The Ragged Heiress Page 5

  There was just one flaw in this plan – Papa had forbidden her to leave the consulate. She must catch him before he left on his next buying expedition, and apologise humbly for her bad behaviour. Despite his gruff manner, she knew that she could wrap Pa round her little finger if she tried, and she was genuinely sorry for causing him so much distress. Perhaps she could persuade him that she was in desperate need of a new riding hat and crop as hers had been taken from her at the temple, and these could be purchased in Denpasar. He might have threatened to stop her allowance but no one could accuse Pa of being mean, and a hat was an absolute necessity in this climate. If he agreed to her request she would take Naomi as chaperone and it couldn’t be too far from the town to Benoa harbour where she was sure to find the Caroline. It was a simple plan and hopefully foolproof.

  ‘Mr Froy left for the other side of the island shortly before daybreak, miss.’ Jackson, Sir John’s English butler, stared at a point just above Lucetta’s shoulder. ‘I believe a consignment of teakwood furniture has come to grief at the bottom of a ravine.’

  ‘Do you know when he is expected to return?’ Lucetta asked, assuming an innocent air and trying hard not to look pleased by the unexpected reprieve.

  ‘No, miss.’

  ‘Is Sir John at home?’

  ‘No, miss. Sir John has gone to Lombok on official business and Lady Boothby is at the hospital, as is her custom on this day of the week.’

  ‘And my mother?’

  ‘Is in her room. She is not to be disturbed.’

  ‘Thank you, Jackson.’ Lucetta could hardly believe her good luck. She watched Jackson as he stalked off towards the servants’ quarters with an irritated hunch of his shoulders. She knew that he did not approve of her, or her nouveau riche parents, but she did not care. Today nothing was going to upset her. This was the beginning of the rest of her life and that life included Samuel Cutler.

  She hurried back to her room where Naomi was clearing the breakfast things and a maid was mopping the wet floor.

  ‘Leave that, Naomi,’ Lucetta said, taking the tray from her hands and thrusting it at the astonished maidservant. ‘Please tell the girl to take it back to the kitchen. You and I are going to Denpasar.’

  Lucetta shooed the maid out of the room, closing the door behind her. ‘Denpasar,’ she repeated, pointing to Naomi and then to herself. ‘You and me. We go to Denpasar now, this minute. No time to lose.’ Without waiting for a response, she went to the heavily carved wardrobe and selected a straw bonnet with blue ribbons that exactly matched the shade of her eyes, and a lace shawl. Her fingers shook with excitement as she put the bonnet on her head and tied the ribbons in a jaunty bow just below her left ear. She draped the shawl around her shoulders and made for the door, but then she realised that Naomi was standing like a statue in the middle of the room. ‘What’s the matter? Don’t look so scared. We’re only going to Denpasar, not the moon.’

  Naomi shook her head. ‘Tan, missy. Tan.’

  Lucetta understood enough Balinese to know that this was a point blank refusal. She could hardly drag the unwilling maid all the way to the docks and there was no one else whom she could trust to accompany her without reporting to Jackson. She would just have to go alone.

  In the stables, the head groom met her request with a firm refusal. Sir John and Lady Boothby had taken both carriages and he had strict instructions that Missy should not ride out alone. Lucetta tried everything but no amount of wheedling could make him change his mind, and she was forced to retreat, temporarily beaten. Reluctantly, she returned to her room, pacing the floor and racking her brains for a solution to her problem. She took off her bonnet and tossed it onto a chair where a length of songket, a beautiful fabric used for ceremonial sarongs, had been left to await the dressmaker who was supposed to be coming later that morning in order to take her measurements. The delicate material interwoven with gold thread would make a stunning evening gown, but suddenly Lucetta had another use for it.

  She fumbled with the tiny fabric-covered buttons at the back of her morning gown and stepped out of the crinoline cage, allowing it to glide to the floor. Taking a white cotton blouse from her wardrobe she put it on and then, copying the manner of dress of the Balinese women, she wrapped the length of cloth around her body to form a sarong. She studied her reflection in the cheval mirror, but to her chagrin she looked like a young English girl in fancy dress. With her pale complexion and silver-blonde hair she would never pass as a local girl. She rummaged feverishly in the cedar chest and found a long, multi-coloured silk scarf which she wound around her head. The result was far from convincing, but, she reasoned, who would give her a second glance? If she kept her head down and stuck to the shade of the pandanus and palm trees, who would notice yet another village girl hurrying to market in Denpasar?

  Slipping out of the consulate grounds was easier than she anticipated. The gatekeeper was busy raking the gravel and the rest of the servants were going about their daily tasks. No one gave her a second glance as she left the compound. She crossed the dusty road and set off in the direction of the town, but she had no idea how far it was. It had only seemed a short carriage ride from the harbour to the consulate, but she soon found that walking in the heat of the day was a very different proposition from being driven in the consul’s well-sprung landau. Within minutes she was hot and thirsty and cursing herself for not thinking of equipping herself with a water bottle. She had some coins tucked into her bodice for emergencies and with luck she might come across a wayside vendor selling coconut milk. As the sun rose in the cloudless sky the heat became even more intense; far hotter than she could have imagined when confined to the marble coolness of the consulate or the shady gardens.

  A cloud of dust in the distance and the muffled sound of horses’ hooves was enough to send her stumbling for cover into the thick undergrowth at the side of the road. The riders went past at a spanking pace, throwing up miniature dust storms. Choking and covering her face with her hands, Lucetta backed further into the tangle of pandanus roots and oleander bushes. She did not hear the snap of a twig or realise that there was someone else hiding in the undergrowth until a rough hand clamped over her mouth, and strong arms lifted her off her feet. She fought and kicked but she was powerless to save herself from being dragged deeper and deeper into the bush.

  Chapter Four

  ‘Shut your face, you little whore.’

  The harsh cockney accent ripped through Lucetta’s consciousness. The smell of unwashed flesh made her feel physically sick, but she was more angry than afraid. Struggling and kicking out with her feet she sank her teeth into the grimy hand that covered her mouth. Her attacker loosened his grip with a grunt of pain and she stumbled, clutching at an overhanging branch to save herself from falling. She backed away from the man, who was sucking his injured hand and glaring as if he would like to finish her off there and then. ‘You’ve made a big mistake. Just wait until the consul hears about this.’

  ‘Bloody hell, Stranks. You’ve snatched an Englishwoman.’

  Lucetta turned her head to stare at the speaker, who lay on a matted bed of dry leaves, his right leg twisted in a most unnatural position. ‘Yes, I’m English, and you’ll both end up in jail if you don’t let me go this instant.’

  ‘Hoity-toity, begging your pardon, ma’am.’ The man called Stranks executed a mocking bow. ‘If I’d have known you was a lady, I’d have asked your permission afore I grabbed you.’

  ‘I–I’m not a lady. I’m a lady’s maid and you’d better let me go, or my master will have the law on you.’

  ‘Send the trollop on her way, Stranks,’ the man on the ground muttered wearily. ‘We don’t want no more trouble than we got already.’

  ‘Shut up, Guthrie, and let me think.’ Stranks wiped his bruised hand on the seat of his pants, staring hard at Lucetta. ‘What’s an English maidservant doing in them fancy duds, then? Answer me that?’

  ‘I know who you are,’ Lucetta said slowly. ‘You’re the escaped
convicts that the men from the British merchant ship were looking for.’

  ‘You know a lot more than is good for you, and I don’t believe you’re a lady’s maid,’ Stranks said suspiciously. ‘Who are you, girl?’

  Guthrie raised himself on his elbow, wincing with pain. ‘We’re done for, mate. Might as well give ourselves up.’

  ‘Shut up, you fool.’ Stranks spat on the ground, just missing Lucetta’s feet. ‘D’you want to go back to London clapped in irons? It’ll mean the gallows for certain.’

  ‘How far d’you think we’ll get with my leg busted?’ Guthrie collapsed onto the ground with a low moan, covering his face with his arm.

  Lucetta watched in horror as a huge centipede appeared from the rotting vegetation and scuttled across his body to disappear into the folds of his shirt. She held her breath, waiting for him to realise that something strange was happening, but he didn’t appear to notice. ‘Your friend needs a doctor,’ she said in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘And the thing that just crawled inside his clothes could be poisonous.’

  ‘Shut your face,’ Stranks said, fisting his hands. ‘One more charge against me won’t make no difference, so you button your lip.’

  Lucetta was quick to hear the note of panic in his voice. ‘If you don’t let me go there’ll be another search party and this time they’ll be looking for me. You can’t exactly make a run for it with him in that condition, now can you?’

  ‘Stop going on at me,’ Stranks muttered through gritted teeth. ‘I ain’t never hit a woman, but there’s always the first time.’

  Lucetta turned her back on him and she knelt on the ground beside Guthrie, running her fingers gently along the contour of his twisted limb. ‘It’s broken all right and the bone has come through the skin. He must get medical attention or the wound will go septic in this heat.’

  Guthrie let his arm fall to his side. ‘Oh, God. I’ll lose me leg. I’ll die of gangrene. I’m burning up already.’

  Lucetta laid her hand on his forehead. ‘He might have a fever. It’s hard to tell.’

  ‘Then you fix him up, girlie,’ Stranks said brusquely. ‘We got to get away from here afore they finds us.’

  ‘I can’t do anything without clean water and bandages. Anyway, I don’t know how to set bones. He must see a doctor.’

  Stranks seized her by the arm, his strong fingers bruising her soft flesh as he dragged her to her feet. He ripped the scarf from her head. ‘There’s yer bandages, the water will have to wait. Now get on with it.’

  Lucetta’s blonde hair swung loose around her shoulders as he shook her until her teeth rattled. ‘Let me go, you big brute.’ She was terrified, but she was determined not to let it show. ‘If you want me to help him I’ll do what I can, but I can’t promise anything.’

  Stranks pushed her away from him, wiping the beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. ‘Just see to him then.’

  Lucetta frowned as she tried to remember what had happened when the gardener’s boy at the Academy fell from an apple tree. The branch that he had been pruning had given way beneath his weight and his screams of pain had been heart-rending. The girls had stood round helplessly, some of them in tears and others pale with shock and unnaturally silent. When the doctor arrived he had taken charge of the scene in the most admirable way. He had instructed the agitated teachers to take the distraught girls back into the building, and he had organised those who wanted to help, which had included Lucetta, to go in search of wooden slats to provide support for the injured limb before the boy was hefted onto a hurdle and carried back to his surgery.

  ‘He’ll need a splint,’ Lucetta said firmly. ‘You must cut some lengths of bamboo.’ Ignoring the outpouring of bad language as Stranks stomped off into the bush she went down on her knees beside Guthrie. ‘This will hurt a bit.’

  ‘Just do it, miss. Just do it.’

  Taking the knife from his leather belt, Lucetta slit the coarse canvas of his trouser leg. The breath hitched in her throat and a feeling of nausea almost overcame her as she saw the bloody mess where the fractured bones had pierced his skin. Flies swarmed over the wound, attracted by the smell of fresh blood. Lucetta swallowed hard. She must keep calm. She must appear to be in control and then, when the opportunity arose, she would make a dash for the road and safety. She leaned back on her haunches, listening to Stranks crashing through the undergrowth as he hacked at the bamboo. It occurred to her that she could make her escape now, but somehow she could not bring herself to leave the injured man. She covered the exposed wound with her headscarf, and she was busy keeping the flies at bay with a palm leaf when Stranks reappeared carrying an armful of bamboo canes.

  ‘Get on with it,’ he said, dumping them down beside her. ‘Set the bones so that he can walk out of here.’

  Lucetta lifted the scarf, pointing to the injury and shaking her head. ‘I can’t. I haven’t got the strength. It must be done properly.’

  ‘Bloody useless female,’ Stranks said scornfully. ‘I’ve seen this done a dozen times or more in the penal colony.’ He bent down and without a word of warning he yanked the leg so that the bones snapped back into position with a sickening cracking sound.

  Guthrie let out an agonised howl and fainted.

  ‘There,’ Stranks said, grinning. ‘I told you there weren’t nothing to it. See to him now while he don’t know nothing about it.’

  With perspiration dripping into her eyes, Lucetta fashioned a rough splint and bound it in position with her scarf. ‘There,’ she said, rising unsteadily to her feet. ‘I’ve done what I can. Now let me go.’

  ‘Not on your life, missy.’ Stranks seized her before she had a chance to run, and he twisted her arm behind her back. ‘You’re our ticket to freedom.’

  ‘You won’t get away with this,’ Lucetta said, wincing with pain as he gave her arm a savage twist. ‘You’ll never get off the island.’

  Stranks chortled with laughter, although there was no humour in the sound. ‘You may think I’m stupid, but I know who you are. Guthrie and me was waiting to be taken on board the Caroline when you come ashore in your fancy clothes and with that pretty little nose stuck in the air. I don’t know who your pa is but I can smell money a mile off. I’m sure he’ll be only too happy to pay for the return of his little darling, and the authorities won’t touch Guthrie and me while we’ve got you in tow.’

  He released Lucetta with a savage push that sent her staggering. She would have fallen to the ground had she not clutched a liana which hung from a tall banyan tree.

  ‘How far do you think you’ll get with him in that condition?’ she demanded. ‘Your friend can’t stand, let alone walk, and do you know where you’re headed? If you go back to Benoa harbour you’ll be caught for certain.’

  ‘And you’ve got a lot of lip for someone in your position,’ Stranks said, scowling. ‘But if you must know, we’re making for Gilimanuk. Guthrie and me can get a boat to Java from there. We got money and we can buy a passage to somewhere the law won’t catch up with us.’

  ‘Gilimanuk is miles away to the north. You’ll never make it.’

  ‘I’ll make it all right, and the first thing I’ll do when we get there is wring your neck and feed you to the sharks.’

  ‘But why burden yourself with a woman and an injured man?’ Lucetta said softly. ‘You could make Gilimanuk in a couple of days if you went alone.’

  ‘And leave you to set the law on me? D’you think I’m a complete fool?’ Stranks raised his hand as if to strike her but a low moan from Guthrie diverted his attention.

  ‘Water. For God’s sake give me water.’

  ‘There ain’t none,’ Stranks said gruffly. ‘Hang on there, mate. I’m parched too, but I’ve got to sort this trull out afore I go looking for water.’

  He took a step towards Lucetta, pulling a knife from his belt, and for a terrifying moment she thought he intended to kill her, but he hacked a length off the liana and seizing her by the shoulders, he pinned her arms behind
her back. He lashed her wrists together and cutting a longer length of the vine, he bound her to the trunk of the banyan tree. ‘There, that’ll hold you until I get back.’

  Lucetta was about to scream for help, but Stranks slapped his hand over her mouth, holding his knife to her throat. ‘One peep from you, missy, and I really will slit your gullet.’

  She did not doubt that he meant every word he said, and she was barely surprised when he ripped a length from the hem of her sarong and gagged her so that she could not utter a sound. He grinned, revealing an uneven row of blackened teeth. ‘That’ll keep you quiet for a bit, Miss High and Mighty.’

  He was gone for what seemed like hours and Lucetta had to suffer the torment of flies buzzing around her face while ants crawled over her feet and made exploratory trips up her bare legs. Guthrie lapsed in and out of consciousness, begging for water in his lucid moments, his eyes beseeching Lucetta for help that she was unable to give. His groans of pain became unintelligible gibberish as fever racked his body. Lucetta could only watch helplessly and wait for Stranks to return.

  A green snake slithered from the undergrowth and she held her breath as it moved towards Guthrie’s inert body. She hoped that he would remain unconscious as the reptile stopped, its forked tongue flicking in and out as it absorbed the scent of the man lying on the forest floor. Don’t let it come near me, Lucetta prayed silently, as sweat trickled down her face and neck. The snake raised its flat head and stared at her with basilisk eyes, then just as suddenly as it had come it disappeared into the undergrowth. Shuddering violently, Lucetta felt tears of relief pouring from her eyes.