The Rising Storm rb-3

by Dennis Wheatley

  "As you will, sir." Mr. Merry bowed. "But unlike the sandy tracks over which you have been struggling in your journey across Estramadura and Castile, the road between the capital and the King's country home is a fine one; so if we leave at eight we should be there early in the afternoon."

  Although it was only April, when Roger arrived in Madrid he had found it sizzling with a heat that is rarely experienced in England except during the height of summer, yet on the following morning it was near freezing. As he stood shivering in his cloak, Mr. Merry told him that these extremes of temperature occurred daily and were due to Madrid being over 2,000 feet above sea level; then as they drove through the city he pointed out such few buildings as were of interest. Roger knew that it was far from old, as capitals go, and he found little to admire in it, apart from one broad modern boulevard called the Prado—which had been constructed by the Conde d'Aranda—and the situation of the city, with the snow-capped peaks of the Sierra de Guadarrama outlined against a blue sky in the distance to the northward.

  Aranjuez had been selected as the site of a royal residence from its very pleasant surroundings, as it lies in the middle of a fertile plain where the river Jarama joins the upper Tagus, and the country round about forms the principle market-garden for Madrid. The little town was the most modern in Spain, as it had been built to a definite plan only forty years earlier, and the Palace was a large late-Renaissance building erected twenty-five years before the town.

  As they arrived before three o'clock they found the whole place deserted, for the midday siesta was not yet over; but by the time the servants they had brought with them had opened up the villa, the same types of cloaked, sombrero-hatted men, and gaily shawled, mantillaed women as Roger had seen in Madrid, began to appear in the streets.

  All through his long journey across Portugal and Spain he had been harassed by a double anxiety about Isabella. She had been due to have her baby in the latter part of March, and it was now April 10th. Yet he still did not know if all had gone well with her, and she had come safely through the ordeal. Then, if she had, there was still the awful thought that during the past fortnight her husband might have poisoned her. In consequence, now that he was at last within an ace of obtaining news that would either still or confirm his fears, he could hardly contain his impatience to get to the Palace.

  Mr. Merry had declared that five o'clock was the earliest hour at which a noble Spaniard could possibly be expected to do business, so at a few minutes to the hour their carriage carried them down a fine avenue and through the formal gardens with which the Palace was surrounded to the wing of it which was occupied by the Prime Minister.

  In due course they were received by one of the gentlemen who assisted Count Florida Blanca in the transaction of foreign business: the Caballero Heredia. It transpired that the Caballero had served for some time in the Spanish Embassy in Paris, so he spoke fluent French. He made Roger gravely welcome, examined his credentials and assured him blandly that the Prime Minister would be most happy to grant him an audience at an early date. He added that he hoped that in the meantime Roger would avail himself of the amenities of the Palace, and that the next day being Sunday there was a Court, at which no doubt he could arrange to be presented.

  Having thanked him, Roger said: "It is my misfortune, Senor Caballero, to have few Spanish friends, but while in Naples I made the acquaintance of a charming couple, the Conde and Condesa Sidonia y Ulloa; and they are, I think, now in Spain. I wonder if you can tell me anything of them?"

  "Why, yes," replied the Caballero, with a smile. "I knew the Condesa when she lived at the Court of France, before her marriage; and I am happy to be able to give you good news of her. She presented her husband with an heir some three weeks back, and they arrived here to pay their court to Their Majesties only two days ago. No doubt you will see your friends tomorrow night."

  Enormously relieved, Roger said how pleased he would be to see them again; then, after some further polite conversation with the Caballero Heredia, the two Englishmen withdrew.

  Relieved as Roger was he found the next twenty-four hours drag interminably. For a while he occupied himself with an evening walk round Aranjuez with Mr. Merry, but there was nothing to see there except the people. There were few women in the streets; they sat in the deep embrasures of open ground-floor windows which were raised some feet above the street level. Every window was heavily barred; in the better houses with an elaborate iron scrollwork that bellied outward in a graceful curve. The men lounged in the street outside. The smarter of them were most colourfully clad, with bright sashes round their waists and scarves round their necks, tight trousers, short jackets and little black hats with pom-poms, beneath which their dark hair was caught up in a net. Many of them carried guitars, and strummed upon them as they softly serenaded their favourite senoritas.

  As the season of the Sunday bull-fights did not begin till May, Roger whiled away most of the day as best he could, thinking over what he would say to Count Florida Blanca when he obtained an audience. The mission he had been given was, he felt, his great chance; but it was no easy one, for if the Spaniards attempted to procrastinate, as they almost certainly would, he had strict instructions to stand no nonsense from them. So peace or war hung by a thread, and his triumph would be all the greater if he could maintain the high tone required by Mr. Pitt and yet prevent war breaking out.

  At last it was time to go to the Palace; and at six o'clock he was ushered with Mr. Merry into a vast reception-room on its first floor. There were already some hundred ladies and gentlemen present and Roger knew that the same formality would be gone through as he had witnessed at Versailles. When the whole Court was assembled the approach of Their Majesties would be announced, the company would form into a human lane, and the Sovereigns would slowly pass down it. In this case, however, Mr. Merry having been to see the Grand Chamberlain earlier in the day, that functionary would attract the Monarchs' attention to them, and he would be given the opportunity to present his new colleague.

  But Roger had no thought for his coming presentation; he was swiftly scanning the crowd for Isabella. After a moment he caught sight of Don Diego, and then of Isabella beside him. With a murmured apology to Mr. Merry, he quickly made his way towards the couple.

  At sight of him Isabella's tanned face paled, but she covered her confusion by dropping him a low curtsy in response to his bow. Don Diego also recognized him at once and greeted him very civilly. Roger said that he had heard of their happy event and was delighted to congratulate them upon it; then they began to talk of their mutual friends in Naples.

  After a few moments another gentleman claimed Don Diego's attention, so Roger was able to move a little apart with Isabella. "My love," she breathed. "My love, I can hardly believe it true that it is really you I see."

  "Or I, that I am with you again, my own," he whispered, as he took in all the detail of the thin, fine, dark-browed face that had caused him such an agony of love those last days in Naples.

  They were standing opposite the main doorway and some distance from it. People were still arriving and at that moment a couple entered. The man was in his sixties, of medium height, and with a thinnish, clever face. The woman was in her early twenties. She had dark hair, black eyes, a faultless complexion, a determined chin and a full, red mouth. Her figure was well rounded for her height and in perfect proportion; her beauty was so dazzling that she eclipsed every other woman in the room.

  Isabella touched Roger on the arm, and her whisper came almost in a hiss. "Look! That is the English woman to marry whom my husband plans to poison me!"

  Roger's only reply was a gasp. The superbly beautiful creature, round whom a court of bowing men had instantly gathered, was the woman he counted dearer than any other in the world—Georgina Etheredge.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  INTRIGUE AT ARANJUEZ

  ISABELLA half-turned to whisper again behind her fan to Roger; but, seeing the expression of astonishment on his face as he s
tared at Georgina, she exclaimed: "Why do you look so surprised? Is it that you know her?"

  "Why, yes," Roger answered in a low voice. "She is my dearest— my oldest friend."

  "Madonna mia!" Isabella passed the tip of her tongue over her suddenly dry hps. "Rojé! You cannot mean that you, too, have been ensnared by her? Yet from the way you speak . . ."

  "No, no! I mean only that we have known one another since childhood. I—I regard her as a sister."

  Isabella's dark brows drew together. "A sister! Only as a sister? Do you swear to me she has never been more to you than that?"

  "Hush!" whispered Roger. "I beg you to control yourself. We are observed. But I can assure you of one thing. You are entirely mistaken in your estimate of her character. She is the kindest and sweetest creature; she would harm no one willingly."

  ‘Yet she would have me poisoned, so that she may marry one of the greatest fortunes and titles in Spain."

  Roger turned and looked straight into Isabella's eyes. His voice was suddenly hard. "Have you one scrap of evidence that Lady Etheredge has knowledge of this fell design of which you accuse your husband?"

  "No," Isabella faltered. "No. Yet 'tis rumoured here that she killed her own husband some two years ago and narrowly escaped hanging for it."

  " 'Tis true that she killed him; but by accident. I was a party to the matter and know every detail of it. Her innocence was vindicated at the trial." His voice took on a more gentle note. "I see now how it is that you have been led to think such ill of her; but I swear to you that you do her an injustice. I beg you, too, .to believe that my love is entirely yours, and that now I am here I would die rather than let harm befall you."

  Georgina had just caught sight of Roger. Excusing herself from the gentlemen who surrounded her, she waved her fan in delighted recogni­tion, then took her father's arm, and they came through the crowd towards him. When the two women had exchanged curtsys Roger kissed Georgina's hand and shook that of Colonel Thursby heartily.

  They exclaimed with surprise at seeing him in Spain, and he explained his presence by saying that he had been asked to negotiate some questions regarding shipping with the Spanish Government. He then learnt how they came to be at the Court of Madrid. They had meant to spend two months in Naples, but they had met the Sidonia y Ulloas there and Don Diego had persuaded them to be his guests in Spain for a few weeks before returning to England.

  Don Diego had by that time rejoined the group. He clearly found it difficult to conceal his displeasure at finding Georgina talking in English with such animation to Roger, evidently fearing in him a possible rival. His dark eyes never left her face, and Isabella had fallen ominously silent; but Georgina did not appear to notice the electric atmosphere, and with her usual gaiety she rattled on until an usher called for silence.

  Mr. Merry appeared at Roger's side as the Court formed up to do homage to the Sovereigns, and a few minutes later King Carlos and

  Queen Maria Luisa entered the lofty chamber. In due course the Grand Chamberlain drew Their Majesties' attention to the two Englishman, and when they had made their bow the King said to Roger, in French:

  " You are welcome to my Court, Monsieur Brook. Have you ever been to Spain before ?"

  "No, Your Majesty," Roger replied. "I have travelled considerably in numerous other countries, but this is the first time I have had the pleasure of visiting your dominions."

  "In which countries have you travelled, Monsieur?"

  "Mostly in France, Sire. I have visited Holland, Denmark, Sweden, Russia and Italy; but during the past year I have spent more time in Paris than elsewhere."

  Queen Maria Luisa was regarding Roger intently with her small black eyes. She was, he thought, of an incredible ugliness. Her mouth was huge and her false teeth rattled in it as she addressed him:

  "Were you, Monsieur, a witness to the deplorable events which have shaken the foundations of the French throne?"

  He bowed. "I was at Versailles, Your Majesty, both on the night of the taking of the Bastille and of the mob's attack upon the Palace. Madame Marie Antoinette has for many months been gracious enough to number me among her gentlemen, so I was in consequence privy to all that passed at Court on those terrible occasions."

  The Queen turned to a fine strapping fellow in a splendid uniform who, with other members of the royal suite, was standing just behind her. "We should be interested to hear at first hand an account of these monstrous proceedings by the French people. Be pleased to bring Monsieur Brook to us tomorrow evening."

  Roger bowed again; then, just as the Queen was moving on, her eye fell upon Isabella. "Condesa," she added kindly. "You were in the service of Madame Marie Antoinette for some years, were you not? No doubt you too would be interested to hear news of your old mistress. You and your husband may wait upon us tomorrow night with Monsieur Brook."

  The reception lasted for about half an hour and during it Roger had no opportunity to speak further with Isabella in private, or with Georgina; but he managed to get a word with Colonel Thursby, just as the King and Queen were withdrawing.

  "Sir," he said, in a low voice. "I find that the business I am come to Spain upon intimately concerns Georgina, and must see her alone at the earliest possible moment. I pray you help me in this matter if you can."

  "There is nothing to prevent you calling upon me at any hour of the day or night," replied the Colonel with his quiet smile. "We are staying with the Sidonia y Ulloas; but as the Condesa was confined in the country, and arrived in Aranjuez only three days ago, it would not have been fitting for Don Diego to receive Georgina into his house in the absence of his wife; so he accommodated us very pleasantly in a pavilion in his garden. 'Tis on the left-hand side of the entrance drive, so you cannot fail to find it. If your business is urgent you had best come there an hour or so after this party breaks up; but I do not advise your doing so earlier. You may, perhaps, have observed that our host is strongly attracted to Georgina, and it might be unfortunate if he got the impression that you were paying her a midnight visit."

  Roger had hardly thanked him when the fine young man in the splendid uniform emerged from the crowd. As Roger had guessed, he proved to be Manuel Godoy, the Queen's favourite. Having introduced himself he asked Roger where he was staying, then requested him to wait upon him in his apartments at the Palace at seven o'clock the following evening.

  In addition to an elegant figure and handsome face, Godoy had an unusually attractive voice, although he spoke French with a heavy accent. He also had great charm of manner and an enthusiastic spon­taneity in his conversation rarely found in Spaniards; so Roger took an immediate liking to him.

  A band of violins was now playing indifferent music in one adjoining salon and a refreshment buffet was spread in another; so the guests had broken up into little groups and for about an hour continued to exchange politenesses and gossip. Don Diego stuck to Georgina like a leech, but Isabella was never alone for a moment, so Roger had to content himself with joining in the general conversation of the group from which she could not succeed in freeing herself.

  About nine o'clock the guests began to leave, and shortly afterwards Isabella, Georgina, Don Diego and Colonel Thursby all went off together. Roger had asked formal permission to call upon them and received the civil reply that they hoped to see a lot of him while he was in Aranjuez, so he had been able to take the opportunity of finding out the situation of the Sidonia y Ulloa mansion. Then he, too, left with Mr. Merry and they drove back to the Embassy villa.

  On their arrival Roger announced that, the night being fine, he intended to go for a walk. Mr. Merry, anxious to oblige in every way, offered to go with him, but he excused himself from accepting the offer on the plea that he had certain problems to think out; then he set off back in the direction of the Palace. His latter statement had at least been true, as he was still trying to adjust his mind to the extra­ordinary situation with which he had been confronted that evening; but he had some time to kill before he could make his
visit to Georgina, so, checking the impulse of his long legs to set off at a stride in pace with his mind, he forced himself to saunter.

  There were several things he could not understand. How could his dear, gay Georgina possibly be in love with that dull, conceited stick of a Spaniard ? Even if she were, as it was impossible for her to marry him, why, seeing that the wicked darling had indulged herself with a succession of lovers ever since she was sixteen, did she refuse her favours to Don Diego? And why, even were he free to marry her, since she was already rich and titled, should she consider for one moment giving up the carefree life she led in places like London and Vienna to settle in dull, etiquette-ridden Spain ?

  But of two things Roger was positive: Georgina could not con­ceivably be concerned in any plot to murder Isabella, and would give him all the help she possibly could to elope with her. He then began to wonder if there was any real foundation for the plot at all. Had Don Diego's English siren proved to be the hard, fortune-hunting adventuress he had expected, his belief in the plot would not have been shaken, but Georgina being the lady in question made it far less probable; and he now recalled that the only evidence for its existence lay in the word of little Quetzal.

  That led to another thought. Would Isabella insist on taking Maria and Quetzal with her? If so it was going to prove next to impossible to bring off a successful elopement. On leaving London Roger's plans for running away with Isabella had been of the vaguest, but he had had reasonable confidence in his ability to arrange matters on the lines such affairs usually took in England and France. In either, or most other countries, there would have been nothing to prevent their getting away in a coach with well-paid servants and relays of fast horses arranged for in advance. But he had counted without the special difficulties which confronted travellers in Spain.

  The coaches were drawn by mules and the state of the roads was so appalling that it was impossible to travel anywhere with a woman and baggage at any speed. Moreover Madrid was in the very centre of the country, four hundred miles from the nearest port. So if they went by coach and Don Diego decided to pursue them they would have little hope of reaching the coast without being overtaken. On his journey to Madrid Roger had had ample opportunity to revise his ideas, and decided that he must persuade Isabella to come with him on horseback; but he had overlooked the fact that a boy of Quetzal's age would never be able to stay the pace required to keep a lead on such a long journey.