Supervising Sally (19 page)

Phoebe smiled to herself to see how Sally, formerly quite ignorant of and uninterested in politics, was now so well informed. It must be the influence of Sir Henry and her other soldier friends.

Zachary paused as he saw Reginald Bradshaw on the steps of the house where he had his rooms. Was the man asking for him? He was tempted to turn round and escape, for he found the man tedious in the extreme. Then he decided he might as well speak to him, or the fellow would be pursuing him all over Brussels.

‘Ah, my dear Wrekin,' Reginald exclaimed, as he turned away from the door and found Zachary just behind him. ‘I was coming to consult with you.'

‘Yes?' Zachary knew he sounded unwelcoming. ‘I would ask you in for a drink,' he added, ‘but I have to go out again immediately.'

‘No matter, no matter, some other time perhaps. I wanted to ask you, as someone who may have better intelligence than us mere civilians, if you felt it was safe for my sisters to remain in Brussels. They are so anxious to attend young Sally Benton's ball. I tell them that if you permit her to remain they will be perfectly safe, but the silly pair are in a twitter of apprehension.'

‘I don't think they are in any danger,' Zachary said. How he wished he could frighten them away, but it would not serve if at the same time he maintained it was safe for Sally and Phoebe to stay.

‘Well, we will remain for the time being. I had thought to remove to Ghent, now that King Louis has set up his court there. I have made so many contacts during my business discussions, there would be no shortage of entertainments.'

‘It is closer to the coast if you decide to go to England after all,' Zachary said hopefully.

‘Indeed. But I also have dear Phoebe to consider.'

‘Phoebe? She is safe enough with Sir William.'

‘At the moment, but I would not be doing my duty to my
sister-in-law if I permitted her to remain here while danger threatened.'

‘You mean you would want to take her back to England with you?' Zachary asked, and suppressed a smile as he thought of Phoebe's probable reaction to such a suggestion.

‘Of course.'

‘Would she agree?' Zachary asked innocently.

‘She would obey me. After all, she has no father, no closer relative to care for her. Thank you for your reassurance. Now I must permit you to go about your business. There must be so much for you to do at a time like this.'

Zachary stared after him, wishing he might be present at such a confrontation. Phoebe would refuse. But what if Sir William decided Sally should go back to England too? Suddenly the prospect of not seeing Phoebe regularly, not being able to partner her at balls, or ride out with her, disturbed him. Of course, if there really was any danger, he would want her safely away from Brussels, but there was no real threat, yet. He turned and slowly climbed the stairs and went into his rooms, where he poured himself a glass of Madeira and sat in a chair near the window, staring unseeingly at the scene outside.

After Sally's moment of home sickness, Phoebe was not entirely surprised that she had another migraine the following day. She refused to eat anything at breakfast, sipped at a cup of tea, and then said she was going back to bed and did not want to be disturbed.

‘Please, Phoebe, all I need is to sleep, and I will probably be better this evening.'

Phoebe had plenty to do, making last minute arrangements for the ball with Madame Antoine, so she walked round to that
lady's house and helped her direct the servants who were decorating the ballroom. Large pots with tall trees had been hired, and these were being set out to separate the chairs at the side of the room, creating small alcoves for half-a-dozen people.

‘We don't want to make them too small, or the chaperons will be accusing us of condoning illicit meetings,' Madame said, laughing.

‘They can hardly be secret when anyone in the main part of the room can see who is there,' Phoebe replied.

During the past few weeks, while she had been working with Madame Antoine to arrange the ball, she had come to like the woman enormously. Her husband, Phoebe learned, had been killed several years ago in a hunting accident. He had, she mentioned one day, been at Oxford university at the same time as Sir William, before the French Revolution, and they had been good friends there.

So that might account for Sir William's friendship with the lady. It might, after all, be just that, and not the liaison people suspected. Phoebe wondered whether Zachary knew this, and whether it made any difference to his fears that Sir William was contemplating a divorce.

It was late afternoon when she returned home, and the moment she entered the house Annie appeared.

‘Miss Phoebe, I can't make Miss Sally answer me.'

‘She said she didn't want to be disturbed, Annie.'

Annie nodded. ‘I know, but she's been abed for hours now, her headache must be better. And she would want to have this straight away.'

Annie was waving a letter around.

‘What is it?'

‘A letter from her mama, and she's been complaining at not having one, so I thought she would like to get it as soon as possible. But she won't answer me, and the door's locked. Miss Phoebe, I'm worried she's too ill to talk.'

Phoebe thought Annie was making a fuss about nothing. If Sally did not want to be disturbed, it was quite likely she would refuse to answer. But she could see the maid was worried, so she followed her up to Sally's room and tapped on the door.

‘Sally, please answer. There is a letter here from your mama.'

There was no reply. Annie bent down and peered through the keyhole. ‘The key's been taken out,' she said.

‘Well, Sally could have put it somewhere else.'

‘Why should she? Oh, Jeanette,' she said as the maid appeared, carrying a pile of linen upstairs, ‘is there another key to this room?'

Jeanette laughed. ‘All the keys of the bedrooms are the same, they fit one another.'

Phoebe went straight to the door of her own room and abstracted the key. She slid it into the keyhole and it turned easily.

‘Quietly,' she cautioned Annie, ‘just in case she is deep asleep.'

She opened the door and looked in. The curtains were drawn, but a shaft of sunlight came through a gap and fell across the bed. It was unoccupied, and undisturbed. Unless Sally had remade it, which was highly unlikely, she had not been in it today.

The gown she had been wearing at breakfast was cast over the back of a chair, and her slippers were beside it. Phoebe looked round the room.

‘Annie, stop wringing your hands, and let's see if we can discover what is missing.'

Annie, nodding, went swiftly through Sally's clothes. She turned a puzzled look towards Phoebe.

‘Her riding boots have gone, but her habit's still here. And her cloak's gone. None of her gowns is missing. I don't understand. '

‘I think I do! Did she bring breeches with her?'

Annie looked scandalized. ‘Breeches?' she asked. ‘Of course not! Why should she do such a thing?'

‘At home,' Phoebe explained, ‘Sally used to ride out in men's clothes, because she preferred to ride astride. Did you pack all her clothes when we came?'

‘Dressed like a boy! Well, I never!'

‘Did you always pack for her?'

Annie took a deep breath ‘Pack for her? Not everything, Miss Phoebe. There were so many new gowns, and she wore some of them in London, before we came here, so there was constant packing and unpacking. I couldn't remember what was packed and what was not.'

‘Then I think we will discover she has gone riding, secretly, because she knew she would not be allowed to if her father and I knew.'

‘Her papa will be furious! He'll send her home!'

Phoebe nodded. ‘I'm afraid he might.'

‘Then the lass'll miss her ball. How could she be so silly!'

The thought crossed Phoebe's mind that if Sally were sent home in disgrace she would also be packed off to England, and having to look for another position. She struggled with her conscience, trying to decide whether it was for her own benefit that she was inclined to overlook Sally's stupidity.

‘If no one knows, there will be no scandal. It would be a pity for her to be sent home now, but we have to stop this. I'll threaten to tell her father if she does it again. And we'll take her breeches away from her!'

Phoebe fetched a book from her own room and sat down to wait in Sally's. She sent Annie away with strict instructions not to say anything to the other servants about Sally's
absence. She used the key of her room to lock herself in, and waited.

It was only a short time afterwards that she heard stealthy footsteps approaching, Sally had, she assumed, crept up the back stairs while the servants were occupied in the kitchens preparing dinner.

She laid down her book, and sat facing the door. The key was turned quietly, and the door opened slowly. Sally, swathed in a long cloak that hid her breeches, slipped in, still watching the landing outside. She closed the door softly, inserted her key, and locked it. Then she turned round.

‘Welcome home, Sally,' Phoebe said.

Sally gasped. ‘What – how did you get in here?' she demanded, trying, unsuccessfully, to conceal her breeches with the cloak.

‘More importantly, where have you been? And dressed in breeches?' Phoebe asked.

Sally took a few steps towards her. ‘Phoebe, you know I detest having to ride side saddle.'

‘Yes, I know that. Where have you been, and with whom?'

Sally gave a deep sigh, and threw her cloak across the bed. She sank to her knees beside Phoebe and tried to clasp her hand. Phoebe gently removed it.

‘Where, and with whom?' she repeated.

‘Only with Henry,' Sally said at last. ‘No one else knows.'

‘So you go out riding with just one young man, in breeches, and think because no one else knows it doesn't matter? Have you so soon forgotten George Cowper? I think you promised then, when you were saved from the consequences of your folly, to behave properly in future.'

‘You've been riding alone with Zachary Walton!'

‘Not in breeches. Besides, I am older, not a green girl.'

‘I'm not a green girl, Phoebe, I know what I want! This time it's different! I really do love Henry!'

‘That does not excuse such behaviour. Sally, don't you see, if it were known you would be ruined. You would have no chance of a good match.'

‘But I have Henry. I don't want anyone else, and he wants me.'

‘An honest man would have approached your father.'

Sally flared up at that. ‘Henry is honest! I asked him not to speak yet, or he would have seen Papa weeks ago. Phoebe, don't you understand, we no sooner set eyes on one another than we knew. He is the only one for me, and it's the same for him.'

‘Perhaps. But unless you promise me not to repeat this, I will have to tell your father, and you know what he would do.'