Isabella Rockwell's War (27 page)

“It’s just a…
what do you call it? After a battle is over – when everyone gets to
talk over what has happened?”

“De-briefing?”

“Exactly.
Though it sounds a bit odd, as if someone were about to lose their
underpants.”

A smile
touched Isabella’s face.

“You’re
smiling.”

“I am.”

“It makes me
happy to see it.” Alix tucked her arm into Isabella’s. “Come
on.”

Four guards
lifted their sabres, as the girls passed into a room Isabella had
never seen before. It was a bit like her bedroom, pale yellow, with
cream silk furniture and a fire leaping in the grate. Seated at a
small card table was Prince Ernest. The duchess sat on a sofa,
staring into the fire. At a window, with his hands behind his back,
was Al Hassan.

Prince Ernest
put his arm around them.

“Come and sit
down, you two.”

They sat on
the sofa across from the duchess, who didn’t move. Isabella looked
at her and found she didn’t hate her anymore. It was as if the
duchess had never existed.

“This is
yours, I believe.” He handed Isabella her father’s bag. In it was
Abhaya’s pouch and letter, even her shells. The painting, however,
was gone.

“Thank
you.”

“No, it is we
who should be thanking you,” rumbled Prince Ernest. “If you hadn’t
have freed Al Hassan, Princess Alixandrina would now be dead.”

Isabella shook
her head uncomprehendingly.

“What happened
though? I just don’t understand how Mrs Jolyon…” She ran out of
words, and out of the effort it was taking her to concentrate.

Prince Ernest
looked at Al Hassan. “Mrs Jolyon was being blackmailed by the
Russians. She fell in love with the Russian Ambassador when he
visited Cawnpore two years ago. I have no doubt he loved her too,
but when he found out she was to be a governess in the royal
family, the temptation to use her for his own ends got the better
of him.”

“What did he
do?”

“He had her
son, Christopher, kidnapped and taken across into Afghanistan. Mrs
Jolyon was told that only when Princess Alixandrina was dead, would
she see her son again. She hid his kidnapping from everyone.”

“But why? Why
wouldn’t she ask for help?”

“For fear they
would kill Christopher. He was all she had. So she pretended he’d
gone to stay with friends, whilst she came to England. She did such
a good job of pretending, she convinced even herself. A fact which
probably made her life more bearable.”

“But didn’t
Countess March know Christopher had gone missing?”

“She did, but
Mrs Jolyon pretended he’d been found. Then she pretended he’d been
sent away, before the Countess could investigate further – not that
Countess March is one for thinking very deeply of anyone other than
herself.”

“Eloise
Molesey knew though.”

Prince Ernest
nodded.

“Thank heavens
she did. She and her mother had been visiting Countess March the
very week Christopher disappeared, so they’d heard of it from one
of the maids. Afterwards, the countess asked Lady Molesey to not
say anything about it. Told her Christopher had been found, and it
had all been a lot of fuss about nothing.”

Isabella shook
her head.

Why?”

“She was
embarrassed probably – there were already rumours circulating about
Mrs Jolyon’s friendship with the Ambassador. To be so friendly with
a Russian would have been a bit of a disgrace.”

“How do you
know all this?”

Prince Ernest
nodded toward where Al Hassan stood silent next to the window. His
face was white and set, and his eyes deep in their sockets. He
looked as if he hadn’t slept for a week, but at least the scratches
on his face had now faded to silvery lines.

“Was it me who
scratched you?”

Al Hassan
shook his head.

“No. It was
Mrs Jolyon, when I tried to take the Calabar Bean potion from her.
I got them on the day we met at St James’s Palace, when you and the
Princess came to have lunch with King William.”

Isabella
nodded. “I wondered where you had gone. Mrs Jolyon said she had
never seen you.”

“I’m sure she
wished she hadn’t.”

“So you knew
of this plot from the start?”

Al Hassan
shook his head.

“No. My
suspicions were aroused when Princess Alix’s horse first bolted.
The ambassador seemed unusually upset when we heard of this. I
found this odd, as he rarely had a good word to say of the British.
Also I had seen this pony of the princess’s, when Prince Ernest had
invited us to ride with him.”

Isabella
nodded. “He’s a good pony.”

Al Hassan gave
a little smile. “Yes, a pony like that would not bolt without good
reason.”

It was Prince
Ernest’s turn to speak. “You didn’t share the ambassador’s view of
the British?”

Al Hassan
shook his head. “No. I only took a vow to protect the ambassador.
Not to shield a plot to murder a child of the royal house.”

Isabella’s
head span. There were so many threads to this, leading in so many
different directions.

“Why didn’t
you just tell Prince Ernest or King William?”

“Who would
have believed me?”

Prince Ernest
rubbed his moustache. “I would have.”

Al Hassan
looked straight ahead. “ I wish I had, but I made the mistake of
confiding in Mr Conroy. I showed him the Calabar Bean poison I had
taken from her. He paid no attention to me, though. He thought the
princess was making a fuss because she liked the attention.”

The duchess
shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

“Well, he
won’t have the chance to do that again!” interjected Prince Ernest,
banging his hand on the arm of his chair.

Isabella took
a deep breath. “So did the ambassador know you’d uncovered his
plan?”

Al Hassan
shook his head and took a step forward. His face was quiet.

“No, we were
imprisoned before Mrs Jolyon could see him.”

“So, despite
the fact you were both now in prison, she continued with her
plan.”

“Yes. It
suited her perfectly, the focus of attention, and blame, was fully
on us.”

“At which
point, no one would have believed you, as it would just look like
you wanted to get out of prison?”

“Exactly.”

“What were you
doing in the stables as St James’s Palace? A guard said he saw you
the night the wheel came off our carriage. It did look
suspicious.”

Al Hassan
nodded. “I can see why, but there was nothing sinister. I was only
checking our horses and our saddles. It is part of my job. I did
see Mrs Jolyon leave the tack room as I arrived though, but that
didn’t strike me as important until later.”

Isabella shook
her aching head.

“All those
clues, the Starrburr, the Calabar Bean poison…” she darted a glance
at Prince Ernest. “I thought it was you, sir.”

Prince Ernest
threw back his head and laughed, a great guffaw across the
room.

“I know. I
look like the most obvious culprit but,” and he placed a hand on
Isabella’s shoulder and smiled. “I am a soldier, not a king. It is
my duty to protect the crown, not to take it.”

Isabella put
her hand to her mouth, feeling once again the iron grip of her
aggressor that dark night in the Blue Salon.

“She tried to
kill me.” She heard Alix gasp. “She was so strong, like a man.”

Prince Ernest
nodded.

“Madness can
do that, and remember, to her, she was in a battle for the life of
her son. It wasn’t personal. You could have been anyone. But you
were in the way. You had to be removed.”

Isabella
looked up. “She said that?”

“Yes. She told
us everything.”

“What will
happen to her?”

“That is up to
King William. She should be tried for treason, but she is very
unwell. She doesn’t know where she is.”

“It’s no more
than she deserves,” said the duchess bitterly, still looking at the
fire. “After what she put me through.”

Prince
Ernest’s voice was harsh.

“Not everyone
gets everything they deserve, duchess. You, above all others, would
do well to remember it.” A tear of self-pity slid down the
duchess’s cheeks.

“Where is Mr
Conroy?” Isabella whispered.

Alix gave the
ghost of a smile. “He’s been banished.”

Isabella sat
up a little and looked at Prince Ernest.

“How did you
know all of this? Surely the ambassador didn’t tell you all
this?”

Prince Ernest
shook his head.

“No, he
didn’t. I’ve had spies reporting to me from northern India for at
least two years. We’ve been watching the ambassador closely,
especially since he’s been such a frequent visitor to
Cawnpore.”

“And
Christopher Jolyon?”

“We are
searching for him, but the trail is cold and the mountains of
Afghanistan are the best hiding place in the world. It is my hope
we find him, but I have to accept we may not.”

Isabella
nodded. Alix, next to her started to shiver. Isabella took her
hand.

“Are you
alright?”

Alix
nodded.

“Delayed
reaction probably. I just can’t believe it of Mrs Jolyon. She was
so kind to me.”

“And me,”
murmured Isabella.

“How did she
get you to the lake?”

“She told me
Ruby and Zachariah needed to see me… that they were hiding outside.
So I knew something had gone wrong.”

“That, at
least, was the truth,” said Isabella.

“I ran out and
down to the lake, where I could see them waiting. Ruby started to
tell me that Midge was being held by the Peelers… and I don’t
remember anything more.”

Prince Ernest
cleared his throat.

“She used
chloroform to put you to sleep.”

“What is that?
I’ve never head of it.” Isabella was momentarily intrigued.

“It’s a new
medicine, very powerful and quick acting. They’ve been using it on
the battlefields. You breathe it in. It’s better she used that,
rather than the Calabar Leaf, as we wouldn’t have had the
antidote.”

“Was that what
she poisoned you with?” Alix eyes were filling with tears.

Isabella
nodded.

“I had the
antidote though, or rather, Abhaya had.”

“Thank
god.”

Ernest stuffed
a pipe into his mouth. “Couldn’t agree more, me dear. It must have
been terrifying. I feel dreadful that you weren’t able to tell
anyone about it.”

Isabella
looked up.

“I did though.
She was just the wrong person.”

Prince Ernest
nodded. “Which is why she alerted the duchess to the missing
picture, knowing the duchess would set the Peelers onto you. By
confiding in her, Mrs Jolyon knew you were close to finding out her
identity. She had to get rid of you, and quickly.”

“Why didn’t
she just leave us to go on our way?”

Prince Ernest
raised his eyebrows. “Because if she were successful in
assassinating the princess, you would be called as a witness. By
telling her what you knew, she realised it was too much. Once I’d
have found out about what happened to you in the library, it
wouldn’t have been long before we found out the truth about
her.”

Alix looked
down at her hands, which twisted in her lap. Isabella looked at the
duchess, but the duchess’s gaze never left the fire.

“It’s very
hard talking about this, so shall we finish off?” Prince Ernest’s
face was gentle. Isabella nodded and he continued. “Mrs Jolyon
dragged Alix into the water and, when Ruby and Zachariah tried to
stop her, Mrs Jolyon shot Ruby. Then Isabella arrived.”

“But Alix was
face down and dead when I dragged her out and she was dead when I
left her on the side of the lake….” Isabella started to cry, the
memory of it so fresh she could feel Alix’s lifeless skin beneath
her own, see the dirt from the lake’s bottom under Alix’s
fingernails. “I just don’t understand….”

Prince Ernest
came and sat down next to her and took her other hand.

“She was, but
the moment after Al Hassan had escorted you and Zachariah away, she
brought up most of the water she’d swallowed and began to breathe
on her own. It was a miracle. And it’s thanks to you. You kept on
pumping her chest even when there was no hope. That is what saved
her.”

Isabella’s
head was bowed and a tear dropped off the end of her nose and sank
into the black crepe of her dress.

“I’m so so
sorry I took the painting.” Then she looked over at Al Hassan. “I
couldn’t have done it without you. If it had been left to me, I
would have gone to rescue Midge.”

Al Hassan
salaamed.

“But you
didn’t. Now the princess is safe. It was not her time to die.”

The Pathan’s
quiet certainty made Isabella feel better, as if her spirit were no
longer floating two feet above her body, but now coming back down
to earth, where it belonged.

Isabella
looked at Prince Ernest, and curled her hand around Alix’s.

“May I go and
see Midge and Zachariah now?”

It was April
and the air was soft. Isabella sniffed. Winter’s bite had finally
gone. There was a pull on her sleeve.

“Come on then,
look, over there, they’re waving us on board.”

Isabella
looked down and smiled.

“Not nervous
then?”

Midge looked
peeved.

“Nervous? Me?
Never. Why would I be?”

“You’ve never
been on a boat before.”

“So? How
difficult can it be?” Despite his bluster, he was a bit pale, and
Isabella hugged him to her.

“It’s not
difficult. It will be fun, especially in first class.” A tiny wind
picked up the white feather on Isabella’s blue velvet hat and
pushed it against her face. The sound of flags snapping filled the
air. “Did you know they have afternoon tea with chocolate cake
every single day.”

“Is that
instead of dinner?” Midge looked a bit crestfallen.