The Royal Scamp (9 page)

“You don’t know anything about Meecham, except what he chooses to tell you. It doesn’t seem to deter you from making him a bosom bow.”

Lady Brown stirred restively and said, “People are better off sticking with those they know.”
This was meant to hurl the two youngsters at each other’s heads. They both ignored her.

“Tell me, Josh,”
Esther said, “is your Meecham an ex-army man?”

“He was in the Peninsula till he took a ball in the arm. Why do you ask?”

“I have my reasons,”
she said vaguely, but she was annoyed that Meecham wasn’t trying to hide his background. Surely he had begun to say “Tagus”
and switched it to “Tamar.”

“He’s reticent about his army days. Tired with everyone congratulating him, I daresay. He was quite a hero. He’s a younger son from a very good Devonshire family. When he left the army, he decided to follow a political career. In fact, I mean to have him stand for parliament for this district in the next election.”

“To vote for all your policies,’
Esther said, unimpressed. “If politics is all you can find to talk about, you should be at the tavern with all the other dull gentlemen.”

“An excellent notion. I believe I will drop over and see if Meecham is there.”

“He is. If you hurry, you might find him not quite foxed.”

“Show Joshua to the door, Esther,”
her aunt suggested. Such short and discreet intimacies as this were encouraged.

“I’m always happy to show Joshua the door.”
Esther smiled.

Joshua acknowledged the shot with an appreciative eye. When they were alone, he said, “How does it come Fletcher is running tame here?”

“Blame it on my calling,”
she said, and told him about Fletcher’s interest in the inn.

A smile of approval beamed. “You mean you’re trying to sell it!”

“No, but I might consider it if the price is high enough.”

Ramsay gave her a curious look. “What has changed your mind, Esther?”

“Greed. I have no politicians in my pocket to line up profitable ventures for me, as you have.”

“True. I was at Whitehall just this morning, rearranging the country’s economy to suit myself. Actually I was talking to Sir Clarence Fulbright at the finance minister’s department about Paul. I thought he might fit in there—Paul Meecham. He has a head for figures. His talents are wasted in his present position.”

He opened the door but hesitated a moment before leaving. “A moonless night,”
he said pensively. “Captain Johnnie’s favorite raiding weather. I hope some hapless souls aren’t molested.”

“You would rob us all of entertainment,”
she teased. “Why, I shouldn’t be surprised if ladies take to the heath on a moonless night in hopes of a kiss from him.”

A reckless grin flashed across Ramsay’s face. Shadows concealed the familiarity of his features. For a moment Esther saw only the glitter of dark eyes, the flash of white teeth; then she was pulled into his arms and kissed. Surprise threw her off balance, and before she had time to object, she found herself being crushed in his strong arms, against a wall-hard chest. That the staid Joshua Ramsay should behave so daringly robbed her of reason. It was a thoroughly confusing moment, and after it was over, Esther admitted it had been enjoyable.

“I wouldn’t want you to risk your safety on the heath just for want of a kiss,”
he said when he released her. She thought he would sound embarrassed at his unusual act. His voice held no hint of embarrassment. It was insinuating, gentle, amorous.

Esther felt constrained to declare an annoyance she was far from feeling. “That’s about the poorest excuse I’ve heard yet,”
she scoffed.

“Next time I’ll have a better one.”
He laughed and strode off into the shadows, leaving Esther alone to ponder the unusual matter. It had been a very nice kiss. She doubted Captain Johnnie could do better.

Some new atmosphere had invaded the neighborhood. Twice in one day she had been kissed. It was the shadow of Captain Johnnie that was turning all the men into these reckless romantics. If the ladies lauded him for his daring, they thought, why should they not exploit it? At least it had been both Meecham’s excuse and Joshua’s. And Esther was not at all sorry. Perhaps it was just what was needed to bring a tingle of excitement to country living.

Twelve hours later Beau Fletcher was back, puffed with news. In her eagerness Esther ran to the hallway when he came in. She knew by his stricken face that he had failed her.

“Not another robbery!”
she gasped.

“The worst yet.”

“What happened?”

“He’s killed two men,”
Beau said. His face was pale. The news had left him weary and haggard, as though he hadn’t slept. She led him to the saloon and gave him a glass of wine to buck him up for the telling.

“When I left you last night, I watched Meecham till he staggered to his room at about one o’clock in the morning,”
Beau assured her. “I really think you’re mistaken about Meecham. It couldn’t have been him. The raid occurred just before dawn. There was a shipment of gold leaving the London mint, destined for distribution to the banks in Bath. It was supposed to leave at dawn, but it left a little early and was taken as soon as it entered the heath.”

“What of the guards Joshua spoke of last night?”

“It must have occurred somewhere between the postings of guards—they’re a mile apart, Ramsay said.”

“Was the shipment not accompanied by its own guards?”
Esther asked.

“There was a small convoy, armed guard on horseback traveling fore and aft. The guards were picked off first, shot in the back from afar—a rifle, obviously.”

“That sounds like a military man!”

“Make that men. The guards were shot simultaneously. Captain Johnnie’s got himself a cohort. The driver survived and gave the account. While the carriage driver was still in a state of shock, the masked raiders swooped down on him from the shadows. One of them was a small fellow, the driver said. Captain Johnnie followed his usual procedure—put the driver face down on the ground and made off with a stunning load of gold.”

“That wasn’t taken away on horseback,”
Esther said. “He must have had a wagon waiting.”

“No, he took the wagon, horses and all.”

“It could hardly have been accomplished by two men. This is the first time he’s murdered. There’ll be some strong action from Bow Street now. Where can he be operating from? He used two mounts, and where did he take the wagon of gold? He cannot have taken the wagon to my stable, thank God.”

“The Black Knight is the likeliest spot, but I’m afraid I have unpleasant news, Esther,”
Fletcher said. “The Bow Street runners are going over your inn with a fine-tooth comb.”

“Oh, dear! I’m ruined. No one will come back after this.”

“At least the runners didn’t find anything. Your guests seem to be taking it in good part. It’s ridiculous to think the highwaymen would take their loot to either the Black Knight or your place—the two obvious spots. They were still close to London; they’d rattle into the city, with thousands of places to hide.”

“How much did they get away with?”
Esther asked.

“Ten thousand in gold coin. They certainly knew the shipment was to be made. It’s odd they should have discovered it, for the government is usually at pains to conceal such information. The Scamp’s a cunning scoundrel.”

“Scoundrel?”
Esther asked, eyes flashing. “You are too kind, Beau. He’s a vicious killer, and a coward to boot. Shooting men in the back.”

The image of Mr. Meecham was in her mind. He was a dashing fellow, to be sure, but a vicious killer? Perhaps his stint in the Peninsula had inured him to killing. “And you don’t think it was Meecham?”
she asked reluctantly.

“I can’t believe he got himself sobered up and halfway to London by the crack of dawn.”

“He might have been shamming it, pretending to be disguised.”

“I suppose that’s possible. Once he retired, I returned to my room.”

“Was he in his room when Bow Street arrived?”

“Yes, I followed them to his door. He was in bed, but of course there’s no knowing how long he’d been there. His mount hadn’t left the stable since the afternoon before, so if it was Meecham, he left the inn on foot and had his cohort meet him with a mount.”

“We should have checked my old stable last night to see if he had mounts there. He didn’t leave his room and return by my ladder at least, for I had Buck put it in the cellar.”

Beau looked at Esther’s worried face and grimaced. “I should have kept a closer eye on Meecham,”
he said. “I tried to stay awake but fell off into a doze around three this morning.”

“Oh, Beau,”
she said, smiling, “I didn’t expect you to stay awake all night. No one could do that. Captain Johnnie himself doesn’t do it. He knows when he means to strike and takes his rest when he can. But a twenty-four hour guard must be kept on Meecham and on my stable, too. It’s not your fault; it’s mine. This is a job for Bow Street, not a couple of amateurs like us.”

“Would you like me to speak to them?”
he asked, but reluctantly.

“You don’t like to impugn Meecham’s character?”
she asked.

“He might be completely innocent. It seems a hard thing to do.”

She considered it a moment. “I’ll handle it myself. I shan’t make any accusations. I shall merely tell the runners what I know. I’d feel culpable if I didn’t do that much. I do feel guilty,”
she added thoughtfully.

Beau reassured her, but she could see his real interest was to get back to the inn, and before long, he left. Esther sent a footman to her old barn. Nothing suspicious was reported when he returned. She felt useless, sitting in the dower house while all the excitement was going forth at her own inn, only yards away. She sought about for an excuse to go there, not just to speak to the runners but to move into the inn temporarily. Lady Brown would have to go, too, of course. That was the problem, convincing her aunt to move into that hotbed of intrigue and impropriety.

How could she accomplish it? The roof of the dower house didn’t leak—that might have done it. Their servants weren’t ill. The house didn’t require fumigation. Esther looked about the Rose Saloon, seeking an excuse to find it intolerable. Other than looking a little old and dingy, it lacked nothing.

Old and dingy—she had always spoken of redecorating it, but the inn required so many changes that all her money went into it. She had some extra now. Painting a few rooms here would be her excuse to remove to the Lowden Arms. Their bedrooms and the saloon being the most frequented, these were chosen for renovation.

Esther took the precaution of informing Lady Brown of her intentions without, of course, telling her Captain Johnnie’s latest escapade. In her innocence Lady Brown sighed and said, “I cannot endure the smell of paint. I suppose we shall be tolerably comfortable at the Arms for a few days, and it will be nice to have the house freshened up. It is looking fatigued,”
she added, staring about the walls and ceilings. “Just give me a few days’
notice, and I shall be packed.”

“The men are coming today, Auntie.”

“Today? When did you call them?”

Esther crossed her fingers and said, “Yesterday. I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you. I’ll call the maid now and have her pack for you.”

Esther had a busy morning. She sent off for the local painter and harangued him into starting work that afternoon. She packed her own trunk to allow the servants to help her aunt, and by early afternoon the ladies strolled over to the Lowden Arms to select their rooms.

There was a little awkwardness in making Lady Brown see the advantages of two indifferent chambers, their only merit being that Esther’s room was next to Mr. Meecham’s.

“We would have a better view of home from the corner room, Esther,”
Lady Brown pointed out.

Esther replied, “These rooms are a little cheaper, Auntie. If we leave the more expensive ones for hire, it would help defray the cost of redecorating at home.”

“That’s true, and we see the main road from here. That will make a diversion, to sit at the window and watch the carriages bowl past.”

Esther planned much livelier diversions for herself. She darted down to the lobby as soon as her aunt was installed and went to Buck’s office. “Where are the Bow Street runners?”
she asked Buck.

“They’ve all left but Officer Clifford, and he came dressed as a farmer, to allay suspicion. What a morning it has been, Esther, and now we are saddled with a farmer, when we agreed not to entertain anything but gentility. He might have posed as landed gentry at least—not that anyone would have believed it with aitches dropped all over the place and a jacket that my groom wouldn’t be seen in.”

“Send for Clifford," Esther said.

Buck knew his employer had something important on her mind when she didn’t throw a tantrum at housing a man who was posing as a farmer. “What’s up?”
he demanded. “What’s brought you here to stay a few days? You never mentioned decorating the dower house, which is not to say the place don’t need it. I should like to have discussed the decorating with you.”

Esther quickly considered a plausible answer and said, “You have often mentioned that the Rose Saloon needed refurbishing. The painter had a cancellation, and I took advantage of it.”

“I hope you saw his colors.”

“Yes. I want to warn Clifford he must behave with the utmost discretion. I won’t have him bothering my guests.”

“It is a very pale rose I had in mind.”

“Yes, yes. A very pale rose. I wish you would hurry, Buck.”

“He’ll do you up in a garish pink if you don’t keep an eye on him. I’ll take a dart over myself later.”

“Fine, but first call Clifford.”

Buck left and was back in five minutes. “Clifford isn’t free right now. They tell me he’s interviewing Mr. Meecham in his room. Giving another client a disgust of us,”
he added sadly. “And Mr. Meecham such a fine gentleman, too, a friend of Joshua’s.”

“In his room?”
Esther asked quickly.

“Yes, but I daresay he won’t be long. Shall we nip over and check out the painter while you wait?”

Esther was already on her feet. “No, I’ll wait in my room, Buck,”
she said, and flew upstairs, where she put her ear to the wall to try to overhear what was being said next door. Lowden Hall had been well built. No sound penetrated through the thick layers of lath and plaster and several coats of paper.