by Stella Riley
Using his own cypher – which he was pleased to find came as easily to him as it had done two years ago – he listed everything that had been agreed, followed by a list of the minor details still to be addressed. Then he sat back and contemplated the fruit of his efforts, searching for any possible loop-holes. It looked water-tight enough. He hoped to God that it was.
Hearing the front door open, he folded his notes and slid them inside his coat. He stood up, automatically giving his right thigh the usual stretch and strolled into the hall, hoping to see Athenais smile.
She didn’t. Her face was white and tense and she stared at him helplessly for a moment before crossing to his side and staring up at him. Ashley put an arm around her and looked past her at Francis and Pauline – both of whose expressions were a peculiar mixture of interest and smugness.
Ignoring them, Ashley looked down at Athenais and said, ‘What’s wrong?’
‘They found a body,’ she muttered, into his coat. ‘In the river.’
‘In private, I think,’ suggested Francis, opening the parlour door.
Once inside the room, with the door shut behind them, Ashley said, ‘Francis?’
‘A body has been pulled from the Seine and they think it’s d’Auxerre’s. Something to do with a scar on his shoulder.’
Frowning, Ashley shook his head.
‘That’s not possible. By now, there won’t be enough left of him to identify.’
‘We know that. They obviously don’t. And from what I heard tonight, this fellow can’t have been in the water more than three or four days.’
‘The wrong body? Good.’
‘Since no one’s seen the man in more than five weeks, I imagine they’ll eventually work that out,’ remarked Pauline. ‘Meanwhile, the Cardinal has ordered an investigation.’
‘So?’ Feeling Athenais’s fingers flex convulsively, Ashley looked reassuringly down at her and said, ‘It’s all right. There isn’t anything to connect the Marquis to this house and nothing here for anyone to find. Francis and I were very thorough.’
She looked up at him. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Perfectly.’ He shot an irritable glance at Francis. ‘You know as well as I do that there’s nothing to worry about. Why didn’t you tell her?’
‘He tried,’ said Pauline. ‘For some reason, she wanted to hear it from you.’
Suspicion stirred in Ashley’s mind but he put it to one side. He said, ‘Athenais, listen to me. D’Auxerre’s body is never going to surface now and the fact that someone has mistakenly identified a fresh corpse will muddy the waters even further. No one is ever going to know what happened to him and you are completely safe. I guarantee it.’
She sighed and let her hands relax. ‘Thank you. Everyone at the theatre was talking about it and all I could think was that I killed him and I – I ought to be sorry. But I’m not.’
‘I’m not sorry either,’ said Ashley. ‘In fact, if you want the unvarnished truth, I’m proud of you.’
* * *
Upstairs in her room whilst taking the pins from her hair, Athenais said thoughtfully, ‘Proud of me, Ashley? For killing a man?’
‘No. Proud of you for taking control back and not letting the bastard get away with hurting you. And you didn’t kill a man, darling. You exterminated vermin.’
She stopped what she was doing and stood for a moment, turning the hairpins over and over in her hands. ‘Do you ever dream about the war? About battles?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘And the men you’ve killed?’
‘Yes.’ But not those in battle. ‘It will get easier, love. But, until it does, if you have nightmares, call me. I’ll always come.’
‘I know. I know you will.’ She summoned a smile and finished letting her hair down. ‘Are you going to be busy again tomorrow?’
‘Probably. And for some days after that, I suspect.’ He reached for her hairbrush. ‘Sit down and let me do this tonight. Time to put aside unpleasant thoughts.’
She did as he asked and felt him section off her hair, then drawn the brush though it in long, slow strokes. For a time, neither of them spoke but, after a while, she said, ‘I wish … I wish I could tell you that I …’ She stopped helplessly.
‘I know. I wish it, too.’ His brain had a firm grasp of what was possible between them but sometimes his body disagreed and, when that happened, he had to make sure she never saw any sign of it. ‘But you’ll tell me when you’re ready. And we have plenty of time.’
And, like his water-tight plan, he hoped to God that it was true.
* * *
During the course of the following morning, a message arrived from Cyrano de Bergerac confirming the assistance of the ex-musketeers and offering to deal with the hire of the second coach. Pauline and Francis examined the theatre wardrobe and set selected coats, cloaks and hats together so they could be easily retrieved when the time came. And Ashley considered, then decided against, visiting Hyde to ask for servants’ liveries and coin for expenses. He was averse to revealing his plans any sooner than he must and was fairly confident that, if and when another letter came, there would be at least a day’s grace in which to finalise the arrangements. Unfortunately, he found that waiting made him edgy and had to work hard at not letting it show.
He spent time helping Athenais learn a new role. Froissart wanted to re-cast her role in Ménage Deux so she’d be free to take the lead in the next full-length play. Having initially agreed to the change, Athenais had started fretting over it and received a stern lecture from Pauline as a result. When she told Ashley about this he grinned and said, ‘Pauline has her back to the wall and is taking it out on the rest of us.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Francis says he’s going to marry her.’
Athenais’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped.
‘Really? She didn’t tell me that. She more or less admitted that she’s in love with him but wouldn’t say whether he loved her. And all the time, she knew that … and never said a word. I could murder her.’
‘I gather she hasn’t said yes yet – which means that Francis is probably plaguing her.’
‘Good.’ Athenais made a little sound half way between annoyance and laughter. ‘She deserves to be plagued. Goodness knows, she’s forever sticking her nose into my affairs. Do you think Francis might appreciate a little help?’
‘I’m sure he’d be delighted,’ grinned Ashley. And then, ‘I take it that you think she ought to accept?’
‘Yes. Don’t you? I mean, I know she’s an actress and he’s a Viscount, but --’
‘That’s of no importance whatsoever.’
‘Isn’t it?’ she asked, not without a tiny hint of wistfulness.
‘No.’ Something inside his chest curled up tight. ‘What matters is whether Pauline is as utterly besotted as Francis. If she’s not, their relationship is unlikely to last.’
‘You’re very gloomy,’ observed Athenais. ‘Why shouldn’t she be besotted?’
‘Why isn’t she saying yes?’ countered Ashley.
‘Because he’s handsome and charming and talented and a Viscount, of course. And she doesn’t believe she’s good enough for him.’
‘It’s that simple?’
‘Yes.’ I know exactly how she feels. Particularly now. ‘She doesn’t want … she wouldn’t ever want to be less than he deserves.’
The thing in Ashley’s chest turned into a cold, hard lump. He said, ‘I suspect we’re no longer talking about Pauline and Francis. And if that’s so, I have only one thing to say.’
‘What?’
‘I’m neither talented nor titled – or even particularly charming. And you are the light of my life and the only thing that gives it true meaning. So don’t ever think yourself unworthy. You’re not. I’m the one who is undeservedly fortunate.’
* * *
The day dragged by with immeasurable slowness. Although he didn’t think there would be any new developments, Ashley recognised the wisdom
of not stirring from the house in case he was mistaken. Francis escorted Athenais and Pauline to the theatre and stayed there. Jem wandered off on some pursuit of his own. Ashley paced the hall and grew increasingly restless.
He found himself envying Francis. Envying the confidence with which he’d offered Pauline his name and his certainty that the future would take care of itself in exactly the way he wanted. From time to time since Archie’s death, Ashley had contemplated asking Athenais to marry him. He had no more to offer her now than he’d ever had but he knew she would say yes without a second’s hesitation. And that was why he didn’t do it. He knew that she could and should do better; and the knowledge held him back.
He would be indescribably glad when this Honfleur business was over. Aside from the fact that the waiting was killing him, he found himself going over and over the details – even though he knew there was no point to it since he could already recite them to music. Even more pointless were his attempts to second-guess the enemy’s plans. Once he had the final piece of information, he might make better progress with that; but, for the time being, all he could count on was the fact that there wouldn’t be less than four assassins – and could be six or even eight. Four shouldn’t be difficult ; six might require a little extra effort; eight would be a challenge.
Francis walked into the parlour alone, saying quietly, ‘Anything?’
‘No. Tomorrow, hopefully – before I start climbing the walls. Where are the girls?’
‘In the kitchen – arguing. You told Athenais I intend to marry Pauline.’
‘Ah. Has that created a problem?’
‘Not for me. Or not yet, anyway. She’s too busy fending off Athenais to drop rocks on my head for telling you in the first place. Doubtless she’ll get round to that later.’
Ashley shook his head. ‘I don’t know what there is in that to look so pleased about. After yesterday, she scares the hell out of me.’
‘And rightly so,’ agreed Francis blithely. ‘But you don’t have the fun of talking her round and the intense pleasure of making up afterwards.’
‘True. All I have is a sense of self-preservation that’s warning me to make a strategic retreat before I get caught in the cross-fire. If Athenais asks, I’ll be upstairs.’ And he went.
Five minutes later, Athenais walked in three steps ahead of Pauline saying wickedly, ‘I can’t imagine why you want to marry her, Francis. She’ll nag you to death inside a month. And considering that there are at least three girls at the theatre who’d take you in a heart-beat if you were to ask, I don’t see what she’s dithering about.’
‘You’re a comfort, darling – and I’ll bear the thought in mind.’
‘She’s not a comfort – she’s an interfering busybody!’ snapped Pauline.
‘Goodness! If that’s not pot calling kettle,’ retorted Athenais, enjoying herself. ‘I’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve tried to do my breathing for me. All I’m doing now is returning the favour.’ She smiled at Francis. ‘She’s a hopeless case, Francis and you have my most profound sympathy. If it were me, you wouldn’t have to ask twice.’
‘If it were you,’ replied Francis with an answering smile, ‘Ashley would have my head. He’s upstairs, by the way – instead of standing shoulder to shoulder with me and taking his punishment like a man.’
‘Do you blame him?’ she asked, heading for the door. And, to Pauline, ‘Stop being so bloody-minded. The man wrote you a play, for God’s sake.’
She paused outside long enough to hear Pauline say irritably, ‘What else have you told Ashley? And who else have you confided in?’
‘Nothing – and no one. Credit me with a little pride. Ashley knows you well enough not to be surprised if you turn me down. Anyone else will just assume I’m useless in bed.’
Suppressing a laugh, Athenais ran lightly up the stairs.
With the exception of his coat, Ashley was still fully dressed. It occurred to her that, since That Night, he always had been. He’d even put a washing-bowl in the dressing-closet so that he could shave without removing his shirt in front of her. The degree of his care … the lengths he seemed to consider necessary for her peace of mind made her throat ache. He never touched her unless she indicated that it would be welcome; no word of blame ever escaped his lips – only ones of undemanding affection and encouragement; and if he suffered the pangs of frustrated desire, he made sure she never knew it. She couldn’t imagine what all this was costing him. But she decided it was time she at least tried to make it easier.
She closed the door, leaned against it and shook her head dolefully.
‘Francis thinks you’re a coward.’
‘I won’t argue with that. What have you been saying to Pauline?’
‘This and that. It’s more what I said to Francis while she was listening. I told him that other girls would show a bit more appreciation and that if he proposed to me, he wouldn’t have to ask twice.’
Ashley surveyed her over folded arms. ‘And did he?’
‘Propose? No. He said you’d have his head – which makes him as much of a coward as you.’ She hoisted herself on to the window-seat and swung her crossed ankles. ‘Froissart’s given my role in Ménage to Jacqueline. And I’ve got five full acts of an Alexandre Hardy tragi-comedy to learn.’
‘Life is hard,’ he said, laughter brimming unexpectedly in his eyes. ‘I can only applaud your fortitude.’
Her mouth quivered in response.
‘And so you should. I’ll learn all those words … and by the end of Act Three half the audience will be on the verge of walking out. It’s very dispiriting.’
‘It must be. All those young fellows sighing when you take a deep breath and never daring to take their eyes from the stage in case they miss a glimpse of ankle? Torture.’
‘You have no idea. If you had, you wouldn’t think it was funny.’
Ashley grinned and sat down beside her.
‘Did I say it was?’
‘You thought it – and that is quite enough.’ She leaned her head against his shoulder. ‘Is English theatre really as awful as they say?’
‘I haven’t much experience of it. Between leaving university and the start of the war, I spent my time in the country so the only plays I ever saw were ones performed by travelling troupes. The acting wasn’t generally up to much but some of the plays were better than the ones I’ve seen here.’
‘Shakespeare? Francis told me about him. He said there are some wonderful female roles if only the law allowed females to play them.’ She yawned. ‘What did you do at university?’
‘All the usual things. Latin, a little Greek … and a lot of raising merry hell.’
‘Wicked man. And at your home in country?’
‘I did whatever my father asked – if I wasn’t quick enough to absent myself before he asked it. Took care of the horses, helped bring in the harvest, listened to the tenants.’
‘And then the war came and you went to fight.’
‘Yes. And once the fighting stopped, I came here and met you.’ He dropped a fleeting kiss on her hair. ‘So there you have it. My entire life story.’
‘No,’ Athenais said seriously. ‘Only a part of it. As you said, the fighting has stopped … and the Marquis is at the bottom of the river instead of trying to kill you.’ She tucked her hand into his and gave a tiny, unexpected gurgle of laughter. ‘Only think – there are years yet for us to plague each other.’
‘Very true,’ replied Ashley, shutting his mind against the inevitable thought. ‘Only think.’
~ * * ~ * * ~
TEN
On the following morning after a fitful night’s sleep, Ashley entered the kitchen to find Pauline staring fixedly into the steam rising from a pan of water. He said, ‘If you get any reliable visions, I’d be happy to hear them.’
‘What?’ She blinked and turned to face him. ‘Where’s Athenais?’
‘Still asleep.’
Pauline straightened her shoulders and cros
sed to the bread-crock to begin her morning routine. She said, ‘I suppose I owe you an apology, don’t I?’
‘No. The situation is my fault – given that I could have avoided it altogether. And naturally you’re worried. It would be amazing if you weren’t.’
‘Which is why we’re keeping it from Athenais.’
‘Yes.’
‘That can’t be easy for you.’
‘It isn’t. Sooner or later, I’m going to have to lie to her … and that’s not something I relish. But if knowing the truth has you – the strongest woman I’ve ever met – scared silly over what may happen --’
‘Athenais, as she is just now, won’t cope with it at all,’ she interposed flatly. ‘I know.’
He watched her for a moment, concern mingling with caution.
‘Have you healed your differences with Francis?’
Head bent over slices of sausage, Pauline gave a snort of despairing laughter.
‘It’s impossible to be angry with Francis for more than ten minutes at a time. I don’t know how he does it but he always manages to say something either ludicrous or heart-wrenching. And then he just smiles and I can’t … I can’t seem to assemble a logical argument or even remember why I was angry in the first place. It’s like fighting a curtain.’
Ashley smiled. ‘That, in itself, must be maddening. But you know, Pauline … if you love him that much, you really ought to put him out of his misery and marry him.’
She shot him a sharp glance and continued slicing sausage.
‘Francis isn’t miserable. He’s damned well enjoying himself.’
‘I’m sure that’s what he wants you to think.’
‘And you must know as well as I do that the idea of him marrying a disfigured, aging actress is totally ridiculous.’