'Right fed up poor Tommy looked, 'e's none too keen on that colt Lord George makes 'im ride. On'y 'alf broke it is.'
'Got rid of 'im last week, an' poor Tommy 'ad ter walk back from village.'
'He, Lord George, 'ad full saddle bags,' one groom said.
'An' pistols in 'is holsters,' another added, 'though 'e tried ter cover 'em up wi' a blanket in front o' the saddle, but the wind blew it up.'
Eugenie frowned, and decided his father needed to be informed, so she hurried back into the house, only to discover the Duke had driven out by himself just a few minutes before she went down to the stables. She would not bother Arabella with her concerns, but would have to wait in patience until her uncle returned. He'd taken the gig, so he probably wasn't intending to go far, perhaps just to visit one of his farms.
To distract herself she went to play with the children. The nurse was looking pale and tired, and Eugenie recalled she had been in full charge of the girls during the journey home and while they waited for their parents to arrive after a slower journey. She looked as though she needed a long rest.
'We want to dance,' Sophie said. 'Why won't Mama play the pianoforte for us?'
'Mama's not well,' Caroline said reprovingly. 'You know that.'
'They're full of energy, and the weather's not been fit for walks,' the nurse said, with a sigh.
'Perhaps I can play for you?' Eugenie offered. 'It's a long time since I did, but I think I can remember some of the tunes.'
'Oh yes, please, cousin Eugenie!'
'I'll take them down to the drawing room, and keep them busy with card games if I cannot recall dance tunes. Meanwhile, have a rest yourself.'
'Thank you, Miss! I need one!'
The girls trooped downstairs, and Eugenie rang for Jenny.
'Can you help me keep the girls occupied?' Eugenie asked.
Jenny smiled. 'Of course. I've sisters at home, right little devils sometimes.'
Eugenie sat at the pianoforte, and found that she could remember some of the simpler tunes. Jenny knew the dances and guided the children through the steps. When they were exhausted, and Eugenie felt as exhausted from playing as the girls from dancing, they began to play simple card games. Jenny knew several, and when they tired of this she began to tell them stories, saying to Eugenie that her own grandmother had told her and her brothers and sisters so many she had forgotten most of them.
'Never mind, you have been a great help. Now, it's time they had something to eat. Do you think Cook would mind if we took them down to the kitchens? I want Nurse to rest for as long as possible.'
Sophie had overheard and began jumping up and down from excitement. 'Kitchens! Yes, I love it there, and sometimes we help Cook if she's making cakes.'
'And afterwards you must all have a rest. You can sleep in my big bed, all together.'
'Oh, Cousin Eugenie, you are fun!' Caroline said.
Cook willingly provided them with fresh rolls and cold meat, lemonade, and milk for little Charlotte, and promised to make their favourite cakes that afternoon. When they had finished they went to Eugenie's room and began to squabble about where they could sleep.
'Caroline and Sophie, you are the eldest, so you will sleep on the outside and make sure the little ones don't fall out. Now I am going to pull the curtains, and if you don't go to sleep you won't have any of Cook's cakes.'
They giggled, but were soon sleeping.
'Please stay here, Jenny, while I go and see if my uncle has returned. I won't be long.'
'I'll keep them safe, don't worry, Miss Eugenie.'
The study was empty. Eugenie took the opportunity of visiting Arabella, who was sitting in her boudoir embroidering a new dress for one of the little girls. She said she was feeling better, but the Duke had not returned, for he would come to her as soon as he had changed. She didn't know where he had been going. Next Eugenie went to the stables, but the Duke had not returned. Neither had George. She could not leave Jenny for too long, as she didn't think the older girls would sleep much, so had to return to her room. Any talk with her uncle would have to wait.
*
The nurse was with Jenny, and they took the children down to the kitchens for the promised cakes. Eugenie sat by her window, from where she could watch for her uncle and George returning. She had been there for half an hour when she saw a man walking across the lawn, taking a short cut from the gates rather than following the curving drive. She frowned. He was hobbling, and when he came closer, making, it seemed, for the ruins where he could pass through to the stable yard, she saw his breeches were torn and there seemed to be blood on his face.
She ran as fast as she could down the back stairs and out to the stables, reaching there just as the man arrived. He was staggering, and seemed to be at the end of his tether. There were no grooms about, it was the quiet time of the afternoon before the horses were fed and settled for the night. Eugenie ran to him and guided him to sit on a bench outside the tack room. He glanced up at her and with a shock she recognised Tommy. Then, with a sigh, he appeared to collapse and she found that without her support he would simply crash to the ground.
'Help! Someone, please come!'
She wasn't able to let go, and had been shouting for several minutes before one of the grooms appeared, looking startled. 'Miss? What is it? Who's that?'
'It's Tommy, and he's been injured. Fetch some of the others and we can carry him onto a bed.'
Soon three more grooms appeared, and told Eugenie Tommy had a bed in the same quarters they inhabited.
'Can you carry him there? I'll find some water and rags to clean off this blood.'
Tommy was a hefty fellow, but the grooms soon carried him to his own bed. Eugenie rinsed one of the bowls used to measure oats for the horses, filled it from the pump, and found some clean rags in the tack room. When she reached Tommy's room she found the grooms had stripped him. He was still unconscious. The oldest groom took the rags and bowl from her.
'Best we see to 'im, Miss,' he said. 'It's not fittin' for you. It's bad, not just 'is face. Gawd knows 'ow he managed to get 'ere. One arm's broke, an' it looks as though 'e's bin beat up wi' a cudgel.'
'But where's Lord George?' another asked as the older groom began gently wiping the blood from Tommy's face and head. 'Perhaps 'e's bin attacked too.'
'An' the 'orses. They'd 'ave come 'ome if they could.'
'Well, we can't do anything until he can tell us what happened and where,' Eugenie said. 'One of you saddle up a horse and ride for a doctor. If there isn't one in the village you may have to go to Winchester, but you must bring one back. I don't like him being unconscious for so long.'
The youngest groom sped away, looking relieved. He clearly had not seen such injuries before, and Eugenie thought he had been struggling not to vomit when he saw the bloody gash on the back of Tommy's body.
'I'll go and get some salve,' Eugenie said and went to the kitchen where she found the children just finishing a feast of little cakes. She beckoned the Cook aside.
'Have you any salve, or something to stop bleeding?' she asked quietly. 'Lord George's groom has just come home, badly beaten. And perhaps, when he's recovered his senses, something to relieve the pain? I don't know where anything is.'
The cook was a sensible woman and did not stop to ask questions. She took a key from a pocket and led the way into one of the store rooms.
'Here,' she said as she unlocked a cupboard, 'some goose fat salve, but first make sure the wound is quite clean. And if he can swallow, some laudanum. Just a small spoonful. And do you need bandages?'
'Yes, and the groom who is dealing with him thinks an arm is broken. Where can I get a splint?'
'The lads will know. Probably stakes from the gardener's shed that he uses to hold up the plants. But tell the lads to wrap them in clean rags first.'
Eugenie thanked her and took the things back to where Tommy lay. As she entered the small room she stopped suddenly. The Duke had returned and was asking what the devil had ha
ppened. Two of the grooms were trying to explain, saying a doctor had been sent for, and Tommy had recovered his senses, but still looked dazed.
'It were 'is lordship,' he mumbled. 'Out by Minstead. Fust 'e knocked me out o' saddle, then said 'e dain't want me no more, an' when I tried ter grab the reins 'e kicked me off an' set about me wi' 'andle of 'is whip. Last I knew 'e'd grabbed the 'oss I was ridin' and took both of 'em away.'
'And you walked back here? Good man.'
'Farmer gi' me a lift in cart,' Tommy said. 'I on'y 'ad ter walk up from village.'
'Why didn't he give you a lift all the way?'
Tommy shook his head, then winced. 'Said 'e dain't want ter get across Lord George, an' I said I could walk rest of way. I'm that sorry, me Lord, but I couldn't stop 'im.'
'No, of course not. Now, ask in the kitchen for anything you need. And one of you see to my horse.'
Eugenie pushed past him. 'Here, Cook sent these.' She gave the instructions and then turned to go into the house with her uncle.
'So he's beaten me in the end. Come, my dear, I suppose it will be impossible to keep it from Arabella, but as you seem to have been there when the fellow came in, can you go and tell her without upsetting her? I'll come as soon as I have put these papers in the study and changed.'
*
Chapter 10
Eugenie went to the stables the following morning to see how Tommy was, and whether he needed anything, but Cook seemed to have adopted him as her patient and had provided all that was necessary, and some special treats into the bargain.
'I'm doin' fine, Miss,' he said. 'I just wish I 'adn't caused so much fuss, but everyone's bin so kind. 'Ave you 'eard from Lord George?'
He sounded apprehensive, and she wondered whether he was worried about what would happen when George returned, as he probably would. Might George deny his story? It seemed probable. But what would he say to explain Tommy's injuries?
She turned to go, and saw a village woman come hesitantly into the stable yard. She looked familiar, and Eugenie recognised Dickon's wife Meg, whom she had seen on Boxing Day.
'Can I help you?' she asked, and Meg shook her head.
'I were wantin' ter see Lord George,' she said. 'It's Dickon, see, 'e's bin took by Excise men, but his lordship never paid 'im fer the last time.'
'Taken by the Excise? How do you know?'
'Hal got away, see, an' come ter tell me. But 'e's gone away, an' wouldn't let on where 'e was goin'. Afraid they'd follow 'im if Dickon told 'em where 'e lived.'
Eugenie was thinking fast. 'Did Dickon take messages for Lord George?' she asked.
'Aye, an' papers.'
Papers? This sounded decidedly odd. What sort of papers would George be sending with this man, and where?
'I see. Look, Meg, I think you'd better come in and tell the Duke. Lord George hasn't returned home, and we are all worried.'
Meg shook her head, looking frightened. 'No, Miss, I can't, I don't want ter bother 'is Grace.'
'But you are the only one able to help us. And the Duke will pay you,' she added. If he would not, she'd pay the woman herself.
Meg looked undecided, but her eyes had brightened at the mention of money.
'Lord George ain' 'ere?' she asked as Eugenie took her arm and guided her towards the kitchen.
'No. Tell me, does he ever go with Dickon? And where do they go?'
'Every so often, 'is Lordship 'as ter go with 'em, Dickon says, ter collect some kind o' payment, see.'
'Where do they go? Is it always the same place?'
'I don't know. It's somewhere on the coast, but Dickon never said where, an' I think it's somewhere different each time. I've 'eard Dickon an' 'Al talk sometimes, planning where ter ride, and they've mentioned Portsmouth an' Lymington, and once, when they was away longer than normal, I think they went ter Charmouth.'
Fortunately the Duke was in his study, and Eugenie ushered Meg in and slipped to sit near the window, for she was eager to hear more. Her uncle greeted Meg kindly, but looked puzzled. He looked at Eugenie for enlightenment, and she explained briefly.
'Meg may be able to explain where George is,' she said. 'Don't be afraid, Meg, just tell his Grace what you told me.'
The Duke listened, and questioned her carefully. She could add no more than she had already told Eugenie, but began to sob when she said she was sure the Excise men had captured Dickon, and he would be put in Newgate gaol.
'I'll try to discover what has happened to him,' the Duke said. 'Meanwhile, how much did my son pay Dickon?'
'A shillin' a time, Dickon said, but I think that was what 'e told me. After, 'e allus 'ad money ter spend in alehouse. Hal too, so perhaps they both got paid.'
'Hal isn't married, is he?'
She shook her head. 'No, 'e lives wi' us.'
The Duke dug a hand into his pocket, and handed Meg two shillings. 'Here, that will help you for a while, until we discover what has happened.'
Meg looked astonished, but bobbed a curtsey. 'Oh, your Grace, thank you!'
'Go home now, and if I discover anything I'll send to let you know.'
*
George did not come home before dinner, and after the servants had left the Duke told Arabella and Eugenie what he assumed had been happening.
'I had government papers in my desk, so I think that was why the lock was broken, not for money.'
'Were any missing?' Arabella asked.
'No, or I would have realised earlier what was happening. I suspect he just copied what he thought was important, and has been selling them, and I can only assume to the French.'
'Betraying his country? Oh Jerome!'
The Duke sighed. 'Yes, and I cannot say how ashamed I am of my son. It is bad enough he gambled and ran up thousands of pounds of debt, but this is far worse.'
'Were they important papers?' Eugenie asked.
'Not of vital importance. They were not battle plans or details of troop movements that would compromise the war. I would never have brought those home. They were reports from our agents in France about the possible support we might get, or the opposition to Napoleon. But they came from specific areas, and some contained the names of our friends, both agents and Frenchmen loyal to the crown. I was working on compiling lists of where we might find support once Wellington invades.'
Eugenie thought of Hugues. Was his name amongst these? 'What will happen to these people?'
'It depends who has the papers. Some of our agents may not be able to work in France again. I can only hope they can get out before they are betrayed. The French sympathisers, I'm afraid, may suffer.'
They were silent, contemplating this, when suddenly there was a commotion in the hall and the door burst open. George, dishevelled, his coat torn, and looking wild, ran into the room followed by a concerned looking Compton. George collapsed onto a chair and seized a carafe of wine.
'Bring me a glass,' he ordered, and when Compton did so he poured the wine, drank it swiftly, and refilled the glass. 'Now get out.'
'So you are adding incivility to your treason,' the Duke said. 'How did a son of mine come to this?'
'You don't care what happens to me, you never have done!'
'Just tell me what happened. I understand the Excise men captured your poor fool Dickon. Where was this?'
George glared at him, then sighed. 'Lymington. Not in the town. It was at a small beach up the river. I don't know who betrayed us, but they were waiting. They got the Frenchmen who owned the boat too, even though they were disguised and one of them spoke good English.'
'Smugglers?'
'That was what they pretended to be, and they did bring a few casks of brandy, but they paid us, not us paying them. But someone betrayed us,' he repeated, 'and it will go badly for them when I catch them!'
'You talk of betrayal?' Arabella exclaimed. 'You have betrayed your father and your country, for more money just to lose it gambling!'
'Be quiet! I know how you have always influenced my father against me, and are hop
ing there's a son in your belly to take my place.'
At this the Duke rose to his feet and loomed over George. 'You will apologise for that, or big as you are I'll thrash your hide until it's raw!'
George sneered. 'I suppose unless I knuckle down to you you'll disown me? I apologise for telling the truth, madame Duchess! I must get away somewhere. God, how I wish I could get out of this wretched country!'
Arabella looked as though she wished the same for him. She was furiously angry, but trying to remain calm.
'Why don't you enlist in a regiment that's sailing for Canada?' Eugenie asked. 'That way, if you do it quickly, you could evade the punishment you deserve and escape from the men looking for you.'
George looked at her, and instead of the scorn she expected him to pour on her suggestion, he actually smiled.
'And by the time you come back, if you stay away for long enough, this will be forgotten,' Arabella added. Her tone was curt, and she was clearly still furious.
'Or I'll be dead and you won't be bothered by me any more,' George said.
The Duke sat down again, looking thoughtful. 'You have said you might like to join the army. Now, I think you have to, or face a criminal charge of treason. You know what that means?'
'You'd be glad to see me hanging at Tyburn, no doubt.'
'No, and to avoid the risk of that, I will take you to London immediately and have you enlist. Go and pack a cloak bag, no more. You won't need more than the minimum, and we can set off at once. We can drive some way tonight and be in London tomorrow in time to see some friends of mine and make the arrangements.'
*
They left within twenty minutes, while Arabella and Eugenie retreated to the drawing room.
Eugenie and the Earl Page 12