not try any of your tricks, madam. I shall leave orders with Jed  that if you try to escape he is to bring you back and lock you in the  cellar. And do not be fooled by his slight appearance, he is as strong  as whip leather and will not hesitate to use force if it is required.'

* * *

His warning was unnecessary. Charity had decided against trying to  escape again while the snow lay so deep on the ground. Instead, once she  was alone, she set off to explore the house. She was well acquainted  with the kitchen and the small chamber that had been allotted to her,  but she was curious to see the other rooms. Despite the overcast sky,  the snow reflected a considerable amount of light into the hall and for  the first time she could appreciate the elaborate carving on the  staircase and the panelled walls. There was a large drawing room on one  side of the hall with a bay window overlooking the drive. A spinet stood  in one corner, but when she tried it the keys stuck, swollen by the  damp. Behind the drawing room was a smaller parlour that had at some  time been decorated as a lady's sitting room, and on the other side of  the hall was the dining room and Ross's study with its mahogany desk,  where she had written the letters he had dictated to her. The rooms were  handsome and well appointed and she noted that they bore evidence of  having been regularly dusted, but there was an air of neglect about the  place. Apart from the study, none of the other rooms appeared to have  been used for many years.

Upstairs was much the same. Most of the chambers were empty or used to  store unwanted furniture. She found a suite of rooms at one end of the  building that she guessed were used by the housekeeper, Mrs Cummings,  and the well-oiled door next to her own chamber led to the master  bedroom. She hesitated, feeling very much like an intruder, but  curiosity overcame her and she stepped into the room, reasoning that if  Ross had not wanted her to enter he could easily have locked the door.

It was an elegant apartment with panelled walls and elaborate  plasterwork to equal that of the reception rooms downstairs. A large bed  stood opposite the windows, the bedcovers straightened, pillows plumped  up and its scarlet hangings tied back. A large trunk stood in one  corner of the room with a folded velvet jacket lying on its domed lid,  and on the top of a bow-fronted chest of drawers a set of silver-backed  brushes was laid out with mathematical precision. Shipshape. Even if she  had not been told that Ross had been a naval officer, she would have  guessed it from the neatness of this room. She walked over to the  washstand. The bowl was clean and hanging from a rail at the side was a  towel and razor strop. The razor itself was sitting on the edge of the  washstand and she picked it up, pulling the shiny blade out of the ivory  handle.                       
       
           



       

She remembered Ross refusing to let her have the bread knife. Here was a  much more fearsome weapon, should she want it. However, she disliked  violence and just the thought of it made her shudder. Quickly she closed  up the razor and put it back on the washstand, then stood for a moment  looking down at it, thinking again that Ross was an odd villain to allow  her to roam freely through his house. Or perhaps he knew that such  kindness would keep her there more surely than any chains. She left the  room, closing the door carefully behind her. She would finish exploring  and find something useful to do with the rest of the day.

* * *

When at last she made her way back to the kitchen she found Jed there.  He looked up when he heard her and tugged at his forelock.

‘I came in fer a bit o' that bread the master bought...'

‘Please, help yourself,' she said. ‘I am sorry-do you normally eat in here? I am intruding in your domain.'

‘Nay, missus, I prefers to bait in th' stable, 'specially when the cap'n's got guests.'

A wry smile curled her lips. ‘I am not really a guest, Jed.' The old  man looked uncomfortable and Charity gave him her most charming smile,  trying to put him at his ease. ‘There is some soup on the fire. I left  it warming through in case Mr Durden returned early. However, he has not  come, so perhaps you would like to have it?' She gestured to the table.  ‘Please, do sit here and eat it. I should be glad of the company.'

Jed needed very little persuasion to stay in the warm kitchen, and  Charity put a steaming bowl of soup before him. Cutting him a slice of  bread took her thoughts back to the master of the house, and she asked  if he had known Mister Durden long.

‘All 'is life,' he replied between spoonfuls of soup. ‘I came to Wheelston as a lad and worked here ever since.'

‘I thought all the servants were given notice when Mrs Durden was ill.'

‘Aye, all t'others were turned off, but I stayed on, despite that hell-hag-'

‘Jed!'

‘Not the mistress,' he explained hurriedly, seeing Charity's shocked  face. ‘That vixen 'as called herself companion. She let me stay on in  the stables, doin' odd jobs. But I knowed what she was up to, despite  'er false smiles an' cheatin' ways. Bamboozled the old leddy right and  proper, she did.' He scowled. ‘And the master. I were the only one left  when the cap'n came home, after the mistress had died. Nowhere else to  go, see, and I didn't want no wages.'

‘But Mr Durden pays you now?'

‘Oh, aye. Insisted on paying me back wages, too, which he needn't have done, but he's not one to do a man down.'

‘He is a thief, Jed,' she said quietly. ‘A highway robber.'

‘Not he,' came the confident reply.

‘But he is,' Charity insisted, leaning her hands on the table. ‘I have  seen it for myself. I was in one of the coaches he held up.'

‘And what did he tek?' demanded the old man, fixing his bright, bird-like eyes upon her. ‘Money? Jewels?'

She thought of the brooch he had returned to her, and the stolen kisses.

‘The mailbag,' she said at last. ‘He took the mailbag.'

‘And left it at the roadside to be discovered the next day.'

‘I do not know about that-'

‘Well, I do. Cap'n Durden is as honest as the day. If he hadn't been-'  He broke off, fastening his lips together as if to hold in secrets.

‘Yes, Jed? What were you going to say?'

‘Nowt. If you wants to know about t'master, then you must ask'n  theesen.' He rose. ‘Thank'ee for the bait, ma'am. Now, if ye'll excuse  me, I'll get back to the yard.'

It was clear she had offended him and he would say no more, but what he  had told her intrigued Charity. Ross Durden was in need of money, she  knew that, so she could understand him turning to highway robbery, but  why would he risk his life holding up mail coaches if he took nothing  from them? His taciturn nature made it unlikely that he would ever tell  her, yet he had granted her the liberty to roam about the old house, and  that raised her spirits enough to think she might yet charm a little  information from him.

* * *

The sun was setting by the time Ross reached Wheelston, and the  temperature was dropping rapidly. His eyes scanned the surrounding  fields, checking the vast expanse of smooth, white snow for footprints.  He hoped that Charity had not made any attempt to run off. With Samson  and Jed outside he doubted she would have got far, but it was more than  that. She had given her word, and he was surprised how much he wanted to  believe that he could trust her.