Runaway Lady. Claire Thornton
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help, she would retaliate by hurting Anne.
London—Saturday, 15 June 1667
It took only a few minutes for Saskia to let Johanna know she was leaving the coffee-house and collect the bag containing the few possessions she’d acquired since leaving Cornwall. She set off for the livery stable, very conscious of her new manservant and protector striding beside her. For the first few yards he gained ground on her. After that he moderated his pace to match hers. She had a ridiculous urge to show him she could walk just as fast as he could—which felt very strange, because for so long she had curbed her physical energy in Pieter’s presence.
A long-suppressed memory of her first winter in Amsterdam flashed into her mind. It was before Pieter’s accident, and they’d both gone skating on the frozen canals of the city. Pieter had been strong and quick, with all the assurance on the ice of one who’d learned to skate almost as soon as he could walk. At first she’d been nervous and hesitant, but she’d quickly gained her balance and her confidence. She’d been exhilarated by her new-found skill, laughingly, perhaps shockingly, challenging Pieter to race with her. They’d had that one winter of carefree joy—then Pieter had been crippled and her expectations for her future had irrevocably changed.
The fugitive awareness flickered in her mind that, even when he was whole and healthy, Pieter had never possessed quite the virile energy of the man walking beside her. Then she pushed aside her memories and her unsettling response to her companion. Now they were in public she was once more holding the mask to her face. It was Tancock she was hiding from, but it was also a relief to conceal her expression from her new manservant’s far too intense and disturbing scrutiny. It occurred to her that, even though she had supposedly been the one conducting the interview, he had asked nearly all the questions. She would have to rectify that at the earliest opportunity. She needed to know more about him before she trusted her life and Benjamin’s in his hands.
‘It would be more efficient if you tied it on,’ he said, indicating the mask.
‘There’s a button I should bite to hold it in place,’ she replied, ‘but then I would not be able to talk. What’s your name?’
‘Harry Dixon. What’s yours?’
‘Sarah Brewster.’ Thinking up a suitably English name had been one of the first things she’d done. She owed her Christian name to her Dutch mother, and it was far too unusual to use openly in her current situation. She was still pleased with her new English name. She was less convinced that the story she and Johanna had invented about the jealous former mistress was equally satisfactory, but she’d needed an explanation for why she required protection. Johanna had suggested she hint she was an actress, but the opportunity had never arisen.
‘We’re leaving for Portsmouth this afternoon, Mistress Brewster?’
‘Yes.’ Portsmouth was not their destination, but she didn’t intend to reveal where they were really going until they were well on their way. Guildford would be soon enough. They wouldn’t get that far today, but Saskia was conscious of every minute ticking by, taking them closer to Benjamin’s twenty-first birthday on the twenty-second of June.
She had to rescue him before then. She was very afraid that, if she didn’t, as soon as Benjamin gained control of his inheritance he would be forced to sign a will in Lady Abergrave’s favour and then he would be killed. That had been Lady Abergrave and Tancock’s original plan when Saskia had been out of their reach in Amsterdam. Surely Lady Abergrave wouldn’t risk killing Benjamin before his birthday while Saskia was still alive? She must know that as long Saskia had breath in her body, she would seek justice for her brother. But Saskia didn’t dare predict how her aunt might behave. As fear for Benjamin overrode every other thought, she quickened her pace until she was almost running.
‘You are very eager to return to your lover’s arms,’ said Harry Dixon.
‘Oh… Yes.’ Jarred out of her preoccupation, Saskia flushed behind the mask. ‘That is, I have a great deal to do when I reach Portsmouth,’ she added hastily. She was very glad their arrival at the livery stable cut short any further conversation about her supposed lover. But her new servant immediately created another complication by insisting he ride beside the coach rather than sitting next the coachman. A saddle horse was an additional expense Saskia hadn’t anticipated.
‘You are hiring me to protect you. If you have any sense, you won’t interfere with the arrangements I make,’ Harry said, when she challenged him.
‘I’m paying for your arrangements,’ she pointed out.
His eyes narrowed. ‘Can’t you afford a horse for me?’
‘Of course.’ The problem for Saskia wasn’t lack of resources, but a limited supply of ready coins. She’d arrived in Plymouth from Amsterdam with four bills of exchange concealed in the pocket beneath her skirts. She’d converted one of the bills into English coins in Plymouth on her first day in England, and she’d used that money to pay her way to London. Unfortunately, the Dutch attack meant she was temporarily unable to convert her other bills of exchange into cash. She’d given one to Johanna in return for the clothes and coins the other woman had provided, but she would have to wait before the crisis between the Dutch and the English was resolved before she could present the others to one of London’s goldsmith-bankers.
She wasn’t yet ready to reveal the existence of the bills of exchange to Harry Dixon, but once they had saved Benjamin she planned to reward him by giving them both to him—and perhaps more besides. Her brother’s life meant far more to her than money.
‘Choose a horse,’ she ordered. ‘And then let us be on our way without any further delay.’
Leaving London was a slow business. They drove through the ruins of the burned City and were delayed for over an hour by the heavy traffic of carts and people before finally crossing London Bridge into Lambeth. Saskia wanted to scream with frustration—or at the very least get out and walk. But she knew that made no sense. Once they were out of London they would make better time.
She relaxed slightly once the coach was rumbling steadily forwards. The first part of her mission had been successfully accomplished. She was on her way back to Benjamin. Now she must plan her next steps. How was she going to rescue her brother when she reached Cornwall? And how was she going to bring Lady Abergrave and Tancock to justice? She had to make sure that neither of them could ever be a threat to her family again.
She still hadn’t solved the problems by the time they arrived at the Coach and Horses inn at Kingston-upon-Thames. It was late evening and Harry announced they would stay there for the night.
‘We can go a few more miles at least,’ Saskia protested.
‘Are we staying here or not?’ the coachman asked.
‘We’re staying,’ Harry said, and the coachman obeyed immediately without waiting for Saskia’s response.
Harry’s automatic assumption of command irritated Saskia. She’d managed Pieter’s business for years. She wasn’t used to having her wishes ignored or overruled. She almost challenged him there and then, but over the years she’d learned to pick her battles. A public argument with Harry was unlikely to enhance her authority in either his eyes or the coachman’s—particularly when he was right. Despite her restless need to keep moving, she knew the waning moon would provide little light for the journey. It made sense to stop for the night and continue early in the morning. At least it would give her an opportunity to learn more about her new manservant before she risked trusting him with a portion of the truth.
Harry was well aware of Sarah Brewster’s irritation. She was clearly impatient to complete her journey. He thought she was also annoyed with him for giving orders so freely, but that didn’t worry him. He was used to taking command and he had two priorities: the first was to establish whether she was indeed Saskia van Buren and a traitor; the second was to keep his promise to protect her. He would do whatever was necessary to achieve those goals. He had no intention of compromising his efforts by pandering to his new employer’s