In any way, Sir Arthur told himself, the maid was safe, her teeth were safe, and that was all that mattered, was it not? He could tell them that before they left, maybe, to give them something joyful for their joyless journey. And when they returned why, she would be still here, and everything might turn up capital. His mind, despite himself, turned then to darker things. His nephew Charles. The fear that Samuel could die seeking him, and William. Indeed, the maiden was a horrible irrelevance. It was right he had not told her, and he would not tell them neither, not at first.
He knew the instant they came in that he'd been preempted. The footman knocked, but that was the only nod to procedure that there was. Sam came first, and had a concerned expression plastered to his face, but the life and curiosity in their tread was all he needed. In the saddle many hours, long trips by river, hard interviews and they were lively as small boys. Sir Arthur felt quite old and tired.
"My dears," he said. "I am glad to see you home so quick and well."
"And we have permission," said Samuel. "We've had letters off Lord Wodderley and one of them's on board the Biter for Slack Dickie. Forgive us, sir but the maid? Tony says she has not lost her teeth! How did she come to be here? It is a marvel!"
"Aye, it is a marvel, it is a marvel, but Oh boys, he thought, so full of life, so full. And my poor Charlie Yorke. Will bowed.
"Forgive us, please, sir. It is only the surprise. The morning will do well enough, now she is safe. We will be leaving early as you know, but a minute before we go would be most excellent. Our journey was successful. I suppose there is no further news?"
Sir Arthur Fisher rang then for the man, and ordered him to bring the cold collations from the pantry, and hot tea, then some wine. He dismissed the subject of his missing nephew because, he said, it was now all in their hands and he could only wait, and was prepared to. He raised a twinkle in his eye for William, and told him all he knew of Deb's recapture and her flight. William affected cool and common human interest one of the King's subjects who had had some local problems but had overcome by luck and fortitude was his attitude but his reaction when Sir A mentioned her awful cuts and bruising gave him quite away.
The subject of Charles Yorke came up before they went to bed. There were horses ready, said their host, with saddlebags containing blankets, some basic iron rations, two pistols each, with shot and powder. In each a wallet, with both coin and notes, a not inconsiderable sum. Both demurred at this, but he flapped his hands at them and would not argue. It was theirs to spend on whatever need arose, he said. Food, shelter, buying information, bribes the money was of supreme un importance to him, its existence was solely to facilitate the achieving of an end.
"If you can do it without spending a groat, all well and good," he said. "If it costs me every groat I have, the case is just the same. Now to bed. And William the maid will wait!"
But Deborah did not wait. She slept fitfully, and woke up with a start of terror when she heard the sound of horses in the yard, and woke another girl who had been put in with her to keep her company. The second maid was heavy with sleep and tiredness, and most uninterested in supposed marauders, which was 'not the way in master's house', she said. Then she told Deb casually having no idea of its significance to her listener that perhaps the two young Navy men were back, who'd gone off that day but no one had known where. Her irritation at being further questioned had gone away when she remembered Deb had been first brought to Langham Lodge by Mr. Samuel and his friend, and she confirmed that these were the two who had been seeing master earlier, having ridden in 'all in a sweat'. The girl had wanted more talk on the subject then, but Deb, a little sore that Sir A and Mrs. Houghton had kept so mum, pretended no further interest or knowledge of them. But she lay there with her brain positively seething, straining her ears and all her other senses. If they were here, if Will was here, she was going to find him out. She knew it.
Another half an hour to be sure her bed companion slept, and Deborah, without a candle, with almost no light throughout the women's quarters, began her quest. Last time she'd gone from here she'd had Cec with her, clumsy and whimpering with pain, an awful liability. This time it was almost easy, she almost knew the place, she knew at least the doors she should avoid and where the stairways were. Clear of the quarters, on a lower floor, she needed luck, some sort of clue. Dressed all in white, and drifting into proper people's chambers, she might be taken for a ghost. More likely she would find Sir Arthur Fisher or (if her rooms were not on some servants' floor) the housekeeper, both of whom clearly wanted her to know her place and keep it. They would not take her for an unquiet walker of the night, but they would surely exorcise her, and double quick.
She had the luck. As she stood hovering at the end of a long, forbidding corridor, a latch clicked, and a door opened as she stepped into shadow, and Sam Holt emerged with a candle in his hand. He was fully dressed, and before he closed it, he said clearly through the door, "Till morrow, Will. God rest," then turned his back to her and took another door a good way further on. The passage dark once more, Deb stood stock-still for just one brief instant, afraid that she might change her mind, then almost ran, touched the latch, lifted it, and entered.
William was standing by the bed, a big one with a canopy, but he had his back to her.
"Back soon," he said, not turning. "What ha' you forgot?"
Deb opened her mouth, but found she could not speak. Will bent to fiddle with a boot, and grunted.
"Be useful, then. Give me a pull with this Ah, Christ! Deborah! Oh, Deb!"
They made a picture standing there, the maid in shadow but her nightgown glaring in the candlelight, the young man all agape. He was in breeches and an open shirt, and momentarily, he had balanced on one leg. He put his foot down to the floor, he opened out his hands, then dropped them to his sides.
"I'm sorry, sir," she said. "It was just They did not tell me. Am I
allowed?" "Fore God, Deb! Jesus, have you seen your face? God, what
have the villains done to you?"
He stepped towards her, and for a moment she tried to hide herself. Then she decided, and stepped forward strongly, lifted back her head. He flinched.
"Yes, I have seen it, it is mine," she said. "I am sorry if it offends you, but it's the only one I have. Look she bared her teeth, and snapped them like a dog. "I still have all my teeth."
They needed laughter, but neither one could laugh. But suddenly they could move together, and they were touching hands. Will gazed upon her face extremely closely, and neither of them shrank.
"Well, I am glad for that," he said, at last. "Deb, you are a walking wonder, how come you to be here? Sir A has told a tale indeed! Sam and me went to see the house, we wanted to break in but it's a fortress. I thought we were too late, that they would Oh Deb, you are a lovely sight!"
"Hah!" This was a shout of laughter, short but merry. "You only ever see me with a broken face, sir! This time a broken knee an' all, I had to hop off from them, and some pretty bruises underneath the gown! Dennett came for me, sir, the one you had to save us from before, he stole me out of Dr. Marigold's and killed poor Cec. But... but you say you went there, sir. What, to the magistrate's? How can that be? How come you here, for that? I thought it was Navy business you were on."
"Aye," said Will. "But afterwards. We looked to save you, Deb; we talked to Mrs. Margery, and came on hot-foot. The work downriver was sooner over than we thought, is all. We thought ... I thought ... well, instead of going to our duty we went to Marigold's."