her mind. It vexes me, that it does. Betty shouldn’t never ‘ave agreed to go, and I’m worried about her too.’
‘You did right to speak out. How many outdoor servants are there here?’
‘Only me and the coachman, Jaggers. You’ll find ‘im in the stables.’ He pointed in the direction of a group of outbuildings.
Jaggers, it appeared, had been with the family man and boy and he could tell his lordship all about the boys and their little sister. ‘Spoiled, she were,’ he said, ‘though not in bad way. She was the sunniest little thing you could imagine and a welcome daughter after three boys. They treated her like one o’ theirselves, always ready for mischief and for a dare.’
‘They have not always lived at Chipping Barnet, have they? I seem to remember an earlier incumbent when I was a boy.’
‘They come from Yorkshire. I were with them then, came along o’ them when they moved. Drove the carriage for them.’
‘Whereabouts in Yorkshire?
‘Moresdale.’
‘Could Miss Vail have gone there?’
The old man shrugged. ‘She were askin’ me about it earlier in the day, but then she was always full o’ questions. I didn’t think anything of it.’
‘When? What time?’
‘About noon, as near as I c’n say.’
‘Was she agitated?’
‘No, just talking, as if she were interested like, while she groomed her mare.’
‘But she didn’t take the mare out?’
‘No. An’ she couldn’t ‘ave asked for the gig because the Reverend had it out.’
‘So, either she was walking or she meant to take the stage.’
‘If she have bin so foolish as to attempt the stage, I fear for her, that I do, what with the terrible state of the roads and the chance of being attacked and robbed. I hopes you can fetch her back and no harm done, my lord.’
Jonathan thanked him and returned to the house where he found Mrs Vail alone in the parlour. ‘Ma’am, I have just been speaking to your coachman. He tells me that you moved here from Moresdale.’
‘Yes, we did. Fifteen years ago now.’
‘Do you think your daughter might be attempting to go back there?’
‘She does not know where it is. She was only five when we moved down here. I doubt she would remember it. And why would she want to go back there?’
‘I do not know, but perhaps you might hazard a guess?’ It was said meaningfully. ‘Why, for instance, did she abandon her gardening clothes on the flower bed? It seems to me that something startled her. Can you tell me what that could have been?’
‘No, my lord.’
‘Cannot or will not?’
‘Cannot. I beg you not to ask.’
The lady was so nervous, Jonathan was sure she was hiding something. ‘Madam, I will do what I can to find your daughter, but it is necessary for me to know everything, you understand? I cannot work in the dark.’
‘My lord, forgive me, I am not myself.’ She seemed to gather herself with an effort of will. ‘All I can tell you is that we were talking of the place where Louise was born and that might have aroused her curiosity, but I can hardly believe she would try to go there. She has never travelled anywhere on her own before. It is two hundred miles away and goodness knows what at the end of it—’ She stopped suddenly as if conjuring up some dreadful calamity in her mind’s eye that she could not put into words.
He decided she was afraid of something else beside the hazards of the journey. ‘Nevertheless, you do believe that is where she is heading?’
‘Perhaps.’ It was said reluctantly.
‘Does she have any money? She will not go far without it.’
‘The Reverend gives her pin money…’
‘How far will that take her?’
‘I do not know. She has little reason to spend it. Furbelows and fancy ribbons never appealed to her, so she may have a little saved. And…’ She stopped and swallowed hard. ‘I fear she sometimes plays cards with Luke and his friends and is always boasting of how much she has won.’
He almost laughed aloud at the thought of a vicar’s daughter gambling, but restrained himself. It was not a time for laughter. ‘How much has she won?’
‘I have no idea. It is only a little fun, but if my husband were to hear of it he would be very angry. I cannot think it amounts to more than a few shillings.’ She was unhappy about his questioning and wished to bring it to an end. ‘Go after her, my lord, please, bring her safely back to us.’
‘I will do what I can to find her, but short of tying her up and carrying her off, I cannot force her to return, you understand.’
‘Yes, but do your best to persuade her, I beg you. But whatever you do, please see she comes to no harm.’
He was still not completely satisfied, but he did not think he would get anything more out of her and took his leave. Finding runaway daughters was not the sort of thing the Club took on, but there was no time to go back and consult James, who in any case had gone home to be with his family, so it was up to him to decide whether to proceed. There was a mystery here and if the law had been broken, then that was reason enough. Besides, he was intrigued.
‘I don’t know why we ‘ad to go all the way to Lunnon, only to come straight back ag’in,’ Betty said as the coach drew up at the Red Lion in Barnet. ‘You changed yer mind, Miss Louise?’
‘Shh,’ Louise whispered, glancing at the other passengers to see if they had heard, but the noise of the horses being changed and the ostlers and coachmen shouting to each other had drowned her voice. ‘I am not Miss Louise. I am Mr Louis Smith. And you are Mrs Smith. Call me Lou, like I told you. And in answer to your question, no, I have not changed my mind. We could not have boarded the coach here, everyone knows us.’
Betty giggled. ‘Not like that, they wouldn’.’
Louise looked down at herself. She was wearing a pair of breeches, which had once belonged to one of her brothers, tucked into her own riding boots, a blue wool coat with enormous pockets and pearl buttons, a long matching waistcoat, a white linen shirt and a black neckcloth, all once worn by one or other of her brothers. Her hair was tied back in a queue such as military men adopted and fastened with a slim black ribbon and topped by a tricorne hat. The ensemble was completed with a sword belt into which she had put Matthew’s small sword; since becoming a parson he had ceased to carry a weapon. And into the capacious pocket of the coat she had put a pistol, which she had taken from a drawer in Luke’s room, along with a pouch containing ball, powder and tinder. She was a good shot, but had never aimed at anything but a target and doubted she would have the courage to use it in any other circumstances. But having it made her feel a little safer, more
