Isabella Rockwell's War (22 page)

“It wasn’t an
accident was it?” finished Alix in a half whisper. The duchess
shook her head, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “And Shadow? Was
he made to bolt?”

Prince Ernest
took over.

“He was,
though I haven’t evidence for this yet. I do have the evidence that
the Russian Ambassador, Yuri Gregorivich, was behind your carriage
losing its wheel.”

Alix looked
stunned. “Why the Russian ambassador?”

“We don’t know
yet,” replied Prince Ernest. “He has been arrested, but has said
nothing so far. But he will.” The Prince’s face was grim. “It’s
most likely to be about de-stabilising the throne of England. Then
England might withdraw from India, leaving its rich pickings for
Russia, who would invade through Afghanistan.” It took a moment for
Isabella to realise she was nodding.

“I have heard
of this before,” she said in a quiet voice. “I heard Lady Molesey
speak of it.”

Alix nodded
slowly.

“So the stable
boy said he saw the Ambassador tampering with my coach?”

“No dear,”
said Ernest. “It was his manservant, Hassan Al Hassan. He has been
arrested too, but I have no doubt he did something to make your
horse bolt. They’re fine horseman those Pathans, he’d know a trick
or two.”

Isabella
stood, feeling sick.

“I don’t
believe it. Pathans don’t kill children. It would go against their
code… their Pahktunwali!”

Prince Ernest
nodded, almost sadly.

“I know
Isabella. I understand why you are so upset. I was too, when I
found out for I’ve always admired their tribe, but I have evidence
from the stable boy. When we arrested him, Hassan Al Hassan had
some poison on his person. Deadly stuff you can only get in India,
induces paralysis. Not a nice death, no sirrah.”

“Calabar
Bean?” said Isabella without thinking.

“Well, yes.”
Ernest looked surprised. “You’re a little young to know of it.”

Isabella
looked up. “My ayah was a healer.” With the thought of Abhaya
Isabella’s eyes welled with tears.

“I’m sorry,
Alix, I don’t know why I am crying. I think it is with relief
really….”

Alix put her
arm around her.

“And maybe
sadness. You spoke to Mr Al Hassan didn’t you?”

Isabella
nodded. “I liked him… and he reminded me of home.”

“Well,” said
the duchess. “All is well now. The princess is safe. I owe you an
apology too, Isabella. I thought you were here to cause trouble but
I see now you only had the princess’s best interests at heart.
Bravo.” Isabella gave a limp smile.

“What’s
happened to the Russian Ambassador?” asked Alix.

“He’s being
held at Westminster Vaults with Al-Hassan.”

“What will
happen to them?”

“They will be
tried for treason the day after tomorrow… then they will be
hanged.”

Mrs Jolyon was
rubbing Alix’s hands to warm them up.

“What alerted
you to all this?” she asked Ernest.

“Well, we’ve
been watching this Russian for some time. We knew him to have a
close relationship with the Emir of Afghanistan, they were educated
together, but it wasn’t until we found out how much time he’d spent
in India, we became suspicious of him. It turned out he’d been
moving back and forth across the border stirring up trouble for the
British, encouraging uprisings, being difficult….”

Isabella
looked at Ernest, his hard face and shrewd eyes and found herself
glad it was not he who was the assassin. She felt ashamed she’d
ever suspected him.

“I received
intelligence an attempt might be made, but by then your horse had
bolted for no good reason and I became very much on my guard. I put
guard details near you at all times. The only time I couldn’t
police your whereabouts was at St James’s Palace where, ironically,
I thought you’d be safe.”

“Is that why
you didn’t want the princess to go and stay with the king?” Ernest
looked surprised.

“Why, yes. But
how did you know?”

“I overheard
you arguing with King William. I’m sorry, I was looking for the
princess and thought she was with you and the king, and so I waited
for her outside. You were so angry you didn’t even notice me.”

Prince Ernest
laughed. “You’ll make a fine soldier one day Rockwell.”

“I hope so,
sir.”

Prince Ernest
held up his glass. “To the Princess Alixandrina.”

Alix turned
her shining face to Isabella’s.

“I’m so happy
this is over. I am sorry it was your friend, but I am glad we now
know. He might have harmed you too eventually, to get to me.”

Isabella was
silent.

He would never
have harmed me, was what she wanted to say but, with the feeling of
happiness around her so strong she could almost touch it, she
didn’t dare.

She watched as
the duchess and John Conroy fawned over Alix, making amends,
knowing it was too little too late. Still, the attention would be
nice for Alix whilst it lasted.

“Shall we go
through my dear?” asked Prince Ernest, offering Alix his arm. The
door opened and strains of music and chatter came through the air
from the ballroom and wonderful smells wafted from the dining
rooms.

One of the
duchess’s ladies-in-waiting bustled up to her.

“Your majesty.
The king is here.” The duchess beckoned to Prince Ernest and
Alixandrina.

“Come, let us
greet him with the good news before he goes through.” Isabella
watched as Alix walked, face alight with happiness, through the
great stone arch to the entrance hall to greet her uncle and
aunt.

Mrs Jolyon was
at her elbow.

“Cheer up,
dearest.” She put her arm around Isabella. “It’s all been a bit
much for you hasn’t it?”

Isabella
nodded, chin rigid with trying to keep the tears back.

“I just find
it so hard to believe Mr Al Hassan would take part in such a plan.
Not one that is so dishonourable and underhand. He might well kill
the king or Ernest, but it would always be in a fair fight. Pathans
don’t creep about in the dark loosening screws and putting burrs
under saddles.”

Mrs Jolyon
looked horrified.

“He put a burr
under her saddle? How do you know?”

Isabella held
out her open palm, which contained the Star Burr in all its spiked
glory.

“I found it on
the underside of Shadow’s saddle, on the morning Alix went out for
a ride.

“What will you
do with it?”

“I should give
it to Prince Ernest, but I just can’t bring myself to. I suppose I
don’t want to believe I was so taken in. If I could just get to
talk to Mr Al Hassan I would know if he were involved. I would be
able to tell from his face,” she added in Hindi.

Mrs Jolyon
looked at her closely.

“But dearest,
who else could it have been? All the proof points to the Ambassador
and his man, even more so now you have this. I would take it to
Prince Ernest just as soon as you can. It’s terribly important,
Isabella. It might mean the difference between life and death for
them and I don’t want to think of what might happen if they were
released. Who knows what other plans they had up their
sleeves.”

Isabella
nodded, glum. “I know. You’re right.”

Mrs Jolyon put
her arm around Isabella’s shoulders. “Do you want me to give it to
Ernest – would that make it easier?”

Isabella
smiled. “Yes please. If you don’t mind.” She dropped the Star Burr
into Mrs Jolyon’s palm, feeling the weight of responsibility fall
from her shoulders. Somehow, Mrs Jolyon taking it from her, made
her feel less guilty. The Russian Ambassador and Hassan Al Hassan
would never leave prison now.

All Isabella
had to do now was focus on her escape. It was going to be simple.
With so much coming and going, no one would notice the picture
missing and the alarm wouldn’t be raised for some time. By then
she’d be far away. She had nothing to do now, but put aside her
sadness about Hassan Al Hassan and enjoy herself.

Mrs Jolyon
took her arm. “Shall we go through?”

Isabella had
never seen anything like it. The ballroom was filled with the light
of a million candles and the silver and crystal chandeliers shone.
Great tables were laid with gold linen tablecloths and gold cutlery
and groaned with mouth-watering food. Whole fish, huge hams,
haunches of venison and whole chickens and ducks were being carved
at the tables for the glittering guests. Two huge bowls of melted
chocolate sat over tiny blue flames beside assorted exotic fruits,
which sent a beautiful smell into the air. The air was filled with
excited chatter and there was much fan-waving as the fires were
stoked high and the room became warm.

Mrs Jolyon
gripped her arm. “Oh dear, you are not going to believe who is
here.”

“Who?” replied
Isabella in a panic, following Mrs Jolyon’s gaze.

There on the
other side of the room in pale green satin, like one of the
bullfrogs from the river at home, was Lady Molesey. Next to her in
primrose yellow was Eloise. They were talking to a tall, thin man
without a chin.

“Oh dear. This
is not good. What if they see me?’

Mrs jolyon
snorted. It doesn’t matter if they do, does it. You are under the
protection of her majesty. If I’m not mistaken, by the time Lady
Molesey’s beetled down to India House to tell them you are here,
you’ll be gone?”

Isabella
thought for a moment. Mrs Jolyon was right. There was a lot of
water under the bridge since she’d last seen them. She was obliged
to no one now, she had her own money and she had powerful friends.
The feeling of being in charge of her own destiny was one she was
beginning to enjoy. She tugged at Mrs Jolyon’s gown. “Come on,
let’s go and say hello.”

Mrs Jolyon
wrinkled her nose. “No thank you. I’ve seen enough of those two to
last me a lifetime.

“May I have
the pleasure of this dance?” A nice looking man in uniform bowed
before Mrs Jolyon, but Mrs Jolyon looked back at Isabella.

“Go on. I’ll
wait by the door for when the princess returns.”

Mrs Jolyon was
right. It would be best not to be seen, she was tired and felt she
might say something she regretted. It made her happy to watch from
a distance, safe in the knowledge the Moleseys no longer had any
power over her. The relief she felt that Alix was now safe made her
shoulders relax, and she found her breathing was steadier. She
still found it hard to believe Al Hassan had been involved. The
Ambassador must have held a very great blood price over Al Hassan’s
family.

There was a
short burst of trumpets from the balcony of the great hall, and the
king and queen entered the room with Alix at their side.

“I’ve got to
dance with four different princes apparently,” Alix muttered glumly
as she came over to stand with Isabella.

“I thought you
liked dancing?”

“I do. I love
it. I just don’t want to have to make polite conversation
throughout all of it.”

Isabella
shrugged. “Well don’t then. Pretend you’ve lost your voice.”

Alix rolled
her eyes. “You’ve got no sense of duty, have you?”

“I do, I just
don’t see why, considering you’ll be queen one day, you should be
able to not talk to whomever you wish.”

Alix sighed.
“You would think so wouldn’t you?”

They were
interrupted by the arrival of the first prince, who was all of
fourteen, with buckteeth and mouse coloured hair. He bowed and
clicked his heels together, and offered Alix his arm. Alix smiled
prettily, curtsied and then made a face at Isabella over her
shoulder as she was led off to dance. Isabella smiled. Alix was far
too well-behaved, but maybe that’s what happened when you were
raised to rule, all the naughtiness was ironed out of you,
otherwise how could you put up with such a boring life, even if you
could have as many dresses as you wanted.

Isabella stood
for a moment drinking it in, knowing this might be her last
peaceful moment. She watched Alix fondly. Who would ever have
imagined they would be such friends? She certainly wouldn’t have.
Would she ever see Alix again after tonight? Probably not; not with
the price which would be on her own head once the picture had been
found missing. Her eyes filled with tears again, at this thought.
She rubbed them. God, she was becoming such a cry-baby.

Most of the
guests who weren’t dancing were now eating, sitting at delicate
gold chairs and tables placed around the outside of the room.
Though not hungry, Isabella thought she’d better eat – the night
ahead of her might be a long one. It was as she carried her full
plate over toward Mrs Jolyon that it happened.

“Isabella?
Isabella Rockwell?” A voice boomed. She ducked behind a pillar, but
it was too late, everyone around her was looking at her. There was
nowhere for her to hide.

“I can’t
believe it!” Lady Molesey’s face was disbelieving. “It is you isn’t
it? What on earth are you doing here?” Lady Molesey loomed in front
of her, blocking any form of escape. Over Lady Molesey’s shoulder
Isabella saw Mrs Jolyon look up with an expression of dread as she
caught sight of Lady Molesey. Isabella wouldn’t be getting any help
from there, clearly.

“Hello Lady
Molesey.”

“I can’t
believe it,” Lady Molesey repeated herself, coming up very close to
Isabella as if to check she weren’t an apparition. “You’ve
changed,” she said accusingly, looking her up and down. At least
there was nothing she could criticize about her appearance. “Why
are you here. What on earth happened to you? Where did you run off
to – I should have you arrested!”

Alix had
materialized at Isabella’s side, much to her relief.

“On what
grounds?”

“Your
majesty.” Lady Molesey dropped a clumsy curtsey. “Um… er… this
person is known to me, from a while ago.” Lady Molesey seemed to
not want to say how.