Pyke looked at Helen and Kate and said, ‘And the princess was born on the twenty-fifth of May?’
‘The twenty-fourth,’ Helen said, in a tone that suggested she’d read the letters, too, and knew.
‘Even if it’s not definitive proof,’ Pyke said, ‘a man like Cumberland would seize hold of this and never let it go. He’s like a dog with a bone that way.’
Cumberland, who was next in line to the throne; Cumberland, who had kidnapped Emily and Felix…
‘It isn’t ever going to go away, is it?’ Kate asked, staring glumly at her little sister. Milly gave her a supportive hug.
‘Not unless you allow me to do something with this.’ He held up the second letter and briefly wondered why Conroy hadn’t destroyed it; perhaps he’d kept it to use for his own purpose at some future point.
‘Make it public?’ Kate seemed aghast and Helen stepped in and said, ‘ Never. I’ll not allow the princess to be hurt.’
Pyke gave them both a hard stare. ‘Listen, I want Cumberland to be our next king even less than you do, but in order to be able to make this problem go away, I’m going to need two things. The letters…’
‘And?’ Helen and Kate said at the same time.
‘An audience with the princess.’ Among other things, he needed to ask her about royal seals.
‘You’re planning to tell her about this?’ Helen said, appalled.
Pyke shook his head. ‘But I need to see her, for her own good, if nothing else.’
‘Conroy won’t sanction it.’
‘Allow me to worry about the comptroller,’ he said, wondering whether the replacement carriage had yet returned to Ramsgate with the stranded passengers.
‘Lehzen would never allow it, either. She’s very, very protective of the princess.’
‘I’m not planning to ask her permission.’
‘You mean you’re just going to barge into the princess’s room?’
He looked at the lady of the bedchamber and smiled. ‘That’s where you’re going to help me.’
TWENTY-NINE
In the darkness Pyke moved carefully around the dressing table, taking care not to disturb the yellow chintz curtains, and approached the four-poster bed where the princess lay under a Marseilles quilt. A sharp intake of breath was quickly followed by her sudden move bolt upright. ‘Who’s there?’ a small, timid voice asked. ‘Is that you, Lehzen?’ The sixteen-year-old princess was sitting up in the bed, her pinched cheeks and pointy chin just about visible in the gloom.
‘Don’t be alarmed and above all don’t shout for help. My name’s Pyke. I come as a friend. I have information about Sir John Conroy I know you’ll want to hear.’ He spoke quietly but firmly and stood at the end of the bed, not daring or wanting to get any closer to her.
There was a long pause, neither of them moving at all, and Pyke prepared himself for a scream or a cry for help.
It didn’t come.
‘Rest assured, sir, that if you come any closer or attempt to hurt or even touch me in any way I will scream as loudly as I can and within seconds there will sufficient bodies in this room to restrain you. Is that quite clear?’
‘Yes.’
‘Please continue.’ Pyke could hear the tension in her voice but she didn’t sound panicked.
‘Do you remember a female servant called Kate Sutton who worked in the kitchen at Kensington Palace and came with you here to Ramsgate?’
The princess sat forward in her bed. ‘Yes, I do. I was sorry to hear that she left her post. She was a sweet thing.’
A moment’s silence passed between them. ‘Do you know why she left?’
She laughed gently. ‘I’m afraid I’m never told about such matters.’
‘She was put in fear for her life because she saw something in the kitchen,’ Pyke whispered, taking a step closer to the bed.
‘Come closer, sir. I can’t hear you properly.’ Victoria pointed to a chair. ‘Sit down and tell me about the young girl.’
‘She saw Sir John Conroy introducing something into your food.’ He paused for a moment, to allow the information to be absorbed, and then sat down on the chair. ‘A small dose of arsenic perhaps.’ Up close, he saw that the skin was hanging off her cheekbones and her head was almost entirely bald, just a few wisps remaining at the back and the sides.
‘You’re suggesting Conroy has been trying to poison me?’ There was incredulity in her voice.
‘Fortunately for you, Kate informed your lady of the bedchamber, Helen Milner-Gibson, who in turn told Lehzen. For the last few months, I’m told, Lehzen has overseen the preparation and delivery of all your meals.’
This seemed to intrigue her. ‘I’ve been wondering why Lehzen has shown such an interest in what I eat.’ She paused for a moment, to digest this news. ‘You say Helen M-G is a friend? I always thought she’d been chosen for the post by Conroy to spy on me.’ The princess laughed and became self-conscious, trying to arrange her few remaining locks of hair. ‘It was falling out due to my illness. Lehzen cut the rest of it off but she assures me it’ll grow back.’
Pyke watched her for a while and decided that she reminded him of Felix; they were both frail, both prone to illness and both isolated from the world. ‘Perhaps whatever Conroy put in your food contributed to your illness.’
‘Dr Clark said I’d contracted some kind of fever.’
‘And was Dr Clark brought here to look after you by Conroy?’
The princess was silent while she considered what he’d told her. ‘Just before I got sick,’ she said, eventually, ‘I had a visit from my beloved uncle, Leopold, and his darling wife, Louise. I asked how I should go about preparing to be queen. He told me to beware of wolves in sheep’s clothing.’
‘And you think he was referring to Conroy?’
‘Perhaps.’ She shrugged. ‘Uncle Leopold didn’t mention anyone in particular. But I do know Conroy dislikes me. He thinks I’m sickly, spoiled, girlish, prone to whims and flights of fancy, frivolous and intellectually younger than my years.’ She spoke as if she were quoting him.
‘Should I assume that the antipathy is mutual?’
That drew a slight giggle. ‘Perhaps, but I’m afraid my mother adores him and in case you haven’t noticed I’m a minor.’ She paused for a moment to rearrange her pillows. ‘But he also needs me. I should add that he calls me those things merely to press my mother’s case for a regency, even if the King lives until I come of age.’
‘I don’t think Conroy wanted to kill you. I’m guessing he wanted to weaken you in order to tighten his control over your affairs.’ Pyke hesitated. ‘Tell me this: did Conroy try and seize upon your illness for his own ends?’
Victoria considered this for a moment. ‘A few weeks ago, when the fever was at its worst, he tried to put a quill in my shaking hand and persuade me to sign a document appointing him as my private secretary when I become queen.’
If you become queen, Pyke thought grimly, as he considered the letter hidden in his pocket.
‘Lehzen chased Conroy out of the room. She hates him even more than I do.’ This memory seemed to cheer her up.
‘And where does your mother stand in all this?’
‘My mother claims to have my best interests at heart. It’s why I’m locked up like a common prisoner at Kensington Palace and not permitted to play any part in court life. Apparently it’s for my own good. I’m to be protected from the loose morals of my uncle’s court: the vice of Windsor versus the virtue of Kensington.’ She laughed bitterly. ‘In fact, my mother yearns for the prestige and wealth a regency would give her and she’s utterly under Conroy’s influence, even to the…’
The young princess froze. Footsteps approached the door and someone turned the handle. Pyke had no choice but to hide under the bed. He did so quickly and quietly but still didn’t know whether he’d been heard. ‘My dear? Are you awake?’ The voice was a female one, with a faintly Germanic accent. ‘I thought I heard voices,’ Baroness Lehzen whispered to someone else
. Pyke could see her ankles silhouetted against the light from the other room and briefly wondered whether she was talking to the comptroller. If either of them decided to look under the bed, he would be finished. Who would believe he hadn’t tried to defile the impressionable princess? People had hung for far less.
But then Lehzen crept back out of the room and gently closed the door behind her. Pyke slid out from under the bed, stood up and straightened his frock-coat. The princess giggled a little and whispered, ‘That was a close shave.’ And when Pyke didn’t respond, she added, in the same breathy tone, ‘You wouldn’t believe how dull my life is, Mr Pyke. I’m a girl and I want to do some of the things that girls of my age are meant to do. Go to balls, dance, listen to music, meet brilliant people.’ This time she looked directly at him. ‘It’s like a prison with golden bars.’
Suddenly nervous, Pyke looked across at the closed door. ‘Can I offer you a word of advice before I go?’
She nodded meekly but seemed upset that he was about to leave her.
‘Make what I’ve told you yours and Lehzen’s secret. Helen knows, too, and you should remember what she’s done for you. In addition, you should insist that the kitchen girl, Kate, is reinstated, if, that is, she wants her old job back.’
‘And if Conroy objects?’
‘I don’t think Conroy will be a problem. He’ll be as meek as a lamb when I’ve finished with him.’
That precipitated a sharp intake of breath. ‘You won’t hurt him, will you?’
‘Try to be strong and resolute, but don’t let Conroy know that you know anything. His own belief in your ignorance will be your strength. You mightn’t have the power at the moment to deal with him or your mother but when you become queen, that’s the time to take action. Until then, just remember this: keep your friends close but your enemies closer.’
‘Do you have to go?’ she asked, with a pout.
‘I do have a question I’d like to put to you, if you don’t mind.’
‘Oh?’
‘Might it be possible for someone with, let’s say, the right connections to steal your royal seal and thereby pass off a letter they’d written as one of yours?’
The young princess sat up in her bed, intrigued now. ‘I always keep my seal close at hand but I suppose it’s always possible that someone could steal it. Why do you ask?’
Pyke removed the ransom note he’d received apparently from the duke. He hadn’t wanted to involve the princess in the unsavoury business of the abduction but it suddenly struck him that she might recognise the handwriting.
Victoria took the note and, to help her read it, Pyke took out a box of matches and struck one against the wooden floor. It flared into light and he held it up to the note as the princess studied it.
‘Well?’
The match had died, once again returning the room to near-darkness.
‘Your wife and child are being held for a ransom?’ The horror in her voice was unmistakable.
‘Do you know whether the handwriting is Conroy’s?’
‘No, it’s not his.’
Pyke exhaled, not sure whether he was relieved or disappointed.
‘But I think I might recognise it.’ The princess was frowning. ‘I can’t think how or where from, though.’
‘His private secretary, perhaps?’
‘No, that wouldn’t be it. His writing is much harder to read.’
‘Please. It’s very important…’
‘I can see that, sir. I just can’t recall…’ She closed her eyes and tried to will an answer from her mind.
Pyke wondered whether a sudden, hard slap to her face might jog her memory, but she would probably scream. He checked his watch. The sun would be rising soon and he needed to wake Milly and Kate and get them all to the mail coach before it left for the capital at six.
‘But you think it might be someone in Conroy’s employ?’
‘Possibly.’ The princess looked up at him sorrowfully. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been of more help.’
Pyke assured her that she had been a great help and prepared himself to depart. As he did so, the princess said, ‘But you really think Conroy might have been the one who’s kidnapped your wife and child?’ She almost seemed to shudder at the possibility.
‘I don’t know. It’s possible.’
‘And this letter that’s referred to in the ransom note? If you don’t mind me asking, what is it?’
‘I can’t tell you,’ Pyke said, bluntly.
‘Of course you can tell me.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Pyke bowed his head. ‘But did you notice the seal at the bottom of the note?’ Lighting a second match, he let her have another look at it.
She studied it carefully, her frown deepening. ‘That would seem to be my uncle’s seal.’
‘Would it be possible for someone else to have sent the letter?’
‘You mean, for someone to have stolen my uncle’s seal?’
Pyke nodded.
The princess thought about it for a few moments and shrugged. ‘One tends to keep one’s seal well guarded for obvious reasons. But it wouldn’t be impossible for a servant, let’s say, to purloin it.’ She sat up further in the bed. ‘You suspect Conroy, don’t you?’
‘I suspect everyone until they prove themselves innocent. ’
‘Even me?’
Laughing, Pyke turned towards the door.
But the princess called him back. ‘You’ve made a powerful impression on me, Mr Pyke. I feel much better knowing what I now know, and I’m very grateful for the news you brought me. I’m also appalled by the prospect that Conroy might have had something to do with the letter you showed me and I’m desperately sorry for your predicament.’ She looked across at him, a pained expression on her face.
‘But?’
‘But whether I like it or not, Conroy is an integral part of this household and any misdeed that he may or may not have committed will necessarily tarnish the reputation of Kensington itself. That would have very serious repercussions. What I’m labouring to say is that while I despise Conroy perhaps more than any person alive, if something were to happen to him, if some terrible calamity were to befall him, I might decide you’re not as well meaning as I think you are. Is that understood?’
Their eyes met. Pyke smiled to himself. His initial impression had been wrong. Felix would have to do a lot of growing up before he was anything like this formidable person.
Then making an exaggerated bow, Pyke knelt down in front of her and bowed his head. ‘Your majesty.’ That made her squeal with delight and once again she was a sixteen-year-old girl.
Pyke travelled back to London with Kate and Milly Sutton and put them up in a hotel in Leicester Square until the matter with Conroy was resolved. From there, he took a hackney cab back to his Islington town house, where he rested for a while, washed and changed his clothes. It was almost midnight by the time he met Townsend in the taproom of the Old Red Lion. The three-mile walk from Islington had woken him up but Pyke felt anything but relaxed. He looked around the crowded room at the costermongers dressed in long shooting jackets and the petty thieves in their dirty smock-frocks. The tiled floor was damp with butcher’s sawdust and the air was laced with the scent of sweat, cheap tobacco and gin.
‘I could only round up eleven men at such short notice,’ Townsend explained, ‘but the rifles weren’t a problem. I managed to lay my hands on half a dozen Baker’s rifles, with enough ammunition to start a small war.’
‘Just eleven?’ It wouldn’t be enough. But to properly seal off the whole field, he would have needed a hundred men.
‘You’re not going to be happy with the ones you’ve got, either.’
‘Why?’
‘Follow me.’
Townsend was right. They were a motley bunch, a ragbag mixture of ex-soldiers, retired Bow Street Runners and petty criminals. More worryingly, from his point of view, they were halfway to being drunk. Pyke could see it in their glassy, bloodshot stares and smell it on their
breath. Having cleared it first with the landlord, he ordered them outside into the yard at the back of the building. It was a cold night and the men quickly started to grumble.
‘Do you want the ten pounds I’m offering to pay you?’
They looked at one another, perplexed, and then at him. A few of them mumbled their assent.
‘Then strip.’
Their bewildered looks hardened into recalcitrant stares; a few of them shook their heads.
The landlord appeared carrying two metal pails full of water and behind him were two potboys, each with a single pail. They left the pails in the yard and disappeared back into the building.
‘I said strip.’
Some of the men realised he was being serious and grudgingly started to remove their boots and socks. A few stood there, their arms folded, not moving, and one man in particular, a brutish fellow with a prison-cropped head and a scar running down one side of his face, muttered, ‘I ain’t taking my clothes off for no one.’ The others stopped what they were doing to see how Pyke would respond.
‘Then you can leave now.’ Pyke met his stare. ‘You’re no longer wanted.’
Arms still folded, he sniffed and looked around him. Perhaps he felt safe among his fellow mercenaries. ‘I gave up another job to be here. I still expect to be paid.’ He had a knife in his belt, Pyke noted, wondering how quickly he would be able to retrieve it.
The Revenge of Captain Paine pm-2 Page 41
