Leading Lady

by Jane Aiken Hodge

  ‘Oh, well, she’s safe at least. That’s something.’ Joseph had returned late in the afternoon. ‘I must say I rather hoped she would decide to leave before the winter, but one must regret the scrambling way she has done it. What, precisely, did she say to you, Martha?’

  ‘She said she could take a hint when it was thrown in her face. But there was something else. Just as she was going. I asked if Napoleon might not be angry, and she said on the contrary he would be delighted to see her. And hear her news. As if –’ she hesitated.

  ‘She had something useful to tell him,’ Joseph finished the sentence for her. ‘I do wonder what.’

  ‘I doubt we’ll know till spring,’ said Franz cheerfully. ‘The searchers said the pass was desperately difficult, coming back.’

  ‘And it’s snowing again,’ said Max. ‘Do I take it you gave Minette the hint to leave?’ he asked Joseph. ‘Because if so we all owe you our thanks.’

  ‘Do you know,’ said Martha, surprising herself as much as the rest of them. ‘I believe I shall miss her?’ And then wished she had not called attention to herself. Franz’s report of the faint that had fatally delayed her intervening to stop Minette had got her a very close look from Joseph, but, to her relief, no comment.

  ‘Then I am sorry I hunted her away,’ said Joseph now. ‘But, Martha, as your resident doctor, may I suggest that someone who fainted this morning should perhaps go early to bed tonight? Franz, take her away and see to it. And, Martha –’ With a very friendly look. ‘I should have thought of this sooner; I’m ashamed. I’ll come to you, in the morning, for the day’s plans, not you to me. At ten, perhaps?’

  ‘Thank you.’ How long had he known? It was certainly more than time she told Franz.

  Anna was waiting in their apartment, a loving scold at the ready, but Franz sent her away before she could get started. ‘Now,’ he had seated Martha in a chair, his arm around her shoulders. ‘This faint of yours. Not just your line, surely.’ He paused, looking down at her. ‘Martha?’

  ‘Yes?’ She settled more comfortably against his arm.

  ‘Am I being a hopeful fool?’

  She turned to smile up at him, ‘Well, if you are, Anna and I are too.’

  ‘And Joseph? One tends to forget he’s a doctor, now he’s a prince. Well, we have our orders. I am to look after you and you are to take care of yourself.’

  ‘An heir for Lissenberg?’

  ‘No, my darling, our son.’

  ‘Or – I hesitate to suggest it – our daughter?’

  ‘Dearly welcome either way.’ He pulled her close for a long, gentle kiss.

  It snowed again next day and Prince Joseph dismissed his men early from the road works. Returning to the palace, he found Baron Hals watching for him. ‘Lady Cristabel is here, highness. Asking to see you. Says it’s urgent.’

  ‘Lady Cristabel?’ He looked down at himself. ‘Urgent? She won’t mind my wet clothes. I’ll see her in the study. At once.’ And when she appeared: ‘What is it? What can I do for you?’

  ‘It’s Desmond.’ She blushed crimson, then, as it faded, he saw how pale she was. ‘He’s vanished.’

  ‘Vanished?’

  ‘Nobody has seen him for two days. Since yesterday morning. I’d not have troubled you, highness, if I had not learned that Minette de Beauharnais left unexpectedly yesterday.’

  ‘Don’t call me highness!’

  ‘It’s your title. Don’t make it harder for me. I saw him dancing with Minette the night before last.’ She flashed him a straight, furious glance. ‘Wooing her, the way I’ve seen him woo so many fools. Like myself.’

  ‘Don’t.’ What could he say? ‘But – you think he has gone with her? Why would she have taken him? Not, surely, on one night’s wooing. Though it’s true.’ He was talking as much to himself as to her. ‘I had made her very angry. I suggested she go,’ he explained.

  ‘Did you? Yes, that would have made her furious, poor Minette. And she danced the next dance with him.’ Again the fiery blush as she realised she had revealed that she had been watching him and Minette.

  ‘She said something to Martha.’ His colour was high too. ‘Something that sounded like a threat. Napoleon would welcome her, she said, and the news she brought. I’ve been worrying about that. But how could Fylde have known –’ He stopped short.

  ‘About the road?’ She took the wind quite out of his sails. ‘That it goes in the wrong direction? You really did not know that secret was out? Has been for two days, since you started blasting? One of those Lissenberg secrets everyone knows and nobody mentions. I would have thought Desmond – and the French officers of course – was probably the only person who was unaware of what you were doing. But, if he found out somehow … He might well have thought it a valuable enough bit of information to pave his way with Napoleon. We had had an offer from Vienna,’ she explained. ‘His doing. I refused to go. He longed to. He was afraid of the winter here … He likes his comforts, Desmond. And, if Minette smiled at him … He thought himself irresistible to women … Why am I talking like this? As if he was gone? He might just have gone to Brundt, on one of his impulses. But we had an important rehearsal today. Franz was furious.’

  ‘Franz should have told me.’

  ‘Why? We thought it was just Desmond being Desmond. We didn’t know then that no one had seen him. Don’t you see? Maria thought he was with me. I was sure he was with Maria. He would not have spent the night in Brundt. So, where did he spend it?’

  ‘Not with Minette. I sent after her to make sure she was safe. She crossed the border and went on board the ferry with only her men and her maid. She’s gone, that’s one thing certain, no stopping her now. And the very fact that she went so suddenly does make one think –’

  ‘That she had learned something. To make up to Napoleon for her failure to marry you. I take it that is how you made her so angry? I’m only surprised she didn’t decide to stay and have another try for poor Max. You’re laughing?’

  ‘I’m afraid I told her that was no use either.’

  ‘Now I do wonder if you were right about that. You told her he was still wearing the willow for me? He’s not, you know. He got over me a long time ago, just hasn’t noticed it yet A pity she’s gone, really; I’d been beginning to wonder … But I’ll tell you one thing, if she has taken Desmond with her –’ she ignored his protest, ‘disguised as one of her men, maybe? He’s an actor, remember; he could do it. But – if she has, she’ll keep him in line. She’s got a great deal of sense, Minette. If he has been indulging himself in the idea of becoming Napoleon’s nephew-in-law he’s in a fool’s paradise. Minette is no green girl; she values herself highly, and why should she not?’

  ‘She’s younger than you, surely?’

  ‘In years. But what I am trying to say is that I think your secret is probably safe with Desmond for the time being. He’ll keep it to himself, as a bargaining point, until they catch up with Napoleon.’

  ‘By which time the pass will be well and truly closed.’ He looked out at steadily falling snow. ‘I’d better question my men again. Would you mind staying? Something they said might identify Fylde to you.’

  ‘Yes.’ It was odd, she thought, how neither of them referred to Desmond as her husband. But then this entire conversation was strange beyond belief.

  The two messengers were sure that Fylde had not been in Minette’s little party. ‘She came with a coachman, two men and a maid; she left with them; the papers were all in order. There was just one odd thing, it didn’t seem worth mentioning before.’ The two men had obviously been talking between themselves. ‘The official who passed them through said something about a boy who should have been with her, and wasn’t. And Mademoiselle de Beauharnais laughed about it and said the poor boy had got left behind. The party seemed to think this very funny, the man said.’

  ‘A boy?’ Joseph looked at Cristabel; they both thought about the stalwart tenor who would soon be portly, and Cristabel blushed furiously, then spoke. ‘Not D
esmond, that’s for sure. But do you remember Minette’s maid? Why should you? You probably never noticed her. A tiny little shrew of a French girl. She could pass as a boy easily enough, and have you ever heard Desmond sing falsetto?’

  ‘He’d have been the maid?’

  ‘I think so. I wonder … Poor Desmond. He’s such a fool! Do you think – would you mind? Could you send out a search-party?’

  ‘You think Minette took drastic steps to keep him in line?’

  ‘It could have happened.’ she said soberly. ‘And if so he has been out there in the snow for a day and a night.’

  ‘And it’s almost dark now. I’m afraid no search-party will be possible until the morning. I’m sorry! But they shall go out at first light, I promise.’

  ‘Thank you. Poor Desmond,’ she said again, and rose. ‘I must go back to the hostel; maybe I’ll find him there fresh from a long night at the gaming tables.’

  ‘If you do, send at once.’

  ‘Of course. I do thank you, prince.’

  ‘You haven’t asked me why I decided to change the route of the road,’ Joseph said.

  ‘No. I thought it none of my business.’ And then, smiling for the first time. ‘But I confess I long to know.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He was aware that they were talking in much more than words. ‘It’s the Lissenbergers,’ he said now. ‘This extraordinary cohesion among them. Well – imagine anywhere else, a secret known to everyone and mentioned by none. It makes sense about the Lissenbergers. I knew that the minute you told me. I’ve been learning it all summer, as I learned my way round the country. You called me spy and traitor once. Well, you were half right. I was a spy, but you can’t be a traitor to a cause you don’t know.’

  ‘And now you do?’

  ‘Well, I know Lissenberg a little now. And, if I can help it, I’m not going to let it be lost in Napoleon’s military empire. That’s what would happen, I’m sure, if the road went the way he intended. With Switzerland as a barrier it will be another story. Mind you, I’ve a case ready to make out to Napoleon, in the spring. If I’m lucky, and he hears it first from me, I might even convince him. It’s an easier route, will cost less, take less time, be cheaper to maintain. I managed to convince his engineers, but then they are engineers, not military strategists. And they don’t know much about our export trade.’

  ‘It always comes back to that,’ she said. ‘Did you know that Napoleon himself saw to it that Lissenberg remained independent under the treaty of Rastatt?’

  ‘Did he? Well, that’s encouraging at least.’ He held out a hand. ‘Am I forgiven, Cristabel?’

  ‘Forgiven?’ She made herself ignore the hand. If she let him touch her, anything might happen. ‘Long ago. What else could you do?’

  ‘What else could we do? Are you going to call on Martha? She is missing Mademoiselle de Beauharnais, I think.’

  ‘Good gracious. Then I’ll certainly stop and see her.’ She was grateful to him for getting them so easily past the moment of tension. She smiled. ‘I think you may find your brother Max misses her too.’

  ‘Now there’s a thought for the spring! Cristabel –’

  But she had swept him a deep curtsy and turned away.

  Chapter 16

  The snow slackened in the night, giving way to a brilliant blue morning, and the search-parties were just starting out when a hooded figure came in sight, ploughing through drifted snow at the turn of the mountain road.

  ‘Fylde, do you think?’ Joseph, leading the party, turned back to Franz, who had agreed to stay home with Martha.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Franz shook his head. ‘Not tall enough. Look – it’s one of the Fathers.’

  ‘So it is! With news, I hope.’ He had recognised the man now as a probationer who had jibbed at taking the Trappists’ final vow of silence. He moved forward to greet him as an old friend. ‘Heinz! What brings you out through this new snow?’

  ‘We need a doctor –’ He paused, remembering. ‘Highness! We’ve got a very sick man up there. Brother Anselm found him when he was tending the cow last night. He’d got as far as the outer fence, fallen there, lain in the snow God knows how long. We got him in, warmed him as best we could, but his breath rattles in his chest … He’s not come round at all … We need help, highness. The brothers sent me to you.’

  ‘Do you know who it is?’

  ‘Brother Martin thinks it’s the tenor from the opera house. He heard him once last summer. We’re afraid for his voice, highness, as well as his life.’

  ‘I’ll come.’ Joseph turned to tell a servant to fetch his medical bag. ‘Franz, send down to Cristabel will you? Tell her that her husband is found. Don’t let her try to come to him. The path is going to be bad enough for me. If I can I’ll have him brought down to the palace, but I doubt I’ll be able to. Any further exposure might kill him.’

  ‘He must have been out long enough already, if he was not found till nightfall.’

  ‘I’m afraid so. Tell her not to be too hopeful.’

  ‘Hopeful?’ The brothers exchanged a long look.

  Desmond Fylde was lying on the bed that had been Joseph’s during the summer he had spent with the Fathers. They had heaped him with all the coverings they could find, and put hot bricks to his feet, but he was still shivering convulsively. His breath came harsh and painfully and he looked an old man, Joseph thought, the vital spirit drained out of him.

  He muttered to himself as Joseph examined him and sent for more hot bricks, a charcoal stove close to the bed, anything to get rid of his deadly chill. ‘No use.’ The words became intelligible at last, but the sunken eyes looked unseeingly past Joseph. ‘I’m finished, done for. Better like this. Let me go, there’s a good fellow. To be an old man, an old fool, sitting by someone else’s fire?’ He spoke as if every word hurt him. ‘She mocked me. Threw me out! Into the snow … Only being civil … Threw me out … So cold … Going to the Fathers … Thinking of a story … Snowing all the time.’ He paused for a moment, breathing heavily. ‘She led me on! Of course she did. An Irish prince … I told her … Invade Ireland … Her uncle … Bitch! … Long line of Irish princes …’ His eyes focused at last on Joseph. ‘It’s the doctor prince! A prince at my bedside. At my deathside. No!’ He pushed away the offered hot drink. ‘One prince to another – let me go. Nothing left … Laughed at … mocked … into the snow … used up … useless … the Hound of Ulster!’

  Joseph fought for him all that day and all night, but with less and less hope. With no fight from within, no will to live, what chance could there be? Minette had destroyed some vital cog in Fylde’s machinery, broken him with one ruthless gesture. By next morning, he had stopped muttering and the slow, painful breath was only a whisper.

  Not long now, Joseph thought as the light grew, and looked up to see Cristabel standing in the doorway, dressed in one of her men’s costumes, under a heavy fur coat. ‘Is he –?’

  ‘Dying.’ Joseph made room for her by the bed and she took Fylde’s hand.

  ‘He’s so cold! What happened?’

  ‘He did go with Minette. From what he said, she had him thrown out of the carriage … He lost his way in the snow. Cristabel, he doesn’t want to live …’

  ‘No.’ She looked down thoughtfully at the still figure on the bed, rubbing the cold hand between both her own. ‘He wouldn’t, not like this.’

  ‘Cristabel?’ Fylde’s tired eyes opened.

  ‘Yes.’ She bent closer.

  ‘I’m sorry. Such a fool … But tell him, tell your doctor prince she doesn’t know … I never told her … not about the road … princes don’t … Kiss me, my queen?’

  She bent to do so, felt the effort he made, and then –

  ‘He’s gone,’ said Joseph quietly.

  ‘Ah, poor Desmond.’ One long look, then she bent to close the staring eyes with a hand that shook just a little. ‘I loved him, you know. Once. I’m glad I was here. But it was you I came for. There’s trouble at the palace.’


  ‘Trouble?’

  ‘The French. They’ve taken over the palace. Moved in last night. Disarmed our guards … You weren’t there … Luckily I’d stayed with Martha – Why had nobody told me about her? Max and Franz are under arrest, I think, but nobody bothered about us, just put a guard on the door. So I came through the tunnel. Martha told me about it. I didn’t like it much, but we must go back that way. Surprise them.’

  ‘I’d forgotten about that tunnel.’ He had belatedly taken in that she was not covered in snow, then, looking down at the body, ‘I’ll tell them to bury him here, shall I? Before the ground freezes too hard.’

  ‘Yes, please. Poor Desmond,’ she said again. ‘I’m glad you were with him. Thank you, Joseph.’ She touched Fylde’s cold forehead. ‘We must hurry! Martha’s alone.’

  He gave the orders quickly and five minutes later they were in the tunnel. So much to say, and none of it could be said. He was almost glad that the going was so difficult. ‘You were a heroine to manage this alone,’ he told her, sighing with relief as he opened the door at the far end.

  ‘Oh, heroines!’ They were climbing the rough inner stair in the palace now and she pushed cautiously at the secret door into the royal apartments.

  ‘Thank God!’ Martha rose to greet them, hugged Cristabel and turned to Joseph. ‘What are we going to do? They’ve got Franz!’

  ‘Do you know where he is?’ He put a soothing hand on hers.

  ‘Anna’s trying to find out. He’s being held hostage to make you give yourself up. If you don’t, it will be the dungeons …’

  ‘I wonder where they think I am,’ said Joseph.

  ‘Nobody’s told them anything. I do know that.’

  ‘And nobody will,’ said Cristabel. ‘If I know the Lissenbergers. But I wish I understood …’

  ‘There are so few of the French. And no leader among the officers.’ Joseph had been thinking about it too. ‘Something must have panicked them.’