The Outrageous Lady Read online

  It was time for the light luncheon that Lady Roysdon ate at midday and when she finished she knew that the staff all repaired to the servants’ hall to have their dinner.

  This was their main meal and it consisted, as it did in London, of huge joints of beef and legs of mutton swimming in caper sauce with mountains of potatoes.

  They also had great suet puddings flowing with jam or treacle and all of it washed down with ale from the barrels that lay in the cellar.

  Lady Roysdon waited until her part of the house was quiet and then she climbed up the narrow staircase that led from the main rooms, which were on the first floor, to the bedrooms above.

  There the female servants slept, well apart from the footmen who were accommodated in the basement.

  Above the small rooms all opening onto a bare landing was a twisting staircase, which led, Lady Roysdon knew, to the attics.

  She had never been up there, but Mrs. Hermitage from whom she rented the house had asked if she could leave all her own personal belongings in the attics.

  “Of course,” Lady Roysdon had answered. “I will have no use for them.”

  “I am afraid I am a hoarder,” Mrs. Hermitage smiled, “and I keep almost anything in case it may come in useful sooner or later. I keep not only broken furniture and pieces of cracked china but also my children’s clothes as they grow out of them, although Heaven knows I am not likely to have any more.”

  Mrs. Hermitage had at the moment, Lady Roysdon remembered, two boys at Public Schools, one of them nearly seventeen.

  The keys to the attics, which were kept locked, had been left in the bureau in the morning room.

  “It is important for you to have them in your possession, Lady Roysdon,” Mrs. Hermitage had said, “for the simple reason that the wind often blows the slates off the roof and lets in the rain. When this happens, the man who does the repairs to the house will have to go up into the attics.”

  “I will keep the keys safely in case workmen may require them,” Lady Roysdon promised.

  This arrangement had taken place every year, but until now the keys had always remained in a small drawer in the bureau.

  Now she placed one in the keyhole of the first door she came to and opened it.

  The attics ran the whole length of the house and were divided into sections.

  The first one contained a miscellany of broken furniture, old bedsteads, broken china, pictures and mirrors smashed across their shining surfaces.

  In the next section Lady Roysdon found what she was looking for.

  There were several wardrobes and the clothes she wanted were hung neatly on long rails.

  She had such a large choice that she realised as she began to lift them down that she could pick and choose as to which would be the most becoming to her.

  *

  It was one minute to six o’clock when Lady Roysdon, wearing an enveloping black cloak, let herself quietly out of the front door.

  She had chosen her moment with care, having sent her maid half-an-hour before to a chemist for some special cachets, which she said she required for a headache.

  On her bed she left a note telling Hannah that she had changed her mind and had gone out to dinner. She was not to wait up, as she might be late.

  Fulton, who had been told that she was feeling unwell and had no wish for anything to eat, would be below stairs, resting his old feet and enjoying a pint of ale.

  Danvers, the nightwatchman, did not come on duty until it was dark and so the hall was empty.

  She walked away from the house, throwing her cloak back on her shoulders, and knew with a feeling of triumph that no one, not even a most intimate friend, was likely to recognise her.

  Lady Roysdon had played many parts in the wild pranks she had indulged in with the Earl of Sheringham.

  On the occasion she had gone with him to Covent Garden, she had dressed herself in the most vulgar garments that were likely to be worn only by a Cyprian inviting attention.

  It was quite fashionable for women of a better class to frequent Covent Garden wearing a small lace-trimmed mask over their eyes while they bargained with the gallants who drew up outside the Piazza in their coaches.

  They would watch the up and down procession of women until they saw a face that attracted them and then they would make a signal and the lady would join them.

  The whole district was thick with taverns, coffee houses, vapour baths and scores of less reputable places, which described themselves as bagnios.

  There was also a profusion of gaming houses where there was a silver table and a gold table and attendants stood about the room to watch for ‘sharpers’.

  Only the Earl would have thought of anything so preposterous as to take Lady Roysdon there in his carriage and suggest that she should join the ‘night walk’ round the Piazza and see who signalled to her.

  It had been a jest that they had laughed about together later, but which at the time had made Lady Roysdon glad of her talent in dramatic acting.

  “You are very pretty, my dear.”

  The rake who spoke to her she knew well by name and was aware that he was not only rich but also, the Earl had told her, continually boasting of his prowess with the opposite sex.

  “You are very kind, my Lord,” Lady Roysdon had replied, looking at him through her mask with what she hoped were bold eyes.

  “Will you join me?”

  He indicated the seat beside him in the coach and as she leaned on the window looking him up and down she realised that he was not as young as she had thought and a great deal fatter through drinking too much and taking no exercise.

  “What will you pay me?”

  “I am known to be generous,” he replied.

  “How generous?”

  “What would you demand for a cosy little supper together before we enjoy ourselves afterwards?”

  “My price is very high, my Lord.”

  His eyes flickered over her.

  “It should be worth it. Name what you require.”

  “It is that you should run up the three hundred and eleven steps of the Monument and down again six times. I have a friend who will see that you fulfil the conditions to the letter and I will be waiting for you when you descend for the last time.”

  She saw the look of astonishment in his face, which was quickly replaced by an expression of anger.

  “Get out of here!” he cried furiously, adding a long stream of offensive names.

  But she had only laughed at him and walked away.

  She had thought up a number of other conditions as a fee and surprisingly enough not one of them had been accepted.

  As she drove back with the Earl, pulling a golden wig from her hair, she had laughed at the fools they had made of rakes who had nothing better to do than hang about Covent Garden.

  *

  Jake, waiting with the horses in the shade of a tree behind the Mews, heard the Church clock in the distance strike the hour and looked for his Mistress.

  He started when an elegant young man, wearing a pair of tight yellow pantaloons, a cut-away coat and highly polished Hessian boots, accosted him.

  “Good evening, Jake!”

  For a moment he stared incredulously at the white cravat that encircled Lady Roysdon’s throat, at the starched white collar, the points high above her jawline and the tall hat set at an angle on her dark head.

  He was not to know that the most difficult part of the whole ensemble, Lady Roysdon had found, was to coil her long hair so tightly round her head that it looked as if it was cropped in the new fashion worn by the bucks.

  She had tried on quite a number of coats belonging to Mrs. Hermitage’s sons before she found one that fitted to her satisfaction. Several pairs of the pantaloons were too long and several too tight.

  Finally she had everything she required and, holding the clothes over her arm and carrying the boots, she had crept down the stairs to hide them in her bedroom.

  Fortunately on another occasion she had practis
ed tying the complicated folds of a muslin cravat. Once the Earl of Sheringham had had a wager with three other women besides herself that they could not tie a cravat as cleverly as a gentleman or better still his valet.

  The others had made helpless muddles of the long stiffened strips of muslin, but Lady Roysdon’s fingers had made the cravat she tied on the Earl’s neck almost a model of perfection.

  Even Beau Brummell, who had been asked to be the judge of the contest, had applauded her effort and the Prince Regent had declared that if he was ever short of a valet he would make use of her services.

  “Is it really you, my Lady?” Jake asked.

  She realised as he spoke that he was not only surprised but also rather shocked by her appearance and she smiled as she took her cape from her shoulders.

  “Hide this somewhere until we return,” she said. “It’s far too hot for me to wear it.”

  He obliged her by pushing it through a hole in the wall from which the bricks had fallen away.

  Then they were both in the saddle, riding down the side streets and out of the town.

  Chapter Three

  Lady Roysdon stood waiting among the trees at what she realised was the top of the wood.

  Through the branches she could see the crimson and gold of the sky as the sun sank over the Downs.

  There was the scent of pines, the sweet smell of moss combined with the salt on the wind and she thought that here there was a peace such as she had never found anywhere else.

  As they had ridden quickly from the town, she had known that Jake was apprehensive. More than once he looked over his shoulder to make quite certain that they were not being followed.

  But, she told herself, she had covered her tracks very cleverly. The servants would believe what she told them and so would the Earl of Sheringham.

  He had sent her a note during the afternoon asking abruptly if he could see her and she had known by the way he wrote and the lack of elegant compliments that he was still angry.

  She had answered him pleasantly, saying that she was tired and intended to rest after being so late the night before and adding that they would doubtless meet the following day on the Steine and certainly at the party the Prince Regent was giving at the Royal Pavilion in the evening.

  It was quite reasonable, she thought, that she should plead some fatigue, even though in London she was indefatigable and would go out night after night, never too tired to accept another engagement.

  She looked back as they reached the outskirts of the great wood that covered a large part of the countryside and which she thought must furnish an almost impenetrable hiding place for highwaymen.

  There were rides cut between the trees and now Jake went ahead and she followed behind him.

  They moved almost silently over the soft sandy ground, disturbing only the birds, which fluttered amongst the branches protesting at their intrusion.

  She realised that they were climbing and finally when they seemed to have reached the very top of the wood there was a clearing with several fallen tree trunks and a view over the Downs stretching away towards the sea.

  Jake drew his horse to a standstill, dismounted and assisted Lady Roysdon to do the same.

  “Will you wait ’ere, my Lady?” he asked.

  They were the first words that had been spoken since they left Brighton.

  She nodded, then he walked away leading the horses and she had no idea where he was going.

  She sat down on the trunk of a fallen tree. Then, because she felt warm, she very carefully removed her high-crowned hat from her head.

  She had swathed her hair closely and caught it with dozens of pins but she was relieved to find that it had not been disturbed while she was riding and there were no untidy wisps falling over her white cravat or escaping at the sides of her cheeks.

  She sat for what seemed a long time, hearing the birds overhead going to roost and in the undergrowth the movement of small animals.

  They were normal sounds in a wood, but she had never listened to them before and now she felt that they were infinitely preferable to the chatter of high-pitched voices.

  She was still alone and she began to wonder if in fact the highwayman had refused to see her or was perhaps engaged on his own business and Jake could not find him.

  She rose and walked forward to look at the view, leaning as she did so against the trunk of a fir tree and feeling its bark rough beneath her hand.

  Then she heard a footstep behind her and knew that he was there.

  “You wish to see me?”

  His voice was quiet, even as it had been the night before, and she turned round slowly and saw that he was unmasked.

  She had tried in the darkness of the night after going to bed to picture his face and she knew now that she had been almost right in imagining how he would look.

  She had visualised the square forehead, the straight nose, the thin face with high cheekbones and grey eyes that seemed strangely and disconcertingly penetrating.

  She stood looking at him and realised that his eyes were gazing deep into hers as if he searched for something that he had not yet found.

  There was the ghost of a smile on his upturned lips and she thought that she amused him and was suddenly resentful that he should be so impertinent.

  Her chin went up a little under his scrutiny.

  Then he smiled and it seemed to illuminate his whole face and made his grey eyes twinkle.

  “You make a very prepossessing young gentleman, Lady Roysdon!”

  “Jake was afraid that I might be recognised.”

  Even as she spoke, she was angry with herself for having to make excuses, for putting the blame on Jake.

  “Jake is justifiably nervous.”

  “Who is he and why does he know you?”

  “Is that what you came to ask me?”

  “No, of course not. I came because I need your help.”

  “In recovering your jewels?”

  Lady Roysdon made an impatient gesture with her hands.

  “No. It does not concern myself, but a friend.”

  The highwayman raised his eyebrows. She noticed that his hair, for he did not wear a hat, was a dark brown in contrast to the steel grey of his eyes.

  His face was sunburnt and his chin, as she had seen last night, was tanned against the white muslin of his cravat.

  “Shall we sit down while you explain what you want of me?” the highwayman suggested. “I regret I have not more comfortable furniture to offer you.”

  Lady Roysdon gave a little laugh as she walked back to the fallen trunk where she had sat while waiting for him and where she had left her hat.

  The highwayman sat sideways, one knee raised, and she thought how graceful he was for a big man.

  “You have arranged your hair very skilfully,” he said after a moment. “I thought your head would be Grecian in shape and in perfect proportion to your small nose.”

  To her annoyance she felt the colour rise in her cheeks at the compliment.

  Yet he had spoken almost impersonally, as he might have done about a beautiful vase or inanimate object that he appreciated.

  “I want to tell you about my friend,” she said quickly.

  “I am listening.”

  She explained about Averil Dorridge and the way that her brother-in-law had behaved.

  “The necklace is hers,” Lady Roysdon finished. “Her husband gave it to her as an insurance against his dying without a son, since the house and everything else was entailed onto the next Baronet.”

  “And you are suggesting that I should steal back this necklace,” the Highwayman asked, “when Sir Francis goes to Shoreham this evening?”

  “It should not be difficult to intercept him,” Lady Roysdon replied. “As you must be aware, most fashionable people travel Eastward from Brighton along the cliffs to Rottingdean, but the road to Shoreham is quiet and deserted.”

  She paused and then added,

  “If I am not mistaken, just before one
reaches the town there is a clump of elm trees in which it would be easy for us to hide.”

  “Us? Are you intending to take part yourself in this criminal act?”

  “But of course,” Lady Roysdon answered. “How else would you recognise Sir Francis’s carriage or the livery of his attendants?”

  The highwayman smiled.

  “So it is to be another escapade for an outrageous lady.”

  She did not know why, but his words hurt her.

  “I was not – thinking of it like – that,” she said after a moment, “but considering how I could – help my friend.”

  “And this is the only solution you have found to her problem?”

  “The only one,” Lady Roysdon answered. “I assure you that I have explored every other possibility.”

  “Including asking for the assistance of the Earl of Sheringham?”

  Again she felt hurt by his words in a manner she could not explain to herself.

  “I don’t require his help or the help of any other gentleman of my acquaintance.”

  “So you are forced to seek the assistance of the man who robbed you last night.”

  She did not answer and after a moment he said,

  “Jake told me that you have not informed the Magistrates of your loss. Why not?”

  “Must I explain my reasons to you?” Lady Roysdon asked almost angrily. “After all, you should be glad of my forbearance.”

  “I am, of course, humbly grateful,” the highwayman replied, but he did not sound it.

  She glanced at him and saw that he was smiling a strange secret smile, as if at some private thoughts of his own.

  “Are you going to help me?” she asked.

  “What really concerns me is that I should have need of your collaboration.”

  “I have every intention of coming with you.”

  “It may be dangerous.”

  “I am not afraid of danger.”

  “This is rather different from the dangers your Ladyship has encountered in the Haymarket and at Covent Garden or in even more unsavoury places.”

  “I am not afraid!”

  “It would be foolish not to be! Bullets can kill! And I am quite certain that Sir Francis, as you have described him, will take every precaution to guard himself against footpads and highwaymen.”