Page 117 of Enslaved
The woman looked startled. “Why, yes it is.”
“Well, as you can see, I already have one and unfortunately have no need of another. However, there’s an antique dealer in town who might give you as much as a hundred pounds for one of those medallions.”
The expectant lines of the woman’s face fell in disappointment. She had just walked four miles for nothing and would now have to return the same four miles into town, where she had left her sister safeguarding the treasure.
“Order the coach! The one without the crest,” Mark directed Mr. Burke the moment the door closed behind the woman. The Earl of Bath had no idea what lay ahead of him, but he was prepared for any eventuality. He went to his safe and took out money, then he opened a leather case and removed a pair of onyx-handled pistols. Now he realized why he had chosen black over ivory or silver. They looked so much more menacing. Black carried its own deadly authority. He chose a black cloak rather than a greatcoat, thankful that the winter chill had left the air.
When the closed carriage thundered past the woman who had visited the hall, Mark was amazed that she had already covered over two miles on foot. She was athletically built and he wondered curiously what she did for a living. She reminded him of a bath attendant.
His first stop was Dearden’s Antique Shop. The earl explained that the woman who had the half-coin for sale had paid him a visit and that he told her he wasn’t interested.
“I’m certain she’ll be back for the hundred pounds you offered her.” He counted out two hundred pounds and gave them to Dearden. “The other hundred is for your trouble.”
The Earl of Bath told his driver to wait for him at the Angel in Westgate Street, then he crossed the street and went into the tobacconist shop. He had no idea how long he would have to keep watch. The rich aroma of tobacco leaves permeated the air and he couldn’t resist selecting a mixture and having it rolled into cheroots. When the cigars were ready and the woman still had not put in an appearance, he schooled himself to patience and pondered a selection of cigar cases.
To his surprise, he saw two women who were almost identical approach the antique shop. By the time he had selected a cigar case and paid for his purchases, the sisters were leaving the shop. He watched them walk downhill toward the lower town, then he strolled across the street and retrieved Diana’s coin.
He followed the pair, keeping quite a distance between them and himself, knowing two women together would be difficult to lose. They went into a pastry shop and came out with a large box.
Already spending their ill-gotten gains,he thought cynically.
He watched them head straight for the Christopher Inn in High Street and knew they were going there to catch one of the coaches. A hundred questions came to mind. Was Diana staying with friends outside Bath? Had she asked the women to sell the coin for her because she had no money? The answers came back a resounding NO. Marcus had given it to her. It was the only thing she had been able to bring back with her. Mark knew it was so precious to her she would never voluntarily part with it.
He walked over to the Angel, two streets away, and told his coachman to go over to the Christopher and find out the women’s destination. The coachman came back with the information that they bought tickets to Chippenham. Mark swore. He had no jurisdiction outside Somerset.
“Coach doesn’t leave until five o’clock. There the two of ’em sit eatin’ cream cakes, fer gawd’s sake!”
“Might as well order some food; we might not get dinner tonight.”
“Pint of bitter, sir? Survilliance is thirsty work.”
When the coach left Bath, the sun was setting and they were able to stay well back. They had crossed the county border from Somerset into Wiltshire by twilight, but by the time they reached Chippenham at seven o’clock, it was full dark.
Mark Hardwick sat up on the box beside his driver. They followed the two women from the coaching inn for perhaps half a mile. The sisters were obviously nervous as they walked swiftly along the dark road for they looked over their shoulders a couple of times when they heard the coach and horses behind them.
The women turned into the long driveway of what looked like a Georgian mansion. Mark spoke very low to his driver. “When we turn in the driveway, they will start to run. They are carrying a hundred pounds and will think they are being robbed. I want to talk to both of them inside the coach. You catch the one on the right.”
The sisters, who thought they were safe this close to their destination, found out otherwise. They were strong women, who fought their assailants hard, but the Earl of Bath soon subdued his quarry, then helped his driver hustle her sister inside the coach. When Mark lit a carriage lamp, the woman who had been to Hardwick Hall gasped, “It’s the Earl of Bath!”
In the flickering shadows, his dark face looked menacing. When he spoke, his voice matched.
“I suspect the lady who owns the half-coin is within those walls. Am I correct?”
The sisters looked at each other with alarm.
“What is this place?” he demanded.
“Woodhaven Asylum.”
Christ, the bastards put her in an insane asylum. I never would have found her!
“Have you any idea how much trouble you are in? The lady in question is an abducted heiress. You two have stolen and sold a piece of her jewelery. I happen to be a justice of the county.” He knew they would have no idea that his authority did not reach into Wiltshire. He let them sweat for a few minutes, then he offered them a way out of their trouble.
“If you cooperate with me, I will see that you do not take the fall for the crimes that have been committed here.”
The sisters exchanged glances, then nodded their assent.
Mark handed one of his pistols to his driver. “Here’s a barking iron. Keep it on her until we get back.” He turned to her sister. “You will lead me to the lady, very quietly. Is there a back door?”
