The Secret Adventures of Charlotte Brontë

by Laura Joh Rowland

  “Your Majesty, Your Highness,” he said in his most pompous manner, “I am pleased to announce that I have discovered the identity of Mr. Kuan’s accomplice.”

  Last night Mr. Slade had informed Lord Unwin about Captain Innes. Thereafter, Lord Unwin had insisted upon taking full charge and breaking the news to the Queen. Now she and her husband leaned forward in surprise.

  “Well?” she said. “Who is it?”

  “It is Captain Innes,” Lord Unwin said.

  Mr. Slade looked unhappy, although not because Lord Unwin was taking credit for the discovery. He didn’t trust Lord Unwin to handle the matters that remained. I was so worried about my family that I could barely stand still. Knowing that Mr. Slade’s men were on the way to their rescue gave me little comfort, for Haworth was far from Scotland.

  “Surely Captain Innes cannot be the accomplice to the kidnapping!” the Queen cried in disbelief.

  “He has been in my wife’s service since she took the throne,” said the Prince Consort. “He has always been devoted to her.”

  Other worries further disturbed me. Even while such momentous events were taking place, I could not cease thinking about what had transpired between Mr. Slade and me last night. By yielding myself to Mr. Slade, by compromising my chastity, I had pledged him my heart all the more, but what did our lovemaking mean to him?

  “Captain Innes has betrayed Your Majesty’s trust.” Lord Unwin smiled: He enjoyed the attention he was finally getting. “He revealed himself to Miss Brontë last night.”

  Lord Unwin described the events I had related to Mr. Slade and displayed the opium vial the captain had given me. The Queen shook her head, incredulous. The Prince Consort said to me, “Is that an accurate account?”

  I could tell that he didn’t trust Lord Unwin either. “It is, Your Highness.”

  The Queen clutched her bosom. “That I trusted him when he had evil designs against us! This is a shocking revelation.” Crimson anger suffused her face; her luminous eyes shot sparks. She spoke in a voice resonant with dire portent: “Where is Captain Innes?”

  “He’s under arrest in his lodgings,” said Lord Unwin. “My men are guarding him.” He had refused to allow Mr. Slade to speak to Captain Innes; he had interrogated the prisoner himself. Puffed up with conceit and heroism, he said, “The old scoundrel can’t hurt the children now.”

  “But his master is still at liberty somewhere.” The Prince Consort gestured outside, where Bertie, Vicky, and little Alfred were playing a noisy game of tag with the ladies-in-waiting. “Is he not still dangerous?”

  “What do you propose to do about him?” the Queen demanded.

  “I’ve devised a scheme to capture Mr. Kuan,” Lord Unwin said, then presented Mr. Slade’s idea: “Captain Innes and Miss Brontë will pretend to carry out the kidnapping. They’ll take bundles wrapped in blankets, which resemble sleeping children, out of the castle. They’ll go to the rendezvous place from which Kuan’s other henchmen are supposed to take Miss Brontë and the children to him. My agents will follow. They’ll arrest the henchmen, then force them to reveal the location of the next rendezvous place and the identity of the other henchmen stationed there. They’ll work their way up Kuan’s chain of command until they find him.”

  “That sounds a reasonable plan,” the Queen said.

  I prayed that all would go as planned, and that Kuan would be caught and my family rescued before he found out that I’d sabotaged him and he could retaliate.

  “Will Captain Innes cooperate with you?” the Prince Consort said.

  “Oh, indeed he will,” Lord Unwin said. “But let us allow him to tell you himself.” Turning to Mr. Slade, he said, “Go fetch Captain Innes.”

  He clearly relished this chance to order Mr. Slade about in front of everyone. Mr. Slade’s expression was stoic, but I could tell he disliked the idea of parading Captain Innes before the Queen like a trophy from a hunt. I myself didn’t want to see the man again.

  “Yes, my lord,” Mr. Slade said, and departed.

  Soon he returned with two soldiers escorting Captain Innes. I was shocked at the change in Innes. He shambled into the drawing room like a lame old man. His hair was disheveled, his shirt blood-stained, his face bruised: Lord Unwin’s men had apparently rough-handled him during the interrogation. His eyes were wild, crazed.

  “Ah. Greetings, Captain Innes,” Lord Unwin said, his manner filled with contempt. “Face up to the sovereign you swore to serve and then betrayed.”

  As the Queen and Prince Consort stared at him, Captain Innes shrank from them. “No,” he muttered. “Please. I can’t!” But the soldiers pushed him onto his knees before the Queen.

  She beheld him with as much hurt as hatred. “I trusted you, and you deceived me. How could you?”

  Captain Innes broke into loud, shuddering sobs. “I had no choice! Please forgive me, Your Majesty.” He proffered his clasped, trembling hands to her. I could almost pity him. “Please let me make up for what I’ve done!”

  The Queen’s glowering silence refused his entreaty. Lord Unwin said, “You certainly shall make up for your betrayal of your Queen. Tonight you will help us capture Mr. Kuan.”

  “No!” Terror shone in Captain Innes’s streaming eyes. “I told you I won’t. I can’t!”

  I felt a shock that I saw mirrored on Mr. Slade’s face. Lord Unwin had given us to understand that he had persuaded Captain Innes to cooperate. Now we realized that he had not.

  “Don’t be obstreperous, man,” Lord Unwin snapped. Perhaps he had hoped that bringing Captain Innes before the Queen would break his resistance. “It’s the least you can do to restore your honor before you’re executed.”

  “I beg you to have mercy!” Captain Innes cried, lurching to his feet. “If I betray Kuan, he’ll punish my family. Kuan is invincible. You’ll never get him, no matter what. Do as you wish to me, but please spare my wife and children!”

  I saw that the captain feared Kuan more than he did the law; he cared more for his kin than repentance. Although I could hardly blame him, dismay filled me. What would we do if he refused to cooperate? I thought he’d been promised that his family would be protected; that had been part of Mr. Slade’s plan. Lord Unwin had obviously neglected to execute that part, whether out of arrogance or sheer stupidity.

  Consternation registered on Lord Unwin’s face. I saw his fear that he would disgrace himself in front of the Queen. “You will help us whether you like it or not.”

  “No!” Captain Innes cried.

  Panic-stricken, he bolted. Mr. Slade and the agents lunged to grab him, but he was quicker than I would have imagined a man his age, in his condition, could be. He hurtled across the drawing room past the Queen and Prince Consort, who uttered sounds of alarm.

  “Stop him!” Lord Unwin shouted.

  Captain Innes burst through the French doors with Mr. Slade and the agents in pursuit. He ran straight towards the children as they laughed and chased one another on the sunlit grass.

  “Vicky! Bertie! Alfred!” the Queen cried.

  She and her husband hurried to the doors. “My God!” exclaimed the Prince Consort. “Don’t let him near them!”

  Their voices rang across the garden. The children and ladies turned; they caught sight of Captain Innes fleeing Mr. Slade and the agents. The children’s laughter gave way to frightened shrieks as they realized that something was amiss. Panic scattered them and the ladies.

  Lord Unwin was on the terrace. He ordered the agents, “Draw your weapons!”

  They halted and shouldered their rifles. “Captain Innes! Stop or they’ll shoot!” Lord Unwin called, as the Queen, Prince, and I looked on in speechless horror.

  Captain Innes kept running. Bertie, crying and confused, veered into his path. The Queen screamed.

  Lord Unwin shouted, “Fire!”

  Mr. Slade shouted, “No!” as he ran. He was almost within reach of Captain Innes.

  Gunshots boomed. Captain Innes jerked; he gave a yowl of pain. Hi
s gait faltered and he crashed facedown on the grass. All was suddenly still. Everyone stood paralyzed—the Queen, Prince, and I at the doors; Lord Unwin on the terrace; Mr. Slade, the agents, the children, and ladies-in-waiting ranged around the lawn. At the center of the tableau lay Captain Innes’s prone figure. Blood from bullet wounds in his back spread crimson patches across his shirt.

  The Queen let out a moan. She and her husband rushed across the garden and gathered the children into their arms. Bertie began shrieking hysterically. A lady-in-waiting fainted; the others ran to her aid. Mr. Slade, Lord Unwin, the agents, and I clustered around Captain Innes. The agents trained their rifles on him in case he should move—but he did not.

  Mr. Slade crouched, felt Captain Innes’s pulse, and spoke to Lord Unwin in a tone sharp with accusation: “He’s dead.”

  The agents lowered their rifles. “Well,” Lord Unwin said, sounding dazed by the course of events and taken aback by Mr. Slade’s manner.

  I’d never before seen a man gunned down like a rampant beast. My mind noted his hand curled limp on the grass, his eye already glazed, his body reduced to soulless flesh. My emotions were many, but foremost was a sense that things had just progressed from bad to much worse.

  “You shouldn’t have given the order to fire,” Mr. Slade said as he stood and faced Lord Unwin. “You should not have killed him.”

  “You dare to criticize me? Who do you think you are?” Lord Unwin’s pale eyes blazed. “What should I have done? The man was a menace. He might have hurt the Crown Prince.” Lord Unwin gestured towards Bertie, whose cries shrilled loud while the Queen tried to soothe him. “He might have gotten away.”

  “I almost had him,” Mr. Slade pointed out, matching Lord Unwin’s fury. “We should have taken him alive.”

  All the animosity between the men had risen to the surface. I wanted to berate Lord Unwin myself; I wanted Mr. Slade to thrash him, for I now understood the terrible consequences of Lord Unwin’s quest for glory.

  Lord Unwin was too indignant to think of anything other than justifying his actions. “Captain Innes was a traitor to the Crown. He deserved to die.”

  “Even a bloody imbecile like you should be able to see what his death has cost us,” Mr. Slade retorted. “Whatever Innes knew of Kuan’s plans, his whereabouts, or his other henchmen, he’ll take to his grave.”

  38

  THE DEATH OF CAPTAIN INNES HAD IMMEDIATE AND SERIOUS repercussions. Lord Unwin confined Mr. Slade to his quarters, and I to mine, while he notified the local authorities about the incident and they removed Captain Innes’s body. I spent many distressful hours wondering what would happen next. At midday Lord Unwin gathered Mr. Slade and me in the cottage where they were lodged. Mr. Slade and I sat in hard wooden chairs in front of the cold hearth, while Lord Unwin stood before us, severe and formal. Outside, rain began to fall, pelting the thatched roof; mist cloaked the forested hills.

  “John Slade,” said Lord Unwin, “you are hereby dismissed from the employ of the Foreign Office.”

  “What?” Mr. Slade exclaimed, leaping up from his chair. “Why?”

  “Sit down,” Lord Unwin said.

  Mr. Slade remained standing face to face with Lord Unwin. “Is it because I pointed out that you made a mistake by giving the order to fire on Captain Innes?”

  “It is not,” Lord Unwin said, but annoyance twitched his mouth, and I knew that Mr. Slade had deduced at least part of the reason for the dismissal. “Rather, your actions have led to the death of an important witness in an official investigation.”

  Enlightenment and dismay struck me at the same moment they became apparent in Mr. Slade’s expression. “Ah. I see. You intend for me to take the blame for your mistake.” His eyes flashed with anger. “You’re seizing on the death of Captain Innes as an excuse to get rid of me.”

  Lord Unwin puffed with satisfaction. “Think what you wish. Tomorrow morning you will take the train to London, where you will settle your affairs at the Foreign Office.”

  “You can’t do this!” Mr. Slade clenched his fists and took a step towards Lord Unwin. “Kuan has still to be captured. My mission is not yet finished!”

  “The mission is yours no longer,” Lord Unwin said spitefully. “I am assuming charge of the hunt for Mr. Kuan.”

  “I’ve brought the hunt this far,” Mr. Slade said, loud with indignation. “And for the sake of the kingdom, you had better let me finish it. You couldn’t catch a fish in a barrel by yourself!”

  I wholeheartedly agreed; yet my opinion would count for nothing with Lord Unwin. His face reddened with ire at Mr. Slade’s insult; he spoke with haughty derision: “Save your breath. My decision is final. Here ends your career in the service of the Crown.”

  Mr. Slade’s indignation subsided into defeat. Humiliation sagged his posture and quenched the rage in his eyes. I felt deep sympathy for him, but he wouldn’t look at me.

  “As for you, Miss Brontë,” said Lord Unwin, “Her Majesty has decided that she no longer wishes you to serve as governess to the children. The Prince Consort agrees.” Here ended my brush with royalty. I bowed my head in shame at the ignominious dismissal. “The Foreign Office also has no further need of your services. You will join Mr. Slade on his journey to London and thereafter proceed to your home.”

  “You’re dismissing Miss Brontë?” Mr. Slade stared as though he couldn’t believe it. “But she’s the only connection you have to Kuan. Now that his accomplice is dead, you need her more than ever.”

  “Her assistance has produced little result beyond a wild goose chase across the kingdom and continent, and at considerable expense, I might add,” Lord Unwin said. “The pursuit of Mr. Kuan will be carried out according to my own plans.”

  What those were, I could not imagine, and I would have wagered that Lord Unwin didn’t know, either. In his haste to be rid of Mr. Slade and me, he strode to the door and opened it. Outside, the cold rain poured.

  “Goodbye, Mr. Slade,” he said. “Goodbye, Miss Brontë.”

  My belongings took only moments to pack, and I had nothing else to do for the rest of that day. The Queen and Prince Consort kept the children away from me, the ladies-in-waiting shunned me, and servants brought my meals to my room. I felt like an outcast. To my further distress, Mr. Slade also avoided me. I supposed that he was preoccupied with the loss of his profession and his honor. What had happened last night might as well have never been. I had hoped we might at least talk over what had happened and devise some plan to counter Lord Unwin, but our only communication was a letter from Mr. Slade that said he’d had no word from the agents he’d sent to Haworth. Such fear I suffered for my family! Now that I could never accomplish the task Kuan had set me, were they all doomed? My despair increased with each passing hour.

  I did not expect to sleep that night, but I was so exhausted that I dropped into a black well of slumber the moment my head touched the pillow. Much later I was roused by someone shaking my shoulder. I blinked in the moonlight. Startled and confused, I uttered a cry. A hand clapped over my mouth.

  “Quiet!” an urgent voice hissed.

  It was the Duchess of Norfolk, leaning over me, dressed in black, her fair hair covered by a hat with a veil. She removed her hand from my mouth, then raised a finger that cautioned me to be still. I came fully alert and put on my spectacles, and saw that her expression was as fearful as I suddenly felt.

  “What do you want?” I said.

  “Get up, Miss Brontë,” she said. “Dress yourself. You’re coming with me.”

  “Why?” I said, more confused than ever. Somewhere in the castle a clock struck two. “Where are we going at this hour?”

  “To kidnap the children.”

  Shock caught my breath. Horror rendered me inarticulate; I could only stammer.

  “Hurry,” the Duchess ordered, her own voice shaky with nerves. “Mr. Kuan doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

  I had assumed that the death of Captain Innes had rid the royal household of Ku
an’s accomplice; so had Mr. Slade and Lord Unwin. But we had underestimated Kuan. He had arranged a second accomplice in case the captain failed him.

  “No,” I declared, furious as well as amazed. “I won’t go. You must know why.” What had happened, and my role as a spy, could be no secret.

  But the Duchess hardly seemed to listen, let alone care. She took from her handbag a pistol, which she aimed straight at me. “Do as I say.”

  The pistol trembled in her hand. Although fear clenched my heart, I couldn’t believe she had the courage to use the gun. “Go ahead and shoot me,” I said. “The noise will awaken everyone. They’ll come running. They’ll find me dead and catch you. You’ll be hanged for murder.”

  “Don’t argue!” the Duchess hissed, ramming the gun against my temple.

  The cold, hard steel jolted a whimper from me, and I realized that she was crazed enough to kill me unless I obeyed her. She said, “Mr. Kuan warned me that if you should ruin his plans for the kidnapping, then I must kill you, and the children too. And I swear I will if you don’t get up right this moment!”

  Even while terror overwhelmed my thoughts, I said, “Why must you do this? What has Mr. Kuan promised you in exchange, or threatened upon you if you refuse?”

  The Duchess made an impatient sound. “That is not your business, Miss Brontë.”

  Whatever hold Kuan had upon her was a strong one. I felt a desperate wish to live, and a duty to protect the children. I had to cooperate with the Duchess and hope that some opportunity to save them and myself would later arise.

  “Very well,” I said.

  She kept the gun aimed at me as I quickly dressed. When I had finished, she hurried me through the door that led from my room to the nursery. Two royal guardsmen were standing near the beds in which Bertie, Vicky, and Alfred slept.