The Revenge of Captain Paine Read Online Free PDF Page A

their lives that could never be recovered.
    ‘Do come in, old chap,’ Morris boomed, oblivious to his discomfort, leading them through an airy saloon that extended through the full height of the house. ‘I’m delighted you accepted my invitation. Perhaps next time we might have the pleasure of your wife’s company?’
    Pyke bowed his head just low enough that he could continue to study Marguerite’s expression.
    ‘So you’re married, Mr Pyke,’ she whispered in a low, smoky voice that reminded him of an oboe.
    ‘Pyke. It’s always just been Pyke.’ He met her stare but it slipped effortlessly from his face.
    ‘And what’s your wife’s name, Mr Pyke?’
    ‘Emily.’
    ‘Delightful. How long have you been married?’
    ‘Almost six years.’ Instinctively he wrapped his fingers around a length of silver chain fixed to his belt with two keys attached to it. One of the keys opened the safe in the vault of his bank; the other, an old rusty object, had a more personal significance. During their courtship, Emily had risked her liberty by smuggling it to his cell in the condemned block at Newgate. Pyke had used the key to release his handcuffs and leg-irons and aid his escape from the prison. Even six years later, the sheer audaciousness and courage of her actions took his breath away, and he had carried it with him ever since as a reminder of what she had done for him.
    ‘Any children?’
    ‘We have one boy.’
    ‘A boy.’ Her lips quivered as she stole a glance at her husband. ‘And what, pray, is his name?’
    ‘Felix. He’s almost five.’
    ‘Five?’ For a moment Marguerite seemed to lose the thread of her own thoughts. ‘A wonderful age.’
    This torture was mercifully interrupted when a servant appeared carrying a shawl and handed it to Marguerite.
    Taking it gratefully, she turned to face them. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I was about to take some air.’ A lantern fixed to the wall illuminated her face and it struck Pyke that she may have been crying. The skin under her eyes looked sore and puffy and her eyes were bloodshot.
    ‘Really, my dear. It’s a beastly night. Can’t it wait until the morning?’ It was hard not to detect the tension in Morris’s tone and briefly Pyke wondered whether ‘it’ simply referred to her desire to take the air.
    ‘I’m quite sure you gentlemen have some pressing matters to discuss.’ She turned on her heels and said, almost as an afterthought, ‘It was nice to make your acquaintance, Mr Pyke. Please pass on my regards to your wife.’
    Watching her depart, Pyke started to pick through the jumble of contrary thoughts her unexpected appearance had produced.
    ‘She’s had a rather hard time of it recently,’ Morris confided after Marguerite had left. ‘I’m just hoping she’ll regain her joie de vivre soon.’
    Pyke wanted to ask precisely what Morris was referring to but restricted himself to an innocuous question about their marriage.
    After the butler had brought them champagne, Morris raised his flute and said, ‘Yes, I suppose it’s difficult to fathom why a woman like Marguerite would even notice, let alone agree to marry, a plain old man like me, isn’t it?’
    A rich old man, Pyke wanted to say, but held his tongue. He raised his glass and smiled. Maggie had always been attracted to rich men, just as she’d always been able to turn a hand of twos and threes into aces and kings.
     
Later, after Pyke had bid Morris goodnight, he instructed the coachman to pull in by the side of the driveway and wait there until he returned.
    The rain had ceased and the clouds had cleared, the darkness lifted by an almost full moon that hung low and heavy in the sky. Pyke eventually found her standing alone in a field about half a mile from the house, not moving, the woollen shawl wrapped tightly around her shivering body.
    She seemed to sense his presence before turning around to face him. ‘I don’t want you here, Pyke. Of all places I don’t want you here.’