Chapter 110

The birdsong, the breeze stirring Splendor's hair, even the continuous, slow, jolting of the cart barely penetrated her consciousness.
"When all's said and done, it beats old woman Hanney's. Beats sittin' in this wreck, now Gabe's gone and left us flat. Unless yer wants me going back ter stealing? I mean I could, I suppose."
As Topaz studied the rotting fence posts at the sides of the ditch, as if they were next for pocketing, Splendor fought to bite her tongue. Topaz had never stopped.
"Oih take it when you use that word wreck, yor meaning some other vehicle an' not Clitherow's fine lookin' trap." O'Taggart clicked his tongue.
"Long as I ain't meanin' yer bleedin', bloody trap, what does it bleedin' matter?"
Splendor smothered a shriek as O'Taggart brought the whip down on the nag's back as if he wished it were Topaz's. The jolt sent them both flying upward, then down onto the wooden plank, straddling the cart.
"That's it. That's it, me old cuddy. Take yor time, me faithful nag, and you'll soon get there."
"It's taken three hours to travel two miles," Stillmore growled, nudging his black gelding closer. "Do you think you could possibly hurry it along? I should like to be at Catterton House sometime this week if that's not a trouble to you."
"You are not the only one, sor. But Clitherow will only do as Clitherow can do. She doesn't take kindly to complaints."
"That's a pity when the list is ten yards long."
"And Oih must say, Oih don't either."
"Then that makes two of us. Three if that blasted nag doesn't fall down dead first."
"Pity 'e wouldn't do the bleedin' same." Topaz smoothed her cape shut. "'Ow rich would that make yer?"
"If I had married him. But I didn't."
"So 'ow the bleedin' 'ell does he think 'e can get the divorce courts ter agree ter a divorce then? Commit 'igh treason?"
Somehow she managed to cinch her lips.
"If I agree, he's going to say the parson was not ordained."
"Thing is, I don't know why yer agreed."
She didn't answer, and Topaz continued. "Look, we got 'is watch, we could pawn it. There's plenty more where that come from."
"And that's the problem. If you'd left it where it came from ... " She lowered her voice. Horses had ears. Their masters too.
"But it were pretty."
"Will you stop it?"
Pray God, Stillmore took her screech as one of agony as the cart lurched over another stone, almost catapulting her onto the floor. In truth, she felt like screeching, screeching to the high heavens. What was it Papa always said, especially during these first days in the Marshalsea? 'Nothing is ever so far beyond your reach, you should worry about it.'
"And I still don't see why yer agreed ter it," Topaz whispered.
"I told you I never agreed straight off. All right?"
She was not going to tell Topaz about the business with Lady Kertouche. She'd sooner cut off her hand. Papa had said that too. 'Just tell people as much as they need to hear and will make you feel better.' She sighed.
"But if you must know it was because I didn't see how the bloody hell else I was to get you out of there with your picture all over the walls."
"Well, maybe if yer'adn't put me in the bleedin' cart in the first place, yer wouldn't have had ter."
"Well, I did. Right?"
"Yer said it were only one picture."
"However many it was, the ten thousand pounds has been replaced by three months. That's it now. Even before I didn't agree and then did, we didn't have a lot of choice."
"Always got choices, Splen."
"You think? I had seen that much. There was no point being stupid about it. We looked better leaving with him. It's called sailing along with the enemy's fleet. Let's face, it if he had recognized you from that that picture, and we'd gone, what do you think he'd have done?"
"But if 'e did, given 'e were there with us, where do yer think that would 'ave-"
"We can't afford to be so brazen. Besides, he needs me to make that Langley woman jealous."
She took a deep breath. Could the specter of this mess she had landed herself in, the one lying on her skin like a dark pattern be turned to success in three months? And what kind of damn fool wanted to turn her back on balls and parties? Despite everything, Stillmore was taking her to London. He would be when the cart jolted back off this rickety stony path Mr. O'Taggart, or maybe it was Clitherow, had mistakenly followed, anyway. It could not all be lost, all her bright dreams and plans.
Stillmore had laughed at her. The sound was so alien, she'd nearly fallen down in shock. And he'd said the most startling thing. 'If you want me to say last night was extraordinary, then I will. I'm not a bad man. I just ...Well, it's your move. Your choice.' She could see he was desperate about that Langley woman.
"But Splen ... "
"You well know what me and Gabe planned all these years. We planned on opening a place, a place where this kind of behavior would stop."
"Whot behavior?"
"You well know what kind. Now please, just hush up. About this. About everything. I'm going to go stay with Stillmore in London. I refuse not to take something from this situation when he wants to make Langley jealous. And you? Well, we'll get to you later."
She had so much on her plate. An inedible banquet. She needed to find a place for Topaz immediately. It was one thing brazening it out about her not being a Starkadder Sister, another if she nicked half the household silver and stashed it beneath her frock.
"So, for now, let's just concentrate-"
"Is that it there?"
"What?"
"That place? Only I can't read that sign there. See? But I reckon it's ter do wif that 'ouse."
Splendor jerked her chin up. "Oh, I don't think-"
House? Sign? There was but one of each that she could see, clinging for dear life to her seat in the hope her spine would not be irrevocably damaged. The house crouched in the distance, stark white against a swirling seascape. Very nicely too.
Indeed, had she still nourished that perished dream she'd just spoken of, of her and Gabe having their own place, this was exactly what it would have looked like. All clean, cream and white lines and pretty windows, especially the trio in the small tower above the front door.
The sign? The sign was wrong. The letters C.A.T. leaped off the oval board swinging in the wind and hit her in the stomach, long before she got to the N.
Catterton.
It couldn't be Catterton? Catterton was in London. Not here among the fields, sheep, and things.
This was a mistake. But what if it wasn't?
That day she'd been given his address, no one had actually said Catterton House.
He meant her to live here instead of London? While that Langley woman reigned supreme? And her star sunk beneath the horizon?
Over her dead body.
If this was his idea of keeping her hidden, he could forget it.
She would die before she set foot out of this cart.