A Traitor's Touch. Helen Dickson

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      Chapter Two

      Henrietta’s eyes flashed defiance as she held Simon’s stare. There was a self-assurance about him which was unmarred by arrogance. It inspired her confidence and she relented.

      ‘You have my word that I shall not speak of what I overheard. I have my own reasons for remaining silent.’

      He nodded, satisfied. ‘That is all that I shall say on the matter.’

      ‘Thank you. When your friends turned up I was about to go on my way, but I was afraid of what you would do to me if you heard me.’

      ‘So if you aren’t a spy, what are you doing here?’ Simon demanded.

      She gave him a scowl that suggested he mind his own business, but then thought better of it. With four angry men glaring at her, she was in no position to argue. ‘I’m going to my uncle. I—I’ve moved out of the house of the people I was living with.’

      ‘Do they know where you are?’ Simon watched the youngster thoughtfully.

      ‘They’d turn over in their graves if they did,’ she answered quietly.

      ‘I see,’ Simon said, beginning to understand her plight. ‘And your uncle? Where does he live?’

      ‘In Scotland.’

      ‘That’s one hell of a journey for a lad to undertake alone.’

      ‘I have no choice. There—are reasons why I have to leave London.’

      ‘You make it sound like a matter of life or death.’

      ‘It is.’

      She shivered and sent a furtive glance over her shoulder, as though expecting something terrible to materialise out of the darkness, her gaze scanning the impenetrable blackness among the trees, cocking her head, as if listening for something, some far-off noise.

      Simon was sorely tempted to dismiss her remark as wild exaggeration, but by rights he could not do so unless he had a chance to delve into the matter. His gaze softened at the lad’s plight and he instantly suffered a pang of compassion. He couldn’t be any older than fifteen and he didn’t think he had known much kindness. He reminded him for all the world of some little prey animal, his preternatural senses alerted to the imperceptible sound of some fierce predator’s approach. His curiosity for this unfortunate youth was beginning to grow.

      ‘Do you have a name?’

      Henrietta squirmed uneasily and glanced around her.

      ‘You do have a name, don’t you?’ Simon enquired with a hint of sarcasm.

      A brief, reluctant nod gave him an affirmative answer. ‘Henry,’ she prevaricated evenly. ‘My name is Henry.’ There—her first lie. It wasn’t so bad.

      Fixing her eyes on the man’s face, she studied him as much as she was able in the moonlight. She had heard him say he was to go to Scotland. Hope surged up in her. He was on a mission—a dangerous one, too, if what she had heard was to be believed—and could not be too particular in the matter of formalities. For her, this meant safety, luck beyond hope which she could not afford to lose. If he were willing to take her with him, she was prepared to offer any service she was capable of giving—within reason, that was—in exchange for a helping hand.

      Henrietta became set on a course of action and, in spite of a very reasonable fear of rejection, she continued. She was on a tightrope with an obligation to move forward, not backwards. Having come this far, she had to speak the words she had rehearsed in her head.

      ‘Since you are to go to Scotland, will you take me with you?’ She had no qualms about making the request. She was desperate. Overwhelmed by a sense of her own audacity, she braced herself for rejection.

      Simon stared into her hope-filled eyes, thought of his vital secret mission, and let out a sigh. ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Absolutely not.’

      ‘But why?’

      ‘Because it’s a mad idea.’

      ‘No, it’s not.’

      ‘Yes, it is. I might be about to let you go, but I have no intention of playing nursemaid to a quick-tempered lad.’

      Undeterred, Henrietta took a step towards him, her chin jutting belligerently. ‘I’m past the stage of being in need of a nursemaid. I can take care of myself. You’re going to Scotland anyway—I heard you say so. At least if you take me with you, you’ll know your secret is safe.’

      His eyes narrowed on her expectant face. ‘That sounds like blackmail to me.’

      Henrietta allowed herself a smile. ‘Not really, but I suppose it must look like that from your position.’ Her smile faded. ‘I do know that the content of your discussion can be classed as a treasonous act for which all of you could be hanged if caught. But I don’t care who you are and what you are about is your business. All I know is that I stand a better chance of reaching Scotland unmolested if I do not travel alone.’

      Jack stepped forward, not at all happy about the lad’s suggestion. ‘Don’t be swayed, Simon. Think about it. Time is a luxury you can’t afford. The lad will hold you back.’

      ‘You’re right.’ He looked at the youth, his expression uncompromisingly hard. ‘As I said, it’s out of the question. I’ve important matters to take care of and I’ve no desire to saddle myself with a troublesome lad. Now away with you. Think yourself lucky we’re letting you go with your life.’

      * * *

      Henrietta went on her way across the heath, heading towards Highgate, feeling angry and mortified as well as bitterly disappointed. Everything that had happened to her seemed so improbable. She had, to be sure, a little money, but so very little it would not enable her to subsist for more than two weeks. She had her jewels, but they were not worth very much. Of sentimental value since the pearl necklace had been her mother’s and the rest given to her over time by Aunt Dorothy, she would be most reluctant to part with them.

      * * *

      It was way past dawn when she reached Hatfield, thankfully without mishap. Saddle-sore and starving hungry, there was a weariness in her eyes as she dismounted and pushed her woollen cloak back over СКАЧАТЬ