The King's Falcon (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 3) (59 page)

BOOK: The King's Falcon (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 3)
4.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Francis settled down to complete
M
é
nage Deux
which he’d promised to Froissart for the middle of January but was, as yet, only half-written.
 

Ashley paid a courtesy call on the King and established from Sir Edward Hyde that there had so far been no suggestion that His Majesty might journey to Honfleur – which, in the Chancellor’s opinion, raised doubts about the validity of Colonel Peverell’s information.
 

And Athenais and Pauline returned to the stage … Pauline still appearing in
M
é
nage
which had been retained by popular demand and Athenais, in a revival of Larivey’s comedy,
Les
Espirits
.

At the first opportunity, Athenais visited the best of the second-hand clothes dealers in Saint-Michel and returned with a good-quality coat of dark green broadcloth which she sincerely hoped would fit Ashley.
 
Then she hid it in Pauline’s room until the first day of January, in order to give it to him as a gift for the New Year.

When the time came and she held it out, shyly smiling, Ashley simply stared but made no move to take it from her.
 
Finally, he said, ‘How did you afford this?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘I think so, yes. I’m aware how limited your resources are – and equally aware how little I’m able to contribute.
 
So I’ll ask again.
 
How did you afford it?’

She had already decided that telling him it had been bought out of the rent money he’d pressed on Pauline wouldn’t be a good idea so she fought back.

‘You don’t like it, do you?’ she asked mournfully.
 

‘That isn’t the point. I --’

‘To me, it is. I’ve had it hidden away for days, even though I could scarcely wait to give it to you.
 
And you don’t like it.’
 
On-stage, she could sometimes summon up tears when she needed them.
 
In real life, it didn’t seem to be working.
 
‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘There’s nothing wrong with it,’ he said impatiently. ‘It’s a very nice coat.
 
But I thought we had an understanding.
 
Come hell or high water, I will pay my way.
 
What I will
not
do is become a charge on your purse.
 
Ever.’

Athenais dropped dispiritedly down on the window-seat, the coat folded in her lap.

‘There’s no need to sound so cross.
 
It’s just a coat, for heaven’s sake. In case you hadn’t noticed, it isn’t even new – so it was hardly expensive.’

Frowning, Ashley drew an exasperated breath and said, ‘You’re being deliberately obtuse.
 
You know perfectly well how serious I am about this.
 
How important it is to me.
 
So you must also have known that I’m not about to start accepting gifts from you.’

Annoyance stirred and, tossing the disputed coat to one side, she stalked across to the dresser and picked up the moonstone necklace.
 
Then, letting it dangle from one finger, she said, ‘That sounds like the kind of understanding that ought to work both ways.
 
What do you think?’

‘That you’ve moved on to manipulation.’
 
He stared at her over folded arms.
 
‘It won’t work.
 
I gave you a gift because I love you and doing so gave me pleasure.
 
It’s also a matter of pride.
 
What seems to be escaping you, is that I neither expected nor wanted anything in return.’

‘Oh – stop being so stubborn!
 
I’m not reciprocating.
 
I bought you a coat because you needed it and because I
could
.
 
And if you stopped harping on about pride and the rest of it, you might realise that you’re not the only one to find pleasure in giving.
 
I’d hoped to do it myself – and might have done if you weren’t so utterly, infuriatingly stiff-necked.’

‘I’m not being stiff-necked, Athenais.
 
I’m asking you to accept that only things I’m left with these days are my principles.’
 
He stopped and then, with suppressed violence, added, ‘I want to provide for you, damn it.
 
And I ought to be able to – but I can’t.
 
If you think that doesn’t eat at me every day … that it doesn’t make me feel wholly inadequate, you can’t know me at all. I’ve invaded your life with scarcely a --’

‘You didn’t invade my life at all.
 
I
dragged
you into it, kicking and screaming.’

He shook his head, refusing to smile.
 

‘I don’t recall being quite that reluctant.
 
But be that as it may, I will
not
live off your earnings.
 
I will
not
let myself sink to the level of a kept man. And I most assuredly will
not
turn into your father.’

‘My father,’ she snapped back, ‘is a better man than he’s been in years, thanks to you.
 
If, in your view, everything between us has to be neatly entered into the ledger, perhaps that should be written there, too.’

‘That is not at all what I meant.’

‘It certainly
sounded
as if it was.
 
And what about d’Auxerre?
 
But for you, he’d have had me twice by now. If our relationship is all about checks and balances, there are another couple of entries for your column.’

‘Will you stop?
 
That isn’t at all the same thing.’

‘It seems to me as though you’ve made up all the rules to suit yourself.
 
It’s true that we don’t have much – but what we
do
have, we share. I know you want to look after me.
 
I understand that it hurts that you can’t.
 
But life is what it is.
 
And I won’t let you spoil what we have – this wonderful, incredible thing that we have – with self-recrimination.’
 
She paused and took a steadying breath.
 
‘Ashley … I’ve been blind to every other man since the night you and Francis stood outside the door of the Green Room;
 
so I’d sooner lie in a ditch with you than in the lap of luxury with anyone else.
 
And if you don’t know that by now, then you can’t know
me
at all.’

The wrenching pain in his chest that always came when he thought of the future silenced him for a moment.
 
Then he said baldly, ‘I know you.
 
You are the only thing in this entire world that I want.
 
But I don’t know what’s to become of us.
 
I can’t see … God help me, I can’t see that this will end well. Oh, we can go on as we are for a while – but not indefinitely. England holds nothing for me and even less for you.
 
The playhouses are closed; and even if they weren’t, women aren’t permitted on the English stage. As for --’
 

‘Not to mention the fact that I speak worse English than Jem Barker,’ interposed Athenais with something not quite a smile.


No
one speaks worse English than Jem.
 
Most of the time, he speaks a language all of his own.
 
And you’ve a quick ear.
 
We could correct your pronunciation any time you wanted.’
 
Ashley struggled to return to the point at issue.
 
‘But that’s not the answer and neither is the current situation.
 
As things stand, I only possess one saleable ability – but, in order to use it, I’m going to have to leave you here for possibly months at a time while I serve abroad.
 
And the only other alternative is to go on as we are, hoping that Hyde will continue to pay me a pittance.
 
It isn’t good enough for me.
 
And it
certainly
isn’t good enough for you.’

‘That’s your opinion.
 
Have you heard me complain?’

‘No.
 
But --’

‘Good.
 
So – leaving money out of it for a moment – what
would
be?’

‘What would be what?’
 
Ashley was beginning to feel himself turning into a gibbering wreck.

‘What would
be good enough for me?
 
I assume you’ve got something in mind.’

He had.
 
The trouble was that he couldn’t say it.
 
He wanted, more than he had ever wanted anything, to offer her the dignity and protection of his name … except, with things as they were, it wouldn’t provide either one.
 
So he couldn’t simply say,
Marry me
… because, if he did, he was fairly certain she’d say,
Yes, please.
 
How soon?

Swallowing the bitterness in his throat, he said, ‘Nothing of the least use.
 
Why are we quarrelling?’

‘Because you are a man and therefore, at times, wholly unreasonable.’

This time he did laugh and pulled her into his arms.

‘An inarguable statement.
 
I’m sorry.’

‘I forgive you.’
 
Her arms slid around him and she held him very tightly. ‘And now you will try on your nice new coat.
 
Because, if you don’t, you needn’t worry about Pauline.
 
I’ll hit you with a skillet myself.’

 

~
 
*
 
*
 
~
 
*
 
*
 
~

TWO
 

Francis finished
M
é
nage Deux
with four days to spare and laid it before Pauline.
 
This time, however, he sat down across the table from her and watched her face while she read it.
 
The first snort of laughter came quickly and others soon followed it.
 
Relaxing slightly, he leaned back against the settle and waited for her to finish.

When she finally looked up, he said, ‘Well?
 
Is it as good as the other?’

‘Yes.
 
Perhaps even better.’ She grinned.
 
‘You really
do
have an evil mind, don’t you?’

‘It would appear so.’
 
He smiled back, slowly and with intent.
 
‘Just at the moment, for example, it’s suggesting all manner of decadent things I think we might both enjoy.’

She felt the inevitable tug of response low in her body and knew her colour had risen a little but managed to say coolly, ‘Oh?
 
Such as what?’

‘Such as taking the pins from your hair and …’

He stopped, his eyes lingering on her mouth.

This time her breath fluttered.

‘And what?
 
That doesn’t sound very decadent to me.’

‘The rest of it is. Trust me. But a gentleman doesn’t make those sort of suggestions to a lady across the kitchen table in broad daylight.’

‘No?’

‘No.
 
He makes them by candlelight and in a more … conducive … location.
 
Preferably between long, enticing kisses. Such things shouldn’t be hurried.’

It had been a long time since Pauline had experienced physical desire for a man and she found it both exhilarating and a little alarming that Francis could produce such a reaction without even touching her.

She said, ‘You’re very good at this.’

‘Thank you.’

And there it was.
 
That talent he had for mingling words and glances that heated her blood with something calculated to make her laugh.

She shook her head at him. ‘Don’t you want to ask at what?’

‘No.
 
I’m just happy that you think I’m good at
something
.’
 
The sapphire gaze rested on her invitingly. ‘But I imagine you meant … elegant courtship.’

‘I meant seduction.
 
You’ve obviously had a fair amount of practice.’

‘Some – though I believe I’m still learning.’
 
He took her hand and placed a warm kiss in her palm.
 
‘How am I doing?’

‘Well enough.’
 
Well enough to make me wish for candlelight and a conducive location
. Aware that he his thumb was tracing lazy circles on her wrist, causing her pulse to accelerate, she pulled her hand away and, clearing her throat, said, ‘I should go.
 
Will you give the play to Froissart today?’

Francis stood up. ‘If you think it’s ready.’

‘It’s ready.’
 
And so, God help me, am I.

*
 
*
 
*

On the following afternoon, Jem laconically informed Colonel Peverell that the gent with the eye-patch was back in his lodgings.

‘And about time,’ muttered Ashley.
 
‘Is he at home now?’

‘Was when I come away.’

‘Good.
 
Then let’s see if I can catch him.’

Arriving in the Rue des Minimes, Ashley trod briskly up the stairs to Sir William Brierley’s room and rapped on the door.
 
Then he was face to face with his quarry.

‘Ashley?
 
Dear me.
 
This is a surprise,’ said Will, holding the door wide in invitation.
 
‘I’ve been staying with friends near Rouen for a few weeks and only returned last night.
 
Travel in this country is so very fatiguing, don’t you think?’

Ashley tossed his hat down on a table and said, ‘I wouldn’t know.
 
I rarely stir from Paris.’

‘You’re fortunate.
 
I find the countryside palls very quickly.’

‘Then why go?’

A flicker of awareness stirred in the dark eye and then was gone.

‘I was invited, my dear.
 
Why else?
 
Do sit down.
 
You’ll take a glass of wine, no doubt … and hopefully make me privy to all the latest gossip.’

Ashley sat, his expression unreadable.
 
He said, ‘I’m not privy to it myself.
 
But you might be interested to know that Celia Maxwell is dead.’

Sir William froze, bottle in hand.

‘Dead?
 
How did that happen?
 
It must have been very sudden.’

‘It was.
 
A fall and a broken neck – just a few days before Christmas.’
 
He accepted the glass he was offered but set it to one side.
 
‘If speculation interests you, there’s a possibility that Verney pushed her – though I personally doubt he did so. I think she tripped and he just … failed to catch her.’

‘Convenient for him.’

‘Very.’

Sir William sat down on the other side of the hearth.

‘You didn’t come here to tell me that, did you?’

‘No.’ Ashley impaled him on a steady gaze.
 
‘I came to ask why you lied to me.’

‘Lied to you?
 
Did I?
 
About what?’

‘Don’t play the innocent, Will.
 
You know perfectly well about what.
 
Lucy Walter.
 
You said you visited her to take money from the King.
 
You didn’t.’

‘And you know this how?’

‘How do you think?
 
I know it because His Majesty told me,’ came the impatient reply.
 
‘Can we please stop skirting the issue?
 
We’ve known each other a number of years and I’ve always respected your ability.
 
I had thought that respect was mutual – but it seems not.’

‘You’re making assumptions.’

‘Am I?
 
In what particular?’

‘You’re
 
assuming that my reason for visiting Mistress Walter must somehow be incriminating.’

‘If it’s not, why lie about it?’

There was a long silence while Sir William sipped his wine and stared pensively into the fire.
 
Finally, he said, ‘Two reasons, really.
 
Firstly, I was keeping to what we both agree is the cardinal rule.
 
Tell no one anything they don’t absolutely need to know.’
 
He looked up. ‘And there was no real reason for you to know what I wanted with Lucy Walter.’

Ashley’s brows rose.

‘You could have said that.
 
I would have accepted it.’

‘We were in a public place, Ashley.’

‘You’re saying you lied for the benefit of whoever might be listening?’

‘Something plausible is always preferable to a hint of mystery, don’t you think?’
 

What Ashley thought was that it sounded overly plausible
now
but he merely said, ‘And the second reason?’

‘The game we play has many strands.’

They might
call
it a game, reflected Ashley, but Will knew as well as he did that those who treated it like one were likely to wind up decorating the end of a rope.

‘I’m aware of that.
 
So?’

‘So not all of them are … clearly defined.’
 

‘I’m aware of that, too. What are you saying exactly?’

‘I’m saying that your parameters and mine are rather different.’
 
Sir William’s mouth curled slightly. ‘Just at present, I suspect you wouldn’t approve of mine.’

Ashley eyed him narrowly.

‘Why? What are you up to?’

Sir William shook his head and tutted reprovingly.
 

‘You know better than to ask that.’

‘All right.
 
How much risk are you running?’

‘A little more than normal, perhaps … but, if all goes as I hope, the results should be worth it.
 
And that, I’m afraid is all I intend to say on the subject.’
 
He sipped his wine and crossed one long leg over the other.
 
‘My turn, I think.
 
There has been no gossip about myself and Mistress Walter because there has been nothing to occasion it.
 
In the last six months, I have visited her only once … yet you knew of it, didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Who were you watching?
 
The lady – or myself?’

Ashley didn’t like anything about the way this conversation had been going but there was no doubt that it was refreshing not to have to spell everything out.

‘The lady.
 
There wouldn’t have been any reason to watch you, would there?’

‘No.
 
And I’d have noticed if you had been.’ Will paused.
 
‘Let me guess.
 
Charles wants the lady kept under the watchful eye of someone he trusts?
 
Yes.
 
But that’s not all, is it?
 
She has been calling herself his wife and hinting that she can prove it.’
 
Laughter stirred.
 
‘Don’t –
don’t
tell me he’s had you hunting for these fabled marriage-lines?’

‘You know about them?’

‘I know they’re a forgery, if that’s what you mean.’

‘How?’

‘For anyone who takes the trouble to look properly, there’s a verifiable mistake.
 
The document says the marriage took place at St Germain-en-Laye on September 4th, 1649. But Charles wasn’t
in
St Germain then.
 
He was landing on Jersey.
 
Both Hyde and Secretary Nicholas will have a record of it somewhere.’

Ashley decided he’d better pay Hyde another visit.
 
He also thought he’d give a great deal to lay the copy in Hyde’s possession next to the one Colonel Maxwell had in London.
 
He said, ‘You’ve plainly had the chance to scrutinise it.’

‘In detail.’

‘And it didn’t occur to you to purloin the damned thing?’

‘Steal a forgery?
 
To what end?
 
It seemed much more interesting to see what she did with it. You know the old saying about giving someone enough rope … and I thought Lucy might well be stupid enough to hang herself.
 
Figuratively speaking, of course.’

‘Of course,’ said Ashley dryly.
 
And thought,
Christ, Will.
 
Why can’t you ever do the obvious thing and save everybody else a lot of trouble
.
 
‘It hasn’t worked so far though, has it?’

‘No.
 
But there’s always hope.’

‘Is there?’
 
Ashley swallowed his wine in one gulp and stood up. ‘And you find the thought comforting?’

‘Why not? It’s better than nothing.’

‘No.
 
Actually it’s a whole lot worse.’

*
 
*
 
*

Ashley went directly to see Sir Edward Hyde and, coming straight to the point, said, ‘Have you had a good look at the so-called marriage lines?’

‘Yes.
 
But there doesn’t seem to be anything untoward about them.’

‘Look again.
 
Look, in particular, at the when and where.
 
And then check them against the King’s whereabouts at that time.’

‘You’ve acquired new information?’

‘It would seem so.
 
I’ve just been informed by Sir William Brierley that the facts don’t fit.’

‘How does he know?’

‘That’s a good question and one he’s so far managed to avoid answering.
 
But that’s not the main point, is it?
 
What really matters is whether or not he’s right.’

*
 
*
 
*

He arrived home to find the house empty but for Archie, newly-returned from sweeping the snow from both the front steps and the yard.
 
Catching a certain glint in the older man’s eye, Ashley realised that this was the first time there had been any chance of a completely private conversation since he and Athenais had … well, just
since
.
 
Removing his hat and taking a moment to shake the snow from it, he said carefully, ‘I imagine there are things you’d like to say to me, Sergeant.’

BOOK: The King's Falcon (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 3)
4.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Monstrumologist by Rick Yancey
B009R9RGU2 EBOK by Sweeney, Alison
Cooking up a Storm by Emma Holly
My lucky Strike by Claudia Burgoa
The World at War by Richard Holmes
My Kind of Girl by Buddhadeva Bose


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024