by Dilly Court
Rufus caught her by the arm as she was about to enter the building. ‘What should we do if you don’t return?’
‘Give me an hour, and if I haven’t come back by then you must go and find Aristide. He’s well in with the local police.’ Nettie broke away from him and let herself into the stone passageway. She had not dared to look Rufus in the eye or he would realise that she had been lying. The only contact that Aristide had with the local gendarmerie was when he had been arrested, but Rufus was not to know that, and if it kept him and Percy from barging into the château it was worth a little white lie.
She walked quickly, dodging in and out of doorways when she heard footsteps, but as luck would have it she managed to get to the main part of the château without being spotted. The meandering corridors and stone staircases were confusing, but Nettie concentrated hard, noting artefacts that had caught her eye on her previous visit. There were crossed swords on the wall over a portrait of a military gentleman at the foot of the stairs that led to the rooms in the east wing. She remembered that the sun had awakened her every morning during her previous stay, and when she reached the first landing she recognised a particularly fine oak chest, carved with flowers and birds. It was not far now to Constance’s room and Nettie breathed a sigh of relief, but she was not safe yet. Even if Constance was in the château, she could be anywhere. It was a chance, but one she had to take as she approached the bedroom door. She turned the handle gently, praying that the hinges would not shriek and give her away, but it opened silently and she peered inside.
Firelight flickered on the wall opposite, which must be a good sign, but just because the room was in use did not mean it was where she would find Constance. Emboldened, she pushed it open just enough to step inside and she could have shouted for joy when she spotted a familiar figure huddled in a huge armchair by the fire.
‘Constance,’ she called in a low voice. ‘Constance, it’s me, Nettie.’
Constance raised a tear-stained face, staring at her as if she were a ghost. ‘Nettie?’
‘Yes, I’m here.’ Nettie rushed over to her and went down on her knees at her friend’s side. ‘Are you all right? You’re not ill, are you?’
Constance shook her head and tears flowed freely down her pale cheeks. ‘Oh, Nettie. I was never so glad to see anyone in my whole life.’
Nettie wrapped her arms around Constance’s trembling body. ‘I’m here now. Has he harmed you?’
‘No, but he won’t let me go. He says I’ll stay here until I agree to live as his wife, if you know what I mean? I’ve held out so far, but I haven’t eaten properly for two days. He only allows me to have water and some dry bread, as if I were a prisoner.’
Nettie rose to her feet, staring down at the hunched figure of the girl who had once been so full of spirit and energy. ‘What has he done to you? And why is he treating you like this?’
‘I don’t know, Nettie. He’s told so many lies and changed the story so often that I don’t know what is true and what is false.’
‘But you haven’t given in to his demands?’
‘No, but I knew I couldn’t go on like this. I don’t know how you got here, but please take me home.’
‘Get dressed quickly. Rufus and Percy are waiting in the grounds.’ Nettie helped Constance to her feet. ‘Where are your things? We haven’t much time?’
Constance pointed weakly to a mahogany clothes press. ‘I don’t want anything that Duke bought for me.’
‘It doesn’t matter what you wear just so long as you’re warm. It’s very cold outside and we’ll be travelling on Aristide’s barge.’
Constance nodded dully. ‘All right, but we must hurry. They keep checking on me, although it’s a saint’s day and I think the servants are more interested in celebrating than in guarding me.’
Nettie went to the clothes press and took out a flannel petticoat and a dark blue woollen gown, which was the plainest and most practical garment she could find amongst the silks and satins. Together they managed to get Constance dressed and wrapped up in a fur-lined cloak. Nettie rifled through a chest of drawers and found gloves and stockings, and while Constance pulled on her hose Nettie searched the cupboards for a pair of leather boots.
‘Now, you’ll be warm enough in that outfit,’ Nettie said triumphantly. ‘All we have to do is get you to safety.’ She went to open the door and looked both ways, beckoning to Constance. ‘There’s no one coming. Hurry.’
Constance was weak from lack of food, but she managed to keep up by clutching Nettie’s arm and leaning on her. It did not make for a quick escape, although the sounds of merriment from the servants’ hall were encouraging. Nettie thought they were safe, but a door opened and a young maidservant stepped out of the pantry. She stared at them wide-eyed, and for a horrible moment Nettie thought she was about to cry out. Constance put her finger to her lips, and she murmured something in rapid French, which the girl acknowledged with a faint smile before going on her way.
Nettie did not stop to ask what Constance had said to persuade the servant to keep quiet, and she opened the outer door, taking a deep breath of cold, frosty air. Constance swayed on her feet and Nettie had to support her or she would have fallen. She could see Rufus and Percy standing in the entrance to the kitchen garden, but the back yard stretched out before them with nowhere to hide.
‘Try to walk, Constance,’ Nettie said in desperation. ‘It’s not far now and you’ll be away from here for ever.’
Constance made a valiant effort, but it was slow progress, and a shout rang out, echoing off the walls of the outbuildings.
‘Stop there. Don’t go a step further.’
Nettie glanced over her shoulder to see Duke striding across the cobblestones followed by a manservant.
‘It’s too late,’ Constance whispered. ‘I’m done for.’
‘No, you aren’t.’ Nettie gave her a hefty shove. ‘Run for it. I’ll delay him for as long as I can.’
Constance stumbled, but she managed to right herself and she picked up her skirts and ran towards Percy, who hurried to meet her.
Nettie spun round to face Duke. ‘Let her go. She doesn’t want you.’
Duke’s hand shot out and he grabbed Nettie by the arm, twisting it behind her back so that she cried out in pain. He held up his free hand, pointing at Rufus, who had started towards them. ‘Keep back. This has nothing to do with you.’
Rufus came to a halt. ‘Let her go.’
Duke tightened his grip, causing Nettie to wince with pain. ‘It seems I have the trump card. What is your interest in Miss Carroll? Do I detect a romance?’
‘Let me go, Duke,’ Nettie said through clenched teeth. ‘This is ridiculous. You’re behaving like a fool.’
‘Not so much of a fool. I have the upper hand, my dear, and I want what’s mine. Constance is my wife.’
‘You know you took advantage of her naivety and you tricked her into a sham marriage. I don’t know what you hoped to gain by keeping her here against her will, but it’s clear she doesn’t want anything to do with you.’
‘It’s true that I saved Constance’s father from bankruptcy, but I lied when I told her that I owned the gallery. I can’t get my hands on any of it unless we are legally man and wife.’
‘But you were prepared to forgo that pleasure when you thought that Lisette was a titled Spanish lady who owned a castle.’ Nettie twisted her head to look him in the eye, and she could see that her barb had hit home.
‘Let her go, Dexter.’ Rufus took a step nearer, but Duke’s manservant advanced on him, brandishing a shotgun.
Duke held up his hand. ‘A fair swap is required here. Send Constance to me and I’ll release Nettie.’
Rufus shook his head. ‘She’ll be safely out of the grounds by now. She’ll have told Percy everything and he’ll go to the police. It’s only a matter of time before they come to arrest you.’
‘On what grounds?’ Duke demanded. ‘In France I am known as Marc Gaillard, an honest art dealer. Du
ke Dexter is dead and the man the police want is Robert Carroll. He’s the forger, and they only have to alert the police in London. The evidence is there, in his studio.’ He laughed and relaxed his hold just enough to allow Nettie to break free from him. She backed away, glaring at him in disbelief.
‘But you promised Pa that it was fair and square. You said that the copies you asked him to make were to be sold as such.’
‘Your father is a fool, Nettie. The paintings he’s been working on are my insurance. They will incriminate him, and I, Marc Gaillard, will deny all knowledge.’ Duke took a step towards her, but Rufus was too quick for him. He snatched the gun from the servant’s hand, aiming it at Duke.
‘It would give me great pleasure to pepper you with shot, Dexter. It hurts, believe me, I know from experience, but the law will deal with you eventually.’ He held his hand out to Nettie. ‘Let’s go.’
She hesitated. ‘You disgust me, Duke. But you’ve taken advantage of my father for the last time. He trusted you and you’ve betrayed him yet again. Shame on you, that’s all I can say.’ She turned on her heel and walked away, heading for the kitchen garden and the path that led to the outside world. She did not stop until she reached the postern gate at the far end of the cherry orchard, where she found Percy holding Constance in his arms.
‘Are you all right, Constance?’ Nettie asked anxiously.
‘She’ll be fine when we get away from here,’ Percy said stoutly. ‘I’ll never let her go again.’
‘You go on ahead.’ Nettie glanced over her shoulder and was relieved to see Rufus striding towards them.
‘What about Duke?’ Constance clutched Percy’s hand. ‘He’s not likely to give up easily.’
‘He can’t touch you now,’ Percy said gently. ‘Can you walk, darling? You might be light as a feather, but I don’t think I can carry you all the way to the quay.’
‘I’m fine now I know you still love me,’ Constance said shyly. ‘I thought I had lost you, Percy.’
‘Never. I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with me and my family for a very long time. We’ll have your marriage annulled and then I’ll go down on one knee and propose.’
Nettie smiled. ‘First things first. We have to get back to London, and I’m not sure we have enough money.’
Percy glanced over her shoulder. ‘Here comes the man who can afford almost anything. Are you all right, Rufus? You don’t look as if it came to fisticuffs.’
Rufus broke the shotgun and propped it up against the wall. ‘I would have enjoyed shooting Duke Dexter, but in the end he gave up without a fight.’ He eyed Nettie with a worried frown. ‘Did he hurt you? If he did I’ll gladly go back and give him what for.’
‘He didn’t break my bones, but I know how to fix Marmaduke Dexter or Marc Gaillard, whichever he likes to call himself,’ Nettie said, chuckling.
‘How so?’ Rufus opened the postern gate and held it to allow Percy and Constance to pass.
‘Samson Wegg,’ Nettie said triumphantly. ‘He and Duke were supposed to have settled their differences, but I didn’t believe Wegg – he’ll do anything for money.’
Nettie stepped out into the lane. Duke might have taken her father for being a gullible cat’s paw, but now Duke Dexter was going to get his comeuppance. She would only have to put a word in the right quarter. Maybe Ma Burton and her shady contacts would come in useful after all.
They had to walk slowly for Constance’s sake, but when they reached the market square they found Lisette, Jean, Aristide and Byron seated round an outside table, shielded from a sudden rainstorm by the canvas awning. They were about to tuck into steaming bowls of soup and Nettie sniffed the air, realising that she was extremely hungry. Constance was so pale she looked as though she might faint at any moment.
Byron rose to his feet. ‘You’ve found her. Thank God for that. Come and sit down.’ He pulled up three more chairs and everyone shuffled up to make room for them. Jean Joubert summoned a waiter and gave him an order, which when it came turned out to be three more bowls of soup, and a basket of warm bread rolls. They ate hungrily and drank wine, followed by coffee and calvados, which Jean recommended highly. Then it was time for explanations and everyone listened intently while Nettie told them what had happened at the château, with Lisette acting as interpreter for her brother. Nettie finished by praising Rufus for standing up to Duke, which did not go down too well with Byron, who was openly dismissive.
‘I wouldn’t have allowed you to venture into the château by yourself in the first place, Nettie,’ he said, frowning.
‘You were pleased enough to let her go with Percy and myself,’ Rufus countered. ‘I did what anyone would have done in the circumstances.’
‘Nettie is a true friend.’ Constance reached across the table to pat Nettie’s hand. ‘I don’t want to think about what might have happened had you not been so brave. Duke can be very nasty when he’s put out.’
‘Well, you won’t be seeing him again.’ Percy slipped his arm around her shoulders. ‘I should have taken better care of you, Constance.’
Lisette rolled her eyes. ‘So you are in love with a married woman, Percy. What are you going to do about it?’
Percy glanced at his brother. ‘I was hoping that Byron would use his influence to get one of the solicitors to take Constance’s case.’
‘Of course I will,’ Byron said earnestly. ‘My job might not be the most exciting or the best paid, but it is important in its own way.’
‘You speak too fast, Byron.’ Jean shook his head. ‘I understand only a little English.’
‘I will teach you.’ Lisette gave her brother a brilliant smile. ‘I intend to stay here for a while, maybe permanently. I’m done with the theatre.’
Aristide moved his chair a little closer. ‘That is the best news I have had this year. We will become good friends, I hope, Condesa.’
‘Lisette,’ she said firmly. ‘No more condesa. I’m also done with pretending to be what I am not. Lisette Joubert is a water gypsy at heart.’
‘I would enjoy your company on my barge, Lisette.’ Aristide held his hand to his heart. ‘It would be my honour and my pleasure to take you wherever you wanted to go.’
Lisette gave him a long look. ‘I might take you up on that, Aristide. I feel the lure of the river calling to me.’
Nettie looked from one to the other. ‘I must get back to London. I need to tell my father that Duke has tricked him into making more forgeries. I suspected it all along, and now I know I was right.’
‘That man has a lot to answer for,’ Byron said angrily. ‘I’ll see you safely home, Nettie.’
Rufus cleared his throat. ‘I think you might need my assistance, old chap.’
‘I suppose you mean financially.’ Byron’s eyes flashed angrily and his colour deepened. ‘I suppose you enjoy throwing your money about.’
‘Byron! That’s not fair.’ Nettie rose from the table. ‘I can only think it’s the wine talking. It’s not like you to be so rude.’
Byron pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘Not at all. I speak as I find, and I wonder why he has attached himself to our party. This is our business, not yours, Norwood. We don’t need you or your money to get us home to London.’
Jean also rose to his feet. ‘Come with me, mon neveu. We will talk together. Yes?’ He looped his arm around his nephew’s shoulders and they walked off slowly, Byron glancing over his shoulder and scowling at Rufus.
Aristide signalled to the waiter, who hurried to give him the bill. Aristide gazed at it, frowning. ‘Monsieur Norwood, if you are sincere in wanting to help, perhaps you would settle with the waiter?’
Rufus smiled and nodded. ‘Happy to do so, providing it doesn’t offend anyone.’
Lisette nodded approvingly. ‘Well said, Rufus. Don’t allow my son’s rudeness to upset you. I’m afraid it’s the green-eyed monster raising its ugly head.’
Nettie sighed. ‘Byron doesn’t own me. Why do men complicate matters?’
Pe
rcy helped Constance to her feet. ‘Because we are men, my dear Nettie. Don’t worry about my brother – he’ll get over it.’
‘There’s nothing to get over,’ Nettie said firmly. ‘There was never an understanding between us, and Rufus is just a friend.’ She fixed Rufus with a steady look. ‘That’s the truth, isn’t it?’
‘We should be discussing how we are going to get home,’ Percy said urgently. ‘It’s one thing to report Dexter to the local gendarmerie, and quite another for them to act on it.’
‘I agree.’ Nettie glanced up at the darkening sky. ‘I think it’s going to rain again. Perhaps we should head back to the barge and we can decide what to do under cover. I need to get home as soon as possible.’
Aristide proffered his arm to Lisette. ‘You are all welcome to stay on board. I could take you as far as Le Havre.’
‘That sounds delightful,’ Lisette said, smiling. ‘I have no wish to return to London.’
‘Your reputation might suffer if you come with me.’ Aristide was suddenly serious.
‘What reputation?’ Lisette tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. ‘I have none to lose.’
Lisette was adamant that she wanted to stay in France, although Byron and Percy did their best to persuade her to return to London. Aristide and Jean promised to look after her, and were promptly put in their place by Lisette, who informed them that she was perfectly capable of managing her own affairs. Nettie could tell by the gleam in the condesa’s eyes that she was at the start of yet another adventure, and nothing would make her change her mind.
Nettie was eager to get home. She needed to convince her father that Duke had not changed, and that he intended to pass the copies off as original works of art. That done, she would feel free to seek Wegg’s assistance in bringing Duke Dexter to justice. All this went through Nettie’s mind during the train journey to Calais where they boarded the steam packet for Dover. It was a rough crossing and Constance was prostrate with seasickness and confined to the cabin, with Percy seeing to her needs as tenderly as any nursemaid. Nettie soon found her sea legs, but her problem was of a different kind, and she did her best to keep the peace between Byron and Rufus. She gave up after a while and went out on deck, leaving them seated in the saloon, glaring at each other. It was dark and the rough sea lashed the sides of the vessel, but Nettie took deep breaths of the salt-laden air as she clung to the ship’s rail, watching the white-crested waves in awe. Already the scene that would begin her next novel was taking shape in her mind. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she barely noticed the passing of time, but suddenly, in the distance, she could see the lights of Dover twinkling in the darkness.