Andrew. Instruct your agent by all means. I will talk to Sir Matthew and see what I can discover—then I’ll report to you.’
‘Yes, I dare say you are anxious for Mariah’s sake. She is like a sister to you, I believe?’
‘She was my father’s ward until he died, and of course Lucinda has become very fond of her,’ Justin said. ‘I know Mariah intended to ask my advice about some fortune hunter, but perhaps because of various problems it never happened. I feel responsible and must certainly do what I can to help recover her.’
‘Then we shall work together.’
‘Of course. You know I was grateful for your help with my problems.’ Avonlea smiled. ‘We may not always have seen eye to eye over the methods you employed, Andrew—but we are friends, and in this we are united.’
‘Yes. Good grief, I need all the help I can get,’ Andrew said and frowned. ‘I suppose the ladies’ abduction is for a ransom? Only I’ve been involved in a bit of business—secret stuff for the regiment that I cannot reveal even to you—but it might have a bearing.’
‘Well, you know your own business best—but I shall do what I can to recover them both.’
‘I pray to God that they are both still alive.’
‘Yes.’ Justin looked grim. ‘I can imagine how you feel. I suffered enough when my wife disappeared—but she was found unharmed and I believe we shall come through this in good order, Andrew.’
‘I can only pray that your instincts are correct.’
Chapter Two
They seemed to have been riding for hours. Jane was beginning to think she was in some kind of mad dream that would never end when George at last brought his horse to a standstill and helped her to dismount.
‘Where are we?’ she asked, glancing towards the house, which looked silent and dark in the gloom of night. ‘Who lives here?’
‘No one at present,’ George replied. ‘It belonged to a relative of mine and has recently been left to me in a will. I have been meaning to visit and have it set in order.’
‘Are there any servants?’ she enquired in a dubious tone that made her companion look at her.
‘No, I fear not,’ George answered. ‘I know it is asking a great deal—but you have to trust me, Jane.’
‘You do realise that if I stay in an empty house with you for even an hour or so my reputation could be ruined?’
‘Yes, I know that it is a risk, but I really think we both need some rest. I have food. I dare say I can get a fire going and we shall find somewhere to curl up and sleep. I promise you are quite safe with me, Miss Blair—and no one need know the details. In the morning I shall take you somewhere more suitable—at least, to a place where you can be chaperoned.’
‘I really have no choice,’ Jane admitted ruefully. When she reflected on her capture, she realised that she had been compromised from the beginning. While most would sympathise, others would think her at fault for her reckless behaviour. ‘My ankle is throbbing and I shall fall asleep in the saddle if we go any farther tonight.’
‘Exactly.’ George smiled at her in a way that calmed her fears. ‘Truly, I mean you no harm, Miss Blair—and I shall endeavour to get us both out of this mess.’
‘I prefer it when you call me Jane,’ she said.
‘Our situation makes formality ridiculous. I have no choice but to call you by your name or sir. In the circumstances I think we should forget convention. Since we are forced into each other’s company, I suppose we must make the best of things.’
‘How sensible you are. I have seldom met a lady with your strength of character, Jane. Most of the ladies I know would have screamed or fainted given the situation you found yourself in.’
‘You need not tell me that I am too independent for modesty’s sake. It has been said before and not so politely.’ Jane laughed softly. ‘Had I been so faint-hearted I might never have been abducted. I dare say my brother will scold me for being reckless and thoughtless—and I believe I may owe you my life. The loss of my reputation can be nothing compared to what might have been.’
He inclined his head to her, applauding her courage. ‘Just so—now we should turn our minds to gaining entrance. I think I may have to break a window and climb through. You must wait here. I shall open a door and save you the indignity of clambering over the sill.’
Jane studied the small leaded windows. ‘Are there no French windows? I fear these windows would scarcely open wide enough for a man of your size.’
‘Yes, there is such a window at the rear. That is an excellent notion, Jane. Much better than a window, through which I might find it difficult to fit.’
‘I do not think you would make a competent burglar,’ Jane said, her humour asserting itself as she followed him to the rear of the house. There was no use in repining or complaining. They found the glass doors, which led out to the pretty and secluded garden. George stood looking at it for a moment, seemingly in deep thought. ‘What will you use to break the window? Or had you not thought so far?’
‘There you wrong me. I was merely remembering some good times I had here as a boy. It seems sacrilege to disturb the place, but it must be done.’ George took a pistol from his coat pocket, and turning the handle against the glass, gave it a sharp rap. It shattered at once. He pushed the jagged glass in and put his hand through the opening. Finding the catch which secured it, he was able to open the door.
‘I shall go first and light a candle,’ George said. ‘Be careful for there is broken glass. I do not wish you to stumble in the dark and hurt yourself.’
Jane hesitated just inside the door, allowing him time to explore. A few seconds passed and she heard him strike a tinder and then light flared in the darkness. He lit a branch of wax candles, the yellow glow illuminating the pretty if neglected parlour in which she now stood. She looked about her with interest, noting the delicate furniture, workbasket, spinet and the French cabinets filled with porcelain figurines.
‘This parlour must have belonged to a lady.’
‘Yes, it did—an elderly lady. She was my great-aunt and more than ninety years of age when she died.’
‘I hope she would not mind us breaking in?’
‘I should imagine she might find it exciting. I believe she was rather a dashing lady in her youth. She took a shine to me because I was considered a bruising rider to hounds as a youngster—and she was fond of hunting herself.’
‘A lady after my own heart, though it is the thrill of the chase I love. I usually leave the field before the kill.’
‘Aunt Augusta would not have approved of that,’ he said and smiled. ‘However, I seldom hunt these days. I saw enough death and killing in the army. I have no desire for more.’
‘Yet you joined forces with a dangerous man to help abduct an innocent young woman.’ Her tone was accusing and made him look at her.
‘I have no excuse I may
