Meridon (Wideacre Trilogy 3) Read online

  Peregrine staggered into the room.

  I lay still and did not say a word. I half closed my eyes and watched him through my eyelashes. He took a half step inside the room and shut the door behind him.

  ‘Sssshhh,’ he said to himself; and giggled.

  I lay in silence, waiting for what would come next. The drunken repentance, the blustering explanation, the tears, the promises to reform.

  He stepped quietly over to my dressing-table and there was a sudden scuffle as he collided with the chair.

  ‘Careful!’ he cautioned himself loudly. ‘Not too much noise now! Don’t want to wake her up! She’s going to have a surprise in the morning!’

  I opened my eyes a little wider. I had not expected Perry to be joyful. I had thought he had come back for the last ten guineas, perhaps for my jewels.

  In the flickering light from the dying fire I saw him pulling something out of his pocket, pieces of paper, and then I heard the chink of coins.

  ‘Perry, what on earth are you doing?’ I demanded and sat upright in bed.

  He jumped like a deer.

  ‘Damme, Sarah! Don’t shout at me like that when I’m trying to give you a surprise!’ he said.

  ‘You’ve already given me one,’ I said tightly. ‘You’ve robbed me, Perry. There’s £33,000 in bills made out to me missing from that drawer, and I know you took them.’

  ‘These you mean?’ Perry said joyfully. I reached over for my candle and lit it. He was waving a sheaf of papers at me. I squinted against the sudden light. They were the same ones.

  ‘You brought them back?’ I asked in surprise. ‘You didn’t gamble?’

  ‘I won!’ Perry declared.

  He staggered over to the bed and caught at one of the bedposts. He pushed his hands deep into his pockets and shovelled out papers and coins. ‘I won and won and won!’ he said. He giggled delightedly and spilled coins and notes of hand over my bed.

  ‘I have an unbeatable system,’ he said. ‘An unbreakable system. I have an unbreatable system an unbeakable system a beakless system, a breathless system!’

  ‘How much?’ I asked, a gambler’s daughter again.

  Perry put my notes to one side and shovelled out the rest of his pockets and we made piles on the counterpane of coins, and notes of hand, and paper money.

  Altogether it came to something like £22,000.

  ‘Perry,’ I said, awed.

  He nodded, beaming at me. ‘Unbreatheable!’ he said, with satisfaction.

  We were silent for a moment.

  ‘You shouldn’t have taken my money,’ I said.

  He blinked at me. ‘I had to, Sarah,’ he said. ‘I’d have asked you, but you weren’t here. I had to. Mama was talking of wearing her diamonds to present you at Court – I had to have money.’

  I frowned. ‘What do your mama’s diamonds have to do with…’ then I broke off. ‘Have you lost them at play?’ I asked.

  ‘Pawned,’ he said gloomily. ‘I had to get them back, Sarah, or I’d have been really sunk. She keeps me on such a short allowance I can never manage to stay out of debt. And a little while ago I found the key to her strongbox. It was before the Season started and I knew she wouldn’t need them for months. So I prigged them, and pawned them.’

  He paused gloomy for a moment, but then his face brightened. ‘And now I’ll be able to get them back!’ he said delightedly.

  He glanced at my face. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ he asked.

  ‘You’re a thief,’ I said. ‘A thief and a drunkard and a gambler.’

  Perry looked contrite. ‘I did win, though,’ he offered.

  ‘I’m no better,’ I said. ‘I was a thief and a card-sharper and a horse-trader. You are what you have to be, Perry. But don’t ever steal from me again.’

  His face brightened. ‘I’ll make a promise with you,’ he offered. ‘I will never steal from you again, I will never steal from Mama again, and I will never pawn anything of hers or yours again. It has been dreadful, Sarah, I thought I’d not be able to get them back and then she would have known!’

  I nodded. I could imagine how afraid Perry must have been.

  ‘All right,’ I said. ‘I hold you to your promise. You must never steal from me or your mama again. And I’ll never steal from you or cheat you.’

  He put out his long-fingered soft hand and we shook firmly.

  ‘Done,’ I said. ‘Now get your winnings off my bed, I need to sleep, I have a throat like charcoal.’

  Peregrine gathered up his papers and crammed them back into his pockets. My bank bills he counted out carefully on to my dressing-table and he added to them the guineas he had borrowed from me.

  Then he came to the bedside again and leaned over me. I could feel his warm brandy-sweet breath on my face as he leaned over.

  ‘Good-night Sarah,’ he said softly and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Good-night, my best of friends.’

  I cat-napped after he left me; once, I turned and was wideawake and found I was chuckling, thinking of Perry coming into my room, his pockets bursting as if he had been sharping cards all night. Then I heard the clock strike seven and I got up, splashed cold water on my face, and slipped into my riding habit.

  Only then did I remember that it was Thursday, and Will was coming to ride with me today.

  I brushed my hair in a hurry and coiled it up on my head, then I pinned on my hat and went to the door. I ran down the stairs pulling on my gloves and the kitchenmaid met me at the front door, her face all grimy and her hands black with soot from the fires.

  ‘Beg pardon, m’m,’ she said, dipping a curtsey.

  I nodded to her and opened the door myself and slipped out. There was a figure of a man, holding two horses waiting in the street opposite the front door. But it was not Gerry the groom there, waiting for me holding his horse and Sea. It was Will, standing with the reins of his bay horse in one hand, and Sea’s reins in the other.

  ‘Oh Will!’ I said and I beamed at him.

  ‘I’m freezing,’ he said crossly. ‘I’ve been waiting here for half an hour, Sarah, and that softy maid of yours wouldn’t find you and tell you I was here.’

  I chuckled and ran down the steps and took the reins. ‘You’re a weakling,’ I said. ‘This is just bracing.’

  ‘Bracing!’ Will said under his breath. He cupped his hands and threw me ungently up into the saddle. Sea sidled and I patted his neck.

  ‘Yes,’ I said provocatively. ‘If you had lived in a wagon like I did you’d count this good weather. But you’re a soft gorgio you are, Will Tyacke.’

  Will scowled and swung into his own saddle and then his brown face crumpled and he laughed aloud. ‘Why are you so damned full of chirp?’ he asked. ‘What have you got to be so glad about?’

  ‘Precious little,’ I said. The horses fell into step side by side and I turned and smiled at Will. ‘I’ve had some trouble, I waked all night. But it’s come all right now, and I’m glad to be out of that house, and with you. I’m so glad to see you.’

  His glance at me was warm. ‘I’d wait all night in a snowstorm to see you and count myself lucky,’ he said. ‘I rode up in darkness last night to make sure I’d be here in time. Sarah, you’re the first thing worth seeing this week.’

  I put my hand out to him in a swift instinctive gesture, and he did not kiss it like a lover but took it in a firm gentle clasp, as if we were shaking on a deal. Then his horse shifted and we let go.

  ‘What’s your trouble?’ he asked.

  ‘Tell me about Wideacre first,’ I said. ‘And how did your meeting of the corporations go?’

  ‘All’s well on Wideacre,’ he said. ‘The oats and barley is sown, we’re setting to the hedging and ditching. The root crops are coming up. All’s well. I’m bid send you people’s love and to tell you that we all want you home.’ He straightened a little in the saddle as we came down the road towards the park. ‘They elected me chairman of the National Association of Corporations,’ he said. ‘I was proud. I’m honoure