In the Commodore's Hands (16 page)

‘And I am very fond of them. Was my father well?’

‘Yes, but pining for you and for his son. He told me he was very vexed with you for going off as you did and putting yourself in danger, but I was to tell you he forgave you and prayed for your safe return. I assured him I would add my weight to Jay’s to bring matters to a successful outcome.’

‘Thank you,’ she said. The advent of Lord Portman with his cheerful optimism had made her feel much better, and even Jay seemed to have regained some of his good humour. They finished their meal in pleasant conversation, in which Harry told of some of his adventures, making light of dangerous situations, and Jay countered with stories of his days at sea.

When the repast was finished, Harry laid down his cutlery and stood up. ‘Thank you, madam, for an entertaining meal. I can hardly be truthful and call it delicious. When we are all back in England, you and Jay, and your brother too, shall be my guests. Rosamund will welcome you, I know. Now I must go back to Nat
and Joe or they will wonder what has become of me.’ He went off to put on his down-at-heel shoes and picked up his bundle of rags. ‘I shall need these again, no doubt. I will return your clothes next time we meet.’ He bowed to Lisette. ‘Good day, madam.’

‘I am going out myself,’ Jay said, retrieving his hat and outdoor coat from a cupboard in the vestibule. ‘I will accompany you as far as the corner.’ To Lisette, he said, ‘I do not know when I shall be back. Do not wait supper for me.’

He followed Harry out of the house, leaving Lisette to spend the evening alone.

‘You are taking a very great risk,’ Jay said as they walked. ‘Mama said you were nearly caught the last time you were here and had decided not to come again.’

‘But I could not let you struggle on alone when it is within my power to help. I did not say anything in front of Miss Giradet, but her father is very weak and confused. Your mother has employed a nurse to look after him. Let us hope the safe arrival of both his children will effect a cure.’

‘I hope so too.’

‘Whose idea was it for Miss Giradet to be your wife?’

‘Mine. It was after she insisted on coming with me. As a respectable British diplomat, I could hardly arrive with a mistress.’

‘Mistress?’ Harry queried, one eyebrow raised.

‘No, of course not, but that is how it would be viewed.’

‘And she agreed?’

‘I think she would have agreed to anything to be allowed to stay with me.’

‘Aah.’

‘I wish you would not say “Aah” in that knowing fashion, Harry. It is the second time you have done so today. There is nothing between Miss Giradet and me, nor will there be. We have naught in common.’

‘Except pig-headedness.’ Harry laughed. ‘Tell me, has she made you a good wife?’

‘In so far as she accompanied me to a supper party at Robespierre’s and managed not to embarrass me.’ He chuckled suddenly. ‘She told them she could not speak French and enjoyed herself no end when the ladies retired and they spent a whole hour trying to understand each other.’

‘She has a sense of humour, then.’

‘Yes. When she is not being argumentative,
she can be good company. And don’t you dare “Aah” me again.’

‘Then I will refrain. But have a care, Jay, you might find yourself falling in love.’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘It is not something you can control and I tell you this from experience. I was determined not to fall in love with my wife, but I did. I promise you I have never regretted it.’

‘Then you were lucky.’

‘Oh, no doubt of it. You could be too.’

‘Shall we speak of other things?’ Jay said to stop him enlarging on this theme which made him feel decidedly uncomfortable. ‘How to rescue the lady’s brother, for instance. You brought the Comte and Comtesse d’Estrange safely to England. How did you manage that?’

‘I took over the tumbril that was to take them to the guillotine. We were surrounded by a mob, baying for blood, but I used it to my advantage. I appealed to the
maréchaussée
that if they did not whisk the prisoners away, Madame Guillotine would be deprived of two of her victims before they even reached her. They forced a way through so that we could drive down a side alley. While they were busy holding off the crowd at the head of the alley, we made our escape. We went to the tavern where I am staying
now and changed our clothes. I had a coach and fast horses waiting nearby and forged passes. It was planned down to the last minute.’

‘But you did have a narrow escape.’

‘Yes, the
maréchaussée
were soon on our tail, but we managed to outwit them.’

‘When I was with Robespierre, he asked for the names of the Piccadilly Gentlemen who have been helping the
émigrés
and he expects me to provide them. How he found out about them I have no idea. He must have spies everywhere. It was hinted that peace between our countries might depend upon them being brought to book. Now you are here, it makes it doubly awkward.’ He paused. ‘There is another difficulty I had not envisaged. Gerald Wentworth is in Paris.’

‘The devil he is! What is he doing here?’

‘I do not know, but it can’t be good.’

‘Have you met?’

‘We were accosted by him on the way out of the Conciergerie earlier today.’

‘We?’

‘Lisette was with me. Fortunately he has never met her and I introduced her as my wife. He seemed to think that was cause for merriment.’

‘Does Miss Giradet know about Marianne?’

‘Only that she died in a riding accident. I did not see that it would help to tell her any more than that. Did you know she is Wentworth’s niece?’

Harry whistled. ‘No, I had no idea.’

‘Lisette’s mother was his sister. She became estranged from the family when she married the Comte and Lisette had never met any of them until today. Unfortunately she is curious.’

‘She deserves the truth, Jay. After all, you have done nothing to be ashamed of—quite the opposite.’

‘I know, but I have been putting it off. I try not to think about it at all because it makes me angry and having to drag it up again and explain myself is going to be hard. I have enough to contend with without that.’

‘Does Wentworth know who the Piccadilly Gentlemen are?’

‘I don’t know, but I doubt it. You have not been active of late and my father has been talking of winding up the Association. You are all past the first bloom of youth.’

‘You do have a way of making a fellow feel good, Jay. I’ll have you know I’m as fit as a man half my age.’

Jay laughed. ‘And twice as wily.’

‘You may be thankful for that, ere long, my friend.’

‘I meant it as a compliment.’

They had arrived at the corner of the street where they stopped. ‘I have to meet Pierre Martin,’ Jay said. ‘He is my go-between with the National Convention. I think he is going to suggest I appease Robespierre by promising him at least some of the names he asked for. I’ll have to prevaricate. There is nothing would make me betray you.’

‘That goes without saying, Jay. Come and see me when you are done. I will be at the Cross Keys. It’s in the Rue St Antoine. Bring Sam. We can talk business.’

‘It might be late.’

‘No matter. Any time before midnight.’

Jay watched Harry walk away. He seemed perfectly at ease, but Jay was worried. Harry’s was one of the names Robespierre wanted and his presence in Paris put him in great danger. He would have to persuade him his help was not needed and he and the others should go home. It was a great pity because he could be a great asset. He would meet them later and glean as much advice as possible before they left. It meant he would not have that talk with Lisette as planned, but that was just as well. The truth
might easily sully their relationship, tenuous as it was; she might even go off to meet Wentworth. Even thinking about such a possibility had him clenching his fists.

Lisette roamed about the house all evening, poking into rooms she had not entered before, reading the titles on the books in the library, even going so far as to pull one out, but she could not settle to read. There was too much going on in her head. Did Jay go out on purpose to avoid talking to her about her uncle? Early on she had been convinced there was antipathy between the two men, but now she realised it was downright enmity. What had happened between them? Who was in the right and who in the wrong? Would it make a difference about how she felt about Jay? Did she really want to know? What she had seen of her uncle, she had not liked. There seemed to be a threat in every word he had said. Perhaps it was better to remain in ignorance.

There was a desk in the library and some pens and ink on it. She found some paper and began making a list of things in her brother’s favour and things against his release. When she had finished, she put the pen down with a heavy sigh.

There was so little in the positive column, except a tenuous defence which the prosecuting counsel would easily demolish. She had added Lord Portman to that side as well as Jay’s earlier success at freeing her father. On the opposite side The list was much longer. Michel was in a secure prison, closely guarded and not allowed visitors. The Revolutionaries were intent on doing away with the nobility, especially anyone who was loyal to the King. Michel had been with Louis when he tried to flee and had stayed at his post even after his Majesty had been sent to the Temple. He had fought with Henri Canard and Henri Canard was not one to let the matter drop. Lastly, no one could be found to defend him in court.

It made her so miserable, she screwed the paper into a ball and threw it in the fire. If only Jay would come home. She needed him. Even if they were quarrelling, it was better than sitting alone dwelling on what seemed insurmountable problems. One of the biggest was that Jay did not love her. What his motives were for offering help, she did not know, but it was certainly not love.

She picked at a frugal supper, then went to bed, where she lay awake, trying to think of
ways of freeing her brother without Jay Drymore’s help. The only way she could think of was to throw herself on the mercy of Robespierre or Danton, but how could she do that without telling them her real name and betraying Jay?

She heard low voices in the corridor outside her bedroom and then the sound of something being dropped with a thud, followed by an oath. She crept to the door and flung it open. Jay was in the act of bending to pick up the shoe he had dropped and Sam was creeping past, his shoes in his hand. Both were dressed very shabbily in black suits going green with age and the red cap of the Revolution. Their faces were dirty, their hair matted. She burst into laughter.

‘You find us comical, no doubt,’ Jay said, as Sam continued on his way and disappeared into his own room.

‘What have you been doing?’

‘Learning to live like a
citoyen
of Paris.’

‘With Lord Portman?’

‘Yes. Please go back to bed. You are not decent.’

He was unsmiling and brusque. She retreated and banged the door shut. It wasn’t fair of him to make her love him so, when there was no hope of a happy conclusion. She was just as unmarriageable
as she had always been and this pretence of theirs only heightened that.

Jay went on to his own room and stripped off the filthy clothes. Harry might take easily to being one of the
sans culottes
, but he was not comfortable in the garb. But if it helped to get Michel out of gaol and all of them safely back to England he would have to heed Harry’s lessons, because the sooner that happened the better for all concerned. How convincing could he make himself? Not very, if Lisette’s reaction was any measure; she had laughed at him.

Had she realised that the nightrail she was wearing was almost transparent? He had been given a tantalising glimpse of womanly curves and firm breasts which had roused him as nothing else had done since he had last shared a bed with Marianne. And his wife had been deceiving him even then. How she must have been laughing at him. And now Lisette laughed. It was for a different reason, it was true, but it had been enough to bring it all back. If only he had not drunk so much of that rough wine…

He was woken next morning when Sam brought water for him to wash and shave. ‘You are awake at last,’ he said. ‘Seems to me late
nights do not suit you, if you cannot rouse yourself before noon.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve stood many a night watch as you well know. It was that rotgut wine they serve at the Cross Keys.’

‘You have me there. I was feeling decidedly queasy myself when I woke. A glass of Calvados soon cured it. Shall I fetch you some?’

‘If you please. Where is Miss Giradet? Has she had her breakfast?’

‘Hours ago, Commodore. Then she went out.’

‘Out? Where?’

‘Shopping, so she said.’

‘With Madame Gilbert?’

‘No. Madame is cooking your breakfast.’

‘Fetch my clothes, Sam, and be quick about it. Heaven knows what mischief the woman will get up to out on her own.’

He flung himself into his clothes and left the house without having anything to eat or drink except a hastily swallowed glass of brandy.

Lisette was standing outside Monsieur Duplay’s house, wondering if she dare knock on the door. Her hesitation was not fear for herself, but the knowledge that if she took the next step she would be betraying Jay. He was an exasperating man, so cool-headed, so convinced
he was always right, so blind to her feelings, that she ought not to hesitate. If he did not care for her and thought of her as an encumbrance, then he had no one to blame but himself if she took steps to free her brother herself.

The morning was cold—frost clung to the bare branches of the trees and on the bodies that still swung from the lamp posts—but it was not the weather that was making her shake, it was the thought of what she was contemplating. Unable to bring herself to do it, she turned, intending to walk away, when the door opened and Gerald Wentworth came out. He evidently did not think it necessary to hide his rank; he was immaculately dressed in a silk coat with silver buttons and striped breeches with ribbons at the knees.

‘Mrs Drymore,’ he called, doffing his hat. ‘Good morning to you.’