There seemed to be no limit to the effort Sir John Rievers was prepared to make for his guests. He was determined that they would thoroughly enjoy their first visit to England. When Emanuel Janssen expressed an interest in meeting the architect of Blenheim Palace, their host promptly arranged it, assuring Janssen that – with his Flemish ancestry – Vanbrugh would have much in common with him. Amalia’s need for diversion was not ignored. Having discovered that she was a keen horsewoman, Sir John took her out riding that afternoon to show her his estate and something of the countryside beyond. It was many years since his wife had been able to ride out with him and that caused him profound regret. Mounted on a bay mare, Amalia made use of the beautiful side-saddle given as a present to Lady Rievers by her husband. It had the family crest on it.
‘Father was so grateful to you for the opportunity to meet Mr Vanbrugh,’ she said, as they trotted together across unspoilt parkland. ‘He’ll be enthralled.’
‘I didn’t want to ruin the surprise by warning him,’ said Sir John, ‘but he’ll find that he and Vanbrugh have an unusual bond.’
‘Oh?’
‘Both have seen the inside of the Bastille.’
‘But for different reasons, surely,’ she said. ‘Father was held there because he was suspected of spying for the enemy.’
‘John Vanbrugh was also alleged to be a spy.’
She was taken aback. ‘Is that why he was imprisoned there?’
‘Yes, Miss Janssen,’ said Sir John. ‘Unfortunately for Vanbrugh, he had no Captain Rawson to rescue him. He was kept behind bars for a long time. Being a man with a lively mind, Vanbrugh didn’t simply languish in his cell. He whiled away the time by writing plays.’
‘Father could never have done that.’
Sir John smiled. ‘Even if he had been a dramatist, I don’t think your dear father would have produced anything as robust and highly seasoned as Vanbrugh did. Dutch taste is a little more conservative, I fancy. Plays like The Relapse and The Provok’d Wife would cause a scandal in Amsterdam. They made Vanbrugh famous and set London laughing for many a month.’
‘So he’s both playwright and architect,’ she said, impressed.
‘Oh, he’s far more than that. At one time, for instance, he held a captaincy in the army. Vanbrugh has also been a theatre manager and he dabbles in politics. His position as Comptroller of Works makes him influential, so people flock to gain his acquaintance.’
‘And yet he found time in his busy life to see Father. That’s very gracious of so celebrated a man.’
‘Vanbrugh and I are old friends,’ said Sir John, easily. ‘He wouldn’t refuse a request from me. But enough of your father’s interest in architecture,’ he continued. ‘One of the reasons I wanted time with you alone was to hear more about this splendid Captain Rawson of yours. Where is he at the moment?’
‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘I haven’t heard from Daniel since he left Amsterdam. He rarely has time to write.’
‘Then I may know more than you, Miss Janssen. According to reports, the Allies are besieging Lille. Captain Rawson’s regiment is certain to be involved. I can find out more, if you wish.’
‘Oh – yes, please, Sir John!’
‘It pays to have friends in the right places. And as an old army man, I like to follow the conduct of the war. Indeed, left to myself, I’d probably be taking part in it but, as you saw, my wife needs me here.’
‘Lady Rievers is an example to us all,’ said Amalia. ‘She bears her ill health without any complaint.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed with a sigh. ‘Unfortunately, her malady gets worse by the day. Her physician is unable to alleviate her suffering, still less to cure its root cause. We’re both resigned to the fact that our time together may be limited.’
Amalia was upset. ‘I feel so guilty for taking you away from her.’
‘No, Amalia, don’t vex yourself over that. My wife spends most of the afternoon asleep. Besides, there’s a sense in which I am spending time with Barbara.’
‘I don’t follow you, Sir John.’
There was a long pause. ‘Let’s ride down to the lake.’
Kicking their horses into a gentle canter, they rode on until they came around the edge of a copse and saw the water shimmering ahead of them. Oval in shape, the lake was dotted with tiny islands that each had their own inhabitants. Ducks, swans, geese and other waterfowl waddled among the reeds. Squawking conversations were held about territorial rights and there was an occasional flurry of wings and an angry extended neck.
‘It’s beautiful,’ said Amalia, enchanted by the scene.
She gazed at it for a long time, watching the swans moving serenely through the water and the ducklings swimming uncertainly behind their mothers. Five geese flew overhead together before coming in to land on the bank. After watching them for a long while, Amalia became aware that Sir John was staring at her.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said with an apologetic smile. ‘It’s just that you remind me so much of my wife when she was your age. That’s why I brought you to this particular spot, Miss Janssen. I proposed to Barbara under this very tree.’ He touched her shoulder. ‘Thank you so much for helping me to revive that memory if only for a fleeting moment. I appreciate it. However,’ he added, ‘you still haven’t told me all there is to tell about Captain Rawson. Do you fret when he’s involved in a campaign? When do you expect to see him again? Have you and he made any plans for the future? Come on,’ he urged. ‘I want to know everything.’
CHAPTER NINE
Knowing the inevitable response from his friend, Daniel was too embarrassed to recount what had happened in his room during the night. It would only have served to confirm Welbeck’s prejudices against women and give him an excuse to deliver his well-worn lecture on their essential wickedness. Daniel was keen to avoid creating any tension in the Coq d’Or. When he confided his news over breakfast next morning, therefore, he made no mention whatsoever of Estelle or of her troubling infatuation with him.
‘It seems that someone informed against Rachel,’ he said. ‘They claimed to have seen her leaving the town hall through the main door at the very time when the guards were dealing with the fire.’
Welbeck was incredulous. ‘That’s absurd,’ he protested. ‘Who’d ever believe that it was Rachel Rees who climbed onto the roof? With a dead weight like that on it, the rope would have snapped in two and she’d have fallen to her death.’
‘Don’t be unkind, Henry.’
‘Do you believe she could have done what you did?’
‘Of course not,’ said Daniel.
‘Then why treat her as a suspect?’
‘The person who sent the anonymous letter claimed that Rachel was in the company of a man. They’d have assumed that he’d actually broken into the place and that she was acting as a lookout for him. There was only a shadowy description of him, apparently, but Rachel was described in some detail. She is unmistakable. How many women like her are there in Lille?’
‘None at all,’ replied Welbeck, sourly. ‘No wonder they picked her out so easily. Rachel would stick out from a million women. She’s frighteningly unique.’ He reached for some more bread. ‘Yet the odd thing is that she had nothing to do with the theft at the town hall.’
‘We know that, Henry, but they don’t. When I was breaking into the place, she was here in the tavern. However,’ said Daniel, thinking it over, ‘strictly speaking, she is my accomplice so they’ve arrested the right person without realising it.’
‘Who informed on her?’
‘I wish I knew!’
‘It has to be someone from here, surely,’ said Welbeck through a mouthful of bread. ‘From what you’ve told me, Rachel spent most of her time at the tavern, and I know from personal experience that she has a gift for upsetting people.’
‘She may have upset you, Henry, but every woman does that simply by virtue of her existence. As it happens, when she worked here in the bar, Rachel made lots of friends. You ask Madame Li
zier,’ suggested Daniel. ‘She thought Rachel was a wonderful serving wench because of her vitality.’
‘That’s one thing I do admit. She’s full of life. Rachel has ten times the energy of someone like Madame Lizier’s sister – what’s her name again?’
‘Estelle.’
‘She strikes me as a rather cold, miserable creature.’
Daniel thought about the fervour shown by Estelle when she joined him in bed. She’d been neither cold nor miserable then. But he said nothing to Welbeck. She, too, had resolved to keep silent about the events of the night. Overcome with remorse at what she’d done, she told Daniel that she’d been in the grip of a wild hope that she now realised could never be fulfilled. That’s what had driven her to take such extreme and damaging action. She chastised herself for using Rachel as a means of luring Daniel back to the town but it was the only way she could think of doing it. Rueful and contrite, she’d sobbed in his attic room for the best part of an hour until he managed to calm her down. When she left, Estelle had been sobered. Daniel knew that she’d never dare to jump into his bed again.
‘What about that French soldier, Dan?’ asked Welbeck.
‘Which one?’
‘The one you dropped in the horse trough.’
‘Oh, that was Sergeant Furneaux.’
‘He must have been upset when Rachel rejected him. Perhaps he was the one who had her arrested.’
‘It could well be,’ said Daniel, concealing the truth.
‘What happens now?’
‘We have to wait until Madame Lizier gets back from the gaol. She likes to visit her husband every morning and take in food for him. I’m hoping that she may have news of Rachel.’
Welbeck was mordant. ‘Then it’s sure to be bad news.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘It’s all she’s ever brought you, Dan. Because of her, you came close to being killed by that Hessian officer and now you have to risk your life again to release her from gaol.’
‘It’s not Rachel’s fault that she was arrested.’
‘Everything is her damned fault.’
Daniel laughed derisively. ‘So if we have a thunderstorm today, that’s her fault as well, is it?’
‘It probably is.’
Accepting that his claim was ludicrous, Welbeck grinned sheepishly. He also remembered the seductive aroma of his favourite tobacco and that stopped him from making any more tart remarks about her. He and Daniel finished their breakfast. They were about to get up when Estelle came into the room. It was the first time she’d seen Daniel since their nocturnal encounter and she found it difficult to look him in the eye.
‘My sister has just come back from the gaol,’ she told them.
Daniel was on his feet at once. ‘And?’
‘She wasn’t even admitted.’
‘Why was that?’
‘Guillaume is no longer there.’
‘Where has he gone?’
‘They’ve taken him off to join the men at work on the outer defences. That’s where he’ll be every day from now on.’
‘I must speak to her,’ said Daniel.
Followed by Welbeck and Estelle, he left the room and went straight to the kitchen where Bette Lizier was perched on a stool, staring ahead of her, lost in thought. When the others entered, she needed time to come out of her reverie. She looked forlorn and Daniel sensed that she’d been crying.
‘We hear that you were turned away from the gaol,’ he said.
‘That’s right, Alain,’ she replied, sadly. ‘Guillaume is not there.’
‘Is there a time when you can see your husband?’
‘No – they told me not to come back.’
‘That’s going to make things more difficult.’
Welbeck was dejected. ‘It’s made our task impossible.’
‘Not necessarily.’
‘What earthly chance do we have?’
‘I don’t know,’ confessed Daniel, ‘but we mustn’t give up. It’s a setback, I grant you, but that’s all it is. Madame Lizier has at least been able to give us a sketch of the gaol.’
‘What use is that?’
‘It may prove to be a great deal of use.’
‘I don’t see how,’ said Welbeck. ‘If you ask me, we may as well abandon the whole project right now.’
‘Oh no!’ cried Estelle, ‘you mustn’t do that.’
‘No,’ said Bette. ‘It would be so unfair on Rachel.’
‘We won’t give up,’ Daniel assured her. ‘We came for her and we won’t leave Lille without her.’
‘Thank you, Alain. She and Guillaume are two of a kind. They’ve both been arrested on the word of some anonymous informer.’
‘Yes,’ said Welbeck, vengefully. ‘I’d like to get my hands on the man responsible for putting Rachel in that gaol. I’d throttle him until his eyes popped out.’
Estelle reddened guiltily but neither he nor Bette noticed. Her reaction wasn’t lost on Daniel, however. Seeing how much she was suffering, he began to feel sorry for her. Acting on impulse, she’d caused an immense amount of trouble without really intending to do so. She simply hadn’t considered the full consequences of what she was doing. Estelle was now tormented by her impetuous action and Bette was on the verge of despair. To rally them, Daniel tried to sound confident.
‘We’ll devise a plan to get her out of there somehow,’ he told Welbeck. ‘Escape is always possible.’
‘What did you have in mind?’ asked his friend, cynically. ‘A trumpet that blows down the gaol like the walls of Jericho – or do you happen to have a magic carpet to whisk us over the walls?’
‘There’s no need to be so sarcastic.’
‘I’m simply facing facts. The streets of Lille are crawling with French soldiers. You saw that when we first arrived. How can two of us outwit a garrison of that size?’
‘It’s not just the two of us,’ Daniel argued. ‘There’s Raymond as well. He helped me last time.’
‘You can also rely on me, remember,’ affirmed Bette.
‘Then there’s me,’ said Estelle with conviction. ‘Please, please call on me, Alain. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to get Rachel out of there. If it were possible, I’d willingly change places with her. It must be terrible for her inside that gaol. Rachel will be distraught.’
* * *
When she finally managed to fall asleep, it seemed like minutes before Rachel Rees was awake again, roused by the sustained clamour of cell doors being opened and clanged shut. There was a loud clatter as the prisoners were marched off at dawn to start work on the fortifications. Unknown to her, Guillaume Lizier was one of them. After the tumult of their departure, there was a long silence and the gaol felt strangely empty. Rachel took the opportunity to make use of the wooden bucket while she was not under surveillance by Pons. It was a rare moment of privacy. When breakfast eventually came, it was so unappetising that she tipped it into the bucket with the beaker of foul water she was offered. Starvation was a more appealing option.
An hour later, she was taken out for questioning. Relieved to be out of her cell, she was grateful to be able to sit on a chair in the far more comfortable surroundings of a large room. The interrogation was conducted by a short, trim individual in a smart uniform. Captain Aumonier had a handsome face disfigured by an unsightly rash on both cheeks. He introduced himself with politeness. His voice was low, his manner unthreatening.
‘I hope that this will not take long,’ he began.
‘You’re not the only one,’ said Rachel with feeling. ‘I want to be released immediately. You’ve no reason to hold me.’
‘We’ll come to that in a moment. Can you first confirm that you are Madame Rachel Borrel?’
‘Yes, I can.’
‘What are you doing in Lille?’
‘I came to sell my goods in the market.’ A memory nudged her. ‘By the way, what’s happened to my horse and donkey? They’re my livelihood.’
‘Did you come to the town alone?’
‘Yes,’ she lied, determined to make no reference to Daniel.
‘What about your husband?’
‘Which husband do you mean?’
He was amused. ‘How many have you had?’
‘Three so far,’ she said. ‘The first two were soldiers and both were killed in battle. My third husband, Alain, died of a fever last year. I’ll not marry again.’
‘Where were you two nights ago, Madame?’ he asked, eyelids narrowing as he concentrated his gaze. ‘Think back.’
‘I was fast asleep in bed.’
‘And where was that?’
Rachel paused to consider her answer. In the event of arrest, Daniel had warned her, she was to say as little as possible. Whatever happened, she was not to reveal where she’d been staying or the Coq d’Or would come under suspicion. Since its landlord was already in custody, his family might well join him. Bette Lizier, her son and her sister had been unfailingly kind to Rachel and she was anxious not to incriminate them in any way. Captain Aumonier was impatient.
‘Well, Madame, have you forgotten already?’ he pressed.
‘No, no, that’s not the problem.’
‘Then what is, pray?’
‘I don’t wish you to think ill of me, Captain.’
‘Now why should I do that?’
She gave a guilty smile. ‘I wasn’t alone that night.’
‘Ah, I see. You shared a bed with someone else. And would the gentleman in question be prepared to vouch for that? Give me his address and I’ll have him sent for at once.’
‘That would be pointless, I fear. He’ll deny even knowing me because he has a wife. He forgot all about her when he was with me, of course, but that’s the way with married men.’
He continued to stare at her through half-closed lids. Not wanting to meet his gaze, she looked at the rash on his face and wondered if it was giving him any pain. Rachel felt increasingly uneasy. Captain Aumonier didn’t believe her. She could tell.
‘Does this fellow have a name?’ he asked.
‘I’d rather not say what it is, Captain.’
4 Under Siege Page 14