“And then to add tonight’s business to the whole dangerous situation,” Charles Dalrymple said, gesticulating with the hand that did not hold his horse’s reins. “You are quite mad, Nick. You could hang. And I very strongly disapprove.”
Nicholas shrugged. “One cannot always control the timing of events,” he said. “It just happens to be tonight. And morality is not always a black-and-white thing, my friend. These are poor people who live here. I am not convinced that there is great morality in our present social situation. Why should some people be rich and others poor just because of the accident of birth? What I help these people do is no great sin. We really do not harm anyone. Quite the contrary. We please a great number of people.”
“You are mad,” Charles Dalrymple repeated.
“Here we are,” Nicholas said in the languid voice of Sir Harry Tate. “Lead the horses around to the back, Dalrymple. I shall go and see if Josh is at home.”
A couple of minutes later he appeared in the small yard behind the house with a grinning Josh, who bobbed his head in half a dozen bows when he saw the other gentleman.
“Right, Josh,” Nicholas said, “tonight is the night. Are you ready for it?”
Josh giggled. “I am that, Master Nick,” he said, bobbing his head again. “I am that.”
“Your task will be the same as usual,” Nicholas continued. “You know that you are the only one capable of doing it properly, don’t you, Josh, and that your part is vital to the whole operation?”
Josh giggled again. “Josh won’t let Master Nick down,” he said. “Josh won’t let Master Nick get caught.”
“Remember, you must not show yourself unless you have to,” Nicholas said. “Otherwise we will not be able to use you for the task again, Josh. Just watch the barracks of the coast guard carefully to make sure there is no unusual activity there. Only if there is must you show yourself. And then what must you do?”
“Josh go to them and say some nasty men set upon him and steal his money and beat him,” Josh said. “Josh point toward the rising sun. Master Nick will be toward the setting sun.”
“Right, Josh,” Nicholas said, patting him on the shoulder. “Your father will tell you when it is time to leave. We will all be safe if you do your job right. I shall see you tomorrow.”
“Josh see that Master Nick not get caught,” Josh said. “He see Master Nick tomorrow. Master Jonathan not come no more.” He sounded sad.
“Well, Dalrymple.” Nicholas became Sir Harry Tate again after one broad grin at his friend. “With luck on his side, your friend might see the light of another day. Josh here will be an invaluable help. All I have to do is slip from this house tonight and take myself off to Evans’ cottage. The stage is all carefully set for the rest. And if I am to have such a busy night, my friend, I do believe I should return to the house and rest.” He raised his quizzing glass to his eye, surveyed his friend through it, and grinned again.
“I still don’t like it,” Charles Dalrymple said, troubled. “I am not convinced of the morality of what you plan to do.”
Nicholas swung himself into the saddle, winked at a grinning and bobbing Josh, and turned his horse into the park again.
Kate, standing very still at the front of the house, where she had arrived but a minute before, had paled. They had found him already. They knew exactly where he was. And Sir Harry Tate was going to catch him that very night. It was not even an innocent piece of work. Sir Harry must realize that Nicholas was a wanted man. Mr. Dalrymple’s words suggested that he realize that there was something wrong in what they were doing. And Sir Harry had chosen that night for his Judas act.
And he had done it again. Nicholas Seyton had miscalculated the loyalty of his friends. Josh Pickering, probably not realizing what he was doing, was going to help Sir Harry.
Oh, that stupid Nicholas Seyton, she thought in a gust of anger. How had he ever survived until now without her to look after him? It was perfectly clear that he was in great danger, and equally clear that she could not rely on his “friends” to warn him. She would just have to do it herself. She would have to swallow her pride and go to him again.
But when? It was dangerous to wait until the night. Sir Harry might reach the cottage before she did. Now? But even as the thought occurred to her, she became aware of the approach of a gig to the gates. Lady Lacey and her daughter were inside, and the former was leaning over the side graciously offering Kate a ride back to the Abbey.
Well, tonight it would have to be, Kate decided, climbing into the gig with a smile and agreeing that, yes, it must be almost teatime.
Chapter 10
It was almost eleven o’clock at night again before Kate could leave Barton Abbey. It was indeed teatime when she and the other two ladies arrived in the gig, and immediately after that the riders returned and Kate was required to sit with Lady Thelma in her dressing room until it was time to dress for dinner. After dinner Kate was hoping to plead a headache and retire early, but the Marquess of Uppington wished to take Thelma walking in the formal gardens and Kate was called upon to accompany them. Lord Barton seemed to consider such chaperonage unnecessary, but Thelma insisted. And despite her eagerness to be gone, Kate could not resent that particular task.
But when they returned to the drawing room, she found that Sir Harry Tate was absent. When Thelma asked about him, Mr. Dalrymple explained that his friend had retired just a short while before, as he suffered frequently from insomnia and was very tired. Kate was in an agony. She forced herself to wait five whole minutes before asking her employer if she might be excused, then speeding to her room for cloak and bonnet.
Perhaps she would be too late, she thought. Probably she would be too late. She must go to the cottage on foot, while Sir Harry would undoubtedly ride. Her only hope was that he would not go directly to the cottage. If he knew of the earl’s suspicions and intended purpose to have Nicholas Seyton arrested-why else would he be going after him at night in this furtive manner?-then surely he would take help along with him. Some of the soldiers attached to the coast guard, perhaps?
She would not think of that, Kate thought as she half-ran across the darkened park and out into the countryside beyond. She would not think of being too late. She must reach Nicholas in time. The foolish man. Perhaps this time she would convince him that he was in great danger. Perhaps this time she could persuade him to go away. And why the possibility should depress her, she did not know. Perhaps this time she would see him without his mask. If he had still not retired to bed, he might not have time to don the mask before she was admitted.
A lamp was burning in a downstairs window, Kate saw with some relief as she approached the cottage. At least this time she would not face the embarrassment of having to wake the household after they had all retired. Unless they had already been wakened, of course, by Sir Harry and the coast guard. Kate felt her heart begin to thump, and she moved more cautiously. It would not do at all to allow herself to be seen by those people.
And even as she crept closer, she became aware of two figures standing against the hedge of bushes to one side of the gateway. Two men. Sir Harry and someone else? Kate opened her mouth and deliberately took a few deep, silent breaths. Her thumping heart was making it impossible for her to breathe normally.
Fortunately, she was close to some bushes and had a chance to creep nearer unseen. She must find out who they were and why they were standing there. And she must think of some way to get to Nicholas inside the house before they did and without their seeing her.
It took Kate several minutes to creep along the edge of the bushes until she was almost within hearing distance of the two men, who still stood where they had before. One of them, she could see now despite the darkness, was the man who had opened the door to her the last time she was here. Mr. Evans, the owner. And with him was Sir Harry Tate himself. Her eyes grew wide. How should she interpret this scene? Was Evans too in league with Sir Harry? Or was he trying to turn back a man he recognized as an enemy of his lodger? Impossible to say. Although Kate could hear the murmur of voices, she could not quite make out what they were saying. And where were the coast guard? In ambush all around the house? Kate could feel the flesh of her back creep.
