In the Commodore's Hands (14 page)

‘I have ways of learning these things,’ he said. ‘It is a pity you cannot trust me.’

She did not know what to say to that and was silent as they made their way through the crowded streets to the Embassy. No one challenged them, though she was on tenterhooks that they might. Once someone pushed past her, nearly knocking her over. Jay grabbed her and from then on kept her arm firmly in his.

‘What else did you learn?’ she asked, glad of his strength, though she would not admit it.

‘About your brother?’

‘Yes. I care nothing for politics.’

‘It is politics and politicians that have brought
France to this pass. They cannot agree among themselves about what is to be done, but if Marat has his way, every nobleman in France will lose his head. It is to be hoped that less bloodthirsty factions will restrain him.’

She glanced up at one of the bodies swinging gently from a lamp post. ‘They don’t seem to be having much success.’

‘No, which is why we must proceed with caution.’

‘So, what are you going to do?’

‘Tonight, you and I are going to dine with Maximilien Robespierre. He is a committed Republican, so mind what you say.’

‘I do not wish to go. He is one of the chief oppressors.’

‘Whether you wish it or not, you will, as my wife, accompany me.’

‘According to Auguste I am wanted for aiding my father’s escape. If Monsieur Robespierre learns of that, not even you will be able to save me.’

‘I am aware of that. It is why you are here as my wife, to give you some degree of protection.’ He ushered her into the house. ‘I must go and change and you should, too. Nothing too elaborate, we do not want to embarrass our host.’

‘I do not have anything elaborate. I brought
only what I could carry in a portmanteau. I have clothes in plenty at Villarive which I was obliged to leave behind. No doubt Henri Canard’s wife is enjoying them. According to Auguste he has taken over the château and is living like a lord.’ She gave a short, humourless laugh. ‘Is it not strange that those who advocate equality and want to do away with the nobles are the first to ape them when the opportunity arises?’

‘It is human nature. Now go and change. Come down to the salon when you are ready. We must give you a new history, an English one.’

They parted on the landing to go to their separate rooms. Lisette turned her clothes out on the bed. There were only two gowns to choose from: a dark blue cambric and a rose-coloured taffeta with a plain quilted stomacher. She chose the latter as being more suitable for an evening occasion. It had no false hips or cage, neither of which could be accommodated in her luggage. With no one to dress her hair, she simply brushed it out and tied it back with a ribbon. Then she made her way downstairs.

Jay was already in the salon. Dressed in a plain suit of dark blue cloth with a dove-grey waistcoat and white shirt, he was standing with his back to the fire. He moved away when she
entered and came forwards to take her hand and lead her to a sofa.

‘We have half an hour before we need to leave,’ he said, sitting down beside her and retaining her hand in his. ‘And we must decide who you are and how we came to meet and marry. I think it will be safer if you are English with no French antecedents.’

‘Very well. I could use my mother’s maiden name of Wentworth.’

‘Not that,’ he said sharply.

‘You do not like it?’

‘It will not serve.’

‘Will you tell me why?’

‘It is too well known and too easily checked.’

Curiosity got the better of her. ‘Is that the only reason? I noticed your reaction on a previous occasion when the name was mentioned. There is, I think, some enmity there.’

‘It is nothing that need concern you.’

‘But I, as your wife—’

‘But you are not, and my life before we met has no relevance to our present situation.’

‘I meant if I am to play your wife,’ she amended. ‘I should know something of your past. Is it so painful to speak of it?’

‘Yes.’

‘You do not trust me.’

He laughed. ‘Trust is a two-way affair, Lisette. Perhaps one day I will tell you, but not now. Let us go back to your name and history. I think we could use my mother’s maiden name of Challon. If asked, we will say your father was her brother. If anyone takes the trouble to query it, my parents will vouch for you.’

‘Does your mother have a brother?’

‘No, we will invent one. William Challon, that will do. Long deceased, of course. So is your mother. You grew up at Blackfen Manor with my parents.’

‘It will make us cousins.’

‘All the better. We have known each other all our lives.’

‘Yes, and when your wife died, I was there to comfort you and we fell in love.’

‘Must you bring love into it?’

‘Of course. We must be convincing.’

This pretend story was playing havoc with her emotions. The story might be fiction, but her love was real enough. Why could they not talk about it? A man should not mourn his wife for ever and be blind to new affection.

‘Very well, the story is yours. You will probably not need to tell it anyway. What about a Christian name? Lisette is a little too French. Shall you be Elizabeth?’

‘Elizabeth Challon,’ she mused. ‘Newly wed. Could this visit to France be our honeymoon, do you think?’

‘It is a strange place to come for a wedding trip,’ he said with a laugh. ‘We are likely to lose our heads if we are not careful.’

‘Is that not why you are here at the behest of the British Government, to prevent more bloodshed?’

‘Yes, hence the need to be pleasant to Robespierre and his like. I have asked Sam to bring the carriage round at half past six.’

She looked up at the clock on the mantel. ‘It is nearly that now.’

‘Yes. He will come and tell us when he is ready.’

‘What has he been doing all day?’

‘Making enquiries for me. You would be surprised at what he manages to achieve, given a free hand. It would not surprise me to learn he knows the layout of La Force prison in perfect detail.’

‘Oh, Jay,’ she said. ‘You have been thinking of me, after all.’

‘Of course. You are forever in my thoughts, you and that brother of yours who seems to be able to command your utmost love and loyalty.’

‘Why not?’ she said, puzzled by the tone of
his voice. ‘Blood is thicker than water and he is my twin, which makes us extra close. Do you not feel like that about your sisters?’

‘Naturally I do.’

‘There you are, then.’

Sam arrived to tell them the carriage was at the door and if they did not want it purloined, they had best make haste and get into it.

The house in Rue St Honore where Robespierre lodged was the home of Maurice Duplay and it was he who greeted them and ushered them into the salon where his other guests had already arrived. Lisette was introduced to Maximilien Robespierre, an elegant little man with perfect manners, Georges Danton, the Minister of Justice, who was fat and not at all attractive, and Philippe Le Bas, another Deputy who was married to their host’s elder daughter, Elisabeth, who was there with her husband. The party was completed by Madame Duplay, her younger daughter, Eleanore, and Pierre Martin who, unlike the others who were Jacobins, served on the National Convention as an independent.

Lisette did not curtsy—such courtesies went out with the Revolution—but she inclined her head slightly and greeted each of them politely,
calling them
monsieur, madame
or
mademoiselle
, though they referred to each other as
citoyen
or
citoyenne
.

Supper was served almost as soon as they arrived and the conversation at the table was entirely about politics and the war with Austria. Lisette took no part, preferring to listen. Jay, she noted, was circumspect in what he said, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with their fellow diners, even when what they said seemed outrageous.

‘Is this your first visit to Paris, Mrs Drymore?’ Lisette had not been paying attention and was startled to be addressed in English by Robespierre. She glanced up at Jay, who was looking closely at her, as if telling her to be careful how she answered.

‘Yes, it is,’ she said, also in English. ‘I had heard so much about what a beautiful city it is and indeed that is true, there are some very grand buildings, but it has been spoilt by the dreadful violence. I was very frightened when we arrived in the middle of a riot and would have fainted if my dear husband had not shielded me.’

‘Just lately the populace have been up in arms about the shortages of food and the conscription,’
he explained. ‘Hard as it is, we need men to fight the war.’

‘Can you not control them?’

‘The people are free to express their displeasure,’ Danton put in. ‘That is what the Revolution is all about.’

‘But they are so bloodthirsty.’

‘Unfortunately that is the inevitable consequence of revolution,’ Robespierre told her. ‘We cannot detain the whole population, but the ringleaders will be arrested and tried and will suffer the consequences. We can only control them with fear of reprisals.’

She refrained from saying what was in her mind when she saw Jay surreptitiously shaking his head. ‘I am afraid I did not understand,’ she said. ‘What little French I learned in the schoolroom was quickly forgotten.’

Jay appeared to be choking and covered it by drinking from his wine glass. No one else seemed to think this statement anything but the truth and Robespierre was apologetic. ‘I am sorry, madam, it is discourteous of us to converse in a language you cannot understand. I have been explaining to your husband that the French are a peaceful nation at heart and only go to war when there is no alternative.’

‘Please carry on with your discussion,’ she
said. ‘I am sure you must prefer to speak French. Do not mind me.’

‘Thank you,
madame
. Citizen Danton has little English and it is important we all understand the discussion. Commodore Drymore’s French is excellent.’

She smiled and continued to eat, listening to their talk about their peaceful intentions, though the Frenchmen deprecated the refuge Britain was giving to fleeing nobles and refactory priests, who had been ordered to return. ‘If that were not bad enough,’ Danton said, ‘there are Englishmen in this country actively aiding nobles and priests to escape.’

‘If there are, they are acting on their own account,’ Jay said smoothly. ‘They do not have the support of my government.’

‘It would help to convince us of good intent if the British Government forbade such a thing,’ Robespierre put in.

‘Do you know who they are?’ Jay asked.

‘Unfortunately no, except for one who calls himself James Smith. He abducted the
ci-devant
Comte Giradet and smuggled him out of the country when he was on his way to his trial. But there have been others. I am told they call themselves the Piccadilly Gentlemen. If they could be brought to book, it would certainly
help diplomatic relations between your country and ours.’

‘I will put the problem to my government,’ James said. ‘But I am sure they will say no English law has been broken and it is up to the French government to find them and arrest them.’

‘We would if we had their names…’

‘I am afraid I cannot help you there.’

It was an effort on Lisette’s part not to appear too interested in this, but it looked very much as though the success of the negotiations would be dependent on Jay supplying details of anyone helping the
émigrés
. And that included himself.

The meal ended and she retired with the ladies to take tea, which Jay had had the forethought to bring from England and present to their hostess. Still pretending she did not understand French, they spent an hilarious hour trying to communicate in sign language and the odd word of each other’s language. When the gentlemen joined them, the whole charade was replayed for their benefit.

They were still laughing when the evening came to an end and Jay took her back to the Embassy. ‘They want names,’ she said, suddenly
serious, as Sam drove them through the streets, quieter now after the tumult of the day before. ‘You can’t give them names, can you?’

‘No, of course not. I shall have to hedge and say enquiries to identify the men could take some time.’

‘How long will it be before they put two and two together and realise James Smith is John Drymore?’

‘Not before we are safely on our way, I hope.’

‘Then it is becoming urgent to find Michel and make our escape.’

‘Not so urgent we make foolish mistakes. I know how impatient you are, Lisette, and I can understand that, but whatever I do must be foolproof.’ He paused before going on. ‘Why did you pretend you could not understand French?’

‘It seemed a good idea. People might talk in front of me and say things I am not supposed to hear. They might not have spoken about the
émigrés
and what they expected of the British Government if they thought I could understand. Besides, if I have to adopt the disguise of a Frenchwoman, no one will suspect it is me, the foolish wife of a British envoy.’

‘What makes you think you might have to adopt a disguise?’

‘Well, you never know, do you?’

‘Oh, yes, I do. You will take no part in the rescue.’

‘You might need me.’

‘Never!’

That one word silenced her. The pleasure went out of the evening. She had been rejected yet again.

The carriage came to a stop outside the Embassy and Sam jumped down to open the door for them. Lisette preceded them into the house, made her excuses and went straight up to her room.

‘What’s the matter with madam?’ Sam asked, fetching the half-empty bottle of Calvados and a couple of glasses from the cupboard in the salon. ‘Did the evening not go well?’

‘It went as well as can be expected. Robespierre assures me that the French government has no plans to declare war on England, though we are in bad cess with them over our willingness to shelter
émigrés
. He would like us to force them to return, but I told him we could not do that. England is a free country, they are welcome to stay as long as they abide by our laws. They want the names of anyone helping them out of France.’