Miss Sovay,’ he said. ‘And what led you to take up a life on the road?’
‘I did not do it for gold and silver.’ Sovay thought it better not to tell him about her unexpected find at the bottom of the wallet.
‘So you deprive some poor cove like me of a living!’ He laughed, then his expression became more serious. ‘Then why?’ He regarded her with curiosity. ‘Only a fool with a gallows wish would take up such a life for the thrill of it. I can’t think of a quicker way to get yourself hanged. And I think you no fool, Sovay.’
‘The first time, it was a private matter.’
‘And the other times?’
‘A different private matter.’
‘So did you find what you wanted? Did you settle this, ah, private matter to your satisfaction?’
‘As a matter of fact, yes. Although I fail to see what it has to do with you.’
‘That is where you are wrong. Whatever it is you took is valuable to someone. He wants it back badly. You would be advised to get rid of it as soon as you can. The roads are being watched, extra patrols are out, anything like that is bound to affect us all.’
‘How do you know? How does he . . .’
He shrugged. ‘News travels fast on the road. The individual in question has spies everywhere.’
Sovay had made an enemy. The same man who had sent the tipstaff to arrest her father, who had collected all the evidence against him. The hair prickled on her scalp at the thought of him turning his attention on to her.
‘Who is he?’ she asked.
Greenwood paused, as though considering whether it was wise to tell her, then he said, ‘His name is Dysart. He casts his net wide and has many in his pay, large and small. There will be a reward for information given.’
‘Is that why you are here? To rob me and claim the reward?’
‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘I have no liking for his kind. I was just curious, that’s all. Now, who knows of your disguise?’
‘Gabriel.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘The son of our Steward.’
‘Can he be trusted to keep quiet?’
‘He helped with the robbery.’
‘So we can presume yes, unless he wants to hang by your side. The fewer who know the better. Any more?’
Sovay thought hard. There was the American. She had almost forgotten that he knew. And now this highwayman. And the Gilmores. What had possessed her to hold up Sir Royston’s carriage? That was foolish. She had allowed her judgement to give way to recklessness. She could see the wisdom in the highwayman’s words. When she had first ridden out, she had not been seeking thrill or adventure, but she had become more and more enraptured by those very things. The excitement and danger had kindled emotions that she had never before experienced. She had never felt so alive as she did up on the heath, hearing the creak of the wheels, the snort of the horses as a coach drew nearer, seeing the surprise on the faces of those she confronted, knowing her own life could be over in an instant but sensing their fear was even greater. But she saw now that she had ventured into unknown regions. The ground was quaking beneath her, threatening to pull her down.
‘I assume you are going to London,’ the highwayman was saying. ‘I go that way myself. We should leave. Now.’ He parted the heavy curtains. ‘It is nearly dawn. The skies are clear. A fine morning, although it won’t last. We should be going before the inn is stirring.’ He stood to the side of the window and peered out. ‘There’s no knowing who may already be about.’
‘Why should I go with you?’ Sovay was still not sure that she should trust this man.
‘Why not? It is safer to ride with a companion. The road is a dangerous place. There are all sorts of bad characters on it. Surely you know that?’
He grinned at her, his teeth white in his tanned face. His strong, even features had just the right edge of rugged manliness and there was an insolent smile in his dark blue eyes. He was undoubtedly a handsome man and he knew his
‘I did not do it for gold and silver.’ Sovay thought it better not to tell him about her unexpected find at the bottom of the wallet.
‘So you deprive some poor cove like me of a living!’ He laughed, then his expression became more serious. ‘Then why?’ He regarded her with curiosity. ‘Only a fool with a gallows wish would take up such a life for the thrill of it. I can’t think of a quicker way to get yourself hanged. And I think you no fool, Sovay.’
‘The first time, it was a private matter.’
‘And the other times?’
‘A different private matter.’
‘So did you find what you wanted? Did you settle this, ah, private matter to your satisfaction?’
‘As a matter of fact, yes. Although I fail to see what it has to do with you.’
‘That is where you are wrong. Whatever it is you took is valuable to someone. He wants it back badly. You would be advised to get rid of it as soon as you can. The roads are being watched, extra patrols are out, anything like that is bound to affect us all.’
‘How do you know? How does he . . .’
He shrugged. ‘News travels fast on the road. The individual in question has spies everywhere.’
Sovay had made an enemy. The same man who had sent the tipstaff to arrest her father, who had collected all the evidence against him. The hair prickled on her scalp at the thought of him turning his attention on to her.
‘Who is he?’ she asked.
Greenwood paused, as though considering whether it was wise to tell her, then he said, ‘His name is Dysart. He casts his net wide and has many in his pay, large and small. There will be a reward for information given.’
‘Is that why you are here? To rob me and claim the reward?’
‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘I have no liking for his kind. I was just curious, that’s all. Now, who knows of your disguise?’
‘Gabriel.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘The son of our Steward.’
‘Can he be trusted to keep quiet?’
‘He helped with the robbery.’
‘So we can presume yes, unless he wants to hang by your side. The fewer who know the better. Any more?’
Sovay thought hard. There was the American. She had almost forgotten that he knew. And now this highwayman. And the Gilmores. What had possessed her to hold up Sir Royston’s carriage? That was foolish. She had allowed her judgement to give way to recklessness. She could see the wisdom in the highwayman’s words. When she had first ridden out, she had not been seeking thrill or adventure, but she had become more and more enraptured by those very things. The excitement and danger had kindled emotions that she had never before experienced. She had never felt so alive as she did up on the heath, hearing the creak of the wheels, the snort of the horses as a coach drew nearer, seeing the surprise on the faces of those she confronted, knowing her own life could be over in an instant but sensing their fear was even greater. But she saw now that she had ventured into unknown regions. The ground was quaking beneath her, threatening to pull her down.
‘I assume you are going to London,’ the highwayman was saying. ‘I go that way myself. We should leave. Now.’ He parted the heavy curtains. ‘It is nearly dawn. The skies are clear. A fine morning, although it won’t last. We should be going before the inn is stirring.’ He stood to the side of the window and peered out. ‘There’s no knowing who may already be about.’
‘Why should I go with you?’ Sovay was still not sure that she should trust this man.
‘Why not? It is safer to ride with a companion. The road is a dangerous place. There are all sorts of bad characters on it. Surely you know that?’
He grinned at her, his teeth white in his tanned face. His strong, even features had just the right edge of rugged manliness and there was an insolent smile in his dark blue eyes. He was undoubtedly a handsome man and he knew his
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