In the Commodore's Hands (15 page)

‘Lord Portman and Nathaniel Kingslake, for instance,’ Sam said. ‘And you and me.’

‘Yes. James Smith is the only name they have.’

‘Is that a sticking point?’

‘I do not think so. They are fully committed to war in Europe, they cannot afford to go to war with us. They haven’t the men or the money.’

‘What about Giradet?’

‘Ah, Giradet. What did you find out about La Force?’

‘It was once the residence of the Duc de la Force, but was converted into a prison twelve years ago. It is a warren of rooms and corridors, all secure and well guarded. Which one houses Monsieur Giradet, I have not yet been able to ascertain. If we are going to get him out of there, it will have to be by subterfuge—we’d need an army to fetch him out by force.’

‘My thoughts exactly. We could try the same method we used to free his father.’

‘You mean pretend to be guards conveying him to his trial? Do you know when it will be?’

‘Not yet.’

‘I suppose you can’t ask Monsieur Martin to find out.’

‘No. I have to keep my government business and the rescue of Giradet as far apart as possible. Unfortunately, Miss Giradet cannot understand that.’

‘Oh, I see. She is sulking.’

‘No, I do not think she is sulking, she is simply angry with me.’

Sam laughed again. ‘I am thinking that it is as well you are not married to the lady—your life together would be tempestuous.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. She is frustrated. It might help if I could give her something to do that will not involve her in danger.’

‘Buy her some knitting.’

Jay laughed. He could not imagine Lisette sitting still long enough to knit. But it left him wondering just how well he knew the lady. Did she sew and embroider? Did she read? Did she like shopping for clothes? What was there to buy in Paris?

He put the suggestion to her the next morning. She seemed to have forgotten their disagreement and was anxious to please him. He was not sure if that boded well or ill. ‘We may be here longer than I thought,’ he said. ‘Two gowns and a skirt and blouse are hardly enough.’

‘It is more than some women have,’ she said, surprised that he knew the contents of her meagre wardrobe.

‘True, but you are not some women. If we are
asked to another function, you cannot appear in the same dress. I will give you
assignats
to go shopping, but make sure you take Madame Gilbert with you.’

‘And what will you be doing while I am gone?’

‘What I came to France to do.’

‘Making peace with the monsters?’

‘Yes, but also trying to free your brother.’

‘You have a plan?’ she asked eagerly.

‘Not yet. I need to find out everything I can, whereabouts in the prison he is being held and the routine of the guards, when and where he will be tried and on what charge. Then I need to appoint a defence lawyer whom we can trust to help us.’

‘You mean to try and defend him in a court of law? You know the result of that is a foregone conclusion. He will be sentenced to death.’

‘I hope and pray it will not come to that.’

As soon as they finished their breakfast, he left to go about his business and Lisette and Madame Gilbert set off to look for clothes. Many of the shops had been looted, even those selling ladies’ finery. Lisette had seen several women in bedraggled gowns that had once been fashionable, the material of which was too fine
to last in the hurly-burly life of a Parisian peasant. they were already so faded and grubby it was difficult to tell the colour they had originally been. She was not looking for finery and eventually they found a bolt of blue silk and a mantua maker to make it into a gown. Stays were another matter. There were none to be had except second-hand ones and she would not buy those. The dressmaker was instructed to make a simple round gown with a bodice that closed at the front. That done, Lisette went in search of masculine garments.

‘What do you want those for?’ Madame Gilbert demanded.

‘For my brother. He will be joining us shortly.’ She did not explain how or why; it was no business of the
concierge
.

They completed their shopping by buying food at exorbitant prices; the bread alone cost more than twice what it had when she was last in France and the
assignat
had been devalued by at least half. The country was close to bankruptcy which was why everything looked so run-down.

They set off back to the Embassy, making a detour along Rue St Antoine in order to look at La Force prison. It was situated in an alley, rising tall and grim above the buildings that surrounded it. There was a courtyard in front of it
where two guards were marching back and forth before a heavy wooden door. Lisette stopped to look up at its many barred windows, wondering where Michel was and if he could see her if he were to look out. As they watched, a tumbril was driven into the courtyard and came to a stop. The door of the prison was thrown open and several men and two women were prodded out by armed guards. The women were crying and clinging together and had to be forcibly lifted into the tumbril. The men climbed in and stood stoically waiting for it to move off.

The
concierge
shuddered and crossed herself as the tumbril passed them, escorted by armed guards and accompanied by a crowd on foot, jeering at its occupants. ‘God have mercy on them,’ she said. ‘Let us go,
madame
, before we are made to join them.’

Lisette turned to leave. ‘Where are they being taken?’

‘To Madame Guillotine. It is the fate of everyone who leaves that place.’

‘Is no one found innocent and set free?’

The woman shrugged. ‘I have never heard of such a thing.’

Jay was not back when they returned to the Embassy and had not returned by supper time.
Lisette ate a lonely meal and went to bed. She could not sleep. The sight of that tumbril and its white-faced, weeping occupants haunted her. If the mob had emptied the prisons in that dreadful massacre the previous month, they had soon been filled again. Did Jay have any intention of risking life and limb to get Michel out? He had never met Michel, so why would he? It was up to her. But how? Would the prison warders allow her to speak to her brother? Could she change places with him? If she did, how could she get out herself? Was she prepared to die in his place? In the quiet of the early hours, when the house was silent and even the noise in the street had quieted, it was easy to contemplate doing it. But in the light of a new dawn, would she feel so brave? Was there any other way?

J
ay was at breakfast when Lisette went downstairs the following morning. He looked tired and was reading some official-looking papers while he ate. He laid them aside to greet her. ‘Lisette, good morning. Did you sleep well?’

‘Yes, thank you.’ She sat down and poured herself a cup of coffee which, like the tea, had been brought from England. ‘What are you going to do today?’

‘I am going to attend a court session to see how the justice system works. You may come with me if you wish, but only if you promise to remain silent.’

Wanting to know what it would be like if Michel were brought before a court of law, she decided
to ignore his hint that she could not hold her tongue and go with him.

The court sat in the great hall of the Conciergerie on the Île de la Cité. It housed the Palais de Justice as well as the oldest prison in Paris. If the accused were not already held there, they were transferred there in the days before their trial and brought up from the dungeons to attend it. It would not be an easy place to effect a break-out, Lisette decided as they made their way to the courtroom.

There was ample room for hundreds of spectators. Most of the prisoners were political, but not all. There were also thieves, arsonists, blackmailers and prostitutes. These were dealt with swiftly and fairly, but it was those accused of plotting against the Revolution who fared worst. Neither judge nor jury was inclined to leniency—certainly the vociferous public were not. Time after time the judge had to call loudly for order. Witnesses were called, but they came in fear and trepidation.

‘She has been bullied into it,’ Lisette whispered to Jay as one housekeeper gave evidence against her employer, who was accused of writing pamphlets against the Revolution. Another was arraigned for allowing a refractory priest
to say mass in his home and his own tearful daughter was required to give evidence against him. Lisette was reminded that her father had done the same thing. Thank goodness he was safe in England.

They had seen and heard enough long before the day’s business was done and left to go back to the Embassy. ‘Michel will have to be freed before he is brought here,’ she said. ‘We could not take him from here with all those people around.’

‘Yes, I agree,’ he said, then stopped as they came face-to-face with a tall, broad-shouldered man who might once have been handsome, but whose features had become flabby with good living. Instead of moving to one side to allow them to pass, he stood, feet apart, in front of Jay and laughed. ‘Well, well, if it isn’t John Drymore,’ he said in English. ‘You are a long way from home, Drymore. Feeling brave, were you? Did you think you were safe from me in Paris?’

Jay’s face was stony. ‘Out of the way, Wentworth, and let us pass.’

‘Wentworth,’ Lisette gasped.

‘That is my name,’ the stranger said. ‘Gerald Wentworth
à votre service, madame.’
To
Jay he said, ‘Are you not going to present me to your friend?’

Jay, who had been staring at the man with loathing, turned to Lisette. ‘Elizabeth, this is—’

‘I think I know who he is,’ she said. ‘But does he know me?’

‘I am afraid I do not have that honour,’ he said.

She turned to Jay. ‘Tell him.’

‘My wife, Mrs Drymore. Elizabeth, Mr Gerald Wentworth,’ Jay said tersely. ‘Now will you allow us to pass?’

‘Your wife, eh? Well, I never.’ He stepped to one side, removed his tall hat and gave Lisette an elaborate bow. ‘Good day to you, Mrs Drymore. No doubt we will meet again ere long.’ He went off, chuckling to himself.

‘Why did you not tell him the truth?’ Lisette said when she and Jay were out of earshot.

‘Because you are in Paris using a pseudonym and it is as well to maintain it to everyone. You never know who might be listening.’

‘But if my guess is right, he is my uncle.’

‘I was under the impression you had no love for your English relatives.’

‘Nor have I. I was curious to know what his reaction might be on learning my identity.’

‘No doubt he would find it comical.’

‘You dislike him, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘You once said you would tell me why one day. I think that day has come, don’t you?’

‘Perhaps, but I cannot speak of it in the street and I have arranged to meet Pierre Martin later. We will talk this evening.’

At last, she was going to find out what made Jay Drymore the serious, uncompromising man he was, and perhaps she would be able to soften him. She tucked her hand under his elbow as any wife might, half-expecting him to move away, but instead she felt a slight squeeze. That was a good sign, surely?

They were almost at the entrance to the Embassy when they were accosted by a miserable-looking beggar dressed in dirty rags. Old and bent, his hair was unkempt and his face filthy. The only bright thing about him was his red cap. When he grinned at them he showed blackened teeth. Lisette shuddered at the sight of him, especially when he caught hold of Jay’s coat. ‘A sou for a drink, citizen,’ he whined. ‘I’ve had not a sup all day.’

Jay reached into his pocket and handed over a small coin. The man bit into it and began to laugh. It was such a curiously joyful sound for
one in such dire straits that Lisette found herself staring at him in puzzlement. ‘The devil it is to get you to part with money, my friend,’ he said to Jay in perfect English. ‘I shall keep it as a souvenir.’

‘Harry! You devil!’ Jay’s eyes lit with pleasure. ‘Where did you spring from?’

‘I have just arrived from Calais. Speaking of that drink…’

Jay looked about him. There was no one in the street. He ushered Lisette and then Harry into the Embassy and shut the door. The bent old beggar stood upright; he was even taller than Jay. He was not old either, being in his early fifties, and his eyes, which had seemed dull, gleamed with intelligence and humour.

‘Lisette, this is Lord Portman,’ Jay said. ‘I am sure you have heard my father mention his name. Harry, meet Miss Giradet, though for the moment she is known as Mrs Drymore.’

‘How do you do, Mrs Drymore.’ He executed a flourishing bow, which was so incongruous set against his rags that she burst out laughing. ‘You like my disguise?’ he queried.

‘It is very convincing,’ she said. ‘How do you do it?’

‘I once trod the boards with Jay’s grandmother when I was a mere stripling and played
many roles, even old men. Alas, I am no longer a stripling, but I can still play a part.’

Sam came into the hall from the back of the house. ‘I thought I heard voices…’ He stopped suddenly. ‘Lord Portman. Well, I’ll be damned.’

‘I did not deceive you then, Sam?’

‘I have seen you in too many guises, my lord, to be taken in.’

‘Show his lordship up to one of the spare rooms and take some hot water up for him to wash that dreadful stuff off his face and teeth,’ Jay told Sam. ‘And find him some decent clothes.’

Harry followed Sam up the stairs while Lisette went into the kitchen to tell Madame Gilbert there would be a guest for dinner and they would like some refreshment to stave off the hunger pangs until then.

It was over tea and some unappetising cakes that they sat down to talk. Harry had changed into some of Jay’s clothes and though he was able to wear Jay’s stockings, his shoes were too small. ‘I trust you will excuse me, coming into your presence in stockinged feet, Mrs Drymore,’ he said, maintaining the pretence in case the
concierge
was listening. ‘And in this suit. Truly, Jay is not the most fashionably dressed
of men. It comes with being a sailor and then a farmer, I think.’

‘It is not a good idea to be too well dressed in Paris now,’ Jay said. ‘Your usual flamboyant garb would have you hanging from the nearest lamp post at the blink of an eye.’

‘I am aware of that.’

‘Do you also know you are a wanted man?’

‘I guessed that might be so.’

‘Then why, in heaven’s name, risk coming back?’

‘I heard from your father what was afoot and decided you might be glad of a little help, so here I am. I came with Nat Kingslake and Joe Potton. I left them playing cards with mine host at the tavern where we are lodging. They will no doubt have lost their money by the time I return, but it is good to keep in with the local population, especially one as helpful as Monsieur Barnard has been.’ Nat was Nathaniel Kingslake, brother-in-law of Lord Cadogan, who, as Sir Ashley Saunders, was another prominent member of the Society, and Joe had been rescued by James from poverty and a life of crime in Ely when he was ten years old and been given an education and a job, but he had never lost the ability to live on his wits.

‘I am obliged to you,’ Jay said. ‘Five heads are better than two.’

‘Better than three,’ Lisette corrected him. ‘Now we are six.’

‘You, madam, will stay out of it,’ Jay said.

‘Oh, dear, do I detect a little dissension?’ Harry queried.

‘Lisette is not here at my behest,’ Jay told him. ‘She smuggled herself aboard the yacht and I am stuck with her.’

‘How
ungallant
you are, my friend. I wonder she bothers with you.’

‘We are stuck with each other,’ Lisette said, not to be outdone. ‘The Commodore is being very difficult. I am sure I can help, but he will not tell me what his plans are.’

‘Jay was always one to play his cards close to his chest, Mrs Drymore. It is why he won so many battles at sea and earned his promotion. You may safely trust him.’

‘I would if he would only confide in me, but he tells me nothing. I don’t think he knows what to do and he will not listen to my ideas.’

‘What ideas?’ Harry asked. ‘I am listening.’

‘I could dress up as Michel and change places with him. We are very alike and when we were children often used to dress in each
other’s clothes and pretend to be each other. It was a game we played with our friends.’

‘And what do you hope to achieve?’ Jay demanded. ‘Have you thought how you will escape when the prison guards find out they have been duped? Do you imagine they will simply let you go?’

‘Probably not.’

‘Now can you see why I will not let her become involved?’ Jay asked Harry. ‘Her ideas are madness.’

‘Jay has a point, madam,’ Harry said. ‘If you took your brother’s place, you would be signing your own death warrant. We cannot allow that.’ Then, to Jay, ‘What have you done so far?’

‘I discovered Michel is being held in La Force, but where exactly we do not yet know. Prisoners are taken from there to the Conciergerie a day or two before their trial and held there after sentencing until the tumbril comes to take them to the guillotine. They are, of course, guarded closely at all times.’

‘What is he being charged with?’

‘I have not heard the formal arraignment, but Sam heard that he is accused of planning counter-revolution, aiding and abetting the escape of the
ci-devant
Comte Giradet from
prison, and assaulting a member of a provincial assembly on his lawful business.’

‘That is surely enough to hang any man.’

‘None of it is true,’ Lisette said. ‘He had nothing to do with Papa’s escape, as Jay perfectly knows, and as for assaulting Henri Canard—can you blame him when the man is squatting in our home as if he owned it?’

‘When is the trial to be?’

‘We don’t know,’ Jay said. ‘I don’t think the date has been fixed. Perhaps they do not have a strong enough case to condemn him and are looking for more evidence. Until we can discover exactly where Giradet is being held and can gain access to him, Lisette and I must continue to play our part as a British envoy and his wife.’

‘Aah.’

Madame Gilbert knocked and entered and said their dinner was on the table and they repaired to the dining room to eat boiled mutton and some tarts, which were more turnips than meat. It was followed by stewed apple, making a real peasant meal for which the housekeeper made no apology. They were joined by Sam at Jay’s behest.

‘Can you do anything to help us, my lord?’
Lisette asked when the
concierge
left them to serve themselves.

‘It needs some thought and careful preparation.’

‘That is exactly what I have been saying,’ Jay said. ‘We cannot go at it with guns half-cocked.’

‘It is best not to use guns, either cocked or half-cocked,’ Harry said.

Jay laughed. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘Yes.’ Harry turned to Lisette. ‘Jay is right, you know. Until the date of your brother’s trial has been fixed, he will come to no harm where he is. In truth, he is better off, for out on the streets he could well become the victim of the mob. I must caution you to be patient.’

‘I know, but it is difficult. If only I could see Michel and talk to him, to let him know we are working on his behalf, I would feel so much easier in my mind.’

‘If you are as much like your brother as you say you are, I would not recommend you go anywhere near La Force,’ Jay said.

‘Lord Portman will show me how to disguise myself.’

‘Oh, will I?’ Harry said. ‘I have no wish to fall out with your husband.’

‘He is not my husband.’

‘While you are in Paris, I am,’ Jay said. ‘And
a most inconvenient spouse you are to boot. When we go back to England is another matter.’ He paused and changed tack. ‘Tell me, Harry, have you been to Highbeck recently?’

‘I was there last week. They are all well, though your mother is worried about you. There are such gruesome tales being told in the newspapers, she is half-convinced she will never see you again and she is inclined to blame your father for aiding and abetting you to go.’

‘I have never known them quarrel.’

‘Oh, they are not quarrelling. Like all good wives, she is suffering in silence. I only found out from one of your sisters.’

‘See,’ Jay said to Lisette. ‘Even Harry thinks good wives should keep their own counsel and do not defy their lords.’

‘Then it is as well our state of matrimony is only temporary,’ she said with some asperity.

Jay changed the subject and turned back to Harry. ‘Did you see Edward and Anne?’

‘To be sure I did. I was taken to see an enormous eel in the moat which they told me no one was allowed to catch because they wanted to see how long it would grow. they did not believe me when I said it would swim away to find a mate and make more little eels. When I told them I should shortly see you, they sent
their respectful regards and hoped you would both be home soon. I think they like you, Mrs Drymore.’