The Adventurers

by Jane Aiken Hodge

  ‘Well, there you are. A son… I’d not have thought life could change so, all in a moment. And you’re mixed up in a plot to assassinate the Czar tonight, eh?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘I’m glad you have the grace to look ashamed. A fine lot of associates you seem to have found yourself, son Charles. Assassinate the Czar indeed! Who do you think’s been protecting Paris all this time? Let Blücher have his way and there wouldn’t be two stones standing on top of each other. What do they expect to gain by it, hey?’

  ‘Chaos, I think, sir.’

  ‘They’re right. With Cossacks running wild in the streets of Paris. They love their Little Father, you know. And—your friends?’

  ‘Think it will be their chance to cut out Louis XVIII and put the Comte d’Artois on the throne.’

  ‘I see. Yes, there’s a certain logic about that. The strong man, eh? Why not have Napoleon? Right, that’s the picture. Now, what do we do? How much do you know? When? How? Who?’

  ‘On his way into the theatre. A bomb. I don’t know who.’

  ‘Beginning to distrust you, are they?’

  ‘I spoke against it.’

  ‘Creditable, if not wise. So now they suspect you. A pity, that. But never mind. Tell me what you know and we’ll plan accordingly.’

  ‘Best make it quick,’ said Denbigh. ‘This has been a very long fitting already. You must be very hard to please, Miss von Hugel.’

  ‘I am,’ said Sonia, her eyes on Charles.

  ‘Well,’ Fessingham summed it up a few minutes later. ‘Change the route, extra guards, watch your friends and—pray. I don’t think we can do more.’

  ‘You won’t arrest them?’

  ‘No. It would create just the kind of scandal we are trying to avoid. No, prevention is the thing. Besides, I find myself a selfish old man. Now I’ve found you, son Charles, I don’t want to lose you again if I can help it.’

  ‘You mean?’

  ‘Well—you said yourself you’d protested against their plans. Who do you think they’ll blame if they are all suddenly arrested? Don’t look so anxious, child’—to Sonia—‘I’ll arrest him too, if necessary.’

  ‘You cheer me unspeakably,’ said Sonia. But her eyes met Fessingham’s in a long glance of mutual consideration and mutual approval.

  ‘Don’t want him locked up, eh?’ said Fessingham. ‘I suppose you want him out for the wedding. Well, there’s no accounting for tastes; he looks a doubtful enough prospect to me. Still, you’ll get a devoted father-in-law, if that’s any consolation. I’ll tell you what; I’ll save him for you if you promise me a grandchild a year.’

  Sonia blushed crimson and laughed. ‘But he hasn’t proposed to me yet.’

  ‘Not proposed! Well, of all the young fools. Charles, I give you up. Compromised the girl all winter and never even got around to asking her to marry you. I’m not sure I won’t marry her myself, just to teach you a lesson.’

  ‘How could I ask her, with my only prospect penury—and now, perhaps, the gallows? Sonia—you understand. I’ve loved you from the first moment we met.’

  ‘Oh?’ She could not resist it. ‘When you called me urchin and made me pull off your boots?’ And then, in explanation, to Fessingham: ‘I was dressed as a boy, you see, sir. He thought I was a Bavarian prince or something of the kind. And—he’s been wonderfully good to me. You mustn’t blame him for this trouble he’s in. It was all on account of Elizabeth and me—we needed the money. He may have had no prospects—we had less. We could not be anything but a burden to him. Whatever he’s done, it was for us.’

  Fessingham smiled at her very kindly. ‘You’re a good girl, I can see. So it was all your fault—hey? I like that. Son Charles, do you know how lucky you are? Well, take her hand, boy, and tell her you’ve got prospects now; enough for two, enough for twenty. I’ve had nothing to do, all my life, but make money, now, at last, I see some purpose in it. As if they cared—’ This to Denbigh, for Charles had taken both Sonia’s hands and pulled her ruthlessly into his arms.

  ‘No—’ Denbigh was thinking of Elizabeth. ‘But we must care for them. And time’s running out.’

  ‘You’re right, of course. At all costs, we must arouse no suspicion. Charles! Sonia! Children, it’s time to go.’ And then, as Sonia turned in Charles’ arms to raise her laughing, blushing face to his: ‘Allow me to congratulate you on your engagement, Charles. But if you intend to live to marry, you’d better lose no more time. As for your troubles, leave them to me. Behave exactly as if you knew nothing, and don’t worry. If the worst comes to the worst, we’ll visit you in prison, Sonia and I. What do you think, Sonia?’

  ‘I think we’re very lucky, Charles and I.’ Quickly, she reached up to kiss him, ‘Come, Charles, we must go.’ Once more, she handed him the package that had been their excuse to come.

  The stairs were still crowded with seamstresses, but neither Charles nor Sonia saw them. Outside, spring sunshine was brightening the crowded boulevard. Sonia broke the strange little silence. ‘Do you think they may be watching you?’

  ‘I’m sure of it.’ And then, ‘Sonia!’

  ‘Charles.’ The electric current that ran between them as they crossed the street arm in arm made speech hardly necessary.

  ‘You know how I’ve wanted to say it.’

  ‘I’ve hoped I knew. But did you really love me—right from the first? I think I rather hated you.’

  ‘I know you did. You hated us all, then, didn’t you?’

  ‘Men? Yes, I suppose I did. But not for long. How could I? Charles—what were you going to say, that night in the carriage?’

  He shook her arm a little, lovingly. ‘What do you think? Only that French sentry saved me. It would have been inexcusable. I—involved as I was, to ask you to marry me. They made me swear a terrible oath, you know, when I joined them.’

  She shivered and clung more closely to his arm. ‘I knew you were in trouble. I’ve been so frightened for you.’ And then, with a little laugh. ‘And so cross with you. I began to think I’d never get you to say it! First that night in the carriage, and then at Mme de Morne’s… Goodness, I could have screamed when she came chaperoning up the stairs. Charles! Say it now.’

  He slowed his pace to look down at her. ‘I love you, Sonia. I always have; I always will. D’you remember how you held me up with that little gun of yours? Like a furious kitten with all its claws out? How could I help loving you?’

  ‘And you’ve kept quiet all this time?’

  ‘Of course. What else could I do?’

  ‘Dear Charles—you nearly drove me distracted, you know. You and your fine scruples, and your surreptitious friends—and all those journeys. Each time, I thought I’d never see you again.’

  ‘And you cared?’

  ‘Wretched creature, of course I cared. And all you’d do was give me good advice and promise me a rich marriage. I could have boxed your ears. Did you think me a terrible hussy, Charles?’

  ‘Desperate! I never knew what you’d be breaking next—and was always afraid it might be my heart.’

  ‘Oh, Charles’—she looked up at him with swimming eyes—‘to think it’s all over—’

  ‘Not quite.’ He felt he must warn her. ‘There’s still tonight.’

  ‘Yes—but your father will take care of that. I like him, Charles. He’s got more sense in his little finger than you’ll ever have in that handsome head of yours.’

  ‘Thank you! Maybe you’d best marry him after all.’

  ‘Perhaps I will at that. Anyone can see he’s worth ten of you. Just think of all that money.’ She leaned a little closer, so that her curls brushed his shoulder. ‘Oh, Charles, may I tease you again?’

  ‘My darling, always.’

  ‘Even about Talleyrand? But of course it will all be different now. How strange. Will you be a Whig or a Tory when you get to England, darling? What cause will you find to neglect me for when you’re an English gentleman?’

  ‘Oh, my poor love,
have I been so impossible?’

  ‘Of course. What else? And don’t tell me it’s all going to be different now, because I shan’t believe you. I know you: there’ll always be something—oh so desperately important. But you’ll always come back to me, won’t you, Charles?’ And then, on a quite different note, ‘But, oh, poor Liz—’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We’re so happy…so lucky. And for her…everything’s wrong for her, I’m afraid. She had a visit from Lady Elinor this morning, looking like judgment itself. I don’t see a chance of happiness for her. What shall we do? Shall we tell her?’

  ‘About us? Of course. She’s bound to see. Happiness does not disguise itself easily. Yes, poor Elizabeth… If Lord Denbigh had not been there, I would have spoken to my father about her; it’s easy to see he’s the most generous of men. She need never lack for anything.’

  ‘Except happiness? Ah, poor Liz.’

  But Elizabeth, when they joined her, showed no sign of misery. She was making herself a wreath of white flowers and singing as she worked. ‘Ah, there you are at last.’ She held it up for their inspection. ‘How do you like it?’ And then, jumping up, ‘Charles? Sonia?’

  ‘Precisely.’ Sonia moved forward to kiss her. ‘And Elizabeth, you won’t believe it. We’ve got a father.’

  ‘A what? Is she mad with happiness, Charles?’

  ‘No, it’s quite true.’ The explanations that followed took so long that Charles suddenly exclaimed in dismay, ‘Look at the time! And we must be early at the opera. If you wish for my escort, you girls must dress like the wind.’

  ‘Charles.’ Sonia took his hand. ‘Must you go? I’m afraid.’

  ‘Nonsense, you don’t know what the word means. And you know I must go. It’s bad enough to be hiding behind my father’s coattails like this. To stay away would be to confess cowardice. You wouldn’t want me to do that.’

  ‘No, Charles, but go armed.’

  ‘Armed? In evening dress. Don’t be absurd, my love.’

  ‘If you love me—’ She broke off. ‘I know! My little gun. Take that, for my sake. Please, Charles, it’s the first thing I’ve asked you.’

  He kissed her hand. ‘Since you put it like that, but I warn you, I shall tease you about it for the rest of our lives. I don’t know what the children will say.’

  She laughed, and blushed, and had the last word. ‘They’ll say their mother had a great deal of sense.’

  Denbigh and Fessingham were busy most of the afternoon making their arrangements and it was almost time to dress when Denbigh returned to his hotel. He found his sister waiting for him, alone, in the salon.

  ‘You’re late,’ was her uncompromising greeting.

  ‘Yes. I’ve been busy. What have you done with the child?’

  ‘I wish you would not call her that, Giles. Juliet is eighteen. She is getting ready, of course, and I should be doing so too, but I wanted a word with you first.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. I paid the call I undertook to. I visited that’—she hesitated, then plunged—‘that hussy.’

  ‘Are you referring to Miss Barrymore?’ His voice was a warning.

  ‘Or Mrs Barrymore, if you prefer it. She’s got assurance enough for any title. And means, she tells me, to have yours.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I never heard anything so shameless in my life. It was your fault, of course, for not telling me the whole story. Why did you not explain that you had already made your offer, and been rejected?’

  ‘Because I thought it none of your business!’

  ‘None of my business! Sometimes you drive me beyond all patience. You had already extricated yourself from the affair and never thought fit to tell me so. Have a little sense, Giles. I grant that you might, perhaps, be considered to owe the girl something for what happened long ago. Well, now that debt is cancelled. She has had her chance, and rejected it. That’s that, thank God. I told her she should have all my support in marrying off that chit she’s got under her wing—and for herself a post, or even a pension…’

  ‘What kind of a post?’

  ‘Oh’—she had the grace to look confused—‘a wardenship of some kind. You know my charities…’

  ‘Yes, I do. And what did she say to this handsome offer of yours?’

  ‘That’s where you had let me down. If you’d only told me you’d already offered, and been refused. As it is, she told me of it, bold as brass.’

  ‘Yes. And—’

  ‘And had the unmitigated effrontery to add that she did not promise not to take you if you were to offer again. I’ve never been so angry in my life.’

  ‘She said that! Then, perhaps… What on earth had you said to her, Elinor?’

  ‘Why, told her, of course, what a fool you had made of yourself for her sake all these years. When I think of the eligible matches… And now Juliet…a fortune…neighbouring estates…most suitably reared, though I do say so.’

  ‘You told her about Juliet?’

  ‘Of course. And that she had only to cure you, to free you—Giles, what is it?’

  ‘Nothing… So you offered her your countenance, and—what was it? A pension and some delicious wardenship or other—’

  ‘And she refused! That’s what I’m telling you. She’s entirely without shame, Giles. She’ll have you, if it ruins you. You must see it now.’

  ‘I see that you’ve done me a great service, Elinor.’ To her amazement, he leaned forward to kiss her dry cheek. ‘We’ll forget the past. Oh, I know you did not intend it, but never mind that. Told her I’d made a fool of myself all these years for her sake, did you? And Elinor, what did you say she said?’

  ‘How many times must I tell you? She as good as told me she meant to have you if you asked again. Giles, have you gone quite mad?’

  ‘I rather believe so. But come, this is going to be an eventful evening, we had best get ready for it.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Opera House was festive with white flowers and garlands. A group of young men were busy covering Napoleon’s eagle emblem over the royal box with a white handkerchief. Everywhere, there were white flowers, white fans, white dresses. Sonia turned to Charles. ‘Do you see anyone you know?’ she asked.

  ‘No. It’s early yet.’

  ‘And look at the crowds already. When does he arrive?’

  ‘Not for some time yet.’ Charles knew she meant the Czar. ‘Ah, there are Denbigh and my father—’ He still used the word as if it were strange and surprising. ‘Will you excuse me a moment? Sonia? Elizabeth?’

  ‘Of course. But—don’t be long.’ Sonia’s hand, butterfly-light on his sleeve, underlined the request.

  ‘How could I?’ He was gone.

  The box was too small to hold Sonia. ‘Let’s go back to the foyer, Liz. Please? Suppose something happened—’

  ‘It won’t. But—very well. Only, think a little, Sonia. Don’t you see that if you betray your anxiety, you betray Charles? The conspirators will know, by the look of you, that he’s blown their plans. Pull yourself together, Sonia. Think how often you’ve said you wanted an opportunity for courage. Well, here it is. The decorations are exquisite, are they not?’ The big hall was filling rapidly, and a group of Austrian officers had moved close enough to hear what she said.

  ‘Ravishing.’ Sonia took her cue. ‘Do you think the Allied sovereigns will be much applauded?’ And then, convulsively catching Elizabeth’s hand, ‘What was that?’

  ‘Some disturbance outside, I suppose.’ Her hand, on Sonia’s, was at once a comfort and a warning. There was a little bustle, now, at the main entrance. ‘It must be almost time for the sovereigns to arrive.’

  ‘Elizabeth’—in a whisper—‘I can’t bear it.’

  ‘You must. Excuse me, sir.’ She leaned forward to catch the attention of an Austrian officer, with whom they were slightly acquainted. ‘Do you know what is happening outside?’

  ‘Why—ladies!’ He had not recognised them before, but
now hurried closer to pay his compliments. ‘Some broil or other, I suppose. One must expect them in what is, after all, a conquered city. They’ll tidy it up, all right and tight, before the monarchs get here. And heaven help whoever started it.’

  Elizabeth felt Sonia’s hand writhe in hers. ‘Yes—quite so. Only—we are a little anxious because our friend Mme de Morne is due to join us at any moment. It would be enormously kind if you would—’

  ‘Go and see? Delighted. Anything to oblige a lady.’ He was gone on the word and Sonia’s hand pressed Elizabeth’s gratefully.

  Time drew out interminably. Elizabeth kept up a gallant pretence at conversation, to which Sonia replied in erratic monosyllables. The room was very crowded now. ‘Why doesn’t he come back?’ asked Sonia under cover of the general babble of varied tongues.

  ‘I don’t know—oh.’ She saw Lady Elinor making her determined way towards them through the crowd, Philip Haverton and a young girl who must be Juliet Cerne in her wake.

  ‘So there you are.’ Lady Elinor hardly troubled to acknowledge their curtsies. She had armed herself, for this occasion, with a lorgnette through which she looked at them, for a moment, with frank dislike. ‘I thought it my duty, as an acquaintance, to tell you that we have just seen your’—one of her significant pauses—‘friend Mr Vincent arrested by the French.’

  ‘Arrested?’ Elizabeth had prepared herself to pretend surprise.

  But, ‘By the French? Then all is lost.’ Sonia swayed where she stood and Philip Haverton moved instinctively forward to give her his arm.

  ‘No, Philip.’ Lady Elinor was between them. ‘These two’—another pause—‘young women have proved amply capable of taking care of themselves. You, Miss Barrymore’—she raised her voice a little, so that no word should be lost to the crowds around them—‘with your wide knowledge of the world, will, I am sure, understand why I do not feel able to present you to my ward here, nor indeed to continue the slight acquaintance that has grown up, much against my will, between us. Good day to you both.’ She inclined her head in a little, regal dismissive nod. ‘Come, Philip. Come, Juliet.’