“Our falling in love was never part of my plan, neither was marriage, children and our life together, and to be honest, if I could go back and change it, I wouldn’t. No our marriage is exactly what you believe it to be.”
He smiled, squeezing my hand.
“I’m not sure how I should feel. I suppose feeling relieved wasn’t expected?”
“Relieved?” I asked, surprised, once more.
“Jane, is that your name?”
“It is for this life,” I said, smiling sadly.
“Then Jane, you are larger than life, bigger and better than everything around you. I could never quite see how you fitted in, and this explains things. I was just so pleased you came into my life and wanted to stay, I never said anything. Actually, it doesn’t explain things, for I do not fully understand what you have told me. I’m not sure that I want to, but I do trust you, and I thank you for being honest. That honesty is obviously for a purpose, for you didn’t have to tell me unless you need my help. How can I help you?”
“I need reinforcements, so do you mind if I deputise your regiment?”
“On one condition?”
“Yes?”
“You get me in command.”
I kissed him.
“Agreed,” I said, as we looked at the map together.
CHAPTER TEN
Closure
It was with some trepidation that I made my way towards the coaching offices the following morning. I hoped that Roger was at this moment moving his men into position, so I forced myself to trust him. It was essential that I appear an unsuspicious as possible, so I was alone, carrying a small bag only, and met Soames as agreed just outside.
I was tired, as we had been up all night, but not as tired as many under the same conditions. Actually, I felt great, as my body seemed to relish the burst of adrenaline that was coursing through it with the anticipation of action.
Indeed, I felt akin to how I recalled feeling just prior to a military operation in the twentieth century, but at least I didn’t have to jump out of an aircraft over hostile territory.
The hostiles were out there somewhere, so I felt pleased that my revolver was strapped in a holster under my voluminous dress.
“Frost, he’s already here,” Soames said, looking and behaving like a conspirator.
“Where?”
“In the waiting room. There’s only another woman there, so you can’t miss him.”
Nodding, I entered the office. Soames didn’t follow me, for obvious reasons.
The waiting room was a barren square room, with plain wooden benches along two walls. There was a hatch into the next room on one wall, and the door through which I had entered on the fourth. I made my way over to the hatch, to see a busy clerk in the father room, so I glanced round at the other occupants of the waiting room.
The woman was middle-aged and overweight, dressed in widow’s black, including a black bonnet. She sat next to a large trunk and three smaller bags. She looked up at me, expectantly, but looked away when she didn’t recognise me. She looked rather miserable, and I guessed she was waiting for a companion.
The other occupant was tall man in his late thirties. He didn’t look at me, as he had his hat over his eyes and was pretending to be asleep. His breathing was not deep enough for sleep, and he appeared tense. Dressed in a green coat, breeches and scuffed boots, he was nondescript in appearance. I had yet to see his face.
I waited for the clerk. He had my booking, so acknowledged my payment and asked me to sit.
“The coach will be here in five minutes, ma’am,” he said.
Thanking him, I simply sat down along the bench from the woman, where I could keep an eye on the man I thought was Frost.
The coach arrived a few moments later. It was a solid affair, with rudimentary springs and a pair of horses coupled to the shaft. It was not designed for speed or extreme comfort, but it looked as if it might get us to the destination, eventually.
Various helpers appeared to stow the luggage on the roof, which was then wrapped in a tarpaulin. The coachman placed a small stool by the door and helped us in. I sat next to the woman while Frost sat opposite me. At the last minute, another man appeared. Breathless and sweaty, he sat down next to Frost. Judging by Frost’s reaction, this was not anticipated.
“Boy; nearly didn’t make it,” said the newcomer, with a smile as he wiped his brow with a large white handkerchief.
“I’m Augustus Brown,” he said. “Gus to my friends.”
He insisted in shaking hands with us all.
Frost introduced himself as Michael Fox, which made me smile. Augustus Brown’s arrival forced us all to share a little of ourselves with each other by way of introductions. The lady was Marjorie Struebens, recently widowed and travelling to stay with her sister some one hundred and twenty miles away in Harrisonburg.
“I’m Mrs Jane Fonda, travelling to join my husband in Indiana.”
Frost’s eyes narrowed slightly, while the others didn’t react at all.
I settled down and reviewed what I knew.
Roger and I had poured over the map for a long time, working out the most appropriate place that was close to the river and would support an ambush best. The map wasn’t ideal, and Roger had told me that we should have had more time so as to scout out the land before the event.
“We have until tomorrow morning,” I had told him.
“Then we must only make our best guess,” he said, and that is what took almost all night.
The roads around Washington were reasonable, for the time, but it didn’t last. Very soon, we were bumping our way on a country track, being jolted hither and thither. I estimated that the ambush would take place when we were about a half hour out of the town, so as we went past that time, I began to worry.
It was a relief when it finally happened, for any longer and I’d be too far from my reinforcements.
The coach started to slow, and then amid much curses and swearing from the coachman, we pulled up to a halt.
“What are you playing at, this is the mail coach?” he shouted.
The reply was a single shot fired above his head. I looked out the window to see two men on horseback and with pistols drawn. It was like something from the movies.
I felt the cold steel of a knife at my throat.
“Out you get, your ladyship, and not a squeak, if you please. I’d hate to cut your pretty neck!” Frost had a knife to my neck, millimetres from my jugular.
I stepped out of the carriage, but as I did so, Augustus decided to play the hero, and started to intervene. Frost simply kicked the man in the chest, so he fell backwards, hitting his head on the wooden frame.
“Keep quiet and no one gets hurt,” he said, just as he pushed me from the carriage.
“Is she armed?” said a voice I recognised. Knowing his background, I could just hear the vestiges of his original French accent, although his time in England has obviously dulled it somewhat.
“Monsieur Armes, quel surprise,” I said, which disarmed him. I glanced at the third man.
“Mr Soames, it seems you chose which side you wanted to be on?” I said.
He said nothing, just sat on his horse holding a pistol. I thought he looked very uncertain of himself.
Suddenly, a coarse jute bag was thrust over my head, and I felt cord being wrapped around me. My arms were pinned by my side, so I could do nothing.
I felt myself being man-handled onto the back of a cart, and then movement as the cart was driven away. I assumed the conspirators left a note or message with the coachman.
Frost must have been driving the cart, for I could hear two sets of outriders, presumably Soames and Armes. My acute hearing caught a little of the exchange between the two riders.
“She didn’t seem surprised to see us,” Armes remarked. “Are you sure we can trust you?”