The King's Falcon (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 3) (40 page)

‘It is when you’re acting like a ninny.’

Athenais heaved an exasperated sigh.

‘I’m not.
 
And, to be honest, I don’t see where the problem lies.
 
He may need something in the night so someone ought to be nearby.’

‘Somebody, yes.
 
You, no.’

‘But
why?
 
I’m not going to slide into bed with him again, if that’s what you think.
 
And he’s hardly in any condition to pounce on me – even supposing he wanted to.
 
As for my reputation … God, Pauline!
 
You can’t surely be worried about
that?
’

‘Difficult though it may be for you to comprehend, my objections have nothing at all to do with you.
 
It’s the Colonel I’m thinking of.’

‘Are you saying I’m not?’

‘No.
 
You’re not.
 
If you were, you’d have realised a couple of things.
 
If he needs something in the middle of the night – most probably to relieve himself – do you honestly think he’s going to call you?
 
Of course he’s not.
 
He’d sooner lie there in torment than embarrass himself that way.’

Recalling what had happened earlier in the day, Athenais flushed a little and drew patterns on a plate with her knife.

‘You might also,’ resumed Pauline, ‘spare a thought for how hard this is for him.
 
The pain he’s enduring – bad as it undoubtedly is – is only part of it.
 
Being trapped in bed is going to drive him mad.
 
He’s not used to needing help of any kind only now he can’t do without it. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, he’s supposed to rely on
you
to perform personal tasks for him?
 
Really?’

‘I – I hadn’t thought of it quite like that.’

‘You hadn’t thought about it at
all
.
 
You just want to hover around him like a lovesick schoolgirl, waiting for him to fall head over heels in love with you.’

‘That’s neither fair nor true!’

‘Actually, it’s both.
 
At what point was it ever going to occur to you to allow the poor man a shred or two of dignity?’
 
Pauline waited and, when no reply was forthcoming, said, ‘Does he know this is what you were planning?’

‘Yes.’

‘And?’

Athenais sighed.
 
‘And he told me not to do it.’

‘There you go, then.
 
Pity you didn’t listen.
 
But you
will
listen to me – or I’ll wash my hands of you. For as long as Ashley lies in your room, you’ll share mine. And Jem can sleep in the closet, ready to attend to any nocturnal requirements.’

*
 
*
 
*

Ashley took the opium as prescribed until the following day and then refused to take any more.

‘Sure about that?’ asked Pauline sceptically. She was engaged in changing the dressing on his thigh and, though the surrounding inflammation was no worse, the wound itself was still an angry red and inclined to seep a little blood.
 
‘You’re not telling me you’re no longer in any pain.’

‘No.
 
But it’s not as bad as it was and I’d prefer not to start relying on opiates.’
 
He managed a faint smile and gestured to where she was gently applying the doctor’s salve.
 
‘I’d also prefer you to let me start dealing with this myself.
 
I could, you know.’

‘I daresay.
 
But it’s a bit late for maidenly modesty, wouldn’t you say?’

Ashley wasn’t used to being seen through so easily.
 
He also wasn’t used to lying in bed wearing nothing but his shirt with a sheet draped across his lap while a female attended to an area of his person only a few scant inches from his groin.
 
He said evasively, ‘You shouldn’t have to do this.’

‘I don’t
have
to do it – I
choose
to.
 
I like to see for myself that it hasn’t turned green or started to suppurate – or anything else unpleasant that I can’t trust you to tell me about.’
 
She paused, reaching for clean bandages.
 
‘And at least I’ve spared you the ministrations of Sister Athenais.
 
She still won’t stir from the house, of course – but at least she’s not sleeping in the dressing-room.’

‘For which I am eternally grateful.’

‘Yes.
 
I thought you would be.’ Her head remained bent as she began applying the dressing.
 
‘Did she say anything to you?’

He shook his head.

‘I haven’t spoken to her since yesterday afternoon.
 
But since Jem doesn’t seem to have come across a selection of female undergarments, I can only assume that she retrieved them while I slept.’

‘Mm.’ Pauline glanced up, briefly. ‘How much to you remember of those minutes when I was stitching you up?’

‘Was it only minutes?’
 
He thought for a moment.
 
‘Aside from the worst pain I’ve ever endured, I don’t remember much at all.’

‘Then you won’t recall Athenais passing out.’

‘No.’ A frown entered his eyes.
 
‘Did she?’

‘Yes.
 
She was sitting at your side, very carefully
not
watching what I was doing … but that didn’t stop her dropping off the bed in a dead faint.’

‘She has a weak stomach?’ he asked, his tone deliberately careless.

‘Not usually.
 
But then, at the time, she thought you might die.’

He now knew exactly what she was telling him and it caused something in his chest to tighten – though whether from joy or dismay, he didn’t know.
 
He said, ‘I’m sorry for that.
 
It is … it’s good of her to care about a mere lodger.’

Her glance said that calling himself a ‘mere lodger’ was definitely over-doing it.

‘Yes.
 
Isn’t it?
 
So when she apologises for not immediately understanding your needs correctly – and she will – you’ll make it easy for her.
 
And don’t make the mistake of looking for hidden meanings.
 
Athenais’s artifice is all reserved for the stage.’ Pauline dropped the dirty dressing into the bowl of water and stood up.
 
‘I’ve been keeping visitors to a minimum but Francis has wanted to speak to you since yesterday.
 
Shall I tell him he can come up?’

‘I suppose you’d better.
 
Jem, too, if he’s here. They’ll both want chapter and verse on what happened the other night – so I suppose I might as well get it over with.’

Pauline eyed him narrowly.

‘Why don’t you want to talk about it?’

‘In most respects, because there are only three points worth mentioning,’ he shrugged.
 
‘I was attacked; I was wounded; I’m not dead.
 
It hardly makes riveting telling, does it?’

‘Don’t they say that the devil is in the detail?’

‘And it is.
 
Which is why
I
generally say that, unless there’s a very good reason to share them, most details are best kept to oneself.’

*
 
*
 
*

Francis and Jem entered the room to find Ashley shaved, wearing a clean shirt and looking rather more like Colonel Peverell than they’d expected.
 
Unsmilingly, he told Jem to shut the door and indicated that they should both make themselves comfortable.
 
Francis lounged on the end of the bed; Jem perched on the window-seat.

‘You already have the gist of what happened,’ said Ashley.
 
‘You’ll also have worked out that it was probably at the behest of d’Auxerre because one of the assailants was his creature.
 
I don’t know who the other two were but we can assume they fall into the same category.
 
The fellow who survived may still be having difficulty walking since I did my best to relocate his balls.
 
If you come across someone like that it might be worth asking a question or two – but we’re unlikely to be that lucky.’
 
He looked at Jem.
 
‘Henri de Vauvallon, the man Cyrano killed, was of particular interest.
 
Yellow hair, an earring and fancier clothes than you see on most women.’

‘Ah.’ Jem grunted.
 
‘Him.’
 
And then, ‘Pity.’

‘Exactly.’

Francis looked from one to the other of them and said, ‘I’m obviously missing something.
 
And though I’m aware that the two of you have your secrets --’

‘This isn’t personal, Francis.
 
Ned Hyde asked me to look into something and demanded total discretion.
 
Jem has been helping me but even he has no idea exactly what we’re looking for and why.
 
Present circumstances, however, mean that this will have to change.’

‘Dear me,’ drawled Francis.
 
‘Does this mean that Jem and I are to be allowed into the secret?
 
How delightful.’

Ashley hadn’t seen that particular incarnation for some time and, just now, he found it intensely irritating.
 

‘If we could dispense with the theatricals, I’d be grateful.
 
The position is this.
 
Hyde received a communication suggesting that there is proof that the King married Lucy Walter.
 
I, personally, doubt this because I don’t believe there was any marriage.
 
But naturally, if such a document
does
exist – even if it’s a forgery – Hyde wants it in his own possession rather than Cromwell’s.
 
And so, in the absence of any better ideas, Jem and I have been keeping an eye on Mistress Walter’s visitors – of whom the late Monsieur de Vauvallon was one.
 
This might have been helpful information if only the wretched fellow wasn’t dead.’

‘Helpful how?’ asked Francis.
 
And then, with faint impatience, ‘I’m assuming you’ve been keeping a watch on the exquisite Lucy because you suspect she’s been careless with her papers.
 
But from what you’ve said so far, you’ve nothing significant to show for it.
 
I think I can suggest something better than that.’

Jem snorted quietly to himself but Ashley said, ‘What?
 
The whole thing has the appearance of a wild goose chase so I’m willing to clutch at any straw – however feeble.’

Francis smiled and said simply, ‘Celia.’

‘Ah.
 
I withdraw my last remark.’

‘Don’t be hasty.
 
Celia is friendly with Lucy Walter.
 
And both being fairly stupid women, all they do when they get together is gossip.
 
I wouldn’t be surprised if Celia couldn’t provide us with a list of every man Lucy has … entertained … for the last year.’

‘Sure about that, are you?’ asked Jem sceptically.
 
‘She ain’t been visiting that I knows of.’

Ignoring this, Ashley looked at Francis, his expression thoughtful but unconvinced.

‘I’d got the impression that you and Celia weren’t currently on the best of terms – and that your stage debut would effectively destroy any residual goodwill.’

‘And it will – when she recognises me.
 
So far she hasn’t looked under the helmet.’

This time Jem laughed outright.

Sighing, Ashley said, ‘Thank you Jem.
 
I think we can agree that that might have been better put.’
 
And to Francis, ‘She’s seen the
Mariamne
?’

‘Twice.
 
She came to the first night with Hugo and a couple I didn’t recognise.
 
Then again yesterday with the same couple as before and a fellow with an eye-patch.’

Silence stretched out on invisible threads as Ashley’s and Jem’s eyes met and locked.

‘What?’ asked Francis, looking from one to the other of them.
 
‘Come on.
 
If I’ve said something important, I’d quite like to be given due credit.’

‘The fellow with the eye-patch is someone that I, Sir Edward Hyde and the King all know.
 
At this point, I’m not prepared to give you a name.
 
Suffice it to say he’s one of our small but merry band-in-exile.
 
The trouble is, Jem has recently seen him visiting Lucy Walter which – considering that His Majesty is striving to keep the lady at arms’ length and also discourage her from creating further scandals – is rather hard to explain.’

‘Is it?
 
I’d have thought Mistress Lucy’s proclivities make the answer obvious.’

‘And it might be,’ agreed Ashley.
 
Except that Will Brierley is probably the best agent I know and far too bright to make that kind of mistake
.
 
‘As for Celia, I think you’d be the first to say she and discretion aren’t even on nodding terms – so encourage her to gossip, by all means.
 
But nothing I’ve just said is to leave this room.
 
I hope that’s abundantly clear?’