Another piece of good news, and good fortune, that happened to me within the same hour as the painting arriving and me fetching framers to retrieve the painting and bringing it to their store to frame, was the arrival of a Cromwell butler. The butler came with a written message and was told not to return to the Cromwell manor without a written or verbal response. The butler came on the behalf of Ms. Tilney, and not from Mr or Mrs. Cromwell. The hand-written note that Aunt Tilney had written was an invitation to dinner that night. On the note, she said that after the events of the ball, she would like to host another evening between friends at the Cromwell house. She said that James Cromwell was apologetic for his manner and hoped to restore friendships and make amends this evening. Ms. Tilney wrote that it would be a pleasure if I could join them in their house for dinner and asked for my response to be prompt as there was much planning to be arranged.
"Can you tell me who else is going to the scheduled dinner?" I asked the butler.
"Invitations are being sent to you, the Campbell family and the Alexander family, Monsieur Levasseur. As far as I know, this dinner will have the same expected guests as last week's dinner."
"Ok, I understand. Have the other families accepted the invitations?"
"Sorry but I am not sure, Monsieur. Other servants were sent to their properties to invite them to tonight's dinner, so I do not yet know the results."
"I understand," I said again to the butler. "Well, then can you please tell Ms. Tilney and the Cromwell's that I accept their invitation and I look forward to seeing them this evening."
I was instructed to attend the Cromwell house for dinner at eight o'clock that evening and I shook the butler's hand and we parted ways. There were just over five hours until the scheduled dinner would take place which was plenty of time for the framers to complete their job. To fill the time in the day until I was scheduled to go to the Cromwell home, I wrote in my journal and sent a hotel receptionist on an errand to the Campbell house to inform Christopher Campbell that I was now engaged this evening on account of the Cromwell dinner so that we could not meet as previously arranged, but I added that I hoped to see him there.
At half-past seven, I entered the hotel's lobby and was readying myself for the walk to the Cromwell's house. The painting had been delivered back to the hotel by the framers and the receptionist at the hotel had signed for the picture and kept it safe and secure behind his counter. He informed me of its arrival and asked if I would like it to be brought upstairs and placed safely in my room. I answered in the negative and asked him to do something else with it. I requested him to do something for me that was not a common procedure and would be inconvenient for him, but when I said that I would give him some money for his trouble he readily agreed to my request. We talked over the details and then I gave him some money from my purse and promised him further money if the task was carried out accordingly.
I spoke to the hotel's receptionist for ten minutes and then it took me a further eighteen minutes to walk through the streets in Mayfair before I arrived at the Cromwell front door. By the time I arrived at the house and was admitted and brought to the saloon room where the rest of the guests were being entertained. I was the last member of the party to arrive and I suspected it on was the account that Ms. Tilney had organised the evening's dinner party and by now I was certain that everyone was made aware of how much my aunt detested lateness.
There was a string band orchestra set up in the corner of the saloon and they softly played music while the guests in the room mingled. The Campbell's, Alexander's, Cromwell's, and Aunt Tilney were all in the room when I arrived. Miss Jane and Miss Christina Alexander, Christopher Campbell, and Phillip Campbell were all guests too. My arrival was acknowledged by everyone in the room and upon arrival, a servant of the house brought me a full glass of wine. As usual, the dinner party conversed in many different groups, so I walked to the group that was nearest to the door. That group contained my Aunt Tilney, Mrs. Alexander, and the hateful Mr. Cromwell.
"Good evening," I began and they responded in kind. "I'm sorry I am late. I hope I didn't keep you waiting."
"Not at all, you are just in time," My Aunt Tilney responded. I knew that she was only being polite and that if she had known my real identity and that I was her nephew then she would have berated me for not being punctual and not arriving at least ten minutes earlier.
The three members of the group then resumed talking about the topic they were discussing before my arrival interrupted them. As mundane as it sounds, Mrs. Alexander was instructing Mr. Cromwell and Aunt Tilney on the best scenic route to take when travelling from London to Bath. There were questions raised about the duration, the sights that could be seen and the places on the road that could be stopped at along the way. I found it staggering that such a conversation about something so trivial could go to such lengths. I thought inwardly to myself that I was foolish to settle at this party of people when there were more groups in the room that I knew I could have visited first. I could hear Miss Jane and Christopher laughing occasionally over the incessant noise of Mrs. Campbell and I was envious of their position.
My aunt then said that she had a piece of artwork in the house that she had to show Mrs. Alexander. She said that it was a sculpture that had been imported from some foreign country and that it was paramount that Mrs. Alexander saw it and that she gave her honest opinion about the piece.
"Mr. Cromwell, I know that Monsieur Levasseur will have no interest in what I am going to show Mrs. Alexander so perhaps you can stay here with him and keep him company," Ms. Tilney said to James Cromwell.
"Of course, it would give me great pleasure to speak to Monsieur Levasseur privately. I was hoping to have a quiet word with him anyway," James Cromwell responded to my aunt.
There was no discussion between the two of them about what I wanted to do. I was not asked if I wanted to see the art or if I wanted to remain behind to speak privately with James Cromwell. If my opinion had been asked and if I was at liberty to speak openly and honestly then I would have said that both options sounded dire. Despite my thoughts and true feelings, I knew I was shackled to the good manners and behaviour of Monsieur Levasseur, at least for a little longer, which was probably a good thing. Without further discussion or any input needed at all from me, Mrs. Alexander and Ms. Tilney left me alone with James Cromwell.
"I'm very glad you came tonight, Monsieur Levasseur," Cromwell immediately began after the ladies departed from our sides.
"Of course, thank you for the invitation to dinner, Mr. Cromwell," I responded. I hated having to pretend to like the man.
"It was Ms. Tilney's idea. An opportunity for me to atone for last week's theatrics."
"Well, you certainly seem to be looking better than you did last week."
In truth, as I studied James Cromwell's face he still looked as ill as he had last week. His skin was pale and moist like a reptile and his eyes were sunken in with large black bags under them. The only notable difference this time was that he appeared to be sober. Instead of the common glass of wine that all the guests held in their hands, Mr. Cromwell had orange juice squeezed into his.
"Yes, last week was a bad week for me and a moment of weakness. I am deeply ashamed of my words and my actions and my behaviour. I hope you can forgive me and look past them."
"I certainly can, Mr. Cromwell. However, last week when you were shouting you seemed to say that someone was haunting you and coming after you. It sounded very serious. Are you in danger?" I said and I watched his demeanour change to one of nervousness.
"Did I say that at the dinner table? I drank so much that I cannot remember saying that," Cromwell said as his hand began shaking.
"Yes, you said that Mrs. Cromwell's brother, William, was haunting you and was going to punish you for your crimes. Do you remember that, sir?"
"Monsieur Levasseur, can I please ask you to stop. I cannot remember saying those words and I was rambling like a madman. Please try and forget about it just as I
am trying very hard to do." Cromwell's breathing became laboured and beads of sweat started forming and running down his forehead. He was uncomfortable and I loved it.
It was clear for me to see that the conversation was agonizingly painful for James Cromwell to endure. Therefore I found great pleasure in the topic. I did not want to stop talking about the topic even though he had asked me to do so. No, instead I wanted to prolong his suffering and maximise it. Whether or not he truly couldn't remember all the details from the week before, about the words he spoke or the secrets he gave away in front of the dinner party, I couldn't say for certain but I decided to try to keep pushing James Cromwell on the subject until his nerves boiled over and he exposed his guilt to me.
"You said William went swimming, sir. You said something about him going over the side of a boat. I'm not sure that I understood correctly. Can you elaborate for me? After, I will forever drop the subject."
James Cromwell was able to regain composure and answered that the words he spoke were the mutterings of a madman who had drunk too much. He said that William was dead and had been dead for many years. A memory and an ill-timed fever had made Mr. Cromwell's imagination go wild, and in a delirious state, he said ridiculous things. He mixed alcohol with powerful medicine and it led to an undesirable outcome. The outcome was then unfortunately observed by everyone present at the dinner table last week before the ball commenced.
"Mr. Cromwell, I apologise and I now understand the situation. I only ask because I was worried about your health and your safety. You could imagine my surprise and pain when you said to everyone last week that you were in danger. I was even more surprised when you said that it was William, who I knew, was going to be the bringer of your downfall. But I am glad to see that there was nothing to make you think that other than the bad combination of chemicals you drank."
Mr. Cromwell looked down at the floor and was silent after I spoke. Instead of waiting for the conversation to be changed, I pounced on the subject again.
"After all, we have all read the reports of his death. You and the two other treasure hunters must have buried him in the ground and given him a proper funeral."
"No," Cromwell hesitated. "We didn't bury him."
"But you saw his dead body?" I followed up.
"No," again Cromwell responded in the negative.
"Well, then that changes everything quite a bit. Though I won't say he is haunting you for not burying him or that he is still alive and blaming you for something he thinks you did. I think those theories are maybe a little far-fetched."
Mrs. Alexander and Aunt Tilney returned just as the conversation between me and Mr. Cromwell closed. The timing of their return was exquisite as I was able to say everything that I had wanted to during their absence, and because of the interruption which came with the two ladies' return, James Cromwell was not able to respond or say anything. Instead, James Cromwell just stood silently and now looked into his glass.
Upon the return of Aunt Tilney, she proclaimed that the guests should all now move to the dining room as the food was beginning to be brought out by the servants. As we walked through the corridors of the house to the dining room I was able to change which group of the party I was attached to and I initially walked alongside Mr. Campbell and together the two of us discussed the local news and the goings-on around London until I was eventually next to Miss Jane, Christopher, Phillip, and Miss Christina Alexander.
"It is good to see you again, Monsieur Levasseur," Miss Christina Alexander said to me.
"It is lovely to see you again, Miss Alexander. I love the gown you are wearing this evening. It is very elegant and lovely, the same characteristics as you."
"You are so very charming and French, Monsieur Levasseur. Did you enjoy the ball last week?"
"I did. And you?"
"I thought that the music and the company were great but I was hoping to dance a bit more."
"When I saw you, you always seemed to be on the floor and dancing well."
"Yes, I had a few different partners who were so very kind to dance with me but I was hoping to share one dance with you. The last time we danced, I had such a wonderful time. I was hoping that we could share another dance again."
"I apologise, Miss Alexander. I was very tired from my long travel so I was not much in the mood for dancing. At the next ball, I promise you will have my undivided attention for the entire night if you so wish it."
"I do wish it very much and now I cannot wait until the next ball is arranged. I shall start to make plans for organising such an event."
From the first moment I set eyes on Christina, I was captivated by her. Her eyes, her hair, and even her scent made me crave her and her beauty reduced me into a lusting beast. Many months had passed since that time and although I suspected there was mutual interest in each other I was too preoccupied with my objective of revenge to act on it. Likewise, I said inwardly to myself that I would not allow her to distract me that evening like I had said to myself on previous occasions, and after I finished speaking with her about future dances I immediately banished her from my mind. Sometime in the future, I would allow myself to think fondly of her and make plans involving her, but I said to myself that I would not permit myself to be distracted by it when I was so close to the end.
The dinner passed by without too much hassle. There were no changes made to the seating arrangements since the week before and there was no new conversation that wrapped the party in wonder and amazement. Mr. Alexander spoke loudly when talking to Mr. Cromwell so that the entire table party could hear their conversation. The two men spoke about their times together and all the good deeds that Mr. Cromwell had done in the name of charity and religion. It was obvious that Mr. Alexander was trying hard to showcase to everyone that sat around the table that despite Mr. Cromwell's unruly behaviour last week, that he was a gentleman and a scholar.
The dire expression that I had helped place on James Cromwell's face by speaking to him privately about William never left him throughout the dinner. Even when he smiled and laughed with Mr. Alexander, among others at the table, I saw that the conversation I had shared with him had stayed in the front of his mind. I kept a watchful eye on him as I wanted to see and enjoy every moment of pain that he was experiencing.
"How was the meat for you?" Aunt Tilney asked me once the dinner had ended and the plates had been collected by the servants.
"It was delicious, it was all delicious. My compliments to the hosts and to the wonderful chef they have in their employment," I responded.
"What a wonderful statement and one that I think we all share," Mr. Campbell added. "A compliment about good cuisine from a French man is truly a marvellous thing as they are notorious for their outstanding food."
Once the servants removed the plates from the table they then returned to remove the remaining cutlery, napkins and small dishes that were scattered about the table. All that remained on top of the white linen that stretched across the tabletop were cups and saucers for the tea that always was accompanied after the dinner. With the table so bare after the cutlery was removed, Miss Jane and Christopher Campbell proposed that some parlour games should be played. The two young lovers said that the games should be played by all the guests at the dinner table while we relaxed and enjoyed our teas and waited for our food to digest. Christina, Phillip and I agreed to the proposal, as we were the youngest members at the table, while the rest of the party was hesitant. Alice Cromwell was the deciding voice on the matter and although she was not very eager to join in on the games herself she said that it could be a good source of entertainment. I believe that she only agreed to allow the parlour games to take place at the dinner table for the same reason that I wanted to play and that was because Christopher and Miss Jane together came up with the suggestion.
Three separate games were played in total and even the elderly adults, including Aunt Tilney, enjoyed the games. The games involved mimicry, guessing phrases and then there was even a number based game.
We played the three games in total for about forty minutes and then when we grew tired of the games we sat around the table and continued talking with one another.
At a few minutes after half-past nine, a servant came into the room and announced to Mr. and Mrs. Cromwell that a gift had just been delivered to the house. Their initial response was amazement that a gift was delivered so late in the evening. The second thing they wanted to know was who had sent the gift. Finally, they asked what the gift was.
"I'm not sure who sent the gift," the delivery man said that there was no name given to him about the sender and that the piece of paper he received only contained the name and address of the recipients of the gift.
"That is very peculiar. Is it a large gift?"
"Quite large," the servant responded. "It is a piece of artwork."
"It is artwork," Aunt Tilney said delightedly. "Bring it here at once and let us cast our eyes upon it. Mrs. Alexander and I had such an interesting conversation about art earlier this evening. Let us see it and allow us to be the judges of whether it is tasteful art or not."
Obeying the command of Ms. Tilney, the servant went to retrieve the artwork and he arrived back into the room holding a large framed painting. There was a white linen sheet hiding the artwork and the mystery behind the sheet added to the suspense and anticipation of Aunt Tilney who was very keen to see the artwork. As I looked around the table I saw that almost all of the guests were in suspense waiting for the linen to be removed and the artwork to be seen. Christopher Campbell did not know what the painting was, but he knew that Miss Jane was the artist and that I was the sender of the gift. I caught both their eyes as they glanced at me and I made a gesture with my hand to for them to be quiet and not give away the secret. Both Christopher and Miss Jane smiled and nodded at my request, neither truly knowing nor understanding my more sinister motive behind the seemingly harmless gift.
Revenge of an Englishman Page 27
