'Yes, my lady. He was looking, we finks, for a road that joins the Dover road. But not direct. He wants one that takes a cross-country path for six or seven miles.'
'Very suspicious,' said Lady Aurora enjoying herself.
'Yes, my lady. And he ses to the groom that he'll likely take the Cowper Hill road. He said it twice.'
'But you don't think so.'
'The wider roads are on Calderbeck Farm, my lady,' Nancy said, glad she had such a quick-witted auditor. 'I searched his room, my lady. I'm not proud of doing so, but—'
'Needs must at war, my dear!' approved Her Ladyship.
'Yes, my lady. But there was nothing very interesting, except the contents of a rosewood box—'
'We knew about that.'
'And a sack that was delivered today, with another box with naked Greek people on it.'
'Dancing, I expect,' said Lady Aurora, knowingly.
'The Greeks do seem to do a deal of dancing,' frowned Nancy, whom Lady Aurora was beginning to love. 'And that was all — until I went home, my lady.'
'At home?'
'My Bill is a farrier, miss. He shod your horse.' She smiled proudly. 'But when I lifted his apron this evening — he never remembers to leave it at the smith's, my lady — he'd left a nail clincher in the pocket.'
Lady Aurora had no idea what a nail clincher was, but she forewent interruption, nodding sagely.
'And I remember the other day I was moving a coat of the Frenchie's, sorry the—' but Lady Aurora waved her onto the point, '—that had a similar weight in it.' As Lady Aurora looked stumped Nancy forgave her, since she herself had missed it at the time. She helped her along. 'Something metal must have been in the pocket, my lady, something—'
'A pistol!' said Lady Aurora. 'It is something that many travelling gentlemen carry, I suppose. But in this case, it really is chilling.'
'I can't be sure, my lady.'
'But it is likely,' nodded Lady Aurora. 'You wish me to relay all this to Mr Steadman?' The young woman nodded. 'Well, he will be very grateful, as am I. Thank you so much for your help, Nancy.'
'I'll get down, my lady,' said Nancy, before the lady finished opening her reticule. 'Thank you for listening, my lady.' Then, like a flash, she was gone.
***
Curtis Fox entered his brother's study, in the late afternoon, but Jenkins informed him that His Lordship was in the green salon. 'He is?' Curtis was surprised.
'Your mother,' added Jenkins, 'is abed.'
'Has she sent for the doctor?' Curtis enquired, with only a slight interest.
'No sir. She's merely resting.'
'Good then, I'll go and find Fox.'
He entered the green salon, and seeing Fox standing by the fire he said laughingly, 'They tell me in the stables that a search was mounted for Miss Eames yesterday but that they will all be sent off without a character if I am to mention it to Mama.' Belatedly Curtis noticed the presence of another three gentlemen, sitting on two chairs and a sofa on the other side of the room, a table between them with cards on it. He bowed slightly. 'Oh, hello Audley, Steadman, Mr Fenton, sir. Here to visit the ladies?'
All three gentlemen were surprised at the most human face of Curtis Fox they had ever seen. His usually pale face was lightly tanned, perhaps from riding his estate in Wiltshire, but it was more than that. The friendly tone he used on Fox, the lack of the pout that had so disfigured a young and handsome face, the relaxed demeanour, made him look like a new man.
'I must suppose everyone here knows what happened,’ the young man continued easily. ‘Where did she go missing? Did she fall in the lake or some such thing? You really should see to the blue bridge, Edward, it's damnedly old,' he added as an afterthought.
'I'll keep it in mind,' said Fox, dully.
'So, what transpired?'
'We do not know.' Audley informed him.
'Still?' said Curtis confused.
'We would know,' continued Steadman, 'If Fox would talk to Miss Eames.'
Fox's brows were down, his foot tapping on the metal bars at the hearth, in a posture Curtis knew well. 'What, in the sullens, Edward? I thought you liked the girl.'
'He does,' purred Fenton. 'That is why he will not talk to her.'
If looks could kill, Fenton would be slain, but it only caused the three guests to exchange grins. Curtis, happy not to be the target of Fox's rage this time, said, 'Well, I don't suppose it matters if she is now safe.' He looked at his brother, and threw a faggot in the fire for old time's sake. 'Unless,' he said significantly, 'Mama finds out.'
Fox's head shot up as he hissed, 'Curtis!' but met his brother's grin instead of a threatening smirk. He expelled air.
'The ladies are in the red salon, including my newly arrived wife.’ Fenton sighed, as though tasked with a great burden. ‘I shall go and ask Ianthe once more.'
Mr Fenton did not actually go into the red salon, but instead took a footman's seat against the wall in the Hall, and under the interested eye of Jenkins, three footmen and a maid on her way to deliver tea to the ladies, he buffed his nails on his jacket sleeves with great attention then leant back against the wall, endangering the delicate legs of the chair, and whistled. After five minutes of this, he stood unhurriedly and re-entered the green salon.
'Yesterday Ianthe met the comte, agreed to marry him and is leaving for France tomorrow,' he announced.
There was a stunned silence before Fox moved, 'Where is she?'
The servants were newly entertained as a furious Fox, followed by a tail of gentlemen, marched across the Hall and into the red salon.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Secrets Unleashed
Two of the ladies in the red room were a trifle wan, having spent an hour of the day in concentrated tears, and, in the case of Sally, many other moments in spontaneous spurts of them. Lady Aurora and Lady Richards were serving tea to the afflicted ones (though both young ladies were now wearing plucky little smiles), with Cherie hovering in the vicinity of her mistress, and two footmen at the doors.
'Out!' ordered Fox to the servants, who departed, all except the French maid, who did not move from behind Ianthe's chair. 'You,' he said, marching forward and pointing threateningly at Ianthe, 'are not going to France.'
Ianthe stood, a game bantam ready for the fray.
'Oh yes?' she said derisively. 'And who, pray, will prevent me?
'But Ianthe is not intending to go—' began Lady Richards, appeasing, before her swain, who had arrived at her side, nudged her. Lady Aurora gave Steadman an approving smile.
'I will! You shall not leave this house.'
'Oh no?' said Ianthe, reverting to the negative. He was looming over her now, and she looked up at him belligerently. Sally was close to the energy coming from the two bodies, and it shook her.
'You will not marry that French fop,' Fox snarled.
'Oh yes?' said Ianthe.
Fenton, who had found himself a seat beside Steadman said, 'Wonderful performance! But the dialogue lacks finesse.'
Steadman's serious face broke.
'Fenton and Audley brought word this afternoon. There is much you do not know about that comte of yours.'
'And I,' said Lady Aurora. 'I brought word, too.'
'So you did, my dear,' soothed her husband. Her Ladyship smiled at him.
'What word?' demanded Ianthe. 'What have you kept from me?'
'I did not tell you,’ spat Fox, ‘because you hadn't told me anything.'
'Because you would not listen!' she hit back.
'Why would I want to listen to what I already knew. You had been crying. And it was probably over him!'
'You are right as always, my lord. Lord Fox, always known for his sensibility and empathy!' Curtis laughed at this and was frowned down by Sally. As Sally turned her head, she noticed Audley’s presence.
'What is he still doing here?' she said venomously.
'Sally!' cried her mother, shocked. But at the same moment the marquis had cried the same thing. Her mother's instinct snappe
d awake again, and Emma Richards jerked upright. What had the marquis just called her daughter? And in what tone?
'This reminds me of a similar performance,' Fenton leaned over Steadman to say to his wife. 'All we need is Mr Mosely to make it complete.'
'He's here somewhere,' said Her Ladyship. 'I saw him.'
'You did? How perfect. Perhaps we should send for him.' Fenton looked around. 'Oh. No footmen. Shh!'
'If I want to forgive Antoine and m… marry him, it is quite my affair. How is it yours? You,' she informed him, 'don't even like me.'
'Antoine!' mocked Fox, 'Antoine! Your precious Antoine has robbed you blind and you didn't even know it.'
(An aside took place between Mr Fenton and Mr Steadman. 'Steadman, this might be a good time to send for Mr Mosely, if you'd find a footman.'
Steadman nodded and left.)
'Fox!' reproved Audley, moving forward, 'That is hardly the way.' He moved past the dead eye of Sally Richards and past the looming figure of Fox and reached out for Ianthe's hands, which he held as he said, 'It is true, Ianthe.' He looked over her head at the Frenchwoman and said, 'You guessed some of it aright, Cherie. The vowels were all false, put in the bureau drawer by Antoine himself, as I believe.'
Cherie came forward putting an arm about her charge's shoulders, and Ianthe looked at her piteously for a moment before recovering herself. Fox, ousted by the marquis, was now standing next to Curtis. 'The maid!' said his brother, confused.
'Sshh!' said Fox, concentrating on Ianthe's face. Suddenly, he desperately wanted to know what he had spent the day avoiding knowing.
'What benefit could there be to Antoine in my paying those vowels to other people?'
Cherie spoke. 'The names, Wil-bert? Was it the names?'
Curtis, Steadman and the Richards were shocked by the use of Fenton's first name in the mouth of a servant, but all were too enthralled by the tale to interrupt.
Fenton spoke, not rising from his comfortable seat. 'That is it, Cherie. Joseph did not play with those people, just as you thought. But I recognised a name on the list you gave me. A Bonapartist.'
'Ah!'
'Audley brought more word from France today. All were Bonapartists.'
'So, Antoine — Antoine — used my inheritance to support the general's cause? But why? What good could come of that now? Even if Antoine had changed—' Ianthe shook her dark curls. 'No, it is not possible.'
Fox gave an expulsion of air. Still she defended him!
'The money from your jewels was given back to Antoine. They were just names to be used to gain the funds.'
'He wanted you to have nothing, to need him … je comprends bien!' muttered Cherie, and Ianthe cast her a glance.
'I think he was ensuring that you would take him, it is true,' said Audley.
'Not so sure of himself, the so-charming comte,' laughed Fenton derisively.
'He mistook me.' Fox looked back at her, admiring the tilt of her head as she stood there unsupported once more.
Audley had dropped her hands, Cherie had taken a step back, as though considering things on her own. 'I should have known…' she said. 'But the other things, the debts…'
'The gaming debts did not exist. There may have been other debts, Ianthe, but Joseph left a fortune. They were nothing.' Fenton's hand gestured lazily.
'What?'
'De Farge the lawyer is at the root of it.'
'He avoided seeing us as much as possible,' remembered Cherie.
'Yes. He was being threatened to keep something from you. It was not possible to steal your fortune from the Parisian bank where it was lodged. All De Farge had to do was deny the existence of the account.' Fenton smiled. 'You are quite a wealthy young lady, as I understand it.'
Ianthe sat down on a chair; Cherie put a hand on her shoulder. 'Papa did not fail us—' Cherie squeezed the shoulder. Ianthe looked up to Audley and Fenton. 'And if I had married Antoine …'
'De Farge would have discovered the account,' said Fenton.
The butler had entered with Mr Mosely, and now the servant edged to Fox, saying at a whisper, 'I was in the process of denying Lord Jeffries and Mr Markham, your lordship, thinking this was not the time—'
'Yes, very good,' said Fox distractedly.
'— but as I was doing so, Lady Fox came downstairs.'
Fox looked the butler full in the face. 'You don't mean to tell me—?'
'In the green salon now, sir. Her Ladyship sent me to find the ladies, sir.'
'Don't let them in here.'
Jenkins, receiving no further instructions, left.
'Mama is entertaining?' said Curtis, amused.
'I might have to send you to—'
'Not a hope. This is much too interesting.'
'I never liked you,' remarked Fox. The tone lacked rancour though, and Curtis grinned.
'You've obviously heard all of this, Steadman,' whispered Curtis to that man. 'Who is Antoine? And why does Ianthe hold her maid's hand?'
'Antoine is a French comte in love with Ianthe. And the maid — I am not sure about the maid.'
'Audley, what made de Farge talk?' asked Cherie.
It was Fenton who answered shortly, with a sinister laugh. 'Sebastian. He returned from Geneva.'
'It was all for the money?' said Ianthe.
'The comte did not want to keep the money, I think,' said Audley. 'He just wanted you to need him.'
'What about those jewels?' asked Lady Richards.
Ianthe lifted a hand as though to swat a fly. It was a gesture of dismissal, but the little man by the doorway said, in his oddly carrying and cheerful voice, 'Don't be worrying about that, miss. I picked them up myself today, after I had a little word with the gentleman.' Everyone had turned to him and he walked forward with a confident air. Ianthe recognised the man from the clearing who had secretly guarded her. 'That and another jewellery box in pretty colours.' Cherie stepped forward.
'Empty?' she said, rather desperately.
'All except…' The sharp-nosed fellow had walked forward and now reached into a capacious pocket and drew out a piece of paper with a flourish. 'This.'
Cherie came towards him, but the little man held the paper back. 'I just have to establish that this here document belongs to you, miss,' he said, in the tones of an official.
'Yes, it does,' Cherie said, reaching for it. Ianthe stood regarding Cherie, frowning. 'S'il vous plâit, monsieur.' Cherie's hand was shaking. Fox noted that the man shared a glance with Fenton.
'Then you were the former,' he intoned with emphasis, 'Ma'amoiselle Charlotte Dubois?'
'Yes, please…' Cherie was reaching but the paper seemed always to be just beyond her.
'Parents,' Mosely said, reading the paper, then looking up affably. 'It's the same word as in English, thankfully. Monsoor Pierre Dubois.' He held out the paper to Mr Fenton. 'What are the Frenchie words after Capitaine?' He grinned to the company. 'I guessed that one,' he confided.
'Capitaine de corvette,' said Fenton, entertained. 'It means lieutenant commander in the French navy.'
'A maid's father?' Curtis said, aghast.
'Mother, I think that is the word…' took up the little man, 'Lady Margaret Price. That's nice and English in any event.'
Ianthe came forward. 'What is this document?'
'It is also yours, I suppose miss,' said Mr Mosely. 'If you is the daughter of a Mr Joseph Eames?'
Ianthe's hand was swifter than Cherie's, or perhaps Mr Mosely helped, for she had twitched the document from his hand and was reading it avidly.
'Wil-bert!' said Cherie wrathfully, knowing the true culprit.
'My dear,' said Mrs Fenton soothingly. 'It is time she knows.'
'Married!' said Ianthe turning to her maid. 'Since 1804! She threw her hands around Cherie, and after half a second was wrapped in a warm embrace. 'Why did you not tell me you were my true step-mama? Why did you make me worry for you and be annoyed with Papa?'
'Good job you sent the servants out, Fox,' approved Curti
s Fox cheerily. 'These are rum old goings on. We've had a peer's granddaughter living in our servants' attic?'
'It was because of how we lived at first,' Cherie was answering into Ianthe's hair. 'I came to you as a governess who could speak my mother's tongue, but we had to live so perilously, changing ourselves so frequently. And then, it was because I knew the day might come when we had to live in England.'
'But your mama was Lady Margaret. You cannot think that this would bring me dishonour.'
'It could not add to your respectability. The Price family cast off my mother when she married a Frenchman.'
'What about the Bonapartists?' asked Steadman practically, as this affecting display was occurring.
'It seems the comte accepted money to aid a plan to free the general from St Helena,' said Audley.
'Impossible!' said Curtis. 'It is in the middle of the South Atlantic Ocean. They took very good care he cannot escape again.'
'Antoine conspired? No!' said Ianthe at this, pulling away from her mama slightly. 'Mr Fenton — you know how Antoine despised the Emperor.'
'He did not think it would succeed miss,' joined in the voice of Mr Mosely. 'That is why he was involved. He was desperate for the money, even with his new allowance. And he wanted to marry you, he told me, and he said he knew your father would not permit it with his accounts in such disorder.' The little man rubbed at his nose. 'But your father saw the comte with someone he shouldn't be talking to — not now the King is back in France. And so, he began to look into it.'
'That was the intrigue he was drawn back into,' said Cherie.
'And the conspirators found out,' said Ianthe.
'The accident to the carriage!' said Cherie.
'Arranged, Ianthe,' said Mr Fenton, quite sadly.
'Oh!'
Fox was beside her even before Cherie, who was looking stunned herself. He led Ianthe back to the chair, and she looked up at him. 'Are you better?' he asked.
Sally went helpfully to fetch some ratafia from a side table, poured a draught, and put it into her friend's hands.
Ianthe sipped.
'The whole scheme was preposterous,' remarked Steadman. How could they think it would succeed?'
'A bit less preposterous than we thought, as Mr Fenton discovered,' said Audley.
Ianthe and the Fighting Foxes: The Fentons Book 4 Page 23