‘The Dark Rider,' muttered the coachman. ‘I thought we was safe from 'im this far west.'
‘Ah, well, now, it's mistaken you were, but just you keep still up there and you'll be safe enough.' The horseman rode closer, grinning at the angry red face glaring at him from inside the carriage.
‘Well, get on with it, you scoundrel. What do you want?'
‘To parley, Mr Weston. Will ye not step into the trees with me? Your men can busy themselves clearing the path while we talk.'
‘Parley?' roared the magistrate. ‘I have nothing to say to you, sirrah.'
‘Have ye not? After you moved that precious marble bust into the window yesterday, an' all.'
Phineas stared at him in silence for a long moment.
‘Oh, so you are the blackguard who sent me that note, are you? Very well, I suppose we must talk.' He climbed down from the coach, cursing as he sank ankle deep into the snow, completely swamping his buckled shoes.
‘Come over here where we'll not be overheard,' the masked man ordered, dismounting. ‘And tell yer lackeys not to think o' followin' us. I'll put a bullet through the first one to try.'
Through the slits of his mask Ross watched as Phineas Weston approached, stepping gingerly through the snow, grumbling all the time.
‘Damned inconvenient place to meet.'
‘Sure, and you'd prefer an inn, I suppose,' replied Ross cheerfully. ‘Where you could set a trap for me.'
‘Well, what do you want?'
‘You know what I want. Payment for the safe return of your daughter.'
‘And if I refuse?'
‘Ye'd be foolish to do that, Mr Weston.'
Phineas gave a harsh laugh.
‘Why? What interest do I have in that daughter of Satan?'
The viciousness of the reply surprised Ross, but he said merely, ‘Why, man, she's yer own flesh and blood. And a damned fine actress, too.'
‘Damned fine whore more like,' snarled Weston, his callous words making Ross long to strike him. ‘No, you keep her, sir, with my compliments.'
Ross caught his breath. Was Charity right after all? Did this man have no paternal feelings whatsoever? He pretended to consider the matter.
‘Mebbe I will keep her. She's a handsome wench and would warm my bed at night. But what happens when I make it known that you turned yer back on her? Your own daughter.'
‘Who's to say she is my daughter? I have never owned it.'
Ross shook his head.
‘Tush now, are you denying all those rumours? And you, such a God-fearing Christian. There's many will be shocked to hear of it, I'm sure. Ah, well, if that's the way it is, we've nothing else to say to each other-'
‘Wait.' Phineas frowned and began to pace up and down. ‘You are right, damn you. She has built up a following for herself. I hear they come from as far afield as York to see her. It would ruin my reputation if 'twas known I'd refused to help, for all the girl's a damned nuisance.' He stopped and shot a fierce glaring look at Ross. ‘So what's your price?'
‘Two thousand guineas.'
‘What? Out of the question.'
‘Fustian,' retorted Ross. ‘You paid as much for that little filly you had running at York races last year.'
Phineas shook his head. ‘No, it's too much. After all, I have no interest in the jade. I'll not acknowledge her, whatever the rumours. She's a disgrace to me, to my name. An abomination.'
‘She's your daughter.'
Phineas gave a savage laugh. ‘She's the devil's spawn, flaunting herself in public as she does. No, sir, "if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out". Do away with her, with my blessing.'
‘Holy Mother, but it's an unnatural father you are!' exclaimed Ross, forcing himself to laugh. ‘But if that's your final word, we'll see what her friends at the theatre will pay-'
He whistled for Robin to come to him, but through the slits of the mask he was watching Phineas, who was scowling and rubbing his chin.
‘No, wait,' said the magistrate, an arrested look in his eye. ‘Perhaps you are God's instrument in this,' he mused, ‘sent to rid me of this troublesome wench.' He straightened and looked at Ross. ‘Very well, I will give you two thousand guineas. Only I don't want her alive.'
Ross clenched his jaw to prevent an exclamation of abhorrence.
‘Go on.'
Phineas's eyes were gleaming. He continued in a conspiratorial manner, ‘Get her to write me another letter-I presume she did pen the last one? I wouldn't recognise her hand, but no doubt her friends in the theatre would do so and we must make it credible. Put in your demands. I'll agree to pay you the two thousand guineas, but then there must be some sort of...accident. Leave the body on the Beringham side of the county border and I will make sure the perpetrator of this heinous crime is never discovered.'
Ross felt the bile rising in his throat and he could not prevent his mouth twisting in a way that Phineas rightly interpreted as repugnance. The magistrate's own lip curled.
‘Why so squeamish, man? What difference is it to you what happens to her? She is a beauty, I'll grant you that, so do with her as you wish while we play out this charade, but you'll not get a penny from me if she remains alive.'
Ross forced another laugh. ‘By our Lady, 'tis an ingenious plan you've thought up there. But how d'you square it with your conscience, being a preacher man, an' all?'
‘The Lord is a vengeful and an angry God, and some souls are too far sunk into wickedness to be saved.' Phineas raised his arms and cried to the sky, ‘"O daughter of Babylon, who are to be destroyed!"' He brought his savage gaze back to Ross. ‘My daughter proved herself past praying for when she defied me and ran away thirteen years ago. I cast her off then, but now she has come back to mock me. Her presence in Allingford is a constant taunt, an affront to God. In you He has shown me a way to do His justice. So do we have a bargain?'
Ross shrugged.
‘Why not?' He swung himself into the saddle. ‘I'll contact you shortly to let you know where to leave the money.'
‘Remember,' said Phineas, ‘there will be no payment if she lives.'
With a final nod Ross turned his horse and rode away.
That had not gone the way he had intended. Not at all.
* * *
Charity awoke to a feeling of foreboding. No one had knocked and called her down to breakfast. She dressed quickly and tried the door. It was not locked, so she dragged a shawl around her shoulders and made her way through the unheated passages to the kitchen. The house had an empty, hollow feel to it; no one answered her call. When she saw Jed in the yard she went out to speak to him. Samson was at the door and barked as she stepped outside, but he did not prevent her from following Jed into the stables.
‘Where is Mr Durden?'
‘He ain't come home yet, ma'am.'
She spotted the tin of blacking on the bench beside Robin's empty stall.
‘Is he- Has he gone out as the Dark Rider?'
Jed nodded. ‘Set off before dawn, he did. Said he knew Weston had business that would mean 'im putting up in York last night and was going to catch 'im on the way home.'
Charity put her hands to her cheeks. She recalled Ross telling her that Phineas always travelled with an armed guard. What if he had been wounded, or worse? He might even now be languishing in York gaol. Or he might have succeeded and negotiated her release. The thought was even more chilling. How much would Phineas be willing to pay, and what would he demand from her in return?
‘Don't you be worryin' about the master,' said Jed, misinterpreting her anxiety. ‘He'll be back soon enough.'
‘I wasn't worrying about Mr Durden.' At least, not much.
Jed frowned. ‘I hope you ain't planning to run off again, ma'am, 'cos I have orders....'
Charity thought of the snow, still knee-deep all around the house.
‘No, I have learned my lesson there. I shall wait indoors for Mr Durden's return.'
With a nod she went back to the house. The fire in the kitchen was burning well, so she made coffee for herself, then rummaged in the larder for something to eat.
Once she had broken her fast she felt a little better, and the future did not seem quite so bleak. If Ross had succeeded, she hoped she could persuade him to take her back to the theatre. She would be safe there, at least until she could make her plans and disappear again. It was not ideal, but she was determined she would not allow herself to fall into Phineas's clutches.
* * *
The hall clock was striking midday when Ross at last came in. Charity was reading in the kitchen, her chair pulled close to the range for warmth. She jumped when the door opened.