Page 25 of Weave me a Rope
“Andrew! What has happened!”
“Now, Cordelia, I am dealing with it,” said Uncle Josh.
“What has happened?” Cordelia repeated. “Andrew, sit down. You look exhausted.”
“He rode all night from Deercroft,” Uncle Josh explained. “They were found taking food to your earl, and Charles has been locked up. I’ve sent for Thompson, and we’ll be getting him out.”
Thompson was her uncle’s solicitor. But how was Spen? She turned her gaze to Andrew, who had collapsed back into his chair.
“They didn’t see me in the tree, miss,” he told her. “It was hours before I could get down, and then I hid and listened to find out what they’d done with Charles and the young earl.” He sighed and slumped still further. Cordelia held her breath. “They searched his lordship’s room and took the stuff we’d brought for him. Charles is shut up in a storeroom in the cellars. He isn’t hurt. Lord Spenhurst told them Charles was his servant and was just following orders. He reminded them he would be marquess himself one day. The man in charge said they’d better not do anything to Charles till the marquess gets home.”
“So, there you are, Dee,” Uncle Josh said. “Your young man is unharmed, but I need to get to Deercroft before the marquess. And before you ask, no, you are not coming with me.”
Cordelia was going to argue that point, but first, “Has someone ordered food and drink for Andrew, Uncle Josh? And ahot bath, I think. Andrew, you must have ridden non-stop from Deercroft.”
“Pretty much, Miss Milton,” the footman admitted, “but I’m going back. I have friends in the village who might help us.”
“You will go back fed and clean,” Cordelia decided, and went to make the arrangements.
Uncle Josh would not change his mind, and even told the servants and Aunt Eliza that his niece and his ward John were to stay at home in London until he returned. They took their instructions seriously, so she spent the next five days confined to the townhouse, with a maid and a footman or two following her and John everywhere, even into the garden.
She had little to do but worry and plan. There must be some way to get Spen out of his father’s hands. She and John discussed idea after idea, but all depended on help from inside the mansion and, though John assured Cordelia many of the servants were sympathetic, he also knew they were frightened of the marquess and would not defy him.
At last, Uncle Josh returned. The rescue had not succeeded but was not a complete failure. The local magistrate refused to demand the prisoner be handed over to him. However, he also took Andrew’s evidence and agreed Charles had a defense of charges of trespass since he was working for Lord Spenhurst, who lived on the property.
“He has told the marquess’s estate steward that Charles must be brought before him on charges within seven days or released. I’ve left my solicitor and several others to bring Charles home once he is free.”
“What of Lord Spenhurst?” Cordelia asked.
Uncle Josh shrugged. “The magistrate can do nothing, Dee-Dee. The marquess is the earl’s father and the earl is not of age. He has no right to object to anything his father does, and the lawcannot interfere. If it helps, as far as anyone knows, nothing has happened to him beyond being locked up.”
“Uncle Josh will do nothing to help,” she reported to John. “I am going to write to Andrew. I don’t want him to take any risks, but if there is a way to get a note to Spen, and even better, a note from him, we would worry less.”
“The stable boy might help,” John thought.
Cordelia was certain she could do more if she was just able to stay in the village. But how to make that happen? For a start, she would make no further demands for Spen’s rescue. She sought and received permission to show John some of the sights of London—escorted, of course. She accompanied Aunt Eliza on calls. She visited the modiste, though her appearance of compliance would have been destroyed had Aunt Eliza overheard her commissioning a special wardrobe.
Her chance came when Uncle Josh had to travel to Liverpool and Aunt Eliza succumbed to a cold.
Several days later, her plans were laid. “We will catch the mail coach that leaves at six in the morning,” she said. “We can stay overnight and return the next day. If I say we are staying with my friend Margotta while Aunt Eliza is sick, Uncle Josh will never know we have even gone.”
They did stay one night with Margotta, the daughter of another wealthy merchant. Cordelia had known Margotta all her life, though they had grown apart recently. Uncle Josh had insisted on Cordelia making her debut in the ton and Margotta had married a man of their own class. Her husband was heir to a mill owner, and Margotta had given him two sweet little children, a boy and a girl.
For the sake of their old friendship, she agreed to give Cordelia and John a room for the night. She even managed not to scold when she got up early to see her two visitors off to the mail coach and found Cordelia dressed in some of her newclothes from the modiste—a suit of clothing suitable for a young gentleman. With a cap on, Cordelia thought she made a fine boy. “Everything will be fine,” she assured her friend. “We will be back before you know it.”
Chapter Ten
Spen had finallymanaged to gouge a large enough groove in the sill. He slid the base of the bar into the room so that, with a bit of persuasion, it dropped down into his hands. He cleaned out the holes top and bottom so he could put the bar back up and take it out again, more easily this time. One bar wasn’t enough—he could get his head through, but the space was too small for his shoulders and chest, especially since he would be wriggling outwards over a fifty-foot drop. But if he could remove one bar, he could remove a second.
Things were looking up. His stash of food had run out, but he’d woven more rope and would soon have a ladder. Furthermore, Fielder had clearly decided to side with Spen as much as he could without disobeying a direct order, and that included putting extra food into each day’s single meal.
“You stand by those who work for you,” he explained. “Your man Charles? Some of the marquess’s men would have beaten and starved him because they could. The marquess wouldn’t have cared. He might have rewarded them. But they didn’t dare, because of what you said. And the servants who support you, my lord, made sure he was fed and cared for. Also, your friends from London are trying to get him released.”
Spen didn’t know for certain who had come from London to advocate for Charles, though he assumed Mr. Milton organizedit. They had not been immediately successful. The magistrate had not ordered the servants to turn Charles over.
However, he had made it clear Charles was to be treated well and turned over to the magistrate within seven days. If no orders arrived from the marquess in the meantime, the magistrate and the visitor’s solicitor would be back for Charles tomorrow, when the deadline was up.I hope their presence means Andrew got away,” Spen thought. It must do, for someone sounded the alarm. Besides, Fielder didn’t mention another captive.
Spen asked after the marchioness, who had been keeping to her rooms but whose maid reported she was as well as could be expected given the baby could arrive at any time. A doctor had been sent from London to take up residence. Poor lady. Shouldn’t she have a woman with her, as well? She had no living mother or sisters, but surely, she had friends?
