Isabella Rockwell's War (21 page)

Isabella
turned and left the room. Outside the door she pressed her burning
face to the cool stone wall.

Why did John
Conroy have a bottle of Calabar Bean poison on his desk? Was it he
who tried to smother her last night? Had he thought she was Alix?
Or had he thought she was herself, just a street urchin to be done
away with when she become too troublesome?

Isabella felt
sick.

Fear and worry
weighed on her heavily as she made her way to Alix’s room. Alix’s
door opened and shut and Mrs Jolyon came down the corridor toward
her.

“Good morning,
dearest. I’ve heard you’ve had a lovely letter. Will you walk with
us this morning and tell us all about it?”

Isabella, took
one look at Mrs Jolyon’s kind, open face and knew she couldn’t
carry her secret on her own. It was too big for her. She had to
tell someone.

“Mrs Jolyon,”
Isabella took her hands and pulled her into an empty room.

“Why Isabella,
what is it?” All the worry and fear of the night’s adventures
poured out of her in a garbled rush, as if through a dam, which had
broken. Everything except the real reason she’d been in the Blue
Salon.

Mrs Jolyon’s
face turned from pink to red, to white.

“I cannot
believe what I am hearing. And you? Are you all right? You’re not
hurt?” She put her arms around Isabella, who relaxed into their
warmth.

“No I am fine.
I was lucky to have my pouch with me otherwise things might have
been very different.”

“Thank heavens
you did. I cannot believe this.”

Mrs jolyon’s
face was screwed up in concentration.

“The question
is who on earth would wish to harm Alix? At first it seems there is
no one, but…” Mrs Jolyon was frowning when Isabella looked up at
her.

“I know what
you’re going to say.

“What?” Mrs
Jolyon looked bemused.

“Prince
Ernest.”

Mrs Jolyon
looked at Isabella sideways from under her lashes. “Why did you
think that?”

Isabella
scratched her head. “He has the most to gain. I heard him arguing
with the king too. He wanted Alix to stay at Kensington and not
move to St James’s Palace.”

Mrs Jolyon
nodded.

“Mmm, so she
would be under his nose. He served in India, did he not?” Isabella
nodded. “So he could have known of the properties of the Calabar
Bean?” Isabella nodded again. She hadn’t thought of this before,
though it was obvious now. “He has little money,” Mrs Jolyon
continued, almost to herself. “And though he has a great reputation
he has no army commission at present. Some men are only useful at
wartime; I think Prince Ernest is one of them. Back here, he is
like a fish out of water.”

“But to cause
harm to Alix, his own niece?”

Mrs Jolyon
looked out the window into the ill-lit grey morning.

“People have
killed for less.”

Isabella
shivered. “What should we do now?”

Mrs Jolyon sat
up, businesslike. “We need to tell King William, so the princess
will be safe.”

“What about
John Conroy and the duchess? Shouldn’t we tell them? They might
believe some of this if it comes from you.”

Mrs Jolyon
took Isabella’s hands. “Sadly, I have little influence with them.
Don’t forget, I am only a servant. But don’t worry. You and I can
keep Alix safe until tonight and then, as soon as the king arrives,
we can ask for an audience.”

“Do you think
we can? I mean; can we keep her safe? Don’t we need some guards or
something?”

Mrs Jolyon
shook her head. “I think there is wisdom in stealth at present.
Ernest does not know we suspect him. We are forewarned and isn’t
being forewarned, forearmed?”

Isabella
narrowed her eyes. “So we know what’s going on, but he
doesn’t?”

“Exactly. It
will be him who believes he must sneak around, not realizing we are
watching his every move. It gives us an advantage and then we will
catch him. And if we catch him, Alix will be safe.”

“Where is he
now?” Isabella felt a sudden surge of fear. Where was Alix if she
and Mrs Jolyon were in here?

It was as if
Mrs Jolyon read her mind.

“It’s alright
dearest, Bea is showing her some feathers for her hairstyle
tonight. Still, we had best get back. After this, we mustn’t leave
her at all for the rest of the day. We must make sure he has no
opportunity to drag her into some dark corner!”

Isabella
looked shocked. “He wouldn’t surely…?”

Mrs Jolyon
looked sad as she stood with a rustle of her skirts. It was with
both a lighter and heavier heart that Isabella followed her from
the room.

Alix stood in
the middle of her dressing room, surrounded by dresses in jewelled
colours.

“Isabella,
thank heavens you’re back. Where have you been?”

Isabella
walked over to the window so Alix couldn’t see her face. The strain
of the last twenty-four hours was starting to tell and, though
relieved, Isabella still felt close to tears. She longed for the
ball now, because as soon as it started responsibility would no
longer be hers. Ernest wouldn’t dare do anything with all those
people around. It was the time between then and now, which was
going to be the problem. The time when Alix might walk a lonely
corridor without giving it a second thought or pick up a poisoned
apple and there would be nothing Isabella could do about it. Like
Abhaya, Alix would die and it would be Isabella’s fault. Isabella
knew she wouldn’t be able to bear it.

“I was just at
the stables.” A large bang made Isabella jump out of her skin.

“What was
that?”

She couldn’t
believe it when Alix laughed.

“Prince
Ernest. Shooting practice in the grounds, every Tuesday, including
New Year’s Eve. No wonder he’s deaf as a post.”

“Is he?”
Isabella was regaining her composure by looking out the window, but
she could see nothing but freezing fog and trees like black spread
fingers. Was there any other colour in this country other than
grey?

“Why do you
think he shouts all the time? Now, what do you think?” Alix had on
a pale, pink, satin bell of a dress with an ostrich feather, dyed
to match, in her hair.”

“It’s
beautiful, but I think I need to see you in all of them before I
can tell you which is best.”

Alix looked
crestfallen.

“But I’ve just
tried them all on.”

Isabella was
firm. “Well, you’ll just have to try them all on again.”

Alix called
for Bea and Isabella let out a sigh of relief. That would take up
an hour or so, which only left six more to go. Six hours between
Alix and safety, and six hours between her and freedom. As soon as
she’d spoken with Mrs Jolyon and the King William, she would enjoy
the ball. Then at ten o’clock, she would slip away unnoticed, take
the Caravaggio and meet Zach. The boat would leave at midnight.
Just enough time to give the painting to the fence, and get to the
docks.

She would have
fulfilled all her obligations. Alex would be safe and Zachariah and
the children would have their money.

“Isabella, if
you’re not going to look at these dresses I’m damned if I’m going
to try them all on again, when I know I like the pink one
best.”

Isabella sat
up. “Sorry Alix, I’m watching now.”

So the morning
passed. The fire crackled merrily, and Isabella’s heart eased as
she saw how happy Alix was to be leaving this place. Surely nothing
bad would befall any of them? Hadn’t they both had enough bad luck
for the time being?

Chapter 11:
Freedom

Night came.
Isabella was exhausted with the vigilance she and Mrs Jolyon had
kept throughout the day. Every time Alix had wanted to go and look
at the decorations downstairs, they’d managed to divert her
attention. Whenever Alix claimed she could smell roasting chestnuts
or melting chocolate and shouldn’t they go and have just a little
taste, Isabella and Mrs Jolyon talked her out of it.

“She’s going
to guess we’re up to something soon. She’s not stupid,” hissed
Isabella whilst Alix was packing underclothes with Bea in readiness
for tomorrow.

“I know, but
what else can we do? Anyway, she probably does realise something’s
up. She just doesn’t want to know.”

“I don’t blame
her,” replied Isabella.

Mrs Jolyon
looked sad. “Poor child. What a hard life she has led. I’d like to
pack her up and take her back to India with me, where she could run
around with Christopher and catch fish in the creek. She’d be good
company for him and he for her.”

Isabella
smiled. “That’s exactly how I feel. As if she’s too nice to have to
live life in this mausoleum.”

“She’s had no
choice. It’s amazing she’s turned out as well as she has. If
Christopher turns out half so well, I shall be very pleased.” Mrs
Jolyon’s face was filled with love.

“You must miss
him so much, but I am so glad Alix has had you here to support her.
She’s very lucky.”

Mrs Jolyon
hugged her. “Come now, you dress and then I will dress when you are
ready. That way she will always have one of us with her.”

“I can’t wait
to see Ernest’s face when he sees us,” said Isabella.

Mrs Jolyon
nodded. “I know, but don’t forget, he’s had the whole day to wrap
his mind around the fact his plan was foiled. He would have been
expecting an outcry since early this morning, and there hasn’t been
one. Run along now and get dressed. I’ll be here.”

Though loathe
to put on the dress from last night, she did, marvelling it didn’t
show up more of the trauma it had been through last night, unlike
her, whose reflection was hollow-eyed with stress and exhaustion.
Even having her hair professionally dressed hadn’t helped much. Not
that it mattered. No one was going to be looking at her.

Finally, as
the grandfather clock outside struck six, they were ready. Princess
Alixandrina beautiful in pink, Mrs Jolyon, pale but composed in
midnight blue and Isabella, trying to look jolly, in the golden
taffeta. Their wide skirts snapped back and forth as they descended
the staircase, Isabella’s eyes straining for the first glance of
Prince Ernest’s face. She could feel Mrs Jolyon doing the same.

“Ladies!” John
Conroy came to the bottom of the stairs. “You look magnificent.”
Isabella could barely bring herself to look at him.

“Now,” he
continued. “There’s been a change of plan. Your majesty, your
mother would like to speak to you for a moment.” Mrs Jolyon and
Isabella hung back to allow Alix past to the salon, but Mr Conroy
said, “No, no, ladies. It is a conversation the duchess and I wish
you to hear also. Please go through and be seated.”

The duchess
was resplendent in black satin with her hair piled high and
diamonds at her throat and wrists. The Blue Salon looked very
different from last night with a leaping fire and the sparkle of
champagne in crystal goblets. A string quartet played in the
hallway and strains of a merry gavotte came through the air.

John Conroy
stood beside the fireplace as they were each given a drink and then
took sat on the powder blue sofa.

However Alix
was not to be fooled.

“What is it
Mama? What’s going on?’

The duchess
smiled, for once a smile without a plan behind it.

“Just wait one
moment….” The door was flung open and, to Isabella’s horror, in
came Prince Ernest, medals, boots and sword all polished to a high
shine. He took a glass from the tray a servant proffered.

“Well then.”
He looked at Alix and Isabella closely. If he was surprised to see
either of them, it wasn’t obvious. “I have good news.”

“What uncle?
Have you got a new dog?”

“No,” he
raised his brows. “Though I wouldn’t mind one…. No, it’s far more
important than that Alixandrina.” Alix looked up at his use of her
full name. “I owe you an apology.” Alix looked blank.

“How do you
mean?”

Prince
Ernest’s voice was gentle.

“After your
accident in the carriage. You’ve been pretty upset since then
haven’t you?” Alix looked down at her hands and nodded. “Isabella
here has been so worried, she even came to see Mr Conroy this
morning to tell of her fears.”

Alix looked at
Isabella.

“So that’s
where you were.” Isabella looked over at Mr Conroy. There was no
point in denying it.

“Well, I am
glad she did your majesty, because it alerted us to something which
had been going on under our noses for some time. It wasn’t until
this morning, that I finally got the evidence I needed.”

Alix looked
confused. “I’m sorry uncle. I’m not following you.”

The duchess
now got up and sat between Alix and Isabella. She took Alix’s hand.
“Dearest, try to be brave.” Alix shot a look at Isabella. “When
your wheel fell off the other night…”