A Very Special Love Read online

  “There must be something we can do.”

  “That is what I have been telling myself, my Lord,” Mr. Barrett replied. “Maybe it would be possible to hire a detective, or several of them, whom we could swear to secrecy.”

  “We will inevitably sooner or later have to call in the Police,” the Marquis replied, “and I have no wish to do so until Zia is safely home.”

  The way he spoke made Mr. Barrett fully aware that the Marquis was thinking that, if the Police threatened Proteus, he might in desperation, or perhaps revenge, kill his captive.

  There was silence again and, surprised at himself for doing so, the Marquis was actually praying that by some miracle he could gain some idea of where Zia might have been taken.

  The door opened and the butler walked in,

  “There’s a man here, my Lord, from The Unicorn, says his name’s Winton and he wishes to see your Lordship and I thinks, although I may be wrong, it concerns Miss Zia.”

  The Marquis turned round quickly.

  “Winton!” he exclaimed. “Send him in!”

  As he waited, he looked at Mr. Barrett, although neither of them spoke.

  The Marquis was thinking that it was impossible that Winton could know anything.

  His instructions after he had left The Unicorn were for it to proceed to Greenwich, where they were to wait until he required the yacht again.

  It seemed to him a long time, although it was actually only two or three minutes before Winton, who had called at the kitchen door, came into the study.

  He was in uniform and was holding his cap in his hand.

  He was looking somewhat over-awed until he saw the Marquis and then there was a grin on his face as he said,

  “Good-day, my Lord.”

  “I understand you have something to tell me,” the Marquis said as if he could not waste any time.

  “I have, my Lord.” Winton replied. “And it be about Miss Langley.”

  The Marquis drew in his breath.

  He walked to his desk and indicated a chair on the other side of it before he said,

  “Sit down and tell me everything you know.”

  “Well, it’s like this, my Lord,” Winton replied, sitting on the edge of his chair. “After your Lordship left us, we moved The Unicorn a little way down river as the Captain needed some vittles and so he sends ashore for them. We also needed some paint, as your Lordship’ll remember, to touch up the yacht where it was marked on the starboard side.”

  “Yes, I remember,” the Marquis murmured impatiently.

  Only by a tremendous effort at self-control did he force himself not to shout at Winton to get to the point.

  “Well, I was on deck, my Lord,” Winton went on, “seein’ them urchins as was playin’ about didn’t make a nuisance of themselves on the bank when a little way down river I spots a man I’d seen afore.”

  “Who was it?” the Marquis asked. “And where had you seen him?”

  “At the Convent, my Lord, the one you took me to.”

  “You are sure that is where you saw him?”

  “Yes, my Lord. I sees him there lookin’ out of the window at me and I noticed him particular-like, because he had a scar on his forehead, runnin’ down into his eyebrow it was.”

  “Yes, yes!” the Marquis said. “His name is ‘Saul’.”

  “I sees him again,” Winton went on, “when he runs out of the gate as we were leavin’ with Miss Langley and your Lordship tells me to fire the pistol over their heads.”

  Winton paused for breath and the Marquis asked,

  “And you saw him again today on the river?”

  “Yes, my Lord. Him and another man was climbin’ into a boat as was bein’ rowed by two others.”

  “A boat!” the Marquis exclaimed.

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  “And they were alone?”

  “No, my Lord. They had a woman with them. I couldn’t see her clearly, not then, but – ”

  “Go on!” the Marquis urged him again.

  “Because I were curious, my Lord, I leaves Harper – you knows Harper, my Lord?”

  “Yes, yes,” the Marquis answered. “Go on with what you were saying.”

  “I walks down to see where they was a-goin’ and, as they gets into midstream, I then recognises the lady as is with them. It were Miss Langley, my Lord!”

  “You are quite sure?” Mr. Barrett enquired as if he could keep silent no longer.

  Winton turned towards Mr. Barrett.

  “Yes, sir, I were quite sure it be Miss Langley. She had no hat on her head so I could see her quite clear-like.”

  “You watched them?” the Marquis asked. “Where did they go?”

  “They goes straight across the river, my Lord, and downstream for a short way and then into a houseboat.”

  “You are quite certain it was a houseboat, Winton?”

  “Oh, yes, my Lord, and there was only one at that particular point on the Thames, lyin’ by some bushes and a pretty tumbledown affair it be and all, needin’ paint. Not the sort of boat as your Lordship’d give a second glance to!”

  “A houseboat!” the Marquis exclaimed. “And that is where Miss Langley is now?”

  “They takes her ashore, my Lord, and I were certain after that they takes her aboard the houseboat.”

  The Marquis put his hand to his head as if it helped him to think more clearly.

  “You have done me a great service, Winton, and you will be amply rewarded. “Now I want you to have something to eat while I talk to Mr. Barrett and decide how we will rescue Miss Langley.”

  As he rose to his feet, Winton rose too and then he said,

  “You’ll let me in on it, my Lord? You knows I can be trusted with a pistol – ”

  “I promise you shall be in on it,” the Marquis assured him. “Just give me time to work out my plan of campaign.”

  Mr. Barrett had already rung the bell for him and the door opened almost immediately.

  “See that Winton is given something substantial to eat,” the Marquis said to the butler, “and I will send for him a little later.”

  “Very good, my Lord.”

  The Marquis did not say anything more until Winton had left the room.

  He was telling himself that, quite incredibly, his prayer had been answered and by a miracle he now knew where Zia was.

  *

  Zia was very afraid.

  She had been terrified when the carriage had driven away with her from the Emporium and she knew at once that she had been captured by Father Proteus’s men.

  She tried to think of some way that she could throw herself out of the carriage.

  But the horses were travelling as fast as they could in the traffic and she was certain that, if she did try to get out, she would fall under the wheels.

  Even if she was not injured, Saul would catch her before she could run away and he might then hit her as he had just hit Martha.

  Sitting on the back seat and supporting herself because they were travelling so fast, she thought how stupid she had been to go shopping with Martha without taking anybody with them.

  Then she thought that even if the housekeeper or a maid had come with them, they would have been powerless to prevent her from being kidnapped.

  In some frightening manner the Marquis’s coachman and footman had been disposed of and Saul and another of Father Proteus’s men were now driving the carriage.

  She sat trembling, realising that they had now left the shops behind and were entering a poorer and dirtier part of the City.

  She caught a sudden glimpse of water and realised that the River Thames was just ahead of them.

  Then she had the terrifying feeling that Father Proteus was going to take her away in a ship to a foreign country.

  If he did, she knew that no one would ever find her again, not even the Marquis.

  As she thought of him, her whole being cried out towards him to save her.

  He had saved her once and she remembered how ex
citing it had been as he had driven her away from the Convent and she had thought joyously that she was rid of the evil Father Proteus forever.

  At the back of her mind she had always been afraid that she would never be able to escape from the Convent and Father Proteus.

  Now she was back in his clutches and she knew that he would never be satisfied until he had control of, if not all her money, then a great deal of it.

  ‘What can I do?’ she asked herself desperately.

  Then she was praying to the Marquis to come once again to her rescue.

  ‘Save – me! Save – me,’ she cried in her heart, ‘as – only – you can do!’

  The carriage came to a standstill and she realised that they were on a road that bordered a river and it must be the River Thames.

  She wondered if she jumped out and threw herself into the Thames whether she would be able to escape.

  She could swim because her father had taught her, but she knew that it would be very difficult in the full-skirted gown she was wearing.

  She was more likely to sink and be drowned.

  The door of the carriage was then pulled open and Saul was leering at her with an evil expression in his eyes under the scar that disfigured his forehead.

  “Come on!” he ordered. “You’ve ’ad a nice ride and now we’re takin’ you on the water!”

  Zia realised that it was no use arguing with him.

  As he spoke, he was pulling off the livery coat that he had taken from the Marquis’s servants and he flung it into the carriage.

  The coachman, whom she recognised as a man who had been at the Convent and who was called ‘Mark’, threw his after it.

  Then the two men in their shirtsleeves each took one of her arms and marched her down to the water’s edge.

  As they did so, she heard the carriage drive away and hoped that whoever had taken it would be kind to the Marquis’s fine horses.

  Then she saw below her that there was a rowing boat in which the other two men who had been at the Convent were waiting.

  “’Ere she be now,” Saul called out to them. “And a good deal more fancy to look at than when we last sees ’er!”

  He pushed Zia into the boat and then the two men who were already in it started to row across the river.

  There was a strong current and Zia wondered if they would be swept away and whether if the boat capsized perhaps she would have a chance of running away from them.

  With a great deal of puffing and blowing they managed to reach calmer waters and she saw ahead of them what appeared to be a very dilapidated houseboat.

  It was moored to a rough bank and at first she could not believe that this was their destination.

  Then, as they pulled the boat to the bank and dragged her out onto the rough ground, she knew that this improbable hiding place was where she was to be imprisoned.

  For a moment she thought of screaming and shouting and making one desperate dash for freedom.

  Then, as she gazed at the hard unbuilt-on ground that the houseboat was moored against, she saw that this was a lonely spot where there were no wharfs and in consequence very few people.

  If she screamed as loud as she could, who would hear her?

  If anyone did, who was likely to confront Saul and Mark and the other two men who looked as tough and pugnacious as they did?

  But she had, as it happened, little time for thought.

  The men pulled her up the rickety gangplank and onto the deck, taking her through a dilapidated door into what she supposed was the Saloon.

  Sitting in an armchair, his leg in a splint, was Father Proteus, a bottle of brandy beside him.

  At the sight of him, Zia felt herself shiver.

  She could see as she looked at him how furious he was that she had escaped.

  “’Ere she be!” Saul said brightly.

  “You’ve been a devil of a long time!” Father Proteus complained. “Does anyone know you’ve brought her here?”

  “Not unless they’re birds in the sky!” Saul replied. “And Dixon’s taken off the ’orses.”

  “What has he done with them?” Father Proteus asked.

  “’E’ll sell ’em soon as ’e gets the chance and put the carriage in a scrapyard.”

  Zia closed her eyes.

  She thought of how the Marquis would mind his horses, which he was so proud of, being sold to some buyer who might overwork them or worse still be cruel to them.

  Then, as Father Proteus’s eyes were on her, she could only think of herself.

  “A fine dance you’ve led me, my girl!” he began as he glared at her. “But you’ll pay for it, just as you’ll pay for that damnable Guardian of yours cracking up my leg!”

  He shouted the words at her.

  Then, as if he hated the very sight of her, he ordered,

  “Take her below and lock her in. Take away her gown and shoes just in case she tries to escape.”

  “She won’t be able to do that!” Saul smirked.

  He was laughing at the idea and Zia knew that he was gloating over the fact that she was helpless and there was nothing she could do about it.

  He had seized Zia by the arm, digging his fingers into the softness of her skin.

  “Now listen,” Father Proteus said as if a sudden thought struck him, “you are going to write a letter to your Guardian telling him that, unless he pays every penny I ask of him, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”

  With an effort Zia managed to respond defiantly,

  “If you kill me as you killed that other girl at the Convert, you will be hanged!”

  Father Proteus laughed and it was a very unpleasant sound.

  “Do you suppose I am as stupid as you are?” he asked. “If we put you in the Thames and hold your head down, you’ll float away on the tide and be many miles from here before somebody pulls your dead limp body out of the water.”

  The way he spoke made Zia feel as if she must scream and go on screaming, but with a superhuman effort she pressed her lips together and said nothing.

  “Take her away!” Father Proteus ordered. “It makes me sick to look at her!”

  Saul dragged Zia towards the door and Father Proteus roared,

  “Mark, bring another bottle of brandy! This damned leg is hurting like all the fires of Satan!”

  Saul pulled Zia down the companionway, where the steps were cracked and broken, to the lower deck of the houseboat.

  There was a passage with several doors opening out of it that she could see were cabins.

  He took her to one near the stern that looked out onto the river.

  She knew it was because he had no intention of letting her think that she might climb through a porthole onto dry land.

  He stood for a moment looking round the very small cabin.

  As if he wanted to hurt her, he gave her a push in the middle of her back that sent her sprawling onto a narrow iron bedstead that stood in the centre of the cabin.

  “Now you behave yourself,” be warned, “or I promise you, you’ll suffer worse than ‘his Nibs’ be!”

  It was a threat that instinctively made Zia cringe away from him.

  He laughed and it was a harsh sound that seemed to echo round the small cabin and then he left.

  She heard him close the door behind him and lock it and she had the idea that it was a new lock that had been specially put there to keep her from escaping.

  Just as she thought that she was rid of him, she heard the key turn again and he came back.

  “You ’eard what the old man said,” he leered. “Give us your dress and your shoes!”

  “I will put them outside the door when I have taken them off,” Zia replied.

  “Shy, are you?” Saul sniggered. “I’ll ’elp you, if you can’t manage.”

  “Wait outside the door!” Zia said.

  She spoke firmly, looking at him defiantly and for one terrifying moment she thought that he would not do as she demanded.

  Then, as if he felt that it w
as a mistake to molest her, he went from the cabin and she knew that he would be waiting outside.

  Quickly, because she was afraid that he might come back in again and try to touch her, she took off the beautiful gown that she had put on to go shopping with Martha.

  As it fell to the floor, she picked it up with her shoes and, opening the door as short a way as possible, handed them through.

  She saw Saul’s dirty hands come out to take them.

  “You can ’ave this back when you’ve paid for it,” he jeered.

  She slammed the door in his face as he laughed.

  Once again the key was turned in the lock and Zia sank down on the bed feeling that she must be the most terrified woman in the whole world.

  Not even the Marquis would be able to find her and she was in the power of men who would not hesitate to kill her if it would save their skins.

  She wanted to beat on the wall and to cry out despairingly, but her sixth sense told her that it would be no help.

  Somehow, and she was not even certain why, she recognised that she had to keep her wits about her.

  She went over to the porthole to look out on the river.

  The River Thames was very wide at this particular point and she could see on the other side of the river that there were only a few wharfs and industrial buildings, but no houses for human habitation.

  ‘Even if I was able to signal,’ she thought, ‘nobody would be there to see it and Saul and the other men would not hesitate to attack me if they knew what I was doing.’

  She went from the porthole to sit on the bed.

  It contained an old faded mattress that the stuffing was escaping from in a number of places and the cover was torn and stained. There were two thin blankets, which were also none too clean.

  Otherwise the cabin was empty and looked as if it had been so for a long time.

  ‘I could die here and ‒ nobody would ever be aware of it,’ Zia said forlornly to herself.

  Then, almost as if a voice told her so, she knew that her father and mother would know and, whatever else happened, they would never forget her.

  ‘Help me – Papa,’ she prayed. ‘You have been in – dangerous situations in your life – but I never thought it would ever – happen to me.’

  Then once again she knew that the only one who could save her was the Marquis.