by May Burnett
“You are really here! I am so relieved!”
At seventeen, Amy was not yet out, and her demeanour was still that of an enthusiastic schoolgirl, though she was now a full head taller than Monique. The girls embraced, and kissed cheeks. “Thank you, Amy. I am glad to see another friendly face.”
“You will soon see more of them. Everyone is agog to hear what befell you after that violent attack. Mother will come to you as soon as she can leave her guests without raising suspicion. How exciting, to have a secret guest!”
“Not for long, I hope,” Monique said. “I did not come here to hide in my rooms. I must thank you for the dress I am wearing, by the way.”
“I wonder you should say so, for it is not remotely up to your standards. Besides, I had already outgrown it.”
“Do you have a good local seamstress who could prepare something more like my usual wardrobe, in a hurry?”
“Not like your Parisian fashions,” Amy said frankly. “However, I hear your own maid and Miss Maynard are already on their way, and will bring the luggage you had to leave behind.”
“Merveilleux. I miss them.”
“I don’t think I could survive without my maid for over a week,” Amy confided, pouring tea into a delicate, almost transparent china cup. “How did you stand it? Is it true you were disguised as a boy when Verena and Violet found you?”
“Yes, but please don’t ever mention it where anyone outside the family could overhear.”
“My lips are sealed. Though I wish I had seen it. What was it like?”
“Nerve-wracking, since I did not do it for fun, but to escape pursuit. It is a most unpleasant feeling that somebody is trying to kill you. Somebody well known to me, in all likelihood.”
“That reminds me, I hear that Frenchman among our guests said he was related to you. His name is Bertrand de Montalban.”
“He is my second cousin on my late mother’s side,” Monique said, “though I have never met him.”
“Do you suppose he could be your mysterious enemy? Verena considers him a useless dandy, only interested in the cut of his clothes and the tie of his cravat. But that could be a ruse, to lull us into thinking him harmless while he was plotting murder all the time.”
“I have not met Bertrand, but his eldest brother Matthieu attended Court at the same time I was there,” Monique said. “A personable and polite young man. How did Bertrand come to be here?”
“He had a letter of recommendation from one of Mother’s French friends, and she invited him to make up our numbers, I imagine.” Amy demolished a delicate cucumber sandwich with youthful appetite.
“I look forward to meeting him.” Could Bertrand be the person who had tried to have her killed, as Amy suggested? Not unless he was unaware that her inheritance was irrevocably hers since last March. No, impossible.
All that talk of relatives could wait. Monique had to think of Captain Kinninmont’s plight. How could she best assist him?
Minutes after Amy had left her sitting room, Aunt Charlotte came rushing in. “There you are at last!” Enveloped in a motherly hug and pressed against that ample bosom, Monique felt insensibly comforted. “We have been terribly worried about you. I would have come to Kendal myself, but I was stupidly engaged to play whist with some ladies, and did not want to arouse their curiosity by crying off at such short notice.”
“Sorry to be such a bother,” Monique said, only to have Mrs. Ellsworthy shake her head at her. “You know you could never be that! I only have a few minutes now, but we’ll talk later, when the others have gone to bed. In the meantime, is there anything you need?”
“Yes,” Monique said, handing her aunt a slip of paper. “There is a horse at the address I have written down, a livery stable about two days away. A magnificent, valuable roan gelding by name of Emperor. I need a groom sent to bring the horse here to the Amberley stables, as soon as possible. He is not to overtire Emperor, and treat him with the best possible care.”
“That should not be a problem.” Aunt Charlotte slipped the paper into her sleeve. “It this horse yours?”
“No, it’s a long story. I just need him brought to Amberley, until I can restore him to his owner.”
“Very well.” Aunt Charlotte kissed her cheek and rushed off, leaving Monique cheered to some extent. If she could not immediately liberate the Captain, at least she could rescue his horse, which had carried her so faithfully during her flight.
Shortly before dinnertime, Lady Amberley herself came to welcome Monique. “You poor girl! If Alphonse and Celia knew what has happened to you! I am so very sorry. But you are safe now, and can finally relax.”
Monique nodded. “Thank you, Aunt Marianne. I knew if only I could reach Amberley, the worst would be over. But I still urgently require help, and cannot stay hiding in here.”
“It’s just this one night. By hook or by crook, tomorrow night we’ll have a dinner gown for you to wear, that your mother would not be ashamed of,” her hostess assured her. “In the meantime, when our guests are safely abed I’ll send Verena to fetch you to my private sitting-room. We are all anxious to know everything, and allay your fears. Better rest a few hours now, I fear it will be very late.”
Monique decided to follow this sensible advice, but try as she might, she could not sleep a wink. How were his jailors treating the Captain? Had Verena remembered to send a servant to make enquiries about his situation? Would Uncle James be able to secure his release? How could she explain to people who had never met Captain Kinninmont that he was innocent and deserved their help? Verena and Violet had only been humouring her, she sensed, and harboured doubts about the young man’s worth. Only her word stood between him and all kinds of accusations and charges, if someone wanted to paint these last few days in scandalous colours.
They would all tell her to forget him, with the very best of intentions, of course. But it was not a question of misplaced passion – however admirable she thought the young man, nothing could come of such an unequal friendship. No, she owed him her help, to be as loyal a friend as he had proved in her own emergency. If she defined her need as a question of honour, her friends might be more easily persuaded to assist her.
Would he be able to sleep any better in his prison, than she in this comfortable bed? Perhaps so; he was so proud of his military toughness. More likely fear over the uncertain future, and puzzlement over the source of the malicious charge, would keep him awake.
Captain Kinninmont possessed only modest means, and had already given up the commission that meant so much to him. He was on his way home to Scotland, no danger to anyone. What conceivable motive could there be for destroying an honourable man? For she would stake her life on it, that Duncan Kinninmont was as honourable and honest as he was brave and conscientious. By contrast, anyone who set himself against him would likely be a heartless, conscienceless villain.
“I’ll get you out of there,” she vowed silently. He had protected her; she would do no less. No more hiding away, even if her makeshift clothes excited remark. That could be explained with luggage having gone astray, a travel mishap. She would hold her head high and face down any criticism and doubt. She should have joined the house party at dinner, rather than cower in here, trying to rest when she could not.
She must act, and not simply react. Charge ahead, instead of hiding. Plan to entrap, rather than try to second-guess her enemies.
She jumped up from the bed with renewed energy, and washed with cold water rather than ringing for warm one, to ensure that she was sufficiently fresh for what would likely prove a long and complicated conference. She dressed once again in Amy’s castoff dress, even more unsuitable as evening wear, and covered it with a velvet dressing gown that someone had thoughtfully put into the wardrobe. It was a little too long, but she was used to trains, and would just have to be careful not to stumble.
She had only picked at the dinner tray delivered earlier, and now ate a little more from those dishes which remained palatable, like the paté de f
oie gras and the confit of artichokes. She had never been a greedy eater, but as she nibbled at a date she heard the Captain’s voice in her head, advising her to keep up her strength, as though he were right next to her. What a scandal that would be! But still better than knowing he was languishing in jail.
It was imperative to free him before he was moved southwards, where his accusers had greater influence, or might even contrive to murder him in jail before any trial took place. If professional criminals were involved, such things were by no means unheard-of.
Whoever was planning to harm her Captain was reckoning without Monique de Ville-Deuxtours.
Chapter 16
At half-past one, a discreet knock at her door alerted Monique that the family conference would soon begin. Verena, in a lilac silk evening gown trimmed with seed pearls, had come to escort her to Lady Amberley’s sitting room. In view of her friend’s elegance Monique chose to leave the warm dressing-gown behind, not without a pang of regret. Goose bumps formed on her bare arms and she glanced ruefully down at the simple skirt of her gown. She could not remember being so underdressed in her life.
“It is only the family, but this will not do,” Verena said sympathetically. They made a quick detour to her rooms, where Verena handed Monique an elegant Paisley shawl, large enough to cover most of her slight form.
As she arranged the folds into a becoming shape, Monique asked, “Did you send a servant to enquire after the Captain, Verena?”
Her friend bit her lips and shook her head regretfully. “I am sorry, I did not remember until dinner, when I could not get up. By then it was dark and it is doubtful that any news could be had so late in the evening. It shall be done first thing in the morning.”
Monique pressed her lips together, refraining with effort from expressing her disappointment. Clearly she had not been sufficiently convincing, and the sense of alarm and urgency she felt on the Captain’s behalf was not shared even by her closest friend.
Arriving at the Countess’s private sitting room on the second floor, Monique stopped on the doorstep for a moment. The elegant apartment, decorated in patterned green silk, was already crowded. A number of chairs and two settees had been arranged in a rough circle, and there were bottles and tea available, but no servants anywhere in sight. A fire was crackling in the chimney.
What was that strong, pleasant aroma? Monique’s eyes were drawn to a bowl of punch redolent of cinnamon, cloves and lemons. She rarely touched strong spirits, but a cup of the warm beverage would be welcome tonight. Not more than one, however, for she needed her wits about her: she must remain alert for the Captain’s sake as much as her own.
“There she is, the heroine of this drama,” Verena announced. All the gentlemen and several of the ladies jumped up at seeing her, and came to embrace her.
With a sense of relief, but also a little apprehension, Monique submitted to the welcome of her friends.
“I’m glad to see you looking well,” Uncle James, Charlotte’s husband, said. “Alphonse would never let me hear the end of it, if we had permanently mislaid you.”
The others added their greetings and welcome. Uncle George – Lord Amberley – Uncle Anthony, Lady Amberley’s brother and his Marchioness, Emily; Violet’s twin Roger and Verena formed part of the circle. Only Amy was missing.
Roger Ellsworthy grinned at her. “I knew you would not come to harm. But I want to know all about your adventure, shrimp.”
Monique frowned at him. She had hoped never to hear that nursery taunt again. People who had known you since infancy could be irritating.
“Come, dear, sit here,” Lady Amberley directed her to an upholstered armchair that completely dwarfed her. “Tell us all, and how we can help you, apart from obtaining proper clothes for you, and denying all knowledge of your unorthodox journey. Once you are reunited with Miss Maynard, your companion, it will be as though this was just a nightmare, something that never happened.”
“I wish I could agree,” Monique said. “Let me describe what I experienced. You will see that the matter is more complicated than that.”
“We already know the first part,” Violet interjected. “Our housekeeper wrote a long letter, when poor Bessemer and the coachman returned so quickly, after that shocking ambush.”
“We should still hear the whole from Monique herself, from the beginning,” Lord Pell suggested. “Your housekeeper may be a good correspondent, Violet, but first-hand information is always best.”
Monique could only agree, wondering what the servant had made of her peculiar circumstances. She began her account from the morning when her parents, distracted by their own imminent departure and worry for young Etienne, had packed her off to England. As she should have expected, there were constant interruptions and questions, to the point where Uncle James had to tell the younger listeners to let her speak on. They grimaced at her description of the nauseating fish stew, and exclaimed in horror when she described the shot that had wounded her maid.
The arrival and subsequent behaviour of Captain Kinninmont roused almost as much comment and conjecture as her danger, and its possible source.
“Everything before could have been accident,” Lord Amberley said, “the fish stew was likely just badly prepared, and the single shot could have come from some poacher. But what happened to that berline was undoubtedly a premeditated crime with intent to harm. It is admirable that you kept your head, Monique. Your parents would be proud of the sang-froid you displayed.”
“They might disapprove of my leaving the scene of the crime with Captain Kinninmont,” Monique said. “I have been worrying and wondering if I should not have stood my ground, and laid a charge against that other unknown assailant with the closest magistrate. I fled as though I had something to be ashamed of, yet that was absolutely not the case. All the servants urged me to do it, but I should not have listened to their counsel.”
“Yes, you should,” Verena contradicted her. “It will not benefit your reputation to be mixed up in such an affair.”
“But is my reputation so very fragile, that it could not have withstood one such incident?”
“Not with this Captain Kinninmont in your party,” Lady Amberley pronounced. “I understand why you accepted a soldier’s protection, and I’m not blaming you at all, but in a closed carriage, really! That was asking for trouble.”
“Only while it was raining hard. Besides, the maid was there too,” Monique contended.
“Under the circumstances, I would have done the same.” Lady Pell smiled at Monique. “Your safety is more important than the risk of adverse gossip. And if the Captain had not killed that attacker, who knows what would have become of you?”
“You could not leave the scene of the crime by yourself, so much is clear,” Violet said. “With the maid hurt and unable to go with you, I don’t see that you had any other choice. But to set out from our house under the escort of a man you had not met in the regular way, of whom we know nothing, does seem somewhat reckless.”
Monique frowned. Did they doubt her ability to judge people? “My impression that he was trustworthy was borne out by events. Even later, when I was unchaperoned, the Captain behaved with utmost tact and decorum.”
“And you never told him your real name?” Verena asked.
“At first, I was worried he might try to take advantage of my vulnerable position, force me into marriage, or sell his silence for money,” Monique explained. “By the time I saw his face, and had a better idea of his character, it would have been embarrassing to confess that I had deceived him. Though it was only a little liberty with the truth, since Towers is part of my name, if it were translated into English. I did let him think that I was of English extraction,” she added a little guiltily. “Since he knows I was coming here, he could find out the truth with very little effort.”
“Locked up in a cell, he won’t be in any position to snoop,” Lord Amberley said. “Your description of a gallant and reliable young officer is at odds with the fact that he ha
s been accused of a felony, and imprisoned. Could it be that he committed that crime before he met you, and is guilty after all?”
“Impossible,” Monique asserted. “I would put my hand in the fire for his integrity. Besides, we don’t know when this crime is supposed to have taken place. Very likely it was during those days when he escorted me, and I could vouch for his whereabouts and innocence.”
“Only in theory,” Lady Pell objected. “In practice it would mean instant ruin, Monique. You’d have to marry the young man.”
“That would never do,” Lady Amberley said.
“In any case, we should find some means to free the young man,” Uncle James said, earning Monique’s gratitude. He at least came straight to the heart of the matter, instead of harping on her recklessness. “If this Captain is innocent, he must have devious and ruthless enemies. Do you know anything about that, Monique?”
Monique swallowed a small sip of punch, clasping the warm glass between her hands. “We met two officers from his regiment in an inn, I forget the name of the place. Their behaviour towards the Captain was not at all comme il faut. They disliked, even despised him, and I surmise it has something to do with the reasons he resigned his commission.” She would not divulge the exact problems he had told her in confidence, but she could at least hint at them. “Apparently somebody had subjected the Captain to a vicious rumour campaign, blackened his name to such extent that he saw no other choice but to resign his commission. And since he is definitely no coward, and stubborn, it must have been very bad indeed.”
“You think well of him, Monique, because he behaved well to you,” Lord Amberley said. “That does not mean that the poor opinion of his fellow officers was unjustified. It is very rare to find smoke without any fire.”
Before Monique could retort, Aunt Charlotte said, “If Monique is correct, these rumours show the same kind of underhanded, sneaky approach as laying false charges against a man. It seems very likely to me that the same mind was behind both actions.”