Twenty-five

Elisabeth entered the breakfast room rather after her usual time the next morning, due to a restless night full of uneasy dreams. To her surprise, she found Jane there. “Good morning,” she said to her friend. “You’re late today, too. I don’t believe I’ve known you to breakfast after eight o’clock since we arrived.”

When she turned to reply, Jane appeared a bit heavy-eyed. “Indeed, I didn’t sleep very well,” she answered.

Elisabeth sat down and rang for fresh tea. “Nor did I,” she said, reaching for a muffin and beginning to butter it.

“I was thinking.”

“It must be in the air, then, for I was doing the same. Were you composing a new poem or merely formulating an article castigating young women of today for their frivolity?”

“No, neither,” said Jane. “I am… I have been concerned… I should very much like to have a private talk with you, Elisabeth.”

The younger girl sobered immediately. “Why, of course. Is anything wrong? I hope nothing has happened to upset you.”

Jane turned her head toward the window. “Not precisely. That is, I am a little upset. I wish to talk.”

“Of course,” responded Elisabeth after a pause. “What is it? How can I be of help to you?”

Jane turned back, moving rather nervously. “Oh, we can’t talk here. Will you come walking with me this morning? I need to move about; I can’t stay still.” As if to demonstrate this, she got up and walked to the window.

Elisabeth hesitated. “I do have an appointment this morning,” she began. “Could we perhaps go this afternoon instead?”

But Jane shook her head vehemently. She came back to the table and leaned across it toward Elisabeth. “No. Please, it must be now.” Tension and anxiety were clear in her face.

“Very well,” replied the other girl. “If it’s so serious, then of course I can cancel my engagement. Did I understand that you wish to go immediately?”

“Yes. Please.”

Elisabeth nodded. “If you will wait a moment while I write a note, then, and fetch a shawl. You had best do so, too; there is a little chill this morning.”

Jane agreed. “But Elisabeth,” she added, “please don’t mention that you’re walking with me when you change the appointment. I don’t wish to be blamed, and it might be thought strange. I don’t want anyone else to know of my worries.”

Privately thinking her friend rather oversensitive, Elisabeth went into the library to compose a note to Derek Wincannon. She found this a little difficult, since she was putting him off for the second time, but she finally asked him to call in the afternoon rather than the morning. She got a shawl from her room and descended to the hall where Jane awaited her. “Ready?” she said, smiling.

“Yes,” answered Jane quickly, “but I have stupidly forgotten to bring my sketching things. Will you wait for me in the garden while I fetch them?”

“Do you need them today?” asked Elisabeth. “I thought you wanted to talk?”

“I want nothing to appear out of the ordinary,” replied the other girl tensely. “Oh, Elisabeth, you don’t know what has occurred. No one must find out.” This last remark was so impassioned that Elisabeth frowned sympathetically.

“Indeed? Well, I will wait in the garden if you wish it.”

“Please,” begged Jane. “I will look for you by the stile.”

Elisabeth walked down the path to the back garden. She waved to Mr. Lewis, who was crossing the stableyard some distance away, and greeted two of the gardener’s boys who were digging in the rose beds. She took the path between high hedges of boxwood that led to the stile into the field beyond.

It was indeed a little cold; the sky was overcast and threatened rain later in the day. She waited only a few moments before Jane came hurrying up, carrying a leather case. “Do you think it will rain?” Elisabeth asked her. “I hope we’re not in for a wetting.”

“It will hold off,” answered Jane, and she stepped onto the stile quickly.

Elisabeth followed her, and soon they were walking side by side along the footpath across the field. Jane set a brisk pace and remained silent.

After a while, Elisabeth grew puzzled. “What may I do to help you?” she asked the other girl at last. “Are you in some trouble, Jane?”

Without slackening her pace, Jane turned her head. “It’s so hard to begin,” she replied. “Forgive me. I know I’m acting strangely, but the exercise helps to calm me. Allow me a little time to gather my thoughts.”

“Of course,” said Elisabeth.

They walked. When they reached the end of the path and came into a lane, Jane turned left at the same brisk walk.

Thinking conversation might put her friend more at ease, Elisabeth said, “I’ve never walked this way before. I don’t yet know the neighborhood at all well. Have you been down this lane?”

“Yes,” responded Jane. “I’ve walked here several times.”

They went on for a while in silence, Elisabeth becoming more and more puzzled. Finally, she could stand it no longer. “Jane,” she began.

But the other girl interrupted her. “I know. I’m behaving very foolishly, and you’re quite right to be annoyed. I must tell you what has happened.”

“Shall we not stop and perhaps sit down somewhere?” Elisabeth looked about but saw only hedges and a few trees beyond them.

“No,” answered Jane decisively. “It really helps me to walk. Please.”

“Very well.”

Jane frowned as if in concentration. “I received a letter yesterday,” she began finally. “It held unsettling news; I have been worrying over it all night and morning.”

“What was it?” asked Elisabeth sympathetically. “Your family?”

Jane shook her head. “No. A friend. A dear friend has been killed.” She put a hand to her eyes as she walked on.

“Oh, my poor Jane. I’m so sorry.”

Jane said nothing. She kept her hand before her face, and Elisabeth thought she cried a little.

They rounded a bend in the lane. There was a low building ahead of them near the intersection with the high road. Elisabeth held out a hand toward her friend. “What do you wish to do?” she asked. “Do you want to go to them? I can give you the carriage and come with you if you like. Or if you prefer to travel alone…”

Jane started to lower her hand from her eyes, took a false step in a deep rut of the lane, and fell headlong on the road surface, dropping her case and crying out sharply.

Elisabeth ran to her. “Jane,” she cried, “are you hurt?”

To her relief, Jane sat up immediately. “No, no. How stupid of me. I wasn’t watching where I stepped.” She started to rise, but when she put weight on her left foot, she cried out again and clutched Elisabeth’s arm. “Ahh. I seem to have twisted my ankle,” she said through clenched teeth. “How foolish!”

Elisabeth put an arm around her for support. “Don’t be silly. It wasn’t your fault. But how shall we get you home again?” She looked about helplessly, seeing as she did so that the first few drops of rain were beginning to spatter the dust of the lane.

“That building is a small inn,” answered Jane tightly. “It isn’t elegant, but they will help us.”

“How fortunate,” sighed Elisabeth. “Can you walk there, or shall I fetch someone to carry you? Yes, that is best. Sit down here on this rock; I’ll only be a moment.”

“No, no, I can walk, with your help. It is only a step.”

Slowly, Jane leaning heavily on Elisabeth and limping, they traversed the short distance to the inn.

They reached the door just as the rain began in earnest, and Elisabeth was very grateful to enter the close narrow hallway and ease Jane into a straight chair there. “How lucky we were that this inn was so near,” she said. “Look, it’s truly raining now, and I daresay it will keep up all afternoon.”

Jane made no reply, and Elisabeth turned to peer down the corridor behind them. “I wonder where the innkeeper is?” she said. “There seems to be no one about.” There were several doors along the hall, but all were closed. “Hello,” called Elisabeth more loudly. “Is anyone here?”

“Who be that?” answered a deep voice from the recesses of the inn. And immediately afterward a large man appeared and came toward them. “Who’s there?” he repeated.

“Hello,” said Elisabeth. “Are you the innkeeper?”

“Mr. Crenshaw,” said Jane.

“Ah, it’s you is it? I never thought to see you in this rain, Miss Jane.”

“Indeed, we were lucky to reach shelter before it began,” replied Jane. “Is there a fire in the parlor? May we go in?”

“You know there is.” He opened a door at the right and gestured them in. Elisabeth could see the gleam of firelight from inside the room.

She turned to their host. “Miss Taunton has twisted her ankle,” she said to him. “We must help her to walk.”

“You go ahead, Elisabeth,” said Jane. “Mr. Crenshaw will give me his arm.”

“Course I will.”

Elisabeth looked from her friend to the burly innkeeper a bit doubtfully, then shrugged slightly and led the way into the parlor. It was rather dim, the only light coming from the fire and a small window.

It wasn’t until she was quite close to him that she realized someone else was in the room. “Good day, Miss Elham,” said George Jarrett. “Quite unpleasant weather, is it not?”

“Mr. Jarrett!” exclaimed Elisabeth. “What are you doing here?” She turned back toward the door, only to see it shut tight behind her.

She started quickly back, holding out a hand to grasp the doorknob. At the same time, she called, “Jane,” sharply and with some distress in her voice. Was her friend all right? But before she could reach the door, it opened, and Jane strode into the room.

“Yes, Elisabeth,” she said. “What is it?”

“Your…your ankle,” stammered the other girl.

“Very well done, Jane,” said Jarrett behind her. “I feared the rain would spoil everything.”

“You underestimate me,” answered Jane, smiling scornfully.

Elisabeth looked from one to the other, stunned. “What’s going on?”

“To put no sugar coating on it,” replied Jarrett, “you’ve been abducted, my dear Miss Elham.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Elisabeth. She turned. “Jane, what is this? Some sort of joke? I promise you I don’t find it funny.”

“I am afraid it’s true,” said Jane. She looked past Elisabeth to Jarrett. “I’ve done my part. I must return to the house.”

“Jane! What are you doing?” Elisabeth’s tone was both shocked and unbelieving. “You cannot make me believe you’re involved in this preposterous scheme.”

Jane shrugged. “I shan’t try. But don’t deceive yourself into thinking it preposterous, Elisabeth. I assure you it’s well planned. You are taken. Mr. Crenshaw is in Jarrett’s pay, and there is no one else here.”

“I’ll be looked for.”

“True,” continued Jane, “but you’ll be long gone before that. And now I must go.” She turned toward the door.

“Jane!” cried Elisabeth. “You won’t leave me here?”

Jarrett spoke up then. “Indeed, I’ve thought it over, and I believe that perhaps you should stay. It might make things easier.” He smiled. “And it would certainly prevent you from changing your mind about our little agreement. Crenshaw,” he called.

But before the door could open completely, Jane had reached into the pocket of her gown and pulled out a tiny pistol. Elisabeth watched astonished as she backed away to train it on both Jarrett and the entering Mr. Crenshaw. “You can’t think me such a fool as to trust you, Mr. Jarrett,” said Jane. “I’m disappointed in you.”

Jarrett bowed deeply. “As I am not in you, Miss Taunton. You will, of course, do just as you please.”

Jane smiled. “You don’t wonder whether I can shoot?”

“I assume it.”

Jane laughed. “And you are right. Good day, Mr. Jarrett. You will post the cheque to me in London. You know the consequences if I don’t receive it.”

Jarrett bowed again.

Jane turned. “Crenshaw, is the fly outside?”

“Yes, miss, just as you ordered.” Crenshaw was looking from Jarrett to Jane with some puzzlement and eying the gun fearfully.

“Good.” Jane backed toward the door.

Elisabeth moved abruptly. “Jane, take me with you. Do not do this thing.” She started toward her friend, but one of Crenshaw’s broad arms restrained her.

Jane paused, surveying her with hard eyes. “I’m honestly sorry for it, Elisabeth, for you have been generally kind to me. But it’s necessary.”

“Why?” cried Elisabeth.

“I must have my independence,” replied Jane. “And for that, I must have money. A great deal of money. This was my chance to get it. I shall go abroad, perhaps to Italy.” A faraway look came into her eyes. “I’ll travel for some time, then settle abroad. I’ll really write then.” She recovered herself. “Goodbye, Elisabeth, I’m sorry.”

“But Jane. I would have given you money, if you had asked,” said Elisabeth. “Indeed, I will, if you take me with you.”

Jane smiled tightly. “Everything is so easy for you, isn’t it? But I prefer to do this for myself. I will take the money, not receive it with meek gratitude. I’m sick of meekness.” And with this vehement statement, she backed out of the room, shut the door, and was gone.

Elisabeth heard quick footsteps, then the sound of a horse. She bowed her head a little, feeling terribly alone. She turned back to the fireplace, facing Mr. Jarrett. He smiled. “Well, Miss Elham,” he said, “won’t you sit down before the fire? You must be chilled. And we have a great deal to discuss.”