Moon Love Read online

“We’ll go the back way so we’re not seen on Church Road,” he said.

  No one else was in the meadow at night. It was quiet, save for the soft thud of their horses’ hooves and the companionable jingle of the harnesses. The moist air was soft against her cheeks, An occasional rustle in the grass spoke of night creatures going about their business. Overhead, the moon rode high, casting an eerie light on the grass. As they drew close to their destination, smoke from a bonfire wafted toward them. A dull glow in the darkness indicated its source. Ravencroft looked at Amy in alarm.

  “That’s not Ford’s place, it’s Gavin’s,” she said. She sniffed the air and wrinkled her nose. “Just burning kitchen garbage, from the smell of it.”

  “We should dismount now. We’ll leave the horses behind that thorn hedge.”

  They veered toward the hedge, followed by the two servants. Ravencroft dismounted first and went to assist Amy, who ignored him and hopped down from the other side. He swallowed down the spleen that rose to his throat, determined to behave like a gentleman.

  “I believe we should search the stable first,” he said, when he had walked around to join her.

  “They might leave the silk there. I doubt they’d leave the money, unless they have a man on guard. Don’t assume that if you see the crates, the money is inside.”

  “I take nothing for granted.”

  He struck out alone across the meadow with his head high, making no effort at concealment. But as Amy looked around, she saw there was no concealment once they were beyond the hedge. Perhaps walking in a normal fashion would look less suspicious than skulking, if anyone happened to be watching. Local pedestrians did take this short cut.

  Halfway across the meadow, he stopped and waited for her to catch up with him. “Amy, let us not go into this determined to make a fool of each other. We have to work together.”

  “I know what is important, Ravencroft. You needn’t treat me like a mindless female. I am not interested in making a fool of you. “

  “I know you are angry with me. I didn’t mean it as a slur on your courage or judgment when I suggested you stay behind. I was just concerned for your safety.”

  “Yes, I believe you. “

  “Then why are you angry with me?”

  Bereft of a reply that would not betray her innermost feelings, she said in an angry voice, “I’m not angry.”

  “Then you must be uncommonly worried, for you are not acting like yourself.”

  “Of course I am. And don’t you dare use the word ‘shrew’.” She saw the concern on his face when he looked at her and added, “I own I am a little worried. One would be a fool not to be.”

  He gave her hand a tight squeeze and said, “We’ll look out for each other.” Then he smiled an intimate, disarming smile and added in a gentle voice, “I would be – inconsolable if anything happened to you, my dear.”

  That simple speech cheered her immeasurably. Her heart swelled within her. She felt no harm could come to her when Ravencroft was looking out for her. The dangerous mission became an escapade. With Ravencroft at her side, she felt she could capture Napoleon himself.

  Ford’s house loomed before them, a dark, square hulk on the landscape, its corners softened by mist. One square of yellow light near the ground suggested the servants were in the kitchen. Spinks appeared from the shadows. “They’re still there. Just the two servants, playing cards in the kitchen. They’ve been drinking a fair bit of wine.”

  “Bosky?” Ravencroft asked.

  “A bit unsteady on their feet.”

  “Good. That makes our job easier. You drugged the dogs?”

  “They’ll not awaken till dawn.”

  “We start with the stable. You keep an eye out for company.”

  He slipped into the stable, followed by Amy, Glover and George, who carried the dark lantern. Amy found the stable colder than the air outside. She shivered as she looked about the cavernous, dark space, redolent with the pungent scent of horses. George raised the window of the lantern and flashed the light about the building. The silk cases were not in sight, but stacks of hay in two corners suggested possible places of concealment. Ford’s carriage was also there. He had ridden to the races.

  The team of carriage horses were in two of the dozen loose boxes that occupied one side of the barn. They whinnied in excitement but settled down when Ravencroft spoke soothingly to them. He listened a moment to make sure Ford’s servants didn’t come to investigate, then they began pulling the hay aside to look beneath.

  The familiar long, rectangular cases were there beneath the largest stack of hay, not very effectively hidden. Ravencroft counted them. Twenty-two of the twenty-three were still nailed closed. One was empty.

  “They’ve hidden the money in the house,” he said. “We’ll pry a couple of these open to make sure. “

  They didn’t have to look far for a tool. The crowbar used to open the one case was there, propped against the wall. George inserted the crow bar under the lid while Glover held the case down with his foot. The lid opened slowly with a squawk. A bolt of saffron silk shimmered in the lamplight. Ravencroft rifled through to the bottom, through ells of blue and green and scarlet.

  “Nothing here but silk,” he said.

  Then a second box was pried open. Green silk was on top, with bolts of other colors below, but again no money. “It will take too long to open all of these. The money’s in the house,” he said. “We’ll have to go in.”

  Amy, who had been quiet during the search, said, “Lure the servants out first. It will be easier to knock them out as they come out the door.”

  George and Glover looked to Ravencroft, who nodded his approval. As they went out of the stable, Spinks crept forth from the shadows to join them. Glover whispered to Spinks and George, Ravencroft drew Amy around the corner of the house, from where they could watch without being seen.

  “What are they going to do?” she asked.

  “Watch.” He put an arm around her waist and drew her snugly against his side. Unsure whether this was to protect her or a gesture of romance, she didn’t object. The human warmth felt good. He looked down at her with an impish, boyish grin that gave her an idea how he must have looked a few decades ago.

  She watched as George disappeared into the shadows. Glover threw his arm over Spinks’s narrow shoulder, they both threw their heads back and began to stagger in circles, singing “Green Grow the Rushes, Ho” off key at the top of their lungs. Spinks’s voice was high and wavering. Glover’s bass was firmer. Within thirty seconds the door opened and a head peeked out.

  “Quiet out there,” the man called. They sang louder. “Get along, before I set the dogs on you.” He whistled, but no dogs came rushing forward.

  Spinks looked at Glover. “I shay we mill the cove down,” he said in a slurred voice, and Glover lunged at the man, who hollered for help. Ford’s other servant came rushing out. Neither carried a gun. Both were unsteady on their feet. They threw themselves at Glover and Spinks, arms milling wildly. The drunken singers moved like quick silver. George came from the shadows brandishing his pistol and knocked them both on the head. Before Amy knew what was happening, the two men were flat on the ground, while Ravencroft watched in approval.

  “We should have brought rope to tie them up,” she said.

  Ravencroft lifted an eyebrow and said, “Amateur,” in a perfectly odious voice.

  Glover pulled a length of rope from his pocket. George produced a clasp knife. They cut the rope in two and tied the men up, while Spinks sauntered over to Ravencroft.

  “Better gag them. We don’t want them hollering when they come to,” he said. Ravencroft drew his handkerchief from his pocket. Spinks took it and Glover pulled a dotted Belcher kerchief from his throat to gag the other.

  “In the barn?” George asked.

  “Behind it. We don’t want Ford to see them, if he should come home early,” Glover replied.

  “Glover, you stand guard here, Spinks at the front,” Ravencroft said.
“We’re going into the house. “

  Spinks hurried around to the main road, brushing the dust from his jacket. George helped Glover drag the victims by the shoulders behind the barn. Glover took up his lookout position and George hurried into the house after the others.

  Ravencroft lifted a lamp from the kitchen table to lead the way. “If there’s a safe, it will probably be in the study,” he said. “I’ll have a look. George, you go upstairs and rifle the bedrooms.”

  “I’ll check the kitchen and pantry,” Amy said. “Let me light a lamp before you go.”

  Ravencroft lifted an eyebrow in playful astonishment. “Don’t tell me the formidable Miss Bratty is afraid of the dark.”

  “No, the formidable Miss Bratty can’t see in the dark.”

  “Strange, most felines can,” he murmured.

  Amy chose to ignore that taunt. She found another lamp in the scullery and lit it from Ravencroft’s before he left. She didn’t think she would find the forged currency in the kitchen and was sorry she had let Ravencroft take the study, but she made a thorough search, just in case, beginning with the larder.

  The money was not in the flour barrel or the pickle jar, the only two containers big enough to hold it. Between the number of black beetles scuttling between her boots and the telltale nibbled state of the uncovered cheese revealing the presence of mice in the larder, she did not linger long.

  The money was not behind any of the cupboard doors in the kitchen. It was not in the silver cupboard in the butler’s pantry, which was left unlocked, perhaps because the knives and forks and spoons there were made of tin. It was not concealed behind the scanty supply of dining room linen in the linen cupboard, and it was not in the long sideboard where food was kept warm. It was not hidden under the table. She could find no other spot large enough to hold the contents of one of those long silk cases.

  She was about to begin on the drawing room when she heard a tap at the back door. She froze, with her heart slamming in her throat, and had to tell herself sternly that it was only Glover. She hastened to the back door to see Spinks, his eyes wide with excitement.

  “Someone’s just turned off the main road, coming up the drive,” he said. “Three men on horseback. Must be Ford and his boys. You’d best all clear out, pronto.”

  She stood rigid a moment, then said, “Yes, I’ll tell them.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Amy flew to the study. It was in darkness, Ravencroft didn’t answer when she called. She ran upstairs, saw a light at one bedroom doorway and darted in to find Ravencroft and George bundling a large quantity of bills into a blanket.

  George looked up, grinning. “It was in the clothespress,” he announced.

  “Someone’s coming,” she cried. “Three men, mounted.”

  “All right. Get out, fast,” Ravencroft said. But he didn’t stop what he was doing.

  “Come on,” she called, her voice edged in panic.

  “Open the window, George,” Ravencroft said calmly, “And you, Amy, get the hell out of here. Now!”

  “You’d best go on, Miss,” George said.

  “Are you mad! They’re coming I”

  “Go.” Ravencroft thundered. She turned and ran downstairs. Obviously Ravencroft and George planned to throw the money out the window and jump out after it. She preferred to take her chances with the door. Ford and his friends would ride around to the barn to stable their nags and enter the house by the back door. She would leave by the front.

  She went to the drawing room window to see if they had passed yet. Seeing no one, she assumed they were on their way to the stable. She had to set her lamp down to fumble a moment with the door lock. She drew it open and darted outside, quietly closing the door behind her. In the darkness she stood a moment, trying to decide what to do. It was not until she was out that she remembered the lighted lamp she had left behind to warn them they had had company.

  No matter, tending to the horses would delay them a few moments. Ravencroft and George should have plenty of time to get out the window. She ran around the house, trying to figure out which window they would come out of. A lighted window at the east front of the house seemed the right location. She waited, ready to rush forward and help them if they sprained an ankle in their leap.

  As she watched, the light was extinguished.

  In the darkened room, Ravencroft whispered to George, “They’re coming. Close the door, quietly. If you have to shoot, don’t shoot to kill. With the element of surprise on our side, we shouldn’t have any trouble.”

  They took up positions in the dark room, Ravencroft on one side of the door, George on the other, listening as heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs.

  “I tell you, somebody’s been here,” Ford complained. “We didn’t leave a kitchen lamp at the front door. And where the deuce are the servants?”

  Ravencroft figured Amy must have left the lamp behind when she sheered off and was glad she was safely out of it. The door was thrown open. He waited until the three men were in the room and Ford had lit the lamp before he made his move.

  Then he stepped out from behind them, the muzzle of his gun pointed at Ford’s broad stomach and said quietly, “It’s over, Ford. I have men at every entrance. Let us not make a fuss. I would prefer not to kill you. George, if you will be so kind as to take their pistols.”

  “We’re not armed,” Ford said.

  George patted their pockets, drew a gun from Ford’s and smiled broadly. .”It’s Lord Ashworth’s,” he said. “The one Kirby took from – “

  Ravencroft spoke up quickly, before Miss Bratty’s name was mentioned. “Just toss it on the desk.” George realized his near error and did as he was told.

  “Tie their hands behind their backs,” Ravencroft directed. George looked around for a rope. Finding none, he pulled the ties from the curtains and bound their hands behind their backs, while Ravencroft held the gun on them. Ford’s two cohorts, Jermyn and Saxton, were frightened into staring silence.

  Ford blustered loudly. “What the devil are you after, eh? My member of parliament will hear about this! It’s an outrage, breaking into a gentleman’s home, threatening him.”

  “Stealing his forged currency,” Ravencroft added, with a menacing smile. “Don’t worry, all of parliament will hear about it. You will be infamous throughout the land,”

  “You won’t get away with this, Stanford. I have friends in high places.”

  “But they are in France, n’est-ce pas?” He spun Ford around by the shoulder, pushed the gun into his back and said, “Walk.”

  George directed Jermyn and Saxton into line behind Ford. Ravencroft and George followed the three men down the stairs, through the house to the back door, breathing a sigh of relief that all had gone smoothly. Glover and Spinks could help get this trio to the round house to cool their heels until Fitz could be notified. The crew would be taken to London under armed guard to stand trial as traitors.

  When they reached the door, Ravencroft said, “George, would you mind?”

  George leapt forward and threw the door wide open. He sensed a movement in the shadows, lifted his lantern and there stood Felix Bratty with a smile of triumph on his handsome, stupid face.

  “By the living jingo!” Felix exclaimed, “What are you up to, eh, Ravencroft?” As he spoke, he raised his hand, pointing a pistol at Lord Ravencroft.

  Ravencroft was momentarily stunned to silence. Felix Bratty! He couldn’t believe it. So his stupidity was an act!

  Within the blink of an eye, Ravencroft raised his own pistol, not wanting to kill Bratty, but just to wing him in the upper arm and make him drop his gun. He clenched his jaw and pulled the trigger just as Ford, sensing a chance to escape, made a bolt for freedom. He jarred Ravencroft’s arm. The bullet veered wildly to the left, toward Felix’s heart. Felix stared at him with confused, accusing eyes and a look of utter incredulity on his face.

  That one look was enough to tell Ravencroft he had made a hideous mistake. Bratty hadn’t int
entionally aimed his pistol at him. He hadn’t come to help Ford, he had merely blundered in at the worst possible moment. He clutched his arm and fell to the ground in a faint. George went after Ford and hauled him back. Glover and Spinks, alerted by the gun shot, came darting forward to help.

  Amy, who had been lurking uncertainly in the shadows, also came running forth. She saw her cousin on the ground, saw Ravencroft’s gun in his hand, saw the ravaged look on his face and cried, “Good God, you’ve killed Felix.’“ She rushed forward and fell on her knees beside her cousin.

  Felix opened his eyes and blinked. “He’s mad, Amy,” he whispered, “A raving lunatic. I came to help him! Don’t leave me! He’ll kill me.”

  Amy turned on Ravencroft like a virago, “Why did you shoot him?”

  “He aimed his gun at me! How was I to know?” He took a glance, and saw that no significant amount of blood was staining Bratty’s jacket. He thanked God that the blood was on the sleeve, not over the heart. “Get him home and call a sawbones,” he said gruffly, to hide his shame.

  After a brief discussion, George was assigned the job of getting Felix and Amy home, while Ravencroft and his servants took the criminals to the round house in Ford’s carriage. They brought the blanket holding the forged money along, but left Ford’s servants tied up behind the barn for the constable to deal with.

  By the time the three reached Bratty Hall, Felix had been told of the night’s doings. George assisted him into the morning parlor and ran for hot water, bandages and basilicum powder. When Felix’s jacket was removed and the wound examined, it was seen not to be serious. The bullet was not imbedded in his arm. Amy bathed it and applied the basilicum powder and a bandage. As she worked, Felix expatiated on his part in the night’s affair.

  “And you still haven’t told me why you’re dressed like a rat catcher,” he said, frowning at Amy’s rags as he slid his arms into a gaudy silk dressing gown that George had brought down for him.

  “I didn’t want to soil my good gown,” she said vaguely, and hurried on with another question to distract him. “How did you come to be there, Felix?”