Venice

by Lynne Connolly

  Tom waited for me in the lobby downstairs, by the back door. He held out his arms and I embraced him, feeling comfort in his friendly hug. “I thought we passed all that last week,” he commented, referring to our recent adventure together.

  “We are. This is only a precaution. I think the most dangerous part is this part—getting away from here where they might be watching.”

  “Do you think it’s the Cawntons? Getting revenge?”

  “It could be any number of people.”

  Tom studied my face. I kept my expression deliberately calm, as if I was used to being shot at. “I have footmen watching, Rose. If your carriage is followed, they’ll catch them.”

  “Was Richard followed?”

  Tom bit his lip. “No. Strang has given me your direction in Venice, and if we hear anything, we’ll get in touch.” That was a sure measure of Richard’s trust in Tom. “Don’t worry.” He tapped his forehead. “It’s in here, not on any sheet of paper.”

  For two pins I would have burst into self-pitying tears again, but instead I forced a smile and took Tom’s hand. “We’ll come back and see you as soon as we get back home. You know it’ll never be the same again.”

  He shook his head. “I know. And now you know something I never should have told you.” He gave me a crooked smile.

  “Oh, Tom!” I knew what he meant. In our captivity together, he’d told me he should have proposed marriage to me before I had ever met Richard. I might have been happy, but the feeling for Richard had been all engrossing, complete and thorough, so Tom’s confession had engendered nothing more than guilt and sorrow. “I hoped that was something you only thought you felt. That when you were free you would realise it was only brotherly love after all.”

  “No,” he said. “But I’m happy for you, Rose, happy to see you so fulfilled. Only—I don’t think you’ll see many peaceful times, not with Lord Strang. He seems to me a driven man.”

  I smiled ruefully. “You don’t know the half of it, Tom. But he loves me, and I’m hoping I can help him to achieve a kind of peace.”

  Tom nodded. “I overheard some comments today that might amuse you. They didn’t think you were his style, you must be a great heiress to have captured him. I even heard that you were carrying his child. None of them wanted to face the real reason.”

  The comments made me smile. “Could you tell?” Richard hated parading his private feelings in public, hated people knowing his true feelings and I had done my best to conceal my love for him, for his sake. One day he might feel more comfortable sharing that knowledge with others but for now I wanted to give him the room he needed to come to terms with his new state.

  “I don’t think so,” Tom said. “And his mother’s putting it about that it is a dynastic arrangement. His sister was to have married the fifth Earl of Hareton but called it off, so instead, the sister of the current earl is marrying him.”

  “That’s very clever, I shall tell him.” Carier waited for me outside, the only sign of his impatience his foot tapping on the ground. “I have to go, Tom.”

  Tom looked doubtfully at Carier and Nichols. “Will you be safe with them?”

  “Perfectly. They’re not just servants, you know, they’re my bodyguards. Carier is his valet, so you might say Richard’s made a great sacrifice.”

  That made my friend laugh, so I hugged him and left him laughing. The stairs of the carriage were folded up and we left, Carier on horseback in front of us, Nichols in the coach with me.

  Topsham was past Exeter, so it took us a couple of hours and more to reach it, and when we did, we went straight to an inn near the quay. I was shown to a comfortable room upstairs with a private parlour. There was always the danger someone might recognise me so close to home, so Nichols warned me to keep myself close. “I beg your pardon, my lady, but I have to call you ma’am from now on.”

  “I’m more used to it,” I confessed. “I was ‘ma’am’ until this morning, so I should be fine with that.”

  Nichols managed a smile. “Should you like to take some dinner now, ma’am?”

  “I suppose so.” Although I hadn’t eaten much at the wedding breakfast, I still wasn’t hungry. “Where’s Carier?”

  “Making sure everything is as it should be, ma’am. That no one followed us, and no one has booked a passage on the boat we’re to take in the morning after we bought our tickets.”

  “Is there an alternative plan?”

  “There are other routes, ma’am, other identities but we shouldn’t need to use them. From now on I will refer to your husband as Mr. Locke, in public and in private.”

  I felt like a piece of valuable baggage, to be preserved at all costs, but not consulted. “Do I have any say at all in any of this?”

  “Mr. Locke said you would ask sooner or later and he asked me to give you this.” Out of her pocket, she took an unsealed note. I took the note and sat down on the hard chair by the window and read it.

  “My dearest life,

  I know all this protection will irk you, and I know you will ask. All I can say is this was arranged in too much of a hurry and you must forgive us if we seem a little high handed. Carier and Nichols have my full trust. Please do as they say, they have only your interests at heart. Travel safely my heart. You have all my love.

  Yours, R.”

  I closed the note and held it tightly. He must have taken time to write it just before he left.

  Nichols’s pragmatic tones broke into my melancholy. “You must destroy it, ma’am,”

  I clutched the paper closer. “Why? He hasn’t signed it.”

  “It has his intentions in it, and it’s in his own handwriting. I’m sorry, ma’am,” she added, as she saw my face.

  I gave her the note. “You do it, Nichols. I haven’t the heart to.” I watched as she tore the note into shreds, put the pieces in a dish, took a light from the fire and ignited them, all very methodical, very calm. She was right. It would be a foolish chance to take at this stage. I assumed my luggage now held nothing personal, not even the new monogrammed toilet set Martha had given me as part of her wedding gift.

  “He sent you something, ma’am.” Nichols went over to my dressing case, the old one I’d always used, without any fancy lettering, and lifted out the first layer, and the second. Then she pulled out something from underneath and gave the objects to me.

  I weighed the knife in my hand, one of the wicked little Italian stilettos Richard was in the habit of carrying. He threw them with great accuracy, a skill he said he’d learned on the Grand Tour. I couldn’t do this, but still the knife might be useful. It was slim, flexible and razor sharp, resting in a plain leather scabbard that I could easily slip into my pocket.

  The other item was a pair of small pistols in a box. “Can you shoot, ma’am?”

  I gave her a look of derision. “I’m a country girl, Nichols. Of course I can shoot.” Better than she thought, I’d wager.

  Beautifully chased and blued, with a box of ammunition and one of powder, yet with no trigger I could see. I held a pistol up and saw a small groove where the trigger should have been.

  “It’s a new design,” Nichols informed me. “The trigger pops down when you cock the hammer.”

  I made sure the weapon wasn’t loaded before I pulled the hammer back. Sure enough the trigger appeared below from a spring mechanism. It was like a magic trick.

  “It stops it going off in your pocket, or when you withdraw it, ma’am,” Nichols explained. I saw the reasoning, and I could see how it would make carrying it around that much easier.

  I released the hammer and watched the trigger slide back inside the slim, metal tube. “I shall sleep better with one of these under my pillow. Are you armed, Nichols?”

  For answer my maid put a hand into her pocket and withdrew a pistol from it; larger than mine, but just as useful. She pulled up her skirt and showed me the dagger hidden beneath it and then showed me a device I had never seen before, which looked like a series of finger rings joined tog
ether.

  “What does that do?” I asked, diverted by the intriguing object.

  The maid slipped the device on her right hand, and made a fist. “Now if I hit someone it will make much more damage. You can get a good effect if you hold something hard in your hand, as well, such as a handful of stones, or one large one.”

  I listened, appalled and fascinated in equal measure. “Good God, Nichols, where did you learn those tricks?”

  “On the street, ma’am.” She put her lethal rings away. “I wasn’t always a lady’s maid.” I might have known. Richard had a highly eclectic circle of friends and influence. I imagined Nichols came from the more colourful side.

  I ate as much of my dinner as I could when it was brought to me, and read a book until it was time for me to retire—or rather, tried to read.

  Nichols slept on a truckle bed in my room and I didn’t give way to my tears until I heard her deep, regular breathing.

  THE NEXT MORNING AT about six we went aboard the packet, an unremarkable vessel, much like many I had seen over the years, but never boarded until today. We sailed down the estuary towards Exmouth. Carier and Nichols insisted I remained below decks, out of sight while they investigated the other passengers. My cabin did have a porthole and as we left, I looked back, saying a mental goodbye to everything I had known up to now. I felt no excitement as I should have in the circumstances, no elation. It should have been so different, this morning. I saw a vessel unlike the others, smoother, sleeker, and guessed that must be the yacht. I should be aboard, sleeping the morning away in my husband’s arms.

  A plume of smoke went up from the ship, and a tongue of bright orange flame, piercing the peaceful blue of the sky. After a second, the dull sound of a percussive note filtered through the porthole and heedless of my guardians’ warnings, I ran out of the cabin and up on deck.

  Passengers and crew crowded to one side of the packet, affording a perfect view of the yacht, now fiercely alight, fire shooting out of the portholes and licking at the sails, until now neatly furled against the masts. I stared, numb with shock until I felt Nichol’s hand on mine and I realised I was clutching the handrail too tightly.

  A respectable looking matron, her eyes aglow with excitement, gave me a small nod. I nodded back and decided to pretend ignorance, the better to discover more. “What on earth is that?”

  “An explosion, ma’am. About five minutes ago, maybe ten, it was. Just went up like it was full of gunpowder.”

  Tension clawed at my throat. “An explosion? Was there anyone aboard?”

  She gave me a curious stare. “Did you hear about the society wedding in Exeter yesterday?”

  “I heard something, yes.” I exchanged a brief glance with Nichols.

  “Well the groom, Lord Strange—”

  “Strang,” I corrected her automatically.

  “Yes, Strang, that’s it. He was taking his bride on a cruise. They might be on that ship. Poor things,” she added, more as a sop to conscience than with any real concern, I thought.

  “So they were aboard?”

  “I don’t know for sure. Certainly someone arrived on the quayside late last night and took ship, and from the coach they arrived in they weren’t servants. The new Lady Strang was taken ill at the wedding breakfast. Nerves, I’d say—” She winked at me. “I’d lay a pound to a penny that was them last night.”

  If I hadn’t taken such a firm hold of the rail I would have fallen. It would have been us if matters had fallen differently, or if Richard hadn’t decided to take precautions. The world eddied around me. I felt Nichols’s hand on my elbow, anxiously trying to steady me. “How terrible,” I managed, my voice sounding strangely normal.

  The lady seemed to notice nothing unusual in my reaction. She leaned towards me in a confiding manner. “I went into Exeter yesterday and I got a glimpse of them when they came out of the Cathedral.”

  “Oh yes?”

  “Beautiful they were, both of them. I’ve rarely seen the like. They were married here because she’s a local girl, you see. Can’t place her myself and I’ve been following local society all my life but I know about her family. Her brother’s just become an earl, and by all accounts, it’s gone to his head something dreadful. He’s planning all kinds of things to his house. I know because my brother’s been asked to help. He has a building business, and he’s forever up there these days, working on plans and the like.” I knew how small Exeter society was, and how wise Carier was to check the passenger list before and after we came aboard. “It’s a large family, so I daresay they need the room. We were all surprised when they came home, as they’d gone up North when they inherited. Still, I always say Devonshire’s the best country in the world, you can’t beat it for beauty, and I’ve always thought it must get cold up North.” I murmured some kind of agreement and let her run on, like a stream of never ending gossip, but it gave me the respite I needed to gain control of myself once more.

  “We’ve got half London society here, but they won’t stay long, I don’t suppose. They don’t know quality when they see it, these people. Are you a local girl, dear?”

  “From the other side, near Bideford,” I managed. Nichols’s hand was still firmly at my elbow, supporting me.

  “I met someone from Bideford once,” the lady mused. “Nice woman, but I can’t remember her name.”

  “How do you hear all these things?” I asked her.

  “Oh, I take an interest in the gentry.” She gave a careless wave of her hand. “I’ve got prints of almost all of them at home. Strange I haven’t got one of the new Lady Strang, though; I had a look yesterday. I found one of her sister—beautiful girl by all accounts.” She would have one of Lizzie. “Poor lady! Most likely dead, her and her new husband.”

  That was enough for me. I let Nichols lead me back down to my cabin. Carier, who had been watching the exchange from a distance, followed us. Nichols found some wine and I invited them to take a drink for themselves and sit, which they did.

  “I will send a communication ahead to Mr. Locke when we dock at Cherbourg,” said Carier. “He must be told as soon as possible. I would ride for him myself, but I’m under strict orders not to leave you under any circumstances, ma’am.”

  I nodded. “What if I ordered you to go?”

  “With all due respect, ma’am, his orders must come first with me.” I wasn’t surprised; Richard was very thorough in his planning. “There’s no doubt, ma’am, we’re in this for the long haul. That was a follow-up to last night’s attempt. When they heard that had failed, they would have made plans to board the yacht.”

  “Wouldn’t it take time to load gunpowder on to it?”

  Carier grimaced. “Not necessarily, ma’am. A few travelling trunks and the thing is done. We offloaded your luggage as quietly as possible, but with all the coming and going ashore, they could have put something aboard before we tightened the guard around the yacht.” He sipped his wine and put it aside. “If it’s the smugglers, it could have been meant as a warning, as well, something spectacular to prove they’re kings of the coast. That seems likely to me, but we must leave the investigation to others ashore. In that case, they could have loaded the gunpowder with the regular supplies.”

  “Can you find someone quickly in Cherbourg?” I was as anxious as he that Richard should be informed.

  “There should be a Thompson’s man available. I’ll send the message in code,” he said.

  I took a sip of the tart wine and understood why Carier had rejected it, but I needed the fortification. “That will have to do, then. I hope no one was killed on the yacht.”

  “We have no way of knowing that, ma’am.”

  I wasn’t too concerned by this fiery confirmation, only by the narrow escape I’d had. That was what had made me feel momentarily faint on deck, not the thought that someone hated us enough to try to kill us. Richard had made many enemies in the past. To kill him as he attained his greatest happiness was the best kind of revenge. I began to see that Rich
ard’s reticence in public on the matter of his feelings for me was protection for me, as well as his natural inclination.

  Nichols gave me a ring, an old wedding ring, scratched from use, which must serve me until Venice. Mrs. Locke had been married for five years and would not have a brand new wedding ring such as the one I wore. Taking off my ring came as another wrench, because Richard had put it there, but I saw the necessity and put it on the gold chain to join my ruby betrothal ring, hidden below the neck of my gown.

  We reached Cherbourg safely, and another anonymous, clean, comfortable inn. I kept my own counsel, my melancholy deepening with every night I spent with only Nichols for company.

  For the next five days, I remained sunk in gloom. We travelled post chaise, changing horses frequently to ensure speed. I kept thinking about what should have been and every time we reached an inn I had a faint hope I would find a message there, but there was never anything. Carier didn’t ask about Richard, as this might have drawn attention to him, and he could find nothing out from the people he got into casual conversation with. Sometimes I caught Nichols watching me with a particularly sympathetic expression in her grey eyes, but she said nothing. There was nothing she could do.

  Chapter Five

  CARIER BEGAN TO PICK up messages from Richard, but after the one I had received in Topsham they were all verbal, left with trusted messengers at inns along the way, encrypted so Carier had to translate them for me. We knew he had passed that way, when, and that he was well. These messages helped me immeasurably—to know he was safe was all I asked. He was pulling away from us, getting faster where we maintained a constant speed, although we wasted no time either. At first, I watched nothing, took interest in nothing, but I could not spend my whole time journeying and not taking note of my surroundings and my experiences. Nothing a seasoned traveller would consider notable, but to my eyes and ears, noteworthy indeed.