Sensing her wakefulness, Ralph stirred. Even in the gloom she thought his eyes smiled at her.

'Elinor.' He raised himself on one elbow, watching her face in the gloom. 'I know your story, I am aware that you have no cause to like men. Why did you take me to your bed? Was it for my sake, because you think you should repay my kindness, or did you truly desire it?'

He felt her stretch beside him, like a cat.

'Oh, for any number of reasons. I hope you do not regret it, Ralph. I do not.'

'Not at all,' he murmured, kissing her hair, 'I have been wanting to do that since the first day I brought you here.'

She smiled and moved willingly back into his arms.

'Well, I have been here for more than three weeks, sir, we have a little time to make up, do we not?'

She kissed him.

'You're a damned fine woman, Elinor,' he murmured, his lips close to her ear. 'You should be consorting with nobility, not a common highwayman.'

'My experience of noblemen leads me to believe that they are a great deal more villainous than you will ever be!'

He pulled away from her, taken aback by the bitterness in her retort.

'What, did you never meet one honest gentleman?'

For an instant the disturbing image of Lord Davenham flashed into her mind. She pushed the thought away.

'They consider only their own pleasures,' she answered shortly, and taking his face in her hands she pulled him close, kissing with an intensity that aroused their passion once again.

They breakfasted late, giggling like children in their newfound happiness, and neither of them sharing the landlord's gloom at the prediction that the heavy snowfall during the night would keep them indoors for at least a week.

'Poor Jem, he'll be very short of customers for a while,' said Ralph, returning to Elinor's room after a brief descent to the taproom. 'He says there are high drifts in the lanes, so there's no likelihood of visitors today. It should be quite safe if you would care to come downstairs for a while. I've asked Jem to have a fire made up in the private parlour. I must return to Hoddesdon.'

'Oh, surely not the snow is too deep!'

Touched by her disappointment, Ralph took her hands in his own.

'I can walk across the fields. I will be needed at the school, Elinor, I must try and get back. I will return to you just as soon as I can trust me!'

With Ralph gone, Elinor found the days at the inn dragging by. She was pleased to be able to leave the seclusion of her room, for as her health and strength returned she was increasingly frustrated at being forced to remain hidden away.

Jem Carew's gloomy prediction proved correct. The snow remained with them for a week, during which time no traveller came within sight of the Green Dragon. At last there was a break in the weather and a steady thaw set in. Within a couple of days the snow was diminishing rapidly, leaving only patches of white upon the landscape where the drifts had been thickest. Waking one morning to this changed world, Elinor felt her spirits lift. She went downstairs, alert for any sign of strangers. Upon meeting her hostess at the foot of the stairs and being assured that the inn was empty, Elinor made her way to the private room set aside for the use of such travellers as did not wish to mingle with the rough working men who frequented the tap-room. Ralph found her there some time later. She was sitting in one of the high-back armchairs beside the fire, deep in thought, turning the large ruby brooch idly between her fingers.

'How's this, Mistress Brown?' he rallied her. 'Have you no occupation for those idle hands of yours? I will ask Megs to find you some small task what shall it be, there's a chicken to be plucked and drawn for dinner, or shall I set you to some sewing?'

'Ralph!' she jumped up and ran into his waiting arms. Only after he had kissed her did she answer his question, saying with mock severity, 'I have not prepared a dinner, but I would inform you, sir, that I have already mended a dozen torn sheets! Oh I have missed you. Can you stay?'

'Only for a couple of days. But you were lost in your own thoughts when I arrived will you not share them with me?'

She held up the ruby.

'I have been pondering why this jewel should be so important. Julian Poyntz told me he thought I was no longer alive, and that Lord Thurleigh had recovered the stone, and James Boreland too was most anxious to find it. There is a mystery here, Ralph, and this, this blood stone holds the key.'

'Let me look at it.'

She handed him the brooch. He went over to the window and began to examine it closely.

'I thought when I first saw it that the setting was too large for such a stone,' he said, turning the ornament over and over between his fingers. 'I wonder....'

Elinor followed him.

'Do you think there might be some secret catch?' she asked, watching as his fingers moved delicately over the finely worked casing, examining every detail of its pattern of leaves and flowers.

'I don't know. If there is a catch it's well hidden amongst the ornate detail of the setting. Yes! Yes... I have it!' He pressed a tiny flower bud, and the plain gold backing of the brooch opened upon its hidden hinge. Peering over his shoulder, Elinor could see the back of the ruby, and was surprised to note that it was cut exactly as the front of the stone, as if the ruby had originally been intended to be seen from both sides. Ralph turned the brooch slightly to allow the light to play upon the inside of the gold casing. He gave a low whistle.

'I think we have discovered the secret.'

The inside of the cover had been engraved with letters so small they were difficult to read without the aid of a glass, but by turning it to catch the very best of the light, Ralph could just decipher the words.

'Well?' demanded Elinor. 'What does it say?'

'Enough to cost men their lives,' he replied quietly. 'Look here: 'Loyal subjects to the true King James.' And there is a list of names, 'Guy Morellon, Marquis of Thurleigh Bishop Furminger James Boreland George Rowsell Julian Poyntz.' And there's a date, 1745.'

Elinor stared at him.

'But those are the very men I don't understand....'

'When exactly did you see these men, Elinor? Think hard, love.'

'It it was some eight years ago...it would be December, 'forty-five.'

'Then there we have it. Charles Stuart was in England then. These men must have had the intention of joining forces with the Stuart as he marched south. Fortunately for Thurleigh and the others the Jacobites started north again before they had openly declared themselves. No doubt the night you saw them they were gathered together to await news from the Prince.'

Elinor took the brooch and stared at it, turning it slowly between her fingers.

'Lord Thurleigh must have been very sure of the outcome to commit himself so openly to the Stuart cause.' She looked up. 'Ralph, do you think this is sufficient evidence of treason?'

He shrugged, saying slowly, 'Used properly, I don't doubt it could ruin Thurleigh, at least.'

'Then it is just what I need. Did I not tell you Fate is using me in this matter?'

Ralph looked as if he was about to reply, but he checked himself, merely saying, 'Well, the weather is still too uncertain to travel far, so there's nothing to be done about it today. Put the brooch away, Elinor, and forget about it for the present, if you can.' He clapped his hands, saying brightly, 'Now, what would you care to do this morning, ma'am? I am entirely at your disposal. I had the forethought to bring a backgammon board with me. Would you care for that, or shall we play at cards?'

The thaw continued and roads that had been impassable because of the snow now became rivers of mud, causing just as many problems for travellers, but it ensured Elinor's seclusion. Ralph Belham was the only visitor, and his patience and gentleness continued to work their magic, Elinor responding to his caresses as she had never done to those of her husband. Philibert de Sange had been interested only in his own sensual pleasures and his wife's humiliation. For her own survival Elinor had learned to repress her revulsion and indeed all other emotion, protecting herself from further pain with a cold, impenetrable barrier of reserve. Ralph had broken through that barrier and she gave herself to him willingly, pleased at his enjoyment of her body and astonished that she, too, should find pleasure in their union.

By the time the snow had disappeared from even the highest ground, Elinor felt that something inside her had melted too. She tried to explain this to Ralph one morning as she lay in bed, still wrapped in blankets, watching him dress.

'I did not know there could be such pleasure between two people,' she told him, smiling. 'Until I met you, dear Ralph, I had only known men who considered their own pleasure. I cannot think that I have ever been so so comfortable as I am with you. I would like to stay here for ever and ever.'

Ralph laughed and when he had finished buttoning his waistcoat he sat down on the side of the bed, his eyes smiling tenderly at her.

'There is nothing I would like more, my dear, but we both know it cannot be.'

Her green eyes smiled up at him. 'Oh? And why is that?'

He took her hand, his voice gentle. 'You do not love me, Elinor. I am not the man for you.'

'How can you say that, after these past few days?'

'They were very special, but I am not the only man who will give you such pleasure, believe me. Besides, child, I have twice your years. You are far too young and beautiful to waste your life with me.'

She sat up, frowning. 'You are serious! Ralph, do you do you not love me?'

'Aye, child. Too well to keep you here with me.'

'But it is where I want to be!'

'For the moment, perhaps, but that will change. Already I have seen the restlessness in your eyes.'

'Oh but '

'Pray now, child, do not argue with me.' He smiled tenderly at her anxious face. 'Our time is not yet over, and we can enjoy each other's company for a little while longer, but some day you must leave here.'

'No!' she sat up, flinging her arms about him and burying her face in his shoulder. 'You have made me happy, Ralph. You are the only man who has ever made me so.'

'Aye, child, but you have told me that your experience of men is limited. Soon you must go back to your world, take up your old life. I doubt not that you will find a good man a young man who will make you happy.'

'But why should I do that when I have found happiness here, with you? Why should I give that up now?'

'And what of this solemn quest for revenge that you have pursued so diligently?' he teased her, but gently. 'Is that over?'

'Yes, yes! I will hand the ruby brooch to someone else a government minister, or even the King! They can make of it what they will!'

He laughed softly. 'Oh Elinor, I wish I could believe that. But I have come to know you too well. Come now, dry your eyes. This is not a moment for tears, my love. Let us enjoy the time we have left.'

'I'm sorry.' Elinor sniffed, gratefully making use of the handkerchief he held out to her. 'You are right, Ralph. There is no reason for us to be downcast. Wait for me to dress and we will breakfast together.' And mayhap, given time, I can persuade you to let me stay, was her unspoken thought.

It was a full week before the weather had improved sufficiently for Ralph to resume his nocturnal activities. There was little traffic on the highway, for he found the roads to be thick with mud, some of them flooded, making travel almost impossible. There was just the occasional farm wagon, or a post-chaise taking advantage of the moonlight to continue its perilous journey to London. For the first time since embarking upon his nefarious career, Belham was aware of a desire to get back to the inn, put Devon in his warm stable and enjoy a cosy supper with Elinor beside a blazing fire. He laughed to himself as he turned his horse off the highway.

'I must be growing old. You'd be glad of the rest though, eh, Devon? Let's go home.' He patted the horse's neck, staring thoughtfully ahead of him. 'I think another time we should go west and try the Barnet-Hatfield road, where there's more likelihood of taking a decent purse.'

Adhering to his decision, the next night Ralph rode west from the inn, joining the London road just south of Hatfield. The weather continued dry, although it was a little blustery, with heavy clouds moving across the sky and occasionally obscuring the moon. Keeping to the shelter of the woodland bordering the highway, he turned his horse south, moving slowly through the trees, his senses fixed upon the road a few yards away. He was wrapped warmly against the chill wind that moaned through the trees, and Devon moved steadily beneath him, as silent as his master.

Little passed along the road: a gentleman with his lady riding pillion behind him had come along, but the moonlight had shown the fellow to be a clergyman, and not a very prosperous one, Ralph guessed, if his living did not run to a carriage, and he had let them pass unhindered. Now there was silence, save for the wind's sighing. Ralph judged it to be about ten o'clock, and he guessed that anyone who had gone visiting that evening would soon be travelling home if they were to take advantage of the moonlight.

Sure enough, the rumble of a carriage sounded in the distance. Devon pricked up his ears and snorted expectantly: he knew the game. Ralph gathered up the reins in one hand and with the other he took out his pistol. Then, in the shadow of the trees, they waited. Ralph could hear the coach quite clearly now: it seemed to be moving at speed through the darkness. A few moments later the dark shape could be seen, the carriage lamps bobbing and twinkling as the coach swayed over the broken roads.

As it thundered nearer Ralph pulled his silk kerchief over his face and at a touch from his heels Devon sprang forward, appearing before the coach so suddenly that the leaders shied and reared, and the coachman instinctively reined in his team. Observing that this worthy fellow was wholly engaged in regaining control of his horses, Belham turned his attention to the footman clinging to the straps at the rear of the coach. He waved one of his pistols at the man.

'Come along now, me lad!' he cried in a hearty voice, 'Just you climb down and stand out on the road, where I can see you. That's better. Now, stand there nice and peaceful and it's no harm will come to you.'

'What the devil is going on!' demanded an angry voice from within the carriage.

'Just step down, sir, before I spoil your elegant carriage by putting a bullet through one of your new glass windows!' called Belham jovially.

The carriage door opened and a large gentleman jumped down to the road. The brim of his lace-edged hat kept his face in shadow, until he looked up at Belham, when the full light of the moon illuminated his countenance. Ralph's brows rose fractionally in surprise, then he threw back his head and laughed as he recognized the bearded face of James Boreland.

Chapter Eighteen.

Ill-met by moonlight...

The two men regarded each other, Boreland scowling as he looked up at the highwayman.

'So this amuses you, does it?' he growled. 'Only get down from that horse and I wager you would not find it so congenial!'

'Damme, Boreland, do you take me for a fool? Just hand over your purse and your watch and you can be on your way.'

'So, you know me, eh? How is that were you in my employ, mayhap, and turned off for dishonesty?'

'Devil a bit!' retorted Belham cheerfully. 'You were ever too much the villain for my taste. And tell your men to keep very still,' he added sharply, as the footman tried to edge back towards the coach. 'This pistol is aimed at your heart, Boreland.'

At a barked word of command from his master, the footman froze, and having assured himself that the coachman, with his team now under control, showed no signs of reaching for a shotgun, Ralph returned his attention to the carriage.

'Who else is in there?'

'My wife.'

'Then she had best come out and join us. Quickly now!'

Boreland helped his wife to alight from the coach and she stood, pale and still beside the steps. Belham inclined his head towards her.

'Good evening, ma'am! No need to look so anxious. I'll not trouble you.' He chuckled. 'By God, being married to this fellow must be trial enough for you, ma'am! But now you, sir, empty your pockets.'

With a sly glance at the masked horseman, Boreland reached into his pocket. Keeping his eyes upon the pistol that remained steadily pointed at his body, he slowly drew forth his purse. As he brought his hand clear of his pocket, the purse slipped from his fingers, and with a muttered oath he bent to retrieve it. Too late Belham saw the small silver pistol in his hand: there was a loud retort, Devon snorted and drew back, feeling his master jerk in the saddle.

'That's for you, my pretty villain!' snarled Boreland triumphantly. 'I'll take great pleasure in watching you rot from a gibbet!'

Belham backed his horse, and despite the pain he managed to laugh.