Twenty-eight

The day passed very slowly for Elisabeth in the cramped inn parlor. She had nothing to do, and soon boredom was added to her other preoccupations. Once, she opened the parlor door slightly and peered into the hall. Mr. Crenshaw was sitting there in the battered wooden straight chair. “Good afternoon, miss,” he said when she looked out. “Was you wanting anything?”

“I…I should like another cup of tea,” answered Elisabeth uncertainly.

“Yes indeed, miss. I’ll get that for you as soon as Mr. Jarrett comes back.”

“Has he gone?” inquired the girl eagerly.

“Bless me, no. He wouldn’t leave you, never fear. He’s just upstairs packing his gear.”

“Oh,” said Elisabeth, and she retreated to the sofa once more.

When her tea had come, and she had drunk it, and she had paced before the fire for some time, there was still nothing to do. Jarrett didn’t approach her throughout the long afternoon, and this made her partly grateful and partly impatient. She didn’t wish to see him, but she longed to do something about her situation, and as long as he was absent, she couldn’t argue him out of his foolhardy plan.

She sat on the sofa, gazing blankly into the fire, and thought of the duchess. How was she to prevent her secret from being revealed if she didn’t marry Jarrett? As she would never do, she thought fiercely to herself. Let him do his worst, she would never reward him with her fortune.

The rain finally stopped about four o’clock, but the sky remained overcast and dark. Elisabeth had tried the window several more times, once seeking to pry it open with a teaspoon. In any other circumstances, she would have laughed at herself for this ridiculous gesture, but she was in no mood for laughter now. At about four thirty, Jarrett entered the parlor once more. He had changed into traveling dress and was carrying a dark garment over his arm.

He nodded to her. “I think we can prepare to go,” he said. “The day is so dark that we needn’t wait for sunset. Here is a cloak; you’ll need it. It’s gotten even colder.” He held out the wrap.

Elisabeth made no move to take it. She stood with her back to the fire and spoke quickly and urgently. “Mr. Jarrett. I’ve done a great deal of thinking as I sat here today. As you meant me to, perhaps. I cannot believe you really will do what you’ve threatened. But I’ve decided to offer you a ransom in spite of that.” She stood very straight and tried to make her voice as resolute as possible. “I will arrange for an annuity to be paid to you. We can settle on certain guarantees that will assure you of payment. Your life will be comfortable, your need for money satisfied, but we needn’t continue this ridiculous charade of kidnapping.”

Jarrett had been listening with an admiring expression on his face. “You’re not one to be intimidated, are you? Many females would have dissolved in a fit of hysterics by now, but you hold up marvelously.”

Encouraged, Elisabeth continued. “We would also agree that you would not reveal the things you have discovered, of course, and that you would not remain in London.”

Jarrett laughed. “No, no. Your scheme is unworkable. Don’t you think I considered mere blackmail? I thought of the duchess immediately, of course. She can and would pay me a great deal more than you. But it will not do. I’m tired and soon will be past my youth. I’ve had enough. I want to settle down and cease worrying about the future. Neither of you would give me enough to do that, and in any case, blackmail is a very uncertain kind of income. Indeed, you don’t really understand what you propose. Once you admit a blackmailer into your life, you’re never free again. Who knows but what I might make new demands from, say, the new Viscountess Larenby, in future. A change of your state could alter my mind on the subject.”

Elisabeth’s cheeks reddened, and Jarrett nodded. “Yes. And I might go to the duchess, as well, to increase my take. You’d never be secure. Take my word; I know of what I speak.” For a moment, his expression was black, then he smiled at Elisabeth once more. “No, I’ve considered well, and my plan is best. We’ll deal very well together, I promise you. Now, put this on, and let us go.” His tone was commanding, and he held out the cloak once more. Elisabeth still hesitated, but he forced it into her hands with a curt, “Come along,” and left the room again.

Elisabeth remained before the fire, her shoulders slumped. She was trapped, it seemed. But as she nearly gave in to the urge to burst into tears, she shook herself sharply. Nothing was lost as yet, she told herself. There might be many opportunities for escape before even this day was ended. Jarrett couldn’t keep her still in an innyard, for example. She would cry out for help to the first person she saw. Elisabeth straightened and put on the cloak, her expression stony. They’d see who came out of this the loser.

Jarrett came back, startling Elisabeth so that she jumped. He took no notice, merely saying, “Come along.”

They went down the hall to the door of the inn and the chaise waiting outside. The driver didn’t look around as Elisabeth emerged. She surveyed him speculatively.

As if reading her mind, Jarrett said, “The driver is my man.” He grasped Elisabeth’s elbow firmly and urged her to climb into the vehicle.

The girl hesitated. More than anything in the world, she wished to keep out of that coach. Giving in to impulse, she jerked her arm out of Jarrett’s grip and tried to run away down the muddy road. But before she had gone three yards, he was upon her, grasping her waist and forcing her back to the carriage.

“Come, come,” he said with infuriating amusement. “You mustn’t be foolish.” Pulling open the door of the chaise, he pushed her up the steps and into it. In a moment, he climbed in beside her, gave the driver the order to start, and the vehicle was moving.