were going to Bath on the stage…er…Annie. I only want you to help me to get a seat too. I have the money to pay, don’t worry. And, once we reach Bath, I can look after myself.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes. I plan to… But perhaps it would be better for both of us if I kept my plans to myself. Then, if anyone should ask, you can truthfully say you don’t know, can’t you?’ She beamed innocently at the abigail. ‘It sounds pretty rum to me, I must say. And, if I help you to get on the stage, I will be involved, whatever you choose to do about telling me your plans. How am I to explain that away?’
‘No one will be looking for a boy, Annie, I promise you. These clothes belong to Edmund. He won’t be back from Harrow for weeks and weeks, so nobody will notice they are missing. And all the clothes in my pack are my own, so when they discover I am gone, they will be searching for a girl.’
‘Hmph. And what if they discover that the lady’s maid from Calderwood Hall was suddenly to be found in the company of a young lad?’
‘They won’t. I don’t want us to be together. I just want you to tell me how I go about obtaining a seat on the Bath stage. Then I’ll do it myself.’
Annie Smithers seemed to be wavering. ‘It won’t do, Miss Jamie, I’m afraid. A young lad travelling by himself and buying his own seat at the last minute would be bound to attract attention. They’d wonder if you were running away from school.’ Jamie’s suddenly despondent expression must have shocked her. ‘Don’t take on so, miss. Look, I can help a little. I’ll go and see if I can buy an extra seat on the stage for you. Give me the money. Right. Now, you stay here. I don’t want them to know it’s for you.’ Pocketing Jamie’s coins, Smithers left the taproom.
In five minutes, she was back. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Jamie. It can’t be done. Mine was the last place on the stage. There’s no way he’ll take you, I’m afraid.’
Jamie sat down heavily on the wooden bench. She had tried to plan for every eventuality, but she had not foreseen this. She dared not hang around the inn waiting for the next stage in hopes of getting a seat. Too many people from Calderwood and the nearby villages used the Boar’s Head. She would very likely be recognised by someone.
Jamie groaned in anguish, clenching her fists. Then she slumped dejectedly against the wall. It had all been for nothing.
A cool voice from the doorway interrupted them. ‘Why, it’s Smithers, is it not? And in some difficulty, if I am not mistaken. How tiresome!’
Chapter Five
At the sound of that deep authoritative voice, Jamie felt a shudder run through her body. She knew exactly who had uttered those deceptively simple words. But, now that she was finally to meet the man whose image had been haunting her, she did not dare to turn round to look at him. What if he saw through her disguise? What if…? She shrank further into her boy’s clothes, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. Why did his arrival affect her so? He could not recognise her, for he had never set eyes on her, but somehow there was something incredibly threatening about his very presence. She sat staring at the floor, her hands clasped tightly together, as if in supplication.
Smithers, by contrast, was facing up to this unexpected arrival who seemed to find their presence so tiresome. She dropped a quick curtsy and then, without any kind of warning, cuffed Jamie lightly round the ear. ‘Stand up at once, Jamie, and make your bow to Lord Hardinge.’
Jamie rapidly obeyed, trying her best to bow as Edmund did and to conceal her dismay as she did so. What on earth was Smithers going to say? And do?
‘I beg your pardon for my brother’s want of manners, my lord,’ continued Smithers quickly. ‘He’s worried, you see, because there’s no room for him on the stage. They must have made a mistake up at the Hall and booked only one seat instead of two.’ She shrugged. ‘We’ll just have to wait, I suppose.’
Lord Hardinge looked inquiringly at the abigail. ‘A sudden departure, I collect?’
Smithers swallowed. ‘Urgent family business, my lord. I have to get Jamie to Bath quickly. He’s been… er…with me more or less since Mother died, you see, and now there’s a chance of a situation for him in Bath. But I need to be sure he’s settled. I promised my mother I would.’
‘Ah yes, very laudable, Smithers, very.’ He looked hard at Jamie. ‘And how old are you, my lad?’
Jamie found she could not speak. She looked appealingly at Smithers.
‘He don’t talk much, I’m afraid, my lord. He’s a little…well…backward. But he understands everything you say to him, I assure you, and he has the sweetest nature, too.’
Jamie gulped. Smithers was getting carried away. ‘I be thirteen,’ she croaked. ‘Gardener I be, sir.’
His lordship laughed, but not unkindly. ‘I could have guessed that from the state of your hands, Jamie, though not perhaps from your fine clothes. Are you a good gardener?’
Jamie nodded vigorously.
‘He has a wonderful way with growing things, to be sure,’ added Smithers, ‘though he’s not been a gardener, in the ordinary way.’
Lord Hardinge raised an eyebrow.
‘What I mean,’ continued Smithers hastily, improvising around the truth, ‘is that Jamie wasn’t exactly employed at Calderwood, just allowed to stay there. Charitable of her ladyship, really, to give him bed and board. The gardening was his attempt to pay his way. He’s not much good at household duties, I’m afraid.’
Jamie kept her head down, trying to hide her face from his lordship’s penetrating gaze. She knew she was blushing. That did not seem appropriate for a thirteen-year-old boy, even a backward one.
‘So, you have found him a proper situation as a gardener’s boy, have you, Smithers? That sounds hopeful.’
Jamie groaned inwardly. Smithers was beginning to struggle in the complications of her own story. If she claimed there was a position for Jamie, his lordship would probably enquire as to the employer’s name, and then what could Smithers say? Jamie held her breath.
‘No, not precisely, my lord.’ Smithers started to move towards the far end of the room. ‘Sit down there, Jamie,’ she called back. ‘Would you mind, my lord?’ she continued in a low voice. ‘I don’t like to discuss this in front of Jamie.’
Jamie swallowed a gasp. She wanted to stop them, but she could not step out of the part she was playing. No backward boy would understand what was being discussed, far less insist on being part of it. She must just put her trust in Annie Smithers. At least it would give her time to school her features into blankness— and a chance to strain her ears to hear what was being said.
‘I thank you kindly for your interest in my brother, my lord. In fact, there is no definite situation for him yet, but I am most hopeful. One of the Bath agencies believes he can be placed. There are many openings for bootboys and the like.’
‘But you said he has no bent for indoor work,’ he returned sharply.
Jamie saw that Smithers was flushing, caught by the twists of her own tale. ‘Not real indoor work, like a page boy,’ the abigail said hurriedly, ‘but even he can black boots.’
