she said sonorously. ‘You will be allowed a morsel of bread and water, which will be brought to you in five minutes. My footman will be armed, so do not make any trouble. Tomorrow, I shall come and read to you.’
Belinda and Hannah looked at each other in the gloom.
‘At least we’ll get a drink of water,’ said Belinda.
Hannah’s eyes fell on her trusty umbrellas, propped in a corner. She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘When this footman comes, I will stand behind the door and hit him on the head with my umbrella. It should be easy to stun him. The umbrella has a silver knob.’
‘What if you hit too hard and kill him?’ asked Belinda with a shiver. ‘Or what if you do not hit hard enough and he shoots
‘Quite simple,’ said the ever-practical Hannah Pym. ‘You dart to one side just as I strike him.’
Belinda began to tremble. ‘I am afraid of guns,’ she said.
‘Courage. We must have courage,’ said Hannah firmly, ‘else we shall be kept here and go as mad as that lunatic great-aunt of yours.’
Belinda wrinkled her brow in thought. Then she said slowly, ‘Great-Aunt Harriet is mad, but the footman is not. They are just two strong young men who are being well paid to perform their duties. The footman who is bringing us the bread and water may be armed, but he will not shoot us. He would not dare.’
‘True,’ said Hannah. ‘But I do not think we can risk it. He may just fire without thinking.’
The Marquess of Frenton knocked at Lady Bellamy’s door again. Again the butler opened it, but this time the marquess lifted him up by the elbows and set him aside, then walked past him. ‘Help!’ shouted the butler.
The marquess bounded up the stairs.
At the same time, the footman unlocked the door of Belinda and Hannah’s room and entered, carrying a tray in one hand and a gun in the other.
The room was in darkness and he could only make out the blurred whiteness of a face in the far corner.
‘Now!’ cried Hannah Pym, bringing her umbrella down on his head with all her might. Belinda dived under the bed. There was an almighty crash as the tray and the gun went flying and the footman measured his length on the floor.
The marquess heard that crash but found his way barred by the other footman. He only paused for a moment and then ran up as the footman spread out his arms to bar the way. For a split second, the marquess thought ruefully of his knuckles, already bruised from having punched Lord Frederick, and then he drove his fist full in the footman’s stomach. The footman doubled up. The marquess swerved past him and went up to where the sound of the crash had come from.
His heart was beating hard against his ribs as he saw a dark figure stretched on the floor. Hannah saw his silhouette in the gloom and raised her umbrella again.
‘Belinda!’ called the marquess. The umbrella dropped from Hannah’s suddenly nerveless fingers. ‘Here, my lord,’ she called.
‘Where is Belinda?’
‘Under the bed.’
‘Who is that on the floor?’
‘A footman. I hit him.’
‘Light. We must have light.’ The marquess went into the passage. An oil-lamp was burning in a niche at the far end. He brought it into the room and held it high. Belinda crawled out from under the bed. ‘Get us out of here, Richard,’ she begged. ‘Great-Aunt Harriet is run mad.’
The footman on the floor groaned and stirred. ‘Thank God,’ whispered Hannah. ‘I have not killed him.’
‘Follow me,’ ordered the marquess. He caught Belinda around the waist as she hobbled up to him and kissed her quickly on the mouth.
They followed him down the shadowy stairs past the footman the marquess had struck. He was sitting on the stairs holding his stomach. As they went down to the hall, Hannah said, ‘Wait! I am going to give that Lady Bellamy a piece of my mind.’
‘No!’ said the marquess. ‘That can come later. Outside.’
‘I command you to stay,’ called a voice from the stairs.
They turned and looked up.
Lady Bellamy was standing on the upper landing, holding a candle under her chin so that her white face and glittering black eyes appeared to be suspended in the blackness.
The marquess threw her one horrified look and shoved both Hannah and Belinda outside into the street.
‘We will go to the Pelican,’ he said. ‘Then we will decide what to do.’ He put his arm around Belinda again and helped her along and she leaned against him and felt she had been transported from hell to heaven.
They all had an enormous supper at the Pelican and then the marquess excused himself, saying there were things he had to do.
Belinda and Hannah, who were sharing a room, waited for his return anxiously.
He came back about midnight, with two of the inn servants carrying Belinda’s and Hannah’s luggage.
‘How did you get it?’ asked Belinda, wide-eyed.
‘I returned with two of the parish constables and the watch. Lady Bellamy was all help and charm. She showed them a letter from your parents, Belinda, in which they had urged her to chastise you as she saw fit. Locking young relatives up in rooms with only bread and water is an everyday happening. She showered the constables and the watchman with gold and apologized for having caused them to be brought out so late at night. I asked for your luggage and she ordered a footman, one with a bandaged head, Miss Pym, to bring the trunks.’
‘When we left, one of the constables, who was an old man, talked to me like a father and said it was wrong of me to drink so deep and frighten the poor old lady.’
Belinda and Hannah exclaimed at this and Hannah was all for going back and tackling the authorities, but the marquess said he had Belinda safe and was not going to let her go again. He did not want to see any other relatives.
‘You’ll have to see ’em,’ said Hannah. ‘You’ll have to take Miss Earle back to London and ask her aunt and uncle.’
‘I have decided I am not going to see them,’ said the marquess. ‘If Belinda is returned to London, I am forced into a long courtship!’ He turned to Belinda. ‘I have my travelling carriage. What say you to a Gretna marriage? We can return as man and wife and be married properly in church at our leisure.’
Belinda clasped her hands. ‘I would like that of all things.’
‘But if her aunt and uncle do not approve of the marriage, Miss Earle will not gain her inheritance,’ protested Hannah.
‘A fig on her inheritance,’ said the marquess. ‘You may come to Gretna with us if you wish, Miss Pym.’
But Hannah thought of being alongside such an amorous pair and shook her head. ‘I will take the stage back to London. But I will see your aunt and uncle, Miss Earle, and give them a piece of my mind.’
Hannah went out to the inn courtyard the following morning to say goodbye to the happy couple. Belinda was sitting on the box beside the marquess. Hannah opened her mouth to protest and then reflected that they were to be married, albeit unconventionally, and so appearances did not matter any more.
Belinda sat silently beside the marquess until the city of Bath was left far behind. Then he slowed his horses and smiled down at her. ‘I wonder if I shall ever forget Miss Pym,’ said Belinda.
‘No need to forget her,’ said the marquess. ‘I have her address. She may dance at our wedding – that is, when we are properly married.’
‘You are so good, Richard,’ sighed Belinda. She had decided not to mention the famous or infamous Lady Devine. Hannah had told her last night that was all in the past and gentlemen did not like to be reminded of old amours.
‘Good, am I?’ The marquess stopped the carriage and took her in his arms. He fell to kissing her passionately until his much-goaded tiger bawled out, ‘Get a move on, me lord, or we’ll never get to heathen parts’ – heathen parts being Scotland.
* * *
Hannah, too, considered the marquess a very good man. She returned to the room she had shared with Belinda to find he had left a letter of thanks and a purse of gold for her. She walked back out into the sunny morning, and bought a very dashing bonnet in Milsom Street, plus a cashmere shawl and a new umbrella, a replica
