The Danbury Scandals

by Mary Nichols

  He looked up at her in a daze, still bemused by her sudden appearance, unable to believe she was real. He climbed up beside her and took the reins from her. ‘How did you come to be here?’ he asked. ‘And where is Maman? You look as though you had been in a battle yourself.’

  ‘I very nearly was.’ She laughed. ‘But I’ll tell you about that later. We left Maman fast asleep in Brussels; she is perfectly safe and well. Now we must get Lord Brandon back there where he will be looked after. He and Caroline are married; did you know? No, of course, you didn’t...’

  He let her prattle on. Time enough later to tell her the wedding had been the talk of Vienna when he had been there in February; time enough to talk and make plans for the future. He guided the cart into the courtyard and towards the spot where Caroline sat with her husband’s head in her lap, waiting for them.

  The rest of the day was a blur of activity. Maryanne’s senses were heightened by the fact that Adam was at her side, but there was no chance to speak of personal matters. They took Lord Brandon to the hospital on the cart and comforted Caroline who, understandably, burst into tears as soon as her husband had been delivered to the surgeon. She insisted on staying with him, but begged Adam and Maryanne to make themselves at home in her apartment.

  Madame Saint-Pierre’s joy at seeing Adam soon dispelled her annoyance at being left behind and she gave orders for an early supper to be served and a bed to be made up.

  By the time Maryanne had bathed and changed her filthy clothes, and sat down to their meal, she was too tired to eat. She wanted to be alone with her husband, wanted to be held in his arms, to know their quarrel was forgotten. She begged to be excused and went up to their bedroom. Adam followed her, shutting the door behind him.

  She turned towards him with a smile, but it faded when he kissed her and then held her out at arm’s length to look into her face. ‘Now, madam,’ he said severely. ‘An explanation, if you please.’

  Chapter Twelve

  All day Maryanne had been looking forward to being alone with her husband, to feel his kisses on her lips and know that the rift between them had been healed. And all he could do was continue their quarrel as if there had been no interruption!

  ‘Explanation?’ she retorted. ‘You are asking me for an explanation?’

  ‘Yes. I expect my wife to obey me. I sent you to Paris with instructions to go back to London. Robert and Jeannie were expecting you. How do you think I felt when Robert wrote to say you had not arrived and when I went to Paris you were not there either?’

  ‘No worse than I felt when you disappeared.’ She failed to see the twinkle of amusement in his eye. ‘And how could Robert write to you, when no one knew where you were?’

  ‘He knew I could be reached through the Duke.’

  ‘Which Duke?’

  ‘Wellington, of course.’

  ‘It seems to me,’ she said tartly, ‘I am the one requiring an explanation.’

  He burst out laughing. ‘I knew we should fight but I did not imagine it would be so soon.’

  ‘I believe you enjoy it.’ She was bewildered and angry at his behaviour. ‘You deliberately provoke me.’

  ‘And you rise to the bait every time, my darling.’ He pulled her towards him to kiss her. ‘There will be time for explanations later. Now I want to make love to my wife.’

  He drew her down on to the bed beside him and she melted under his caresses, forgetting the past, the unbelievably long day, all the things which divided them, giving herself up to her undenied and undeniable love. He took his time undressing her, kissing her lips, her neck, her shoulders and arms, letting his mouth roam down her body to her stomach with its tiny bulge. ‘Maryanne,’ he said suddenly, sitting up to look down at her, naked and glowing with a kind of iridescent beauty which made him ache with love. ‘Are you...?’

  She laughed at the expression on his face: delight, concern, wonder. ‘Yes, I am increasing,’ she said.

  ‘Then should we...?’

  Her answer was to wind her hands round his neck and pull him down on to her. ‘He is only very tiny,’ she whispered. ‘You will not hurt him.’

  He smothered her with kisses, forgetting his intention to savour their lovemaking slowly. She would not have let him do that in any case; her passion was as great as his and they were carried away on a cloud of rapture which took them to paradise.

  It was some time later when he murmured dreamily, ‘You said "he".’

  ‘Isn’t that what you want, a son and heir?’ she asked.

  ‘An heir,’ he repeated. ‘Heir to what? I cannot go back to France, and returning to England means...’

  ‘I know what it means,’ she said. ‘It is why I delayed so long, I was too cowardly to face it alone.’

  ‘You are not alone now.’

  ‘No, but how long before you disappear again? How can I ever be sure of you? You have so many secrets. Why didn’t you tell me you were James’s heir? I had to learn it from Maman,

  ‘When could I have told you? When we first met? Should I have said, when you fled from Castle Cedars and threw yourself into my arms, "By the way, I am the Viscount’s son"? Should I have told you at the ball? Do you know, I very nearly did? That was why I asked you to meet me in the conservatory but, as always, we misunderstood each other and I let it pass. And later, when you announced your engagement to Mark, was I supposed to step in and spoil your happiness by throwing a cat among the pigeons? I fully intended to return to France without speaking to my father, but I could not leave before the curricle race because that would have been construed as cowardice. After that everything was taken out of my hands by events I could not control. And the longer we have been together since, the more difficult it has become.’

  ‘Try now. From the beginning.’

  He put his arm around her and drew her head on to his shoulder. ‘The beginning. I suppose it began with the Revolution, the Terror and the execution of the man I had always known as my father. Before he went to the guillotine, he told me to go to England and find Mr Rudge - Robert’s father - who would look after me. I set out and reached Paris, but there I stayed. I had neither the means nor the inclination to go further. As far as I was concerned, Maman and Papa had been my parents, and if I felt anything at all it was anger at the callous behaviour of a father who did not care about the child he had brought into the world.’

  His grip tightened as he remembered. ‘I became Le Choucas, the Jackdaw, the thief. I would have slit your throat for a few sous. I forgot my loving home, I forgot my birthright; my only thought was to stay alive and out of the dungeons of Paris. At sixteen I was a man you would not have liked.’

  ‘But how could you forget all your adopted mother had taught you, to live like that?’

  He laughed. ‘You still do not understand, do you? That was the way I wanted to be. I wanted to deny my background because then it did not hurt so much, and if I could damage someone in authority, if only in a small way, then I was avenging Papa. And later, when I enlisted in the army, it was not to fight for my country, not from any sense of patriotism, but simply to stay alive. I had no axe to grind for Bonaparte; in fact as the years went by I became more and more disillusioned.’

  He paused to kiss the top of her head. ‘One day, in Portugal, I was out with a patrol when we missed our way in the fog and were captured. The others, including the Comte de Challac, who was a captain at the time, were marched off to spend the remainder of the war on the hulks in Portsmouth Sound, but because I spoke English I was taken to see Viscount Wellington. We had a long talk and at the end he said, "An Englishman in a French uniform is just the article I need. Will you go back for me?".’

  She lifted her head to look into his face. ‘And you agreed?’

  ‘Yes. He convinced me I could do most good by returning to the French lines.’

  ‘What happened when you went back?’ she asked.

  ‘I pretended I had escaped. The false information I had been provided with ensured my welcome.�
� He paused, smiling. ‘And, in the absence of the Count, my promotion.’

  ‘Didn’t you feel like a traitor?’

  ‘Any qualms of conscience were soon stilled when I thought about what Bonaparte was doing to Europe, the devastation, the looting. He had no care for the casualties he inflicted, not only on those who resisted him, but on his own troops. He once admitted a million lives meant nothing to him. I lost many a friend to his fanaticism, Jeannie’s husband among them. And, even though I had grown up in France, I knew myself to be English, and it was the French who had executed my adoptive parents.’ He paused. ‘If I had known Maman was still alive, I might have behaved differently, but I don’t think so.’

  ‘So you became a spy?’ Maryanne demanded.

  He grinned. ‘I prefer to say intelligence officer. I was Captain Choucas to the French and Sir Peter Adams to the English. When the British army entered France, I could neither stay with the French nor march with Wellington, so I decided, duty done, to go to England as Adam Saint-Pierre. I had been forced to take Michel into my confidence early on and he had risked his life on more than one occasion to help me. I had promised him I would look after Jeannie, and she wanted to return to London. It was from Robert I learned who my real father was.’

  ‘Were you shocked?’ Maryanne asked.

  He smiled. ‘Maman had hinted that he was well born, but I had no idea who he was. I had already planned to go to Portsmouth to expedite the release of the Count, and curiosity took me to Beckford and Castle Cedars. I found myself wanting to meet my father, but as he had acquired a second family, who obviously did not know of my existence, I was hesitant, especially as I had no proof of my identity.’

  ‘How did Mark find out?’

  ‘My father spotted me at the Duke’s funeral and asked me to call on him.’

  ‘He knew who you were?’

  ‘Yes, he had made his own enquiries after you told him my name. He thought we had all died in the Terror, and said if he had known I had survived he would have done his best to trace me. Far from forgetting me, he said I was often in his thoughts. I don’t know why I went, perhaps because I was beginning to revise my ill opinion of him, perhaps because I hoped I would see you again. I wanted to tell you everything then, but you had gone to Beckford with Mark.’

  ‘That was when I decided I could not marry him,’ Maryanne said.

  ‘My father talked to me about the family and the estate and how he had not wanted to inherit the dukedom. He said he would have preferred to remain Viscount Danbury and Squire of Beckford. He spoke about the villagers and their grievances, and told me he was afraid Mark would ruin the estate and hurt the people. He also mentioned his suspicion that Mark had engineered the curricle accident. Those men had been paid to upset the logs.’

  ‘Not by you?’ she exclaimed.

  ‘Mon Dieu! Did you think that?’ He was almost angry again.

  ‘I heard Lady Markham say you needed more than luck.’

  ‘She meant I needed advice on a good rig and plenty of practice.’

  ‘Oh, I’ve been such a fool. Can you ever forgive me?’ she cried.

  He kissed her. ‘Does that answer your question?’

  She wriggled comfortably in his arms and he went on, ‘Mark came in while we were talking and, before I could stop him, my father told him who I was. You can imagine his reaction. He raved and threatened, and because I had no intention of coming between them I left. And then, foolish, foolish girl, you decided to take matters into your own hands...’

  ‘And my timing, as always, was terrible.’

  ‘It was catastrophic.’

  ‘You did not want me with you?’

  ‘I wanted it more than anything in the world, my love, but not that way, not fleeing the country followed by accusation and scandal. Mark believes you know the truth, that you saw what happened, which is why, when Robert told me of the murder, I had to take you with me.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  He smiled ruefully. ‘I learned in a very hard school not to confide in anyone, however close they seem. Ever since I was twelve, I have had to solve my own problems, and it did not come easy after all that time to find I had an accomplice, willing or unwilling.’

  ‘I was... am your willing hostage,’ she said softly.

  ‘I was never sure if you came as friend or foe. One day I thought one thing and the next I was convinced of the opposite.’

  ‘You are a fine one,’ she said, scrambling to a sitting position so that she could look down on him. ‘You expected me to know you were innocent without being told, but you could not dispel your own doubts about me. Why, in heaven’s name, did you think I came with you? For a jaunt? I can tell you it has been no jaunt. Curiosity? Not even I am as curious as that. And why have I stayed? I could have left you at the inn by the river and gone back with the fishermen. When we were in Montmartre, I could have gone to the British Embassy for help, and when I saw Mark in Paris I could have thrown myself on his mercy and told him I had been held against my will. Even when you sent me home, I stayed. I did it because I love you. Oh, Adam, can you not see what is under your nose?’

  ‘A very pretty little mouth,’ he said, pulling her down and rolling over so that he was above her. ‘Don’t you know I love you more than life?’

  ‘You only ever said it once and it did not stop you from going to war again, did it?’ She ran her hands over his muscular torso, making desire well up again. ‘I was furious with you.’

  ‘I did not want to go, believe me, but when the Duke heard I was going to Challac he asked me to send him reports of Napoleon’s movements and I could not refuse him. It was why I was away from home so much. That last time, when I was gone so long, I went to Vienna to report in person. His Grace convinced me it was my duty to re-enlist. He said he still needed an Englishman in a French uniform. Before I could return and tell you about it, we were ordered to Challac. You can have no idea of what went through my mind.’

  ‘I was angry,’ Maryanne said.

  ‘So was I, but with myself, not you.’

  She lifted her head to kiss his cheek. ‘What happened after I left?’

  ‘Nothing, that is the irony of it. The regiment went over to the Emperor without firing a shot.’ He smiled wryly. ‘When Napoleon marched on Belgium, my usefulness seemed over and I deserted, went back to Paris...’

  ‘And I had left.’

  ‘Yes. Now, if you please, I will have that explanation. Why did you decide to ignore my instructions?’

  ‘I didn’t ignore them, I simply delayed obeying them. We kept hoping, Maman and I, that you would come back. When we finally decided to leave, there was only one way we could go.’

  ‘Oh, my impetuous duchess, when I think of what could have happened...’

  She was thoughtful. ‘Adam, don’t you think we should put that behind us? The inheritance, I mean.’

  ‘Is that what you want?’

  ‘I... I don’t know. I simply want to be at peace with everyone. I don’t want to stir up old enmity, especially as Caroline seems to have changed so much. We could be friends.’

  ‘Our quarrel is not with Caroline, Maryanne.’

  ‘No, but she will always be loyal to her brother.’

  ‘I am also her brother, my darling.’

  ‘Half-brother.’

  ‘So? What would you have me do? Hide away for the rest of my life? If I do, you will soon tire of it, I can tell you. We should fight, until one or other of us was completely subdued and, because I am a strong-willed man, it would be you. I would make you miserable. Is that the home life you want for our child?’

  ‘Oh, Adam, I am so confused.’

  ‘Then let me decide what is to be done. I have to go to London.’ He smiled. ‘Robert and Jeannie are to be married. I have been asked to give the bride away. While I am there, I will ask his advice.’ He stroked her face gently, kissing her forehead, murmuring endearments, soothing her. ‘You may go back to Challac and wait for me
there, if you wish.’

  ‘Oh, no! I will not be left behind. We go together or not at all.’

  ‘Very well,’ he said, cradling her head back into his shoulder and smiling to himself; the last thing he wanted was to be parted from her again. ‘Go to sleep now,’ he said softly. ‘All will be well.’

  It had been a long, long day, full of horror and despair, but out of it had come reunion with Adam and a new understanding. There was no longer any need for her to be mindful of her responsibility towards Madame Saint-Pierre, to be strong and forceful, to decide which road to take, when to eat, when to take shelter, to be cheerful when she felt like crying, to pretend she was well when she felt sick. She could relax. She slept, leaving him to stare up into the darkness, wide-eyed and awake.

  It was ten days before they were given permission to leave and by that time Richard was judged well enough to travel. He had to use crutches but was amazingly cheerful and full of plans for the future. The two couples went together.

  England, when they reached it, was jubilantly celebrating all over again, with bells ringing, flags and banners flying, music and fairs, but Maryanne was more concerned with wondering what she would do if they were arrested than with the festivities. She saw constables round every corner and imagined they were being followed by the two henchmen Mark had sent after them before.

  Once in London, Richard and Caroline left for their estate in Hampshire, not far from Castle Cedars, while Adam, Maryanne and Madame Saint-Pierre went to Adelphi Terrace. Robert and Jeannie, who cared not a pin about scandal, made them welcome, insisting they stay with them.

  ‘Unless you plan to take over Wiltshire House,’ Robert laughed as he led them into the drawing-room they had left so suddenly the year before. ‘Danbury has put it up for sale.’

  ‘Oh?’ Adam raised an eyebrow. ‘Why is he selling?’

  Robert gave orders for a meal to be prepared and beds to be made up, before replying. ‘Gambling debts. He is on his uppers. He has already sold almost everything of value at Beckford Hall. The Dowager died last month, so it will not be long before he begins emptying Castle Cedars of its treasures too.’