In the Commodore's Hands (17 page)

She could not ignore him. ‘Good morning, sir.’

‘You are out and about early.’

‘Yes, I felt like a walk.’

‘But you have been standing outside this house for the last ten minutes, I saw you from that window.’ He waved his cane at an upper window. ‘Is there someone there you wish to speak to? Monsieur Robespierre, perhaps?’

She had to think quickly. ‘My husband and I dined with him two nights ago and it is the custom to call on one’s host and thank him for his hospitality, but I realised it was too early in the day and no doubt he was at his breakfast.’

‘I believe his repast is done, I have just left the gentleman. Would you like me to escort you inside? I am sure he will see you.’

‘No, I do not think I shall trouble him, after all.’ She began to walk away.

‘Come now, you are not afraid of him, are you?’ he asked, falling into step beside her.

‘Why should I be afraid? He is a man like any other.’

‘Not like any other, Mrs Drymore. He is one of the most powerful men in France, he can command the life and death of thousands with a flick of his fingers. He is the most admired and the most feared of all men.’

‘I am aware of that.’

‘You were—are—agitated. He is also, I believe, very fond of the ladies, so could it be you had an assignation and were having second thoughts about the wisdom of it?’

She stopped and turned angrily towards him. ‘How dare you, sir? How dare you? My husband could call you out for that.’

He laughed. ‘It would not be the first time.’

Curiosity got the better of her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Ah, I see he has not confided in you. I am not surprised; it is not something he can boast of and especially he would not want a new wife to know about his unsavoury past.’

‘Unsavoury,’ she echoed. She ought to turn and walk away from him, she ought not to listen to him, but if Jay would not tell her why he hated this man, then he could not blame her if someone else chose to do so and she listened.

‘Oh, yes. He was responsible for the death of his first wife.’

‘How can you say that? He loved her and mourned her passing.’

‘That is what he would like the world to think, but in reality the case is very different. He treated her abominably. She stuck it as long as she could for the sake of her children, but in the end his cruelty became too much to bear and she fled on horseback and came to me because she knew I was aware of what he was like and had promised to protect her. He chased after her and in her desperation she tried to jump a hedge that was too high. She was thrown and landed in a ditch with the horse on top of her. The horse struggled up, but by that time she had been badly trodden on. I found her
and took her home and cared for her, but sadly she died next day.’ He gave a soft chuckle. ‘Drymore had the effrontery to challenge me over it.’

‘You fought?’ She ought not to heed him, but he was very sure of himself and she did not seem able to help herself.

‘Yes. I overcame him, but I decided to spare his life. He has never recovered from the humiliation.’

‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘I think it is something you ought to know. After all, how can you be sure the same fate will not befall you? He is a violent and ill-tempered man—I would advise you to take care.’

‘Rubbish!’

‘Is it?’ He paused. ‘Does he know you are out and about alone?’

‘I do not have to ask his permission to leave the house, Mr Wentworth.’

‘Ah, so he does not. But if it was not an assignation, what was so urgent about visiting Monsieur Robespierre that you had to creep out early before you were missed?’

‘I did not creep out. I can come and go as I please.’

He laughed. ‘You know, you are extraordinarily like Marianne, both of you headstrong
and independent. It does not bode well for your continued existence.’

‘I have heard enough of this, Mr Wentworth. Pray do not speak to me on the subject again.’

‘I do not need to. You have the facts—what you do about them is your affair.’

She began to walk very fast, but he was not ready to leave her yet. ‘Tell me, what were you going to see Monsieur Robespierre about? It wasn’t just to thank him for giving you supper, was it?’

‘It is not important.’

‘Anything that upsets you is important to me, Mrs Drymore. Pray, confide in me, I might be able to help.’

She hesitated, but then she thought of Michel, her beloved brother, incarcerated in prison and likely to be executed, and the effect that would have on their father, and took a deep breath, deciding to tell him the story that she had concocted for Robespierre. ‘There is a French Comte and his daughter staying with Lord and Lady Drymore at Blackfen Manor and when the young lady heard that I was to accompany Commodore Drymore to Paris, she begged me to use my best endeavours to see her brother and persuade him to return to England with us.
Unfortunately I have discovered he has been arrested and I am at a loss to know how to fulfil the promise I made to her. I thought Monsieur Robespierre might help.’

‘What has the young man been accused of?’

‘Nothing that I know of, except that he was in the King’s service.’

‘I see,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘And your husband was not to know of your visit to Monsieur Robespierre?’

‘My husband is in Paris on a diplomatic mission, Mr Wentworth, he cannot compromise himself or Britain by involving himself with one prisoner in the hands of French justice.’

‘I am glad you told me, Mrs Drymore. If you tell me the name of the young man, I might be able to help. I have the ear of Robespierre and Danton, too.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, not questioning how he came to know those gentlemen so well or why he should choose to help her. ‘His name is Michel Giradet and he is being held in La Force.’

‘Giradet,’ he repeated. ‘How strange. I have heard that name.’

Of course he would know the name, his sister had married her father! ‘Perhaps you read it
in the London newspapers,’ she said, thinking quickly. ‘The Comte’s arrival in England was hailed as a triumph.’

‘Yes, that must be it. If my memory serves me, he was taken out of France by two Englishmen.’

Only then did she realise the damage she had done. It would not be difficult for him to fill in the whole story with what she had told him, James Smith’s real name, the names of Lord Portman and his friends, not to mention her own and the fact that she and Jay were not married. If he hated Jay as much as Jay hated him, there could be terrible repercussions. ‘You do not need to tell Monsieur Robespierre about that, do you? It would be an ungrateful way to repay those concerned for saving the Comte and his daughter from almost certain death.’

He smiled. ‘You may trust me to do what I can, Mrs Drymore.’

‘And please, do not say anything to my husband.’

He laughed. ‘My dear, you may depend on that. I have no wish to converse with that gentleman.’

‘Thank you.’ She looked up to see Jay striding towards them, his coat open and flapping
out behind him. She turned to bid her companion good day, but he had disappeared down a side road leading to the Tuileries Gardens.

‘L
isette, was that Gerald Wentworth?’ Jay asked when he reached her.

‘Yes, we met quite by chance and passed the time of day.’

He turned to walk beside her. ‘Speaking of time of day, what are you doing out so early and without an escort? Don’t you know how risky that is?’

‘Why is it risky? I am an Englishwoman, a stranger to France, who speaks no French. Who would be interested in me?’

‘Wentworth, perhaps? Did you tell him who you really were?’

‘Certainly not. That would be madness.’

‘I am glad you realise it. Did you have breakfast before you left?’

‘No.’

‘Then let us go back to the Embassy and have it together.’ He took her hand and tucked it beneath his elbow. ‘I need to talk to you.’

‘About your wife? About Marianne?’

‘No, why did you say that?’ he asked in surprise. ‘What has Wentworth been telling you?’

‘He told me you had driven your wife away with your cruelty and that she fled to him and died falling from her horse.’

‘I told you how she died myself.’

‘So you did, but you did not tell me about Mr Wentworth.’

‘It is not something I wish to talk about or even remember. I beg you to refrain from bringing up the subject, we have more important things to discuss if you wish to free your brother.’

He had become once again the ice-cold man she had met in Honfleur. ‘You know I do.’

‘Then let us concentrate on that.’

She gave up. He was not going to tell her his side of the story, but perhaps that meant there was some truth in what Mr Wentworth had told her and he was ashamed. She looked sideways at him, wondering if she ought to be afraid of him, but found she was not. He might belay her with words, but he had never once
threatened her person. Apart from taking her hand now and again, he had never even touched her. Sometimes, during that long journey from Calais to Paris she had wanted him to take her in his arms, to make her feel that she meant something to him, but he never had, not even when they had shared a bed. Ought she to feel glad of that? Why, oh, why were her emotions so confused?

They entered the ambassador’s residence and Sam joined them for breakfast. He was dressed in the dreadful garb of the night before. ‘I am going to La Force,’ he told them while eating the unappetising grey bread, butter and plum conserve which was all Madame Gilbert said she could obtain. She had put the food on the table together with a pot of coffee and gone off to do her housework, grumbling that she only had one pair of hands and could do with some help. Jay had promised to see what he could do.

‘Are you going to try to see Michel?’ Lisette asked Sam. Her early morning jaunt had made her hungry and she was obliged to overcome her distaste of the food to eat.

‘If I can.’

‘Tell him I am thinking of him and am doing my utmost to have him released.’

‘I will if we can speak without being overheard.’

‘What are you going to do, Commodore?’ she asked.

‘I am to meet Lord Portman. We are going exploring. I need to learn the geography of Paris.’

‘May I come?’

‘No. We will be going into some unsavoury quarters and your presence would cause curiosity and suspicion.’

‘Why am I always to be excluded?’

He sighed. ‘Do I need to explain that all over again, Lisette? You are here under sufferance and this is not work for ladies. When the time comes I will tell you how we plan to effect your brother’s release, but until then I beg you to contain yourself in patience.’

‘Very well, but I hope it will be soon.’

When the meal was finished, Sam left the house and Jay changed into the shabby clothes he had worn the night before and went out again. If he had ever imagined that rescuing Michel Giradet from prison and carrying him in triumph to England under the noses of the Revolutionaries would be an adventure to be savoured, he thought it no more. It was fraught
with difficulty and danger, made worse by the presence of Lisette. He worried that her independent spirit and penchant for going out on her own could lead her into trouble. Her meeting with Wentworth, however innocent, was worrying, too. If her true identity were discovered, they would all be in trouble.

She had denied giving it to Wentworth and, whatever else she was, she was honest, so that was something to be thankful for. But had the man guessed? Had he waylaid her in order to confirm his suspicions? How did he know where she would be and at what time? What did the man know about how Comte Giradet had arrived in England? What was his game? He might trust Lisette, but he definitely did not trust her uncle and the more she knew of the escape plans, the more vulnerable she was. He had to hold her at arm’s length and try to keep her in check for her own good, though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

Harry, Nat and Joe were waiting for him at the Cross Keys. None seemed any the worse for the previous night’s carousal. They were all dressed in the rough garb prevalent in Paris at that time. They had glasses of wine on the table in front of them and were studying a map of
Paris. ‘I don’t know how accurate this is,’ Harry said when Jay joined them. ‘We will have to test it out. Our escape route must be planned, every inch of road, every corner, every alley.’

‘We have to get the man out of gaol first.’

‘What is the good of that if we don’t know what to do with him when we have him? No, my friend, we have to work backwards.’

Jay conceded the wisdom of that. ‘Sam has gone to reconnoitre the prison. If he is allowed to see Giradet, he might learn more and can tell him to be ready.’

‘Good,’ Harry said. ‘We will need your carriage and some good horses. Nat will find us all suitable disguises and Joe will ride ahead and bespoke fresh horses along our route and safe houses where we might rest a while.’

‘The fly in the ointment is Gerald Wentworth,’ Jay said. ‘He and Lisette met this morning and though she says it was by accident and they only passed the time of day, it is worrying. He is sly enough to wheedle information from her without her even knowing he had.’

‘Why would he want to?’ Nat asked.

‘That I do not know. Lisette met him in the Rue St Honore not far from Robespierre’s lodgings. I am wondering if he has some contact with that gentleman.’

‘Are you worried enough to think we should cancel our project?’

‘No, I must go through with it for Lisette’s sake, but if you think the risk is too great, then I beg you all not to hesitate, but return to England at once.’

‘Certainly not,’ Harry said. ‘But Wentworth will bear watching. He knows us too well, Jay, so perhaps Nat can keep an eye on him.’

‘I will do that,’ Nat said, then to Jay, ‘Do you know where he is lodging?’

‘No, but start in the Rue St Honore,’ Jay said. ‘You cannot miss him in the street, he dresses like the English aristocrat in frills and flounces and high heels. He is even more flamboyant than you are, Harry, though no one would think it to look at you now.’

Harry was used to being teased about his dress and, laughing, stood up. ‘Come, let us go on our perambulation. We will start from the barrier on the road to Pontoise and work our way back to La Force, taking careful note of side alleys, unoccupied houses and the presence of troops. Joe and Nat, off you go. Take as much gold coin as you think you will need, but beware of robbers. We will meet here again at five o’clock this evening.’

All four left the tavern.

Lisette decided to go back to the court and listen to more trials. Contrary to what Madame Gilbert had said, not all the accused were condemned. She wanted to make a note of the successful defences; such knowledge might be useful if Michel ever came to trial. After listening to a dozen trials, which for the most part only lasted a few minutes, she came to the conclusion that they were not based on logic or jurisprudence so much as the mood of the jury and she felt many had been bribed. That might have to be their way forwards.

She went back to the Embassy to wait for Jay to return. She had hardly taken off her hat and coat when Madame Gilbert came to announce a visitor. ‘Shall I show him in?’ she asked.

It was the visitor himself who answered. ‘No need,’ he said. ‘I am already in.’

Lisette sprang to her feet. ‘Mr Wentworth!’

‘Mr Wentworth is too formal, don’t you think?’ he said pleasantly as the
concierge
withdrew. ‘Why not call me Uncle?’

‘Uncle,’ she repeated, her heart thumping.

‘Yes, Lisette, I am your uncle, but I am sure you knew that, didn’t you?’

‘If I did, what does it signify? You turned
your back on my mother, cut her out of the family, so why should I acknowledge you?’

‘Not I, Lisette, that was my father. I was only a young man at the time and had no hand in the decision. On the contrary, I was very fond of Louise.’

‘But you did nothing to keep in touch with her, you never visited, you never wrote to her.’

‘I believed that was her wish. We did not turn our backs on her, she turned her back on us.’ He looked about him. ‘Are you not going to invite me to be seated?’

She was in a quandary. If Jay came back now, there would be an unholy row and she dreaded the consequences, but she could not send the man away, not because he was her uncle, but because he might have news of Michel. She indicated a chair. ‘Please be seated.’

He flung up his coat and sat down. ‘That is better. Now that we have established our relationship, we can talk of your brother.’

‘Is that how you found out who I was?’

He chuckled. ‘I had to go and see the young man after you told me his name. He is my nephew, after all. As soon as I saw him, I knew. You are as like as two peas in a pod.’

‘He is my twin. What did he say?’

‘Naturally he begged me to help him.’

‘And can you?’

‘I am prepared to try, but you know he was very surprised to learn you had married Commodore Drymore. Why did you do that, Lisette?’

‘Why does one usually marry? We fell in love.’

‘After he had liberated your father from gaol and sailed away with you.’

‘Whatever gave you that idea?’

‘It did not take a genius at mathematics to work it out.’

‘Oh.’ The worst had happened. The danger had increased a thousandfold and it was all her fault. She wished herself anywhere but where she was. She longed for Jay to come home at the same time as she dreaded it.

He smiled. ‘You see, my dear, I am in possession of information that could send you both to Madame Guillotine.’ He paused to watch her face, while she tried not to show her dismay. ‘However, I may not make use of it.’

‘You want something from me.’ It was said with a heavy heart.

‘Let us say you could provide some names which I can exchange for your brother’s release.’

‘Names?’

‘Of those Englishmen who have become a
thorn in the side of the Revolutionary government.’

‘I do not know what you mean.’

‘Come now, I think you do. Jay Drymore is one, that I know, and so, I believe, do you.’

‘I know nothing of the kind,’ she retorted, pretending anger. ‘My husband is an envoy for the British Government. I told you before that he would not jeopardise his position for the sake of one prisoner and that still holds good.’

‘Not even when that prisoner is his brotherin-law?’ he queried with a twisted smile. ‘I know you are anxious to set your brother free and I cannot believe a man would turn a deaf ear to the entreaties of the woman he professes to love.’

‘He is a man of strong principles.’

He laughed. ‘What about your principles, Lisette? Where do they lie? You are a Frenchwoman, your loyalties should lie with France, not with someone who will abandon you as soon as your presence becomes inconvenient. for your brother’s sake I urge you to consider what I have said. His fate is in your hands. I know for a fact that his trial has only been delayed because the court is waiting for Henri Canard to come to Paris to give evidence. He is bringing the two gaolers with him who were
guarding your father. They, of course, are eager to save their own skins.’

With every word he uttered her heart sank further. He had her in a vise from which she could see no way out. Betray Jay and save her brother or remain silent and see Michel go to the guillotine. ‘And what do you hope to gain by this, Mr Wentworth?’ she asked, desperate to turn the tables on him. ‘You are an Englishman and yet you consort with Revolutionaries and lecture me on patriotism.’

He laughed. ‘France is not at war with England, only with those who interfere in her internal affairs, people like your husband.’

‘If you know so much, why do you need me?’

‘Because there are others besides Drymore at work. Not only will they not stop at saving a few
aristo
heads, but even more importantly they will be taking thousands of gold coin and precious jewels out of the country, wealth it can ill afford to lose. There is a strong belief in the Department of Justice that these men mean to free Louis and the rest of the royal family. Evidence has been uncovered, letters found in a chest hidden behind panelling in the royal apartments in the Tuileries Palace, which point to counter-revolution and an attempt to regain the throne. If they are published there will be a
hue and cry among the populace that will outdo any previous riots and massacres. Thousands will die. The French Government is naturally anxious to avoid that.’

‘What is that to do with you?’

‘Any involvement of British subjects in the conspiracy is bound to have diplomatic consequences. It might mean war. I, as a loyal subject of King George, wish to prevent that at all costs and if it means the sacrifice of a few English lives, then it will be worth it.’

He sounded so convincing she found herself wondering how much truth there was in what he was saying. If it were true, it made the rescue of Michel insignificant compared to the wider issues. Did Jay know this? Did Lord Portman? Was that why his lordship had come to Paris, nothing to do with Michel?

‘I do not see what this has to do with me or my husband,’ she said, trying hard to sound cool, though she was shaking and wished fervently her visitor would go away and allow her to think.