The Travellers

by J. Howard Shelley

  Chapter 12

  Notwithstanding the way in which the orders were delivered to Guay, they were still orders. As soon as he had made the necessary arrangements for billeting his men he changed into a clean uniform and repaired to the garrison commander. Upon being admitted to the commander’s office he saluted automatically and then his face cracked into a broad smile.

  “Sir! I did not know you were posted here!” Major Babinaux had been Guay’s Company Lieutenant some years before and each had developed a respect for each other’s talent and professionalism. “How long have you been here?”

  “Not long Lieutenant.” Babinaux’s smile was as broad as Guay’s. When last they had met, Guay had only just been promoted to Corporal on Babinaux’s recommendation. The Major came around his desk and shook his hand. “That promotion was long, long, overdue. If I had had my way you would have been promoted again when I got my Captaincy, but it was out of my hands. So tell me, what did you think of young D’Armont?”

  “He was er... efficient!” commented Guay in a mock serious tone. “His salute was precise, his orders clear and his words myriad.” Although his tone was jocular, he made it plain that he had been distinctly unimpressed by the young Lieutenant. “I have seen poor officers before but I don’t think I have ever seen a company on escort duty wishing they were elsewhere.” As escort duty was regarded as one of the easiest duties that a soldier in the Garde du Corps du Roi had to undertake, Babinaux had little difficulty in interpreting this remark.

  “Singular, isn’t he?” Babinaux gave a bark of laughter. “He is very efficient, knows the rule book backwards and he is a complete embarrassment to the Corps. As soon as I can find an excuse to do so, I will send him to a desk job where he cannot do any harm.”

  The senior officer, poured Guay a brandy and his face became serious. “Bad Business that, on the road. Hainaut’s nephew and a gang of cutthroats attacking a group travelling under the King’s protection,” he shook his head. "The Duc D’Angoulême was most unhappy;” Babineaux’s expression showed the magnitude of his understatement, “when he read the express that came in on that. He showed it to me and advanced some...intemperate... remarks. Benoit carefully set out what the English Duke said, that the attack could not have been predicted and that your men were marvellous but even so, if anyone is found to blame; if there were any lapses ...” He left the sentence hanging and winced, “Heads will roll.” He sighed heavily. “You have some despatches for me?” Guay nodded and handed them over. “Do you know what is in them? Again a nod. “You had better sit there until I have read them and then tell me everything you have been instructed to tell me.”

  Two hours later, during which Guay had described, in minute detail everything he knew, and a few things he had guessed, about what had happened in Seltz, at Reims and on the road, Babinaux sighed again.

  “So, as we know that two separate garrisons contained traitors, we have to work on the basis that there may be a larger problem with the King’s Guards than just one disenchanted nobleman and his cronies.” He groaned as the full import of the news became clear, "I will need to review all the men under my command and all of the civilians who work for the Guards to ensure that every one is loyal.” He looked at Guay who had a diffident expression on his face as if he was considering whether to say something. “Come on man, spit it out. If it is worth saying, and with you it nearly always is, then I want to hear it and if it isn’t ...well if it isn’t, we all make mistakes."

  “Well sir,” Guay began slowly, “Hainaut said that all he had to do to replace the two men from my detachment who were sent on that wild goose chase to Soissons, was to pay an official to prepare and seal the orders. So that means there is a dishonest official, and where there is one there is usually more ....”

  “Oh no!” Babinaux, slapped his hand to his head, “it also means that almost any order is now suspect unless given to you in person by the officer that issued it. Any changes, any new personnel which have resulted from those changes must also be suspect. Hainaut managed to divert two men from their assigned duty. In different circumstances when your men presented their orders to him the garrison commander at Soissons would have looked at their orders and just assumed that his copy had gone astray. Our friend also produced orders for two men who weren’t even guards which you accepted without question. I would have done too!” He shook his head at the implications of this realisation, “Mon Dieu!” he whispered almost to himself, “how are we to deal with that?”

  “Sir, almost all of the orders you have received must have been genuine and will be easy to check. As far as the traitors are concerned, we tracked some down at Reims very easily” Guay tried to reassure his superior but he was waved into silence.

  “Yes! Yes! I know all that. “Babinaux said testily. He looked up at Guay uneasily and appeared to make a decision. “Look my friend, as you know so much there is little point in keeping you in the dark, and anyway,” he shrugged “the rumour mill is already working. The truth is the Garde du Corps du Roi is under scrutiny as never before. The Compte D’Artois has been deeply suspicious of us ever since some companies deserted en masse to Napoleon in ’15. He has been saying, privately, that the entire corps may be disbanded when his brother dies and you can imagine how it looks to the Compte as more and more stories come out. It just proves to him that he is right to be concerned.”

  “But! That cannot be right.” Guay was horrified. “The public is behind us, even if he is right, it would be a fatal move to disband us. They would never accept it. In any event almost every corps had some desertions; Ney, took every man with him and ...”

  “Yes. Ney did,” interrupted Babineax. “But he was just a soldier with many men. We guard the King. We are supposed to be the most loyal, the most trustworthy and the most reliable and, as a result, we are allowed the privilege of personal access to the King. Most of the men and all the officers are drawn from the nobility and, subject to the orders we received from his Majesty, we have been allowed to run our own affairs. If we are not safe, then according to the Compte, not only are we incompetent, we have no purpose. But you are right,” he said hopefully, “We enjoy the confidence of the Duc D’Angoulême and he should have some influence over his father. Then too, the new King won’t make any changes immediately, he will want to secure his position first so we may have some time – if he hasn’t already made up his mind.”

  When Guay returned to his billet, it was clear that the normally amiable Lieutenant had a great deal on his mind. After he replied to a friendly joke from one of his men with a staccato “What?” they decided that, at least for that evening, he was better left alone.

  The Duke, on the other hand, enjoyed a much more pleasant evening with the Duc D’Angoulême. Each had been impressed with the other when they had met in Reims, and although the Duke had been too young to fight in 1815, D’Angoulême, still at heart a soldier, had heard how this Englishman acquitted himself on the road and of his loyalty to his friends. Then there was the service he had already rendered the French Crown. He was more than happy to admit the Duke to the society of his intimates. After an exchange of greetings, the Duc said,

  “Both the King and my father have asked me to again apologise on their behalf that you were attacked while travelling in our country and to thank you for averting disaster.”

  “No apology is necessary,” Sale responded, repeating what he had said to Benoit with as much sincerity as he could muster. “What happened was unpredictable, no amount of planning could have prevented it. You would have needed to have sent a whole company out with us and even then,” the Duke shook his head, “I don’t know the outcome would have been any different. It was a well planned and executed ambush. Had Hainaut’s men been trained soldiers instead of a motley group of thieves, foot pads and farm workers the outcome would have been very different. As for averting disaster, we all take the Credit for that but Guay was superb.”

  “It is easy to see you are no politician,” grinned the Du
c. “This is all about perception. If you had been killed then the whole country would – eventually – have known that travellers, guarded by the King’s own guards and thus travelling under the King’s protection had been ambushed and defeated by a group of common thieves. It would be known that those guards and that protection were insufficient to ensure the traveller’s safety. This would not, to put it mildly, leave a good impression or encourage people to have confidence in the government or His Majesty. It would have encouraged other criminals and malcontents to follow Hainaut’s example. As I am sure the very knowledgeable Miss Leighton has told you, given the problems my country has experienced over the last twenty years or so the people want stability and safety. The continued rule of the King and after him, the succession to my father, depends to a very large extent on the confidence the people have in the government. If the people think that the government cannot protect them, then they will look elsewhere for that protection. Due to you, the story that will actually circulate, is that a party of eight King’s Guards assisted by a small number of civilians, not only survived a well laid ambush against overwhelming odds and with only one casualty, but also captured a traitor and assisted in the investigation and arrest of a large number of criminals who had been operating in the area. As I said, you averted a disaster and it is not an understatement that my country is a safer place because of it. In view of the further service you have rendered to his Majesty, the King has instructed me to tell you that instead of the Marquise D’Aussonne – the title conferred upon you but a few weeks ago - you are now the Duc D’Aussonne and that the original land granted to you those few weeks ago has been considerably extended. I am told that the increased grant contains an extremely profitable winery. The papers will be delivered to your Embassy in Paris tomorrow.” Perceiving that Sale was about to protest that no reward was required the Duc D’Angoulême raised his hand. “There is no need to protest my modest friend, it is already done. Now, about the matter we discussed in Reims. I think I have a solution to your problem.”

  The Duke had been on horseback for so long that he had elected to walk back to the Hotel and, as a result, gave no warning of his return. Unlike many of the provincial inns in which they had stayed of late, the Hotel Cailloux was a handsome building, more than large enough to cater for the Duke, his party and still have rooms left for other guests. The Duke had hired the top floor of the Hotel and Liversedge had arranged it that Miss Leighton and the two maids would occupy the rooms to the left of the staircase and the Duke, himself and Francis would occupy the rooms on the right. Opening off the landing such that it could be conveniently accessed by both the gentlemen and the ladies there was a handsomely appointed private dining room and drawing room. In expectation that, by the hour of his return, any sane person would have betook himself to his bed and, with the courtesy and consideration he showed to even the most junior of his servants, he removed his shoes and entered the Drawing room in stockinged feet.

  He was most disconcerted to discover that Francis and Martha were not, as he had anticipated, abed but were sitting side by side on a settee holding hands. Thus discovered, they both leaped to their feet, a comical expression of dismay on both faces. Having stood like naughty children caught in mischief for a few seconds, Martha gave a small cry and, her face in her hands covering her flaming cheeks, ran out of the room leaving Francis to explain himself.

  The Duke surveyed his man with a distinct twinkle in his eyes, as much because, in more than three years, this was the first time he had ever seen Francis remotely off balance as because of what he had seen. Realising that his man was somewhat lost for words and that he would need to start the conversation, he asked bluntly,

  “How long has this been going on? I haven’t seen a thing and I am reasonably certain, neither has Miss Leighton. If she has, then she has never mentioned the matter to me.”

  “Quite a while, Your Grace. We took to each other that first day in Seltz and we were together quite often when you were ill. Things ...well things developed. It has been difficult though. We had to be discrete.”

  “I cannot understand why there was the remotest need for you to display any such discretion. Unless there is something you have yet to tell me, you are both single; indeed, I am very pleased for you and I consider it likely that Miss Leighton will be of exactly the same mind People fall in love every day and both of you are free. Are congratulations in order?”

  “You have no objections Your Grace?” asked Francis warily, knowing his master would give him an honest answer. “I was concerned you might not think the relationship appropriate.”

  “I? Why should I object? If she will make you happy then you have my wholehearted endorsement. Although, if it were me," he added thoughtfully after a moment's pause, "I would contrive to marry the woman of my choice whether my employer thought it a good idea or not. My only reservation is a purely selfish one. Will you be leaving my service? If it helps, your lady will be most welcome in my house? So, Francis, as your master,” The Duke beamed to belie his words, “stop avoiding my question, have you asked Martha to marry you? Did she Accept? Can I come to the wedding? It occurred to the Duke that Francis was not looking as happy as might be expected. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “In a manner of speaking,” Francis replied. “It’s Miss Leighton.”

  “You don’t mean to tell she objects?” the Duke was considerably surprised. Francis shook his head. “Ah, she is in ignorance of the matter too but Martha believes she will object.” He smiled, “Martha will know her mistress better than me but even so I really cannot see Miss Leighton demanding to know if your intentions are honourable. Having said that,” he grinned at the thought, “if she does decide to champion Martha’s honour you will have to be careful, she has some skill with that sword of hers.”

  “Your Grace misunderstands the matter,” Francis was still clearly distracted as he gave the Duke no answering smile. “Martha has told me believes her mistress would be only too happy for her. But she won’t tell Miss Leighton about us and has forbidden me to do so. She says that until she has seen her mistress creditably settled, she cannot even begin to consider the possibility of marriage.”

  “Ah! Martha considers that Miss Leighton should be kept in ignorance of the matter for her own protection. Don’t you think that this is Miss Leighton’s business?”

  “Yes, Your Grace, I do and you may believe I have tried to persuade Martha of the case.” Francis’ normally cheerful face was despondent. “But she won’t hear of it.”

  “Well,” his Grace gave his servant a thoughtful look, “I don’t want to prejudge the issue but it is just possible I may have an answer to your problem. We shall see.”

  Over the next few days the Citizens of Amiens proved every bit as hospitable as their countrymen in Reims. The modiste that had attended Miss Leighton in Reims had, according to the Duke’s instructions, made up a range of day and evening dresses and had sent them on to the Hotel to await their arrival and therefore, for the first time in her life, Sarah had a full wardrobe from which to choose.

  The week they spent in Amiens was, at least from Miss Leighton’s point of view, a whirlwind of gaiety, this time untrammelled by fear. The time spent in Reims had given her enough polish and experience to know what to expect and, free of the worry of making a faux pas she positively sparkled. From the first day to the last they lacked no invitations. The Duke was popular with the men, he was singularly modest and his travelling rendered him most entertaining to talk to. The ladies, thinking him a superior dancer and an attentive escort liked him no less. However, the Duke, for all his talents would have been soon forgotten, it was Miss Leighton who took the town by storm. Her undeniable good looks coupled with indefatigable energy and her intelligent conversation ensured her success. She conversed easily with everyone and could draw out the shyest of men. Some of her partners, hitherto dismissed as poor company, were discovered after ten minutes in Sarah’s company, to have hidden depths. She was eq
ually comfortable with the older men and the ladies who considered her to be well informed but never coming. If asked for her opinion, then she would give it, and it was inevitably a well-reasoned point of view. If she was not asked, then she appeared to be quite happy to fade into the background and listen. Even the young ladies liked her. They saw Sarah’s frank enjoyment was attractive and much less hard work than maintaining an attitude of proper boredom and that it was possible, at the same time, to be modest and maidenly but also to hold opinions. More than one lady, rigorously schooled in the behaviour expected of unmarried ladies was moved to argue, ‘but Mama, Miss Leighton does not do that and I have heard you say how much you admire her.’

  Only two segments of society found fault. The ladies whose beauty and accomplishments, prior to Miss Leighton’s arrival, had placed them as the most sought after in society, were consumed with jealousy at being so abruptly and comprehensively relegated into second place. Then there were some gentlemen who considered themselves as having superior understanding but in comparison to Miss Leighton merely looked prosy and ill informed. Both groups loudly and publicly labelled her as fast, too small and insipid. Neither group was attended to in the smallest way.

  On the last day before they left for Le Havre they were due to attend a ball as the guests of the Duc D’Angoulême. Miss Leighton was surprised when Sale told her that they had been granted the signal honour of an invitation to dine privately with His Highness beforehand.

  Dinner passed off uneventfully, the Duc and Miss Leighton discussing politics and Sale contributing when he thought he had something to say. After the covers had been removed. D’Angoulême asked Miss Leighton,

  “I wish you will follow me into the next room, I have someone I should like you to meet.”

  Not unnaturally, she was somewhat curious at this unusual request especially since it was clear from his expression that Sale has some idea of what to expect. But, receiving no hints from the gentlemen Sarah willingly followed the Duc through the door into the drawing room. The room was empty except for a very elderly man who Miss Leighton was perfectly sure she had never previously met. Nonetheless, he appeared to know her because, upon the party entering the room the occupant struggled, not without some difficulty, to his feet casting, at the same time a look of such anxiety in Sarah’s direction that it almost caused her to stop on the threshold. Seeing the elderly gentleman’s difficulty, Sale strode across to rest his hand on the gentleman’s shoulder.

  “No Mon Père, please stay seated. You should not tax yourself.” Sarah stared at the man for it seemed to her that there was something about him that was vaguely familiar, and then she noticed that a large tear was rolling down his face and she pulled a handkerchief from her reticule. “Sir please do not distress yourself,” she said as she offered him the handkerchief. “Whatever it is that is the matter, can be mended.” She saw that he was of medium build and although his face now bore the lines of age she could see that in his youth he would have been a very handsome man. He was extremely well dressed, although not in the most fashionable mode, but he had a good tailor, his coat was well cut and the cloth used was fine and rich. He carried a cane with a cunningly wrought silver handle, he wore a large gold signet ring and his Cravat, simply tied was secured by a pearl pin. He was neat but not affected and well-dressed but unobtrusively so. She thought that, while he was currently obviously anxious, this was a man who normally smiled easily and often. She was inexplicably drawn to him.

  “It is a very old wrong,” said the elderly gentleman still staring searchingly at her. That he was English was clear from his accent but it seemed as if he struggled to find the words. Miss Leighton thought that he must have lived in France for a very long time. “There are some wrongs,” the elderly gentleman continued, “that cannot be put right no matter how much one might want to do so, and one cannot of course repair the past, but” a small smile showed on his face “on this occasion we might be able to mend the future.” He patted the chair by his side. “Sit down my dear, we have much to discuss, but first I apprehend His Highness has something for you.”

  “Indeed, I do.” The Duc D’Angoulême reached into his pocket and withdrew a letter. With a slight bow, he offered it to Sarah. She gave him a questioning look but was simply told “take it, it is yours.”

  She recognised her uncle’s handwriting immediately and although she was not expecting a letter from him she could not imagine that any letter could not be so out of the ordinary or urgent as to require delivery by the second in line to the French throne. Mystified, she broke the seal.

  My Dearest Niece,

  The Duc D’Angoulême has asked me to write this letter to assure you that what he is about to tell you is the truth. You may rely upon it. The account will be supported by the Ambassador to the court of His Majesty King Louis XVIII, by the foreign secretary and by His Majesty King George IV himself. As for those of my friends who are aware of your existence His Majesty King George has arranged for them to be spoken to privately. You may be assured of their discretion.

  Your life has not been that which I, or indeed my elder brother, your father, would have chosen for you but by the time I had succeeded to your grandfather’s estate the deed had already been done. I lacked the power or, perhaps the imagination to set matters right. I hope your life from now on is immeasurably better than it has been to date.

  Your uncle

  Etc

  Miss Leighton, looked up at the two gentlemen, deep concern showing in her face.

  “This letter appears to be saying goodbye. Why should he do that? Am I not going home?”

  “In a manner of speaking he was saying goodbye,” responded the Duke evasively, “although you will still see him on a regular basis and you will be going home.” Sale stared pensively into a candle flame for a moment and then continued, “I had given considerable thought to the most appropriate way of explaining matters to you but now we are here all my fine words have gone out of my head. What it comes down to is this; you do not, in future, have to live in seclusion.” At once he could see by her expression that a whole series of questions had flickered through her mind and he continued hurriedly. “We will answer all your questions soon, but perhaps the place to start would be to introduce you to the gentleman sitting next to you. Miss Sarah Leighton, may I have the pleasure of introducing the Honourable Rupert Leighton.”

  “Rupert Leighton.” Sarah’s expressive eyebrows snapped together in concentration at the introduction, as if trying to recall a distant memory. “I have heard the name before somewhere.” After a few seconds her expression cleared as she turned to the elderly man, “I believe Sir, that you are my Great Uncle.” The Gentleman had watched the expressions flit across Sarah’s face and he chuckled.

  “Both His Highness and his Grace had told me that you are considered extremely acute. I see they did not report falsely. Yes,” he nodded, “I am your Great Uncle Rupert and therefore your Grandfather’s younger brother. May I say,” he added with a charm and sincerity which endeared him to her immediately, “it is a great pleasure to meet you, more especially since, until a few days ago I did not even know you existed.”

  “Well I am very pleased to meet you,” Sarah said frankly, “and I shall take good care that having found you, I do not lose contact but,” she leant back and shot a penetrating look at the Duke, “I apprehend that Great Uncle Rupert’s appearance and that very odd letter you gave me are not unconnected. You perceive me agog with curiosity.” This drew a loud laugh from her new relative.

  “My mother would have liked you very much.” He commented approvingly, “I apprehend however that it falls to me to tell you a small part of the history of your family of which you may not be aware.” He looked at her with an expression that clearly demonstrated that however frail his body might be his mind was still keen. “You knew, did you not that my brother and I quarrelled upon the death of our mother.” When she nodded he explained, “there was never any brotherly feeling between Arth
ur and I. Candidly, we detested each other. As I could tolerate my brother so little, I was rarely at home, spending most of my time with friends or my Mother’s relatives. In fairness to my brother, I was very expensive, having rather too great an addition to the faro table and to horse racing. There were also a few minor scandals from which it cost our father a considerable amount of money to extract me. As my brother did not gamble at all and appeared to regard women as little more than an expensive necessity to secure the succession, you can imagine that my lifestyle grated upon him mightily. Knowing it of course, merely drove me to greater excess. I delighted in irritating him. I saw him as a joyless, uncaring individual whose only interest was the acquisition and retention of money and the consequence which he believed came with it and he saw me as a wastrel. We were, looking back on it, probably both right. There was wrong on both sides. I returned home when I learned our mother was seriously ill and two days later she died. Arthur had, due to my father’s advancing years, been taking more and more of the responsibility for running the estate and as a result had discovered how much it was costing my father to fund my lifestyle. He knew that, while she was alive, my mother would have never allowed my brother or my father to rein me in and it no doubt rankled somewhat that even though he was the eldest, she lavished most of her love on me. Again, looking back, if he was jealous, he was justified. I was very, very, spoiled. He waited until after my mother’s funeral and then told me that he was no longer prepared to fund my wasteful habits, I could either return to the estate and assist him in its management, find gainful employment, or take the small sum he was prepared to offer me by way of severance and walk away. Furious, I took the money he offered and told him exactly what I thought of him. Fuelled by my righteous anger I left the country, anxious to put as much distance between us as I possibly could. It was a grand gesture, but not very sensible, and in retrospect merely served to show how much of a boy I still was. My money was soon exhausted, I had no idea how to practice economy and even if I had, I think I was still too angry to even consider the consequences of my own foolishness. In the end, I found myself destitute in the Loire Valley where, most reluctantly I might add, I found work in a vineyard. To my surprise I enjoyed the work so much that I stayed and, after a few years, found myself as the vineyard manager. By now I had outgrown the extravagance of my youth and I now understood the value of money. I saved every penny I had. When the owner died, his son having no interest in it, I bought the property. Since then I have steadily built up a sizable estate. My brother therefore did me a great favour when he cast me out. It was the making of me. I married, somewhat late in life to a lovely lady, the daughter of a local Barronne. We are very happy, but we have no children. I have never, since I left England gone into society,” his face assumed a somewhat wistful expression, “I imagine the world has forgotten I even exist.”

  “The world may have forgotten Sir, but my uncle has not.” Sarah was quick to reassure him. “He has told me many times of your many kindnesses to him when he was a small boy. He described his own father as distant and uncaring and your visits to Borden House are among his happiest memories. I do not remember my father, but my uncle has told me how the three of you would, in late September sneak into the Orchards at Sale Park. There was, apparently a particular pear tree...?

  “Yes, by Jove, there was,” the elderly gentleman’s voice became animated, “you could climb up an old beech tree outside the orchard and step onto the wall. The pear tree over-hung the wall from the inside and so from the top of the wall you could help yourself to the sweetest pears in the county. I wonder if it is still there?”

  “It is Sir, or at least it was when I left England three years ago.” The Duke’s lips twitched, “and you are right, they are the sweetest pears in the county. But I beg if you come to Sale Park again you will not try to climb the orchard wall.”

  “There is no chance of that Your Grace, these days I should have difficulty walking through the gate.” The older man laughed uproariously at the thought. The smile faded. “His Grace,” he indicated the Duke, “has told me a little of your history and it appears that Arthur and his son shared as little affection as did Arthur and I. He appears to have treated you and your brother,” he patted Sarah’s hand, “with a callousness I would not have believed.”

  “I was only seven when my Grandfather died and my brother five.” Sarah chose her words carefully so not to distress further this engaging old man. “It appeared to me that he was not deliberately callous, merely that he had a fixed notion of how things should be. His son should have married someone from his own world and should, before even discussing it with my mother, have sought his approval for the union. That he did neither, affronted my Grandfather’s notion of filial Duty. He would have never even considered marrying to disoblige his father...”

  “Whereas I would never have considered marrying to oblige anyone but myself,” interrupted her great uncle. “My dear, please don’t dress it up in clean linen for me. I may be old but I can still deal with life’s slings and arrows. Because Arthur was angry with his own son he dissolved the marriage, cast out your mother, placed you and your brother in an impossible position, and ensured your uncle succeeded to the title. Rather than face the reality that he could not control everything, he was ready to cut off his nose to spite his face. If I understand matters correctly, the estate will pass, on your uncle’s death, to an obscure cousin descended from my grandfather’s youngest brother.”

  “He was perhaps a little rash in what he did,” Sarah found herself in the unusual position of defending her Grandfather, “and although he made sure my brother and I were well educated I do not think he ever really accepted us. He was not happy to see my uncle succeed to the title, I am told he took my Father’s death very hard. I think he still had hopes he could be creditably established in the world and provide an heir that he could recognise. I remember him all but ordering my uncle to marry and when my uncle refused .... well…. Borden was not a happy place to be for some weeks. It is all very well to say that it is the bed he made and it was for him to lie upon it but it was never a comfortable bed and I never saw him happy. The punishment meted out to him for what he did to us, was visited back upon him in substantial measure.” Sarah paused at this point and looked shrewdly around the room. “While this discussion of my family history is of course most illuminating, I apprehend that that I am yet to be told why my Great uncle is here at all? Why he is here now? And whatever has to do with me? This letter,” she picked it up and waved it gently to and fro, “I have received from my uncle is of a singular, not to say cryptic, nature and if someone,” she looked pointedly at the Duke, “does not explain precisely what is happening here, I might have to resort to violence.”

  “My dear,” said her Great uncle, forestalling the Duke and looking at Sarah with a broad smile, “I have also been informed that, in addition to your intelligence, patience is not a virtue which you can command easily. I see that this also is true.”

  “I cannot imagine why,” Sarah riposted primly, “anyone would say such a thing. Now please, please! Will someone tell me what is going on?

  “A little over a week ago,” Rupert explained, “a messenger from no less a person than his Majesty, the King of France, rode up to my house and enquired as to whether I was the brother of a deceased English gentleman known as Viscount Borden. You can only imagine my surprise, I had been living there openly for nearly forty years and no-one had ever noticed me before. I have no idea how they found me.”

  “I can tell you that,” interjected D’Angoulême. I asked at court if anyone knew of an Englishman called Leighton living in France. My friend the Compte De Varrains said that he knew of such a man who owned a large Vineyard near Saumur. Apparently elderly and somewhat reclusive, he had been living there for as long as any could remember and his preserves were highly thought of. There could not be two such men in the whole of France.”

  “I am grateful to have the mystery solved. That I could be
found merely by asking had not occurred to me,” the elderly man remarked with some irony. He turned back to Sarah. “The messenger gave me a letter from his Highness the Duc D’Angoulême.” He bowed to the Duc. This letter in turn enclosed a letter from the Duke of Sale which asked me if I might, in view of the many years of friendship between the houses of Ware and Leighton be prepared to perform some slight service for them on behalf of a lady who they told me was my Great Niece. As it had not occurred to me that I had any living close relatives, much less one who might require my assistance, I naturally told the messenger that I would come with him at once.”

  “That you should have been persuaded to travel all of that way in a hurry on my account.” Sarah was outraged and turned reproachful eyes on the Duke, “well shame on you Sir.” The Duke would have defended himself but Sarah’s uncle prevented him.

  “I may be old” he admonished Sarah, “and I may not be as robust as I was, but I am perfectly capable of travelling a couple of hundred miles.” The Duke smiled to himself as he recognised, in the old man, Miss Leighton’s spirit and sense of purpose. “Had the request not been made I would have demanded to come in any event so I will thank you, young lady, if you do not attempt to make decisions on my behalf. As my transport was provided by the King I travelled in style and great comfort and could have made twice the distance. Upon my arrival in Paris I was received by the Duc D’Angoulême, a courtesy I had not expected especially as I had never visited court. His Highness explained your unhappy situation to me and informed me that France is under a not inconsiderable obligation to you. I would have been more than happy to have offered you my protection but His Highness had explained to me that he and the Duke of Sale had formed a plan to establish you creditably and asked if I could help. Naturally I was more than happy to assist if I could, and as a result you became and are now, at least as far the world is concerned, my daughter.”

  For once Sarah was completely nonplussed. She looked from one of the men to the other and then back again, and apart from the fact they were all smiling at her broadly she was no more the wiser.

  “I may,” she began in the tone of one tested to her limit, “regret asking; you are plainly enjoying a joke at my expense, but for the sake of clarity why, and how, am I to become the daughter of someone I met not ten minutes ago and who left England twenty years before I was born?

  “Oh, that will present no difficulty whatsoever,” the Duke answered blandly, “we introduce you as the Honourable Rupert’s daughter. Why? Because as the daughter of a respectable member of a respectable family you will, subject of course to the restrictions normally placed upon any young and unmarried female, be able to go where you want.”

  “But ...but this is nonsense”, Sarah stammered in bewilderment. “How do we rewrite history? How ...” She came to a halt as the Duke came across and held her hands staring at her intently with an expression she could not read but which left her slightly out of breath.”

  “Think about it.” he said, “I mean really think about it.”

  So, Sarah sat down and thought about it for some minutes while the three men watched with interest. Watching someone think would not normally have interested any of them, but on this occasion the expressions which crossed her face as she considered how her life would change if she became the daughter of a respectably married couple, afforded them considerable entertainment. One moment her brow would be furrowed as if she was in deep thought and the next, as she worked out a particular conundrum her face would clear. Her agile mind was also working through the difficulties in constructing an entirely fictitious history for herself. Having the bare bones was, however enough, she could fill in the gaps for herself. Then, without any warning, she looked up and started speaking.

  “My father married late in life to a younger woman. I presume Madame Leighton is younger than you Sir?” she asked. Upon receiving a nod from her great uncle, she continued, “this explains why my ‘father’ is so much older than me. He is an eccentric who lives a reclusive existence and receives no visitors from the nobility and my existence has thus, until recently, been unknown. As a result of my entreaties and possibly persuasion by my mother, my father has finally accepted that I would need to go into society. How else, my mother demanded, could her daughter expect to find a suitable husband? My father therefore contacted his nephew, an English Viscount who told him that, as he would soon be coming to France to assist the Foreign Secretary in discussions with His Majesty King Louis XVIII he would be only too happy to promote my interests and ensure I was admitted to the best circles in both Paris and London. My mother would of course accompany me to ensure the proprieties were observed and that I was adequately chaperoned. I call the Viscount ‘uncle’ as a courtesy even though in truth we are cousins; with such an age difference, it would be natural for me to call him ‘uncle’ even if he could not in fact lay claim to the title. Unfortunately, while I was living under my English uncle’s protection, but before my Debut had taken place, my uncle was required, by the Foreign Secretary to accompany the Ambassador to Alsace where something happened which meant that the planned debut in Paris had to be cancelled. This was an unanticipated difficulty which took up a great deal of my uncle’s time. I was naturally devastated. I should ordinarily have come out three or four years ago and it now seemed as if my debut would have to be delayed even further. I was convinced that by the time I was finally be presented I would already be an ape leader. Co-incidentally there was, travelling through Alsace at the time, an English Duke whose land bordered onto the Viscount’s acres and who thus had known the Viscount all his life. This Duke had explained that after a long sojourn abroad, he had formed the intention of returning home and my uncle proposed that I should travel to England under the Duke of Sale’s protection where I could be launched into the ton in the forthcoming London season. My uncle sought approval to this variation to the original plan from my father and, having secured it, I was delivered into the protection of the Duke impeccably chaperoned by my maid. The Duke had been invited to a series of entertainments in Reims and Amiens on the way home and my uncle thought that this would give me a good opportunity to acquire some experience and “town bronze” in advance. It had been arranged that my mother would meet me in Reims but unfortunately my elderly father fell ill and she felt that she could not leave his side. What to do? I had no chaperon. News of the setback reached my uncle in Paris who begged the Duc D’Angoulême to intervene. He was concerned, particularly because my elderly father should have arranged my come out three years ago and, if my father were to die, it would be at least another year before I could come out of mourning by which time the prospects of me contracting a suitable marriage might well be slim. The Duc D’Angoulême rising nobly to the occasion singled me out at the first ball I attended thus making it impossible for anyone to query the propriety of what had happened. The Duc, whose dislike of court is well known, but no doubt constrained by a debt long owed to his friend Viscount Borden, performed the same service to me in Amiens. From Amiens, I shall return to England where, in the weeks before the season commences I shall make a little noise and so when I make my debut no-one will be surprised at my appearance. There will be vaguely remembered stories about a second son of a previous Viscount that went to live in France. No one will consider it remotely out of the ordinary way that, now his daughter is of marriageable age, he wishes to secure an eligible husband for her before he is gathered to his fathers. I am unclear as to whether my parents will in fact travel to England or whether a suitable female, perhaps Martha, will be found to lend me countenance. Some rumours may surface about an illegitimate daughter of someone or other, who has lived at Borden House all her life but as the stranger is attended by a maid who is clearly very French and is devoted to her mistress they clearly cannot be the same person. This will be supported by the Viscount’s friends confirming in public that they have never seen Miss Sarah Leighton before and did not even know of her existence and by the Duke of Sale, an unimpeachable so
urce, confirming that he conveyed her, at the Viscount’s request all the way from Alsace. As to why the story is important, it contains enough verifiable truth in it to make it plausible and it allows me to go into society with my head held high.” Sarah paused and looked smugly at the awestruck expression on the faces of the three men. “Have I missed anything?”

  “Mon Dieu!” breathed D’Angoulême in frank admiration. “It took us days to work out that story and even then we missed some really obvious points. When I become King,” he added, not without some sincerity, “I hope that you might consider becoming part of my court; I do not think I number amongst my advisors any as quick as you.” He shook his head and bowed deeply. “Madam, I make you my compliments. There is however, one further matter that I need to discuss with you. I should perhaps tell you that you are now a considerable heiress. Your father, having no other child has invested a considerable sum on your behalf in French funds which will bring in an income of about three thousand pounds a year.” You cannot of course obtain the money directly until you marry or come of age, but your father will no doubt provide you with such pin money as you may need.” At her shocked look he added. “Within these walls, this is a gift from the people of France in recognition of the service you have rendered to my country and in apology for the repeated threats to your person and honour which you have suffered as a result. It is given with my thanks and those of my father and my uncle His Majesty the King.”

  “I make you my compliments, Your Highness.” The Duke stood watching Sarah as she sat, open mouthed, unable to think of anything suitable to the occasion, “I have never yet had the privilege of seeing Miss Leighton deprived of speech. It was a feat I would have paid to watch.”

  Before she had the opportunity to respond to the Duke’s teasing and still reeling from the knowledge that she was a now a relatively wealthy woman her great uncle further added to her confusion.

  “The problem of what to do with my estate has been exercising my mind for some time. My wife is, apart from a few distant cousins who barely recall her existence, the last of her line. When I met your uncle in Paris ....

  “You met my uncle? When?” Sarah interrupted

  “You really must learn patience my dear.” The Honourable Rupert advised with a laugh. “Yes, I met him in Paris but a few days ago. He may be your uncle but he is my nephew and I wanted very much to see him. He remembered me very well and I have to say I received a much warmer greeting from him than I expected and probably,” he added self-deprecatingly, “warmer than I deserved. I had always seen myself as the black sheep and I was most disconcerted, after all this time, to discover that, apart from in my late unlamented brother’s eyes, I was never any such thing.” He sighed, “if I had only known that twenty years ago.” His eyes assumed a faraway look as he contemplated what might have been. Returning to the present he added, “You should be aware, as he says in his letter, that your uncle is fully aware of, and supports, this scheme and I have to say that, at the knowledge that you might, at last, be able to take what he has always considered as your rightful place in the world he was quite overcome. He sends you his love.” He patted Sarah’s hand again. “But, you have side-tracked me. Ah yes, my estate. In addition to the income from His Majesty, upon my death you will inherit my estate subject only to the jointure left to my wife which, upon her death will be settled upon your daughters and if you have none, then to you.”

  At this the very composed Miss Leighton burst into tears and it was some considerable time before she could discipline herself sufficiently to speak.

  “Thank you all so much.” She began, but she got no further as she was overtaken by a further bout of sobs. After a further delay during which she ineffectually dabbed at her face she looked up smiling through her tears. “I’m so sorry, this is absurd, one shouldn’t cry at such times. I assure you mon Pere” she said recognising the relationship for the first time, “I am not usually so foolish.” At this she stood unsteadily and walked to stand before the Duc D’Angoulême, “Your highness, I thank you for taking so much trouble on my behalf. I shall never forget what you have done and, if there is ever anything I can do in return, please ask.” She sank into a deep curtsey. “It is not really for me to comment but, in my humble opinion, I think you will be a wonderful King.” She rose and went to stand before her Great Uncle, “Sir, I hope we have many years to become acquainted and, if you feel able to make the journey, I am sure my uncle and I would love to see you at Borden house”

  “Your uncle had already invited me and I am already making plans to go home.” The old man was plainly overcome at the knowledge that, at the precise time when her future changed for the better, one of her first thoughts was for him. “You know” he said reflectively, “I have lived in France for most of my life but I still call Borden Home.” He brightened and the smile returned, “and in any event, I must be in London for your presentation.”

  “Oh please, please, do come Sir” she begged, for once betraying her youth. “I should feel so much more comfortable if you could contrive to be there with me.”

  “You appear to be so comfortable with royalty,” D’Angoulême remarked deprecatingly indicating himself, “that I would have thought formal presentation to King George would almost past unnoticed.”

  “Oh no Your Highness.” Sarah breathed not realising she was being gently roasted. “Whoever would have thought that I would ever be formally presented to the King?”

  At this point she turned to the Duke who had been observing Sarah appreciatively. The shocks of the night meant that for once she forgot to keep the feelings she had kept hidden for so from her face. Her new father saw at once the position.

  “Well,” he thought, “so sits the winds in that quarter eh? It’s a good match and my nevvy has little but good to say about the man.” He looked carefully at the Duke and thought he saw an answer in his face. “His Grace is being careful. I agree, and think the better of him for it. He cannot declare himself until she is out of his protection. It’s a pity he is a widower though. I will need to speak to Borden.”

  “Your Grace,” Sarah’s voice recalled Rupert from his reverie, “you have always treated me with courtesy but you did not have any obligation to me. I do not know why you should have put yourself out so, but I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  “You were a victim of injustice,” the Duke replied simply, “I have a passion for justice, but in any case, I did but little. His Highness has exerted himself more than I.”

  “And a passion for my great niece” thought Rupert, but he kept this to himself.

  The evening held one more shock for a young lady whose life had been turned upside down in less than half an hour. When Miss Leighton had composed herself and the three gentlemen had proposed a toast to her, Sarah turned to her new father and demanded saucily,

  “And when, Mon Père, do I meet my new Maman?

  “Why now, of course.” Rupert replied as if surprised at the question. “You will need her to chaperone you to the Ball. “At that moment, the faint sounds of the orchestra striking up filtered through to the room. “Unless I am gravely mistaken the ball has already started and we are now late. She would never have remained alone on my estate at such a time and has been wanting to meet you ever since I received the Duke of Sale’s letter. I would have had her with me but she was unsure of her welcome and is waiting outside.

  “Oh no! Poor Lady. Left outside to twiddle her thumbs please fetch her.” The request came too late; Sale was already ushering a stout middle-aged lady with an enchanting smile into the room. Within seconds the two ladies were holding hands and in excited conversation conducted in a bewildering mixture of English and French. The gentlemen were quickly forgotten and Rupert, seeing that this could go on for some time, suggested that they should leave the new mother and daughter alone for a while. Completely un-noticed they slipped from the room.

  The Duke would, based on his previous experience of the fair sex, have laid a handsome
sum on the suggestion that it would be a while before the ladies appeared. Once again Miss Leighton confounded him. He barely had time to reassure two young men that ‘la petite Anglaise’ would make her appearance in a while as she had only just been reunited with her mother, when the two ladies walked into the room. No-one, marvelled the Duke as he looked at them entering the room arm in arm and chattering away comfortably to each other, would have ever suspected the elder lady had only become mother to the younger, fifteen minutes previously.

  The ball was an unqualified success. So many people complimented Madame Leighton on her beautiful and talented daughter that she was quite overcome. She soon discovered how popular Sarah was; the young men wanted to dance with her as she was an excellent dancer and amusing to talk to, she affected no airs and was neither too shy nor coming. The ladies liked her too as she was modish without being ostentatious and was always ready to discuss fashion or the latest on dit. Those same ladies naturally did not suspect that she was bent on learning as much as she could about fashionable society and had discovered that gossip was an excellent source of information. Madame Leighton was, as she explained to her husband later on, much amused to hear how much her daughter resembled her and a number of young men, desperate to be presented went as far as to assert that the younger lady had clearly acquired her beauty, superior understanding, manners and joix de vivre from the elder.

  The explanation given for Madame Leighton’s previous inability to bring out her daughter was accepted without question. Her husband was clearly very old and although he did not currently appear to be ill, it was clear he was frail and moved slowly and with some difficulty. A few comments dropped in appropriate ears by the Duc D’Angoulême to the effect that the elderly man was a little reclusive but he was the uncle of the Viscount Borden who was currently assisting the British Ambassador at Versailles, put an end to any possible speculation.

  After the ball Miss Leighton was disconcerted to discover that Monsieur and Madame Leighton were to take up residence with the rest of the Duke’s party at the Hotel Cailloux.

  “But ma fille” pointed out Madame “where else would we stay but with our daughter? This was so unanswerable that Sarah raised no further comment.

  The Duke had warned Sarah in a whisper that while they were out Francis had briefed the rest of the party as to the change in her status. Monsieur’s man and Madame’s maid were already installed in the Hotel but not even by a flicker did Liversedge betray that anything out of the ordinary had occurred during the evening. The only potential difficulty was averted by Madame’s tact. Upon being introduced to Madame, Martha dropped a very precise curtsey but it was plain that she was having some difficulty dealing with the possibility that Madame might interfere.

  “Martha,” said Madame gently, “you do not have to be jealous of me. You have stood as mother to Sarah since she was a baby, is this something you think she will forget.”

  “Madame,” Martha dropped another curtsey, “I am sorry for being a little stiff. I was wrong and you are right, Miss Sarah would never forget anyone who did her a service.”

  The party departed on the final leg of their journey for Le Havre on the following day without Monsieur Leighton, who had left for his estates promising to follow his wife and ‘daughter’ to England by no later than the middle of May. As the Duke had already written to Scriven to tell him that his return to England would be delayed by three weeks or so, Sarah consoled herself with the thought that, although she already missed him, she would be reunited with the endearing old man in about eight weeks. Madame was remaining with the party and would return to England with her daughter. As the intention was to put the information about that the present Viscount’s uncle had reappeared and had the intention of ensuring his daughter received a proper reception by the ton it was imperative that the hitherto unknown daughter of the house of Borden should be seen to be properly chaperoned at all times.

  The Duke took the opportunity in a moment of calm during the packing to ask Sarah how she felt about being chaperoned. Expecting to be told that she regarded it somewhat in the light of a necessary evil, he was once again surprised by her considered reply.

  “I do not need a chaperon.” Miss Leighton asserted. “On the two occasions thus far when my honour has been at risk, it is hard to see how Maman (she had easily adopted the term the previous night and from then on never referred to her as anything else) could have prevented my dishonour. I have also managed very well at the functions I have attended without Maman although I would have, I think, been far less scared attending the reception at Reims if she had been there with me. I can see however that, whether I need a chaperon, I must be chaperoned and I do not see why so many ladies object to it. From what I have seen so far, I think I shall like it. Maman is excellent company, and has already pointed out one of two things that I have done without thinking that might attract unwelcome attention from a critical audience. Even if I did object there is little point in bemoaning something that is. If there is one thing a knowledge of politics tells you it is that one must accept and deal with what life is and not what one might wish life to be.” After a moment’s thought she added with a smile, “I hardly think that Maman will rule me with a rod of iron and she cannot restrict my life more than that which it has been restricted thus far. For me at least, Chaperonage will amount to freedom.”

  The Duke wondered if he would ever be able to predict Miss Leighton’s response to a question. Her attitude to the necessity of having a chaperon in London, was reasonable and well thought out and so wholly different from every other young lady he had previously met that he was once again wrong footed. The normal rules apparently did not apply to Sarah Leighton. Occasionally, such as when she was begging her Uncle to come to London, she appeared much younger than her twenty-one years but minutes later she demonstrated the wisdom of a sage. She could demolish an unsupportable argument with a few well-chosen words but do it with such tact that no offence could be taken. In some areas, she had acquired knowledge of which a man twice her age would have been proud, yet she was still curiously innocent and trusting.

  There were two changes in the party that left Amiens on the last part of the journey to Le Havre. The first change was that the number of persons in the party had increased by the addition of Madame Leighton and her maid. The second change was that Lieutenant Guay had again been promoted. He was now Captain Guay. Major Babinaux, already predisposed to regard Guay as an excellent soldier and loyal member of the King’s guard, had been impressed by his analysis of the range of security issues facing the Corps. The minor official at Soissons had been arrested and brought to Amiens for questioning. This man had been genuinely surprised that this was an issue and frankly informed Guay and Babinaux that he had been accepting small amounts of money to execute documents for years. He knew of at least five other such officials who did the same and, as far as he was concerned, it had been unofficially, and even occasionally officially, tolerated. When told of the consequences of his preparation of the false documents, his horror was clearly genuine. It was clear he had no idea of the possible consequences of his actions. He was of course dismissed from the service, but as the Soissons garrison commanding officer admitted he knew of the practice and asserted that he had regarded him as an excellent official it was hard to argue that he should face serious punishment.

  When a hurriedly called meeting of all the local garrison commanders revealed that there were several who had adopted much the same approach the scope of the problem became clear. Guay had spent every waking hour while the party was settled at Amiens proposing new security procedures and following leads which might, and often did, lead to the discovery of traitors in the Garde Du Corps Du Roi. By the date Guay departed with the Duke to Le Havre, word was circulating that if you were not in full accord with the values of the Corps you were likely to be roused in the middle of the night with a fixed bayonet uncomfortably close to your nose and some difficult questions to answer. As a result, there had been
a sharp jump in Guardsmen deserting their post or not returning from furlough. This was an extremely rare occurrence in the King’s Guards and it told its own story. One such desertion which caused no sadness at all, was that of Lieutenant D’Amont. He would have to be found of course and brought to justice, but his erstwhile Commanding officer admitted, without any remorse, that he was glad to see the back of him.

  The Major had tried to persuade Guay to remain with him at Amiens. He wanted to add such an intelligent, committed and trustworthy officer to his own staff. Guay thanked him for the compliment but explained that he was not really a desk officer, he much preferred to see the world from the back of his horse, and begged to be permitted to continue his escort duty. He naturally did not mention that the lady he intended to marry travelled with the Duke. Babinaux knew, however good a staff officer he might be if the inclination took him, that Guay would never be happy soldiering from a desk for an extended period and reluctantly gave him his marching orders together with those for the small cadre of guards that had accompanied him from Seltz. The rest of the company that had been attached to the party since the ambush were ordered to return to Benoit in Rheims. These orders were placed in his hand, by Babinaux, a broad smile on his face together with the notice that in recognition of his further services to the Guards he had again been promoted.

  The Duke estimated that the final part of the Journey, a mere one hundred and ten miles, or so would take them no longer than three or four days. Had he been of a mind to hurry it could have been done easily in two days. The roads in this part of France were better surfaced, wider and far more frequently travelled than had been the case to date. The carriages could travel more quickly without causing undue discomfort to the passengers and the higher speed could be maintained for longer without causing stress to the horses.

  As they moved closer to the coast they met more and more English travellers. On the second day, they were hailed by no less than three people each claiming to know the Duke and all of them fully aware that he had been living in Strasbourg. Lord Chepstow had done his work well. He responded with proper civility but, after they had passed on, he admitted that he had had only the dimmest recollection of two of the travellers and in the case of the third, no recollection at all.

  On the third day out of Amiens, the weather, which, given the season, had been unusually kind through most of the journey, broke with a vengeance. Until that point they had made such good time that the Duke had the intention of pressing on to Le Havre and completing the journey that day, but a series of torrential thunderstorms turned the roads into rivers. The coachmen, the guards and the Duke himself all had excellent foul weather clothing but by three o’clock in the evening they were all soaked to the skin. The final straw occurred when a very loud thunderclap startled the horses of the carriage carrying Miss Leighton and Madame and very nearly overset it before the coachman could regain control. The Duke, realising that there was now little point in continuing, decided to stop at Yvetot some 30 miles from Le Havre with the intention, rain permitting, of completing the journey on the morrow.

  It was evident that, despite its proximity to the coast, the inn in the little town was not used to accommodating large parties of guests at short notice and they had insufficient rooms to cater for the whole party. The Guards had therefore to be billeted in an even smaller inn not far away, an arrangement which met with their approval because it meant that they could escape the attention of Guay for a few hours. By seven o’clock the rain had abated somewhat and, as the Carriages had been unloaded and the horses safely stabled, Francis confirmed with the Duke that he would not be required that evening and betook himself off to the inn whereat the guards were billeted to enjoy a tankard of French ale and good conversation with men of his own milieu.

  The following morning, the sun was once again shining although there were puddles everywhere bearing silent testimony to the ferocity of the rain the previous day. The roads were however passable and the party rose early, anxious to complete the remainder of the journey in good time. Once they were again on the road, Francis contrived to draw the Duke and Guay to the rear of the party. This was not in itself unusual as the three men, despite their different stations in life, often rode together but when Guay announced he would ride on up to the front Francis flashed him a speaking look and shook his head indicating in no uncertain manner he should remain where he was. Without making it obvious that this was deliberate they dropped about twenty yards behind the baggage cart, which, as it was neither well sprung not particularly well made, clattered and creaked at the smallest bump in the road. There was not the smallest chance of them being overheard.

  “I heard something last night that I think you ought to know about,” Francis said softly looking in the Duke’s direction but making it clear with his eyes that he was addressing the Frenchman. “I think you may have larger problems than you know. You know I was Jules and Pierre last night?” Guay nodded imperceptibly, “we always talk in English so that the locals leave us alone. There was a group of four men in the tap room who waved us over to join them. It would have been rude to refuse the invitation and anyway they told us they were off duty guards of the Garde du Corps du Roi stationed at le Havre and they had seen the uniforms as we arrived. Anyway, after an hour or so Jules and Pierre excused themselves and went to bed. I stayed to finish my drink and our Le Havre companions started talking amongst themselves in French. I suppose because we had been speaking English they supposed I could not speak or understand the language. I didn’t deliberately listen in but then one of them wondered if ‘the Englishman’s friends’ would be sympathetic. As you can imagine I pricked my ears up. One of their number said he thought Jules was a ‘possibility’ but not the other one. I was a bit confused at first because they kept on about how many Guards were on their side in various places. You may be interested to know that in their view the Paris garrison is totally loyal and there is no use them looking for support there. I thought they were all republicans but they all kept talking about the ‘new King. It took a while to figure it out but they appear to think that if the Compte D’Artois succeeds King Louis he should speedily be deposed and replaced with someone called Louis Phillipe. They did not say who he is but I presume the name means something to you.” Again, Guay nodded and Francis continued. “You know what else? They are very upset at D’Armont’s discovery. Apparently, he is a leader of the local group supporting Louis Phillipe. One of them said that it came to something when a ‘patriot’ like D’Armont had to run for his life while a ‘puppet’ like Babniaux told good men what to do. I wanted to speak to you out of earshot of your men just in case there are any whose loyalty is in doubt.” Guay leaned across towards the Duke and laughed as if Francis had told a good joke. His words belied the expression.

  “Do you doubt their loyalty?” he asked.

  “No.” he said firmly, “I have never heard any indication that they are not completely loyal to the King. And they are absolutely loyal to you.”

  “Louis Phillipe eh?” Guay had appeared to relax a little at Francis’ reassurance. “I can tell you about him.” Guay’s tone displayed a marked lack of enthusiasm. “Since the Corsican bandit was sent to grass he has haunted court using his money as a passport. His mother was the heiress to the largest fortune in France. Money is not enough on its own of course, but his father was the Duc D’Orléans and he is thus a minor prince of the blood and, in fairness, he was a good soldier. It now appears in addition to money he has ambition too. I wonder if he has told his good friend the Compte D’Artois of his plans.”

  “We need the knowledgeable Miss Leighton to give us a view on this. If there is anyone who will know about Louis Phillipe it will be her.”

  An hour later the Duke relinquished his horse and climbed into the carriage occupied by Madame Leighton and her ‘daughter’. The guards noticed and exchanged knowing glances, completely misinterpreting his motive as the Duke had known they would. Inside Sarah was rapidly acquainted with
the events of the previous evening.

  “Do you know anything about Phillipe D’Orléans?” the Duke asked.

  “My uncle has met him,” she answered slowly. “His father was a supporter of the revolution but it did not help him - he still went to the Guillotine. The view in London is that he is dangerous. He is certainly skilled in insinuating himself into court; despite his father’s treachery he is still well received and although my Uncle and the Ambassador have, as strongly as they can, warned King Louis and his brother of the risk he poses they do not believe it. They think the only threat to the succession is another popular revolution. There are those who consider Louis Phillipe as a better choice for King than Charles as they think he will be more easily controlled. He has openly opposed the King on more than one occasion and yet Charles regards him as good friend and confidante and will not hear a word against him even though Louis Phillipe would appear to have even less in common with him than with his elder brother. My uncle thinks he has an eye on the throne and he is seldom wrong. He thinks that Charles will be a unpopular King and Louis Phillipe is waiting in the wings for an opportunity to take over. If even part of the Garde du Corps du Roi support him, the results don’t bear thinking about.

  “I don’t understand, why would we care who was the King, a long as there was one?” The Duke asked.

  “Suppose supporters of Charles and Louis Phillipe started fighting each other, which side would we support?” Miss Leighton asked patiently knowing that the Duke’s grasp of international politics was rudimentary at best.

  “Wouldn’t we just leave them to fight it out?

  “With the opposition split and fighting amongst themselves, might not the republicans consider this an opportunity? They lost last time because the whole of Europe united against them seeing them as a common enemy but if there was doubt as to who the King should be ...?”

  “Then we couldn’t help at all even if Parliament were willing to do so.” The Duke slapped his forehead in frustration as light finally dawned. “We couldn’t assist Charles or Louis Phillipe in case we picked the wrong side.”

  Some minutes later the Duke remounted his horse and told Guay what Miss Leighton had told him. Guay fell silent for a long time clearly lost in his thoughts until eventually he heaved a sigh.

  “It seems that I shall have yet another story to tell in Le Havre. I can’t get away from it.”

  The party finally arrived at their Hotel in the Rue Jules Lescene in Le Havre about three o’clock and as usual Guay, once he had seen his charges safely installed, went to give his report to the Local Commanding Officer. Liversedge departed to the Captain de Port to see when it might be possible to procure sufficient berths for the crossing to England and the Duke went to enquire whether the Hotel had been holding any mail for him. He was gratified to find a significant pile of correspondence to which he applied himself. Madame and Mademoiselle Leighton took the opportunity to venture out into the town to buy some various knick-knacks including the wherewithal so that Mademoiselle could start to learn embroidery.

  “But my dear!” Madame had exclaimed when Sarah had shyly revealed the extent of her lack of the skills usually expected of a young lady. “This must absolutely be rectified. I shall teach you embroidery and when we reach England we shall see if you can be taught to play the Pianoforte a little.” Since, despite the reassurance she had received, Sarah still felt that her deficiencies made her somehow less of a woman she readily agreed to try and, determined to make a clean breast of the matter, but expecting the worst, she also explained her interest in politics and her skills with the foils. Madame surprised her. “Bien,” she stated approvingly, "and why should it be the case that only men understand what is going on in the world. We women can understand what is going on in the servant’s quarters. Politics is therefore trés simple. When you next take up your foils with the Duke, I should like to watch.” By the time they reached Le Havre the two ladies were fast friends.

  After two hours Liversedge returned to inform the Duke that a suitable packet was scheduled to leave the Bassin Du Roi for Southampton the day after tomorrow and he had taken the liberty of booking sufficient berths for the party. Upon his Grace graciously approving the arrangements the Major Domo immediately despatched a letter for carriage on the night crossing to Southampton bespeaking rooms at the Star Hotel and then went to inform the other servants of the travel plans.

  The Duke had been reviewing the correspondence he had received from England. There was a personal letter from his cousin Gideon demanding to know what the devil he had been doing for the last three years and, in the next sentence congratulating him for achieving his independence. There was however one piece of sad news. “I must inform you that my esteemed parent died a little over six months ago and I have now succeeded to his dignities,” the New Lord Ware wrote. “My father asked me, if ever I should see you again, to tell you that he was proud of you.”

  There were letters from Scriven and from Rigg. Scriven reassured his Grace that he would find Sale House staffed.

  “…knowing Your Grace’s views on economy I have engaged the very minimum and Your Grace can add to them as you see fit.” Scriven apologetically concluded his letter by saying that it was time to hand over his duties to a younger man and, as soon as suitable candidate could be found, he was planning to retire.

  The letter from his lawyer explained that Mr. Rigg had died soon after the Duke left the country. The letter was therefore written by his eldest son who had succeeded to his father’s business. He, courteously expressed the hope that he would be permitted to serve the Duke’s family for as many years as had his father and before that his grandfather, and explained that there were some papers relating to his Grace’s estates which required his signature and which he had taken the liberty of preparing on the Duke’s behalf. He would attend Sale House at the Duke’s earliest convenience upon his Grace’s return to London.

  There was a small pile of letters that bore French return addresses. The Duke left them until last. Reading them carefully he rose from the desk at which he had been seated, a deep look of satisfaction on his face. He had asked to be informed when Guay should return to the Hotel but when the normally cheerful Captain was admitted into the room he looked as if he carried the cares of the world upon his shoulders.

  “I do not know what has happened to overset your sprits but I hope I may be able to restore them a little. I have a letter for you.” The Duke said handing Guay a folded sheet of paper. “I have not read it but I do know what it says.”

  My Son, (the letter read;)

  I have received a number of very kind letters from the Duke of Sale (to which I have replied) explaining that he considers himself considerably in your debt and would like to offer you a position which he thinks would use your talents. He accepts that you have been of age for many years and he perfectly understands that you are your own master but he asks if I have any objections if you leave the army. I have assured him I have none whatsoever. If you are minded to accept the position the Duke proposes to offer you then you may do so with my good will. Had I the means I would have wished to see you creditably established in more stable employment years ago.

  He also gives me to understand that (at last!) you wish to take a wife. He has explained to me all the circumstances relating to your intended including that she is not of gentle birth and the other matter of which I shall not speak, and seeks, on your behalf, my permission to the Union. This is a matter for you my son. If she is indeed that girl described to me by his Grace, then I would think she will suit you very well. Please do not wait until you have the time to return home again to marry. Life is too short.

  Yours Affectionately,

  Your father.

  The letter did indeed lift Guay’s mood somewhat. While he had been certain of his parent’s approval of his proposed bride he had been wondering how he could obtain approval from his betrothed’s guardian, do his duty by the Duke and still fit in a visit to his own father. He
therefore thanked the Duke for his intervention. There was however one matter which remained unexplained.

  “My Father’s letter mentioned a ‘position’? asked Guay looking deeply puzzled.

  “You will doubtless have a number of questions,” replied the Duke avoiding the question and I will answer them all, but first,” he produced another letter “you may wish to read this. It was written to me but concerns you more.”

  Your Grace,

  Thank you for your kind letters to my sister and I. We are happy to know that my niece is giving yourself and Miss Leighton satisfaction.

  As regards the other matter you may tell Sergeant Guay that we consent, gladly, to the marriage. A man recommended by you would not need anything more to render him acceptable to us. We should of course like her to be married in her own Church in Seltz but if this is not possible then we enclose her birth and confirmation records for the priest.

  We hope that one day you will find the time to visit us in Seltz once again.

  Vallon.

  It could be seen that the fact he did not have to ride across France to secure the permission of his intended’s guardians and his own parent’s approval, had further lightened his expression. He sat back and cocked an eyebrow at the Duke inviting him to explain what he was planning. It was, to say the least, irregular to seek approval for marriage on behalf of another.

  “I wrote to your father soon after leaving Seltz. I cannot be in England and France at the same time and though I intend spending more time in your country I shall need someone to look after things when I am elsewhere. You once told me that your ambition was to manage an estate. I have, as you know, recently acquired considerable estates in France and I wondered if you would consider acting as my Steward here. However, for you to do this you will need some training and I had considered asking Scriven, my Steward in England, if he could assist for a few months. Unfortunately, events have rather overtaken me somewhat. I had not, when I first wrote to your father anticipated your meteoric rise through the ranks. I can see however, that what might have been an attractive offer for a Sergeant may not seem so to a Captain, especially one who, at his present rate of advancement, will be a Commandant by Christmas.”

  Guay sighed heavily, obviously considering the Duke’s offer carefully.

  “I think,” he said with a most peculiar expression on his face, “I had better tell you what happened tonight.”

  Guay had delivered his despatches into the hands of the Le Havre garrison commander, one Lieutenant-Colonel Fabre, just as he had done in Reims and Amiens. This individual whom Guay had never met and knew only a little by reputation, read through the letters with, judging by the stormy expression on his somewhat aquiline features, acute disfavour.

  “Report,” demanded Fabre and Guay, conscious of the fact that this man was the highest ranked officer in eastern France, gave his report concisely, confining himself to the facts only. When he had finished the only reply he received was a bad tempered “Humph” as the man turned his back. After standing silently for a minute or so. The senior officer looked over his shoulder. “Have you seen D’Armont?” Guay confirmed that he had met him at Amiens but not since then. “Pity!” remarked Fabre, “if he comes here he will not be driven out. He’s young and he has a lot to learn, but if he thinks Louis-Phillipe will make a better King than D’Artois then I like him already.” Guay’s face assumed a mask like quality as Fabre continued. “I can’t abide the republicans, I’m a loyal officer in the Garde du Corps du Roi and I need a King on the throne of France, but there is nothing wrong with preferring a good soldier to that worthless, dictatorial, self-absorbed, old court card who is, regrettably, soon to be Charles X. Babinaux is an old woman. He should retire and stop clinging to an out of date Bourbon monarch who thinks his right to rule comes from God.” At this Guay felt he had to protest especially given Babinaux’s record on the battlefield but Fabre was unimpressed. “So what, that was nearly ten years ago. If you espouse the Compte D’Artois’ cause around here, you will not be well liked. Almost everyone has privately declared for Orléans and, when the opportunity arises, will do so publicly. However,” he raised a document which Guay recognised as official orders, “when that happens, you will not be here. You are ordered, once your charges have departed for England, to leave for Paris to assist with ‘security.’” Fabre re-read through the orders and finished offhandedly, “well it wouldn’t do for me, I’m a proper soldier, but, in a job like that ... Well let’s just say it won’t be long before I will be calling you Sir.” He waved at Guay indicating he should now leave as he turned to gaze out of the window again, “Dismissed!” he said.

  “What a pretentious fool!” remarked the Duke as Guay finished is account. “So, the day after tomorrow you go to Paris for your next assignment. How will you deal with Fabre’s disloyalty?”

  “Pretentious, he most certainly is, and rude too,” remarked Guay thoughtfully. “But I do not think he is a fool. If he says there are many Guards prepared to declare for Louis-Phillipe, then there probably are. In any event,” he appeared to pull himself together a little as he spoke more strongly, “it is no longer my problem, I have drawn my pay and resigned my commission.” Seeing the Duke open mouthed in astonishment he grinned and continued, “so Your Grace, if the offer you articulated to me not ten minutes since is still available for my acceptance then, with respect, I am your man.”

  “Welcome to my staff Monsieur Guay,” The Duke immediately held out his hand. “But tell me why?”

  “It was not a difficult decision,” Guay’s clear brown eyes looked back at him, “I have fought in two wars against my own countrymen, if Fabre is right then I might end up fighting my own friends. This would be very hard to do. As to the rest” he gave a Gallic shrug, I joined the Garde Du Corps Du Roi because I wanted to be a soldier not a clerk. It was time to go.”

  There were arrangements to be made. Guay went to break the news to his men and the Duke called for Liversedge and asked him if he thought the packet might be able to convey an extra person to England.

  “If you are referring to Monsieur Guay,” Liversedge asked in his usual unflappable tone, “I booked passage for him this morning as I apprehended he would be likely to travel with us Your Grace.” Will there be anything else.” In one quarter the news was greeted with unfettered joy. The Duke could tell exactly the moment when Véronique learned the news by the shrill shriek of happiness. “I apprehend that Miss Ricard has been informed that Monsieur Guay is to travel to England with us,” remarked Liversedge at that moment engaged in pouring the Duke a glass of brandy, “I will endeavour to persuade her to restrain herself.”

  The packet left for England as planned and, as the boat sailed out of the harbour, the Duke stood on the deck accompanied only by Francis and turned resolutely to face the English coast. In many ways, he was now ready to return but the thought of re-assuming the mantle of all those responsibilities from which he had fled more than three years before, was playing heavily on his mind. The two men stood in companionable silence as the French coast receded behind them until eventually Francis spoke.

  “It will be different this time Your Grace.”

  After a moment, the Duke nodded slowly and responded,

  “You are right. It will.”