She tried to draw back, to clutch at his arms and break from his embrace, but her resistance was not sustained, grew feeble and was gone, and her own arms were lifted to circle his neck as she gave up her mouth to his, and pressed her body into him.
At last, drawing back her head a little, she murmured:
'Not now. Soon.'
'You will come to my chamber?'
'I will come. And now we must continue to walk, else they will grow suspicious.'
They had been standing deep beneath a spreading tree that hid them from the wall and the house, and now emerged to stroll down the hushed length of the garden. James tried to think of what to say to her, but no rational words would come to him. To himself, as he walked beside her, and glanced casually back toward the wall: 'I cannot say I love her, I scarce know her at all. I must not say it. For the love of Christ I am a married man, married to the most beautiful and wonderful girl. Why did I let myself go just now? Why did I ask her to come to my room? What possessed me? What possesses me yet? You bloody fool, you wretched bloody fool. What are you doing!'
At length he said:
'I wish I could say that I care more about why we are here, and my duty, and the great thing we attempt, than I do about being with you – but I do not.' His heart thudding.
'You must not say that to me. Nor let anyone in the house hear you say it.'
'At this moment, here, now, it is simply the truth.'
'Do not walk too close to me, do not take my hand in yours. Monsieur Félix will challenge you if he sees you touch me.'
'He is your lover?' Surprised.
'No. No, he never was. But he wished to be, and still wishes it. He torments himself with jealous fantasy. That is why he has thrown us together like this, in the garden. To feed the fire of his jealousy, to torment himself.'
'Will not that distract him from his duty?'
'For him it is everything, and nothing. He sees me, he talks to me, he is with me – without possessing me. It keeps him on a knife edge, and that is why he is so acute a commander. Every nerve in his body is alert, and tingling. He is alive to every threat, and every possibility. It makes him the best man in France for this undertaking. You see?' A flash of the dark eyes.
'Are you quite certain you never had a regard for him ... ?'
'He chills me to the bone.' She shivered. 'But he is one of us, he is at the very centre of our endeavour, and we can do nothing without him.'
At thirty minutes to midnight, several days after, as James waited in his locked bedchamber high under the roof, four large covered carts rolled into the great courtyard below, followed by a single plain carriage and a guard of twenty soldiers.
The convoy from Paris had come.
*
In the morning James was brought downstairs to the oval room, but Madame Maigre was absent. Nor had she come to his room during the night. M. Félix was alone in the room, and it was he who briefed the prisoner – as James was obliged still to think of himself. The angular figure turned, and James was again confronted by that gaunt, unforgiving face.
'The party has arrived, as you may know, Lieutenant.'
'I watched their arrival, monsieur, late last night.'
'Their Majesties have expressed the desire to remain completely secluded during their short stay here. Until it is time for them to go into the ship, they will not emerge, nor will they like to see anyone outside their immediate entourage. You understand?'
'Very good. But I must ask certain questions now, monsieur.'
'Questions? There is nothing more you need to know.'
'Well, but there is. How many?'
'Lieutenant?' Irritably.
'How many are in the entourage, and how many of them will be going to the place, to the inlet at the Pointe de Malaise? In addition to Their Majesties? It is vital that I know the number exact, so that I may arrange places in the boat.'
A conceding nod. 'Yes, I see that is important. There will be twenty persons altogether.'
'Twenty! Nay, I had thought perhaps half a dozen, the immediate family only.'
'Their Majesties have particular needs that must be accommodated, monsieur. They cannot be expected to leave France without their principal aides and bodyservants, and various others.'
A quick, impatient nod, and: 'Monsieur, now it is I that must make something clear. We cannot take twenty people in the boat. The boat's crew will be double-banked on the thwarts, to provide sufficient pulling power to get the boat through the hazardous passage. In addition there will be the officer commanding, the coxswain, and myself. There will room, safely, for at most another six persons, and therefore—'
Over him: 'We can reduce the numbers by a few, perhaps – but you will not be going into the boat, Lieutenant.'
'What?'
'No, you will remain with us, until word comes that Their Majesties are safe. That they have reached their destination, and are safe.'
'That is quite impossible, monsieur. If I do not go into the boat, then the boat will not take anyone aboard at all.'
'You cannot mean it.' With open contempt. 'You seriously suggest that you are of greater importance than Their Majesties?'
'I suggest nothing of the kind, in my own right. I am merely following orders. I am to go into the boat, and return to the ship. You yourself, however, have given me sufficient importance to try to hold me hostage against Their Majesties' safety. I don't rate myself so high. I repeat, I merely seek to follow my orders.'
Most of this was pure bluff, and James was unsurprised when M. Félix countered with:
'Your orders have been changed, Lieutenant.'
'By whom?'
'By myself.'
'You have no authority to issue orders to me, monsieur. My orders are issued only in England.'
'Not whilst you are in France, monsieur.' Dismissively, looking out of the window.
'Where is Madame Maigre? I wish to speak to her.'
Turning with a cold stare: 'Madame Maigre cannot aid you, monsieur. She is not in command. Her duties here are now complete, and she will return to Paris.'
'To Paris? Why? When Their Majesties are here, what is there for her to do in Paris, now?'
'There are many others who will wish to leave France, once it becomes clear the king has gone. Madame Maigre will be invaluable in aiding and guiding and assisting them.' A breath. 'You will be returned to your room, Lieutenant, until we are ready for you to go to the inlet and make your signals to the ship.'
'I will make no such signals, monsieur, unless I am permitted to go into that boat.' Defiantly.
'Do not be foolish. I personally would take great pleasure in putting you to torture, if you failed to comply. Serge!'
His dour assistant entered and stood waiting. James glanced out of the window, nodded there, and:
'With your permission, monsieur, I should like five minutes of fresh air. Surely that is not too much to ask, when you ask so much of me?'
A long, bleak glance, then M. Félix nodded. James was taken out into the garden and allowed to walk – with Serge not far behind. James wandered under the trees and snuffed the fragrant shade, but his head was wholly at odds with his tranquil surroundings.
'I must contrive to escape with the royal party. I must contrive to bring Madame Maigre out with me. I will not leave her behind. I will not.' A glance toward Serge, and he wondered briefly if he could not make a dash for the far wall now, and freedom. As if sensing such a possibility, Serge had moved closer.
James paced slowly down the length of the garden, turned casually and glanced up at the high windows of the château. Where was the royal party concealed? In which room was Madame Maigre? A nod to Serge, and he lingered a moment, breathing the soft air.
Il faut que je méchappe.' And he found that he was talking to himself in French saying that he must find a way out. He allowed himself a brief ironic smile. He must think like an Englishman, and try to answer the many questions that jostled in his head in English. What destinat
ion had been decided upon for the king and queen? And by whom? Had they decided it themselves? Or had they been advised where to go by the British government? No mention of this had been made to James by Mr Mappin. Mappin had said nothing about the French royal family at all, indeed.
Presently Serge grew impatient, and gestured to James that they should return to the house.
'A beautiful day, is it not?' James said to him, as they set off. 'C'est magnifique.'
And received no hint of a response.
*
Expedient was not near her own destination as night fell. She lay virtually becalmed some way to the west of the Channel Isles. There was a slow, somnolent, glassy swell in the twilight, and the frigate's sails hung limp. Rennie had paced his deck in an agony of frustration, sent out the boats, then brought the hands back aboard to supper, the boats towed astern. Now, as the watch changed at hammocks down:
'I will go below, Mr Leigh.' To the new officer of the deck.
'Very good, sir. You wish to see the glass-by-glass notations?' Stepping to the binnacle, and removing the noted log under the light.
'No no. There will be nothing in them of the slightest interest, hey?'
'I fear not, sir. Only the lack of progress of the ship.' Returning the notes.
'Indeed. We may only hope for a relieving breeze. Pray for one, will you?'
In the great cabin Rennie sat alone at a late supper, pushed it aside, drank off a glass of wine, and began to write up his journal. The cat Dulcie joined him, leapt into his lap, and fell asleep. Each time he reached to dip his quill in the ink the slight movement caused the furled creature to emit an astonishingly loud purr, like nasal drumming, and to flex her claws against Rennie's legs, to remind him of her affection, lately restored after a prolonged period of hauteur and indifference to his own repeated offers of friendship. Gently, fondly:
'Aye, Dulcie, aye. I am aware of you there, my dear.'
He wrote:
At four bells of the second dog watch, & hammocks down, in light airs & the ship making no headway.
At noon she lay at 3 degrees & 55 minutes W
48 degrees & 29 minutes N
& our progress since has been woeful slow.
The boats hoisted out following on the declaration of noon, & an attempt was made to bring the ship to a breeze, to no avail, & I ordered the boats' crews inboard subsequent to eat their supper, and the boats towed.
Today during the afternoon watch were sighted three Indiamen bound NE at a league & one half distant, very slow, & we did not speak. Chasse-marées & bisquines also, eastward.
The patched repair to the bow remains adequate.
We suffer no sick men, & in consequence Dr Wing is content. I am not. We must reach our design tomorrow, or fail.
WR
'What system of lantern signals had been arranged, Lieutenant?' M. Félix, to James. They were standing in darkness on the rocky beach of the inlet, in the dank tidal whiff of seaweed.
'Three long flashes of a lantern, at regular intervals of a minute, until an answer was observed. Then the boat was to come in.'
'Very well.' He gave an instruction to his assistant, there was a brief clatter of disturbed shingles, and the lantern was produced. 'We will begin.'
After half an hour, when no answering light could be seen to seaward, M. Félix:
'We will wait a further hour, and signal again.'
'Have you a flask with you, monsieur?'
'Flask? No.'
'Perhaps your man has one ... ?'
'My man?'
'Your servant. Serge.'
'Serge is not my servant, Lieutenant. He is my nephew. And he does not drink anything except water, or goat's milk.'
'Ah. Not even wine?'
'He is very careful of his health.'
'As am I, Monsieur Félix, and the damp air does not aid it.' A breath, he kicked away a pebble from under his shoe, and: 'Has Madame Maigre returned to Paris?'
A moment of silence, then: 'Why do you ask that?'
'I wished to know if she had left the château. I believe that if she returns to Paris she will be in very grave danger, once it becomes known that the king has flown.'
'She will remain here until Their Majesties are safely in the ship – and then she will go.'
'You will not like to consider the danger she may be in, if she—'
'I will not, Lieutenant.' Sharply, over him. 'Your concern is Their Majesties' passage away from France, and nothing else.'
'Yes, in course it is my concern ... and I do not yet know their destination. I have been told nothing about that. Will you tell me where they are going?'
'When they arrive there, and news of their arrival reaches us here, then you will be free to go. Until then their destination does not concern you, Lieutenant.'
'Why was not I permitted even to see the king and queen? Would not it be sound sense for them to see me before they go into the boat, so that Their Majesties would not be alarmed by a strange face among them on the beach?'
'When the boat comes ashore you will be returned to the château at once. You will not see Their Majesties – who wait separately – and they will not see you, when there is plainly no need.'
'My God, I cannot understand why you wish to treat me so churlish, monsieur, when I—'
'Churlish? Lieutenant, I must ask you to be silent.' Sharply, over him. 'Your questions are irksome to me. In truth I do not enjoy your conversation at all. It is repetitive, whining with complaint, and dull. I thought the English prided themselves on their fortitude, and wit.'
James bit his tongue, counted to twenty, and effortfully kept his temper. The wash of the sea on the rocks, the occasional rattle of a stone as one of them shifted his feet, and the drifting reek of seaweed, and shellfish. They waited a further hour, signalled again, and again found no response.
'The ship will not come tonight, monsieur.'
'We will wait, and try again.'
Further hours passed, the same procedure was followed, and produced – nothing.
As dawn approached James yawned, and stood up – they had all sat down on the rocks long since – and stretched to ease his numb backside and stiff limbs.
'Expedient will not come, Monsieur Félix.'
No response.
James rubbed his face, sighed, and: 'The ship is not here, she is delayed. We must return to the château, and wait another day.' To his surprise M. Félix grunted, grumbled, and allowed:
'Hm, perhaps after all you are right, Lieutenant. It has been a long night, and we are all tired.'
They climbed the cliff, and returned to the Château de Châtaigne in a covered cart, a horseman riding ahead. James's blindfold was not replaced for this journey, and he saw that the house was not more than two miles inland, hidden in a vale, and approached by a circuitous route through orchards and woodland, the road little more than a winding lane. When they reached the château they did not go in by the great gate, but came to the rear and a small gate let into the wall under a spreading tree. For the first time James saw the extent and grandeur of the house and surrounds. From this side the château looked almost like a fortress, a place much older than he had at first imagined.
He was taken to his bedchamber, and again locked in. He lay down on the cot and at once sank into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.
When he woke hours later it was to the scraping and turning of a key in the lock. He heard soft footfalls, and felt someone sit on the end of the bed. For a moment or two he had no notion where he was. At home, in Birch Cottage? Nay, there was no room like this in Dorset. Light from a tall window at the end of the room. Afternoon light, he thought. He sat up, blinking in that light, scratched his head, drew in a breath – and saw Madame Maigre. Heaven, her looks.
He said in French: 'You have not gone away.' Using 'tu'.
'I have not gone away. I wished to see you first.' Softly, using 'tu'.
'I am so very glad.' Heartfelt. All thought of Dorset flying from him.
They talked through the late afternoon, and into the softening, fading light of evening. He wished to know her given name.
'What is yours?' she countered.
'I am James. James Rondo.'
'I like Rondo best. It is more gallant, and romantic. I shall call you Rondo.'
A sudden pang, and he frowned. 'I would prefer that you did not.'
'No? Why not?' Amused.
'I – I am not at ease with that name any more.'
Gently, seeing that he was troubled: 'Then I shall call you James.'
'Thank you, I prefer James.' Smiling at her. 'And now tell me your name.'
'Juliette. But I am not Madame Maigre. That is a false name.'
Turning to look at her. 'Ah, you mean – just as my name when I first came ashore was Henry Tonnelier?'
'Yes. We all live and work under these invented names. Thus, if we are ever taken, our families cannot be harmed.'
He was tempted to ask her if she was married – and then did not. She would certainly ask the same of him, and he did not wish to think of his home, and Catherine, and all of his past and future life in England. He did not wish to feel any further regret or remorse, with Juliette's scent in his nose and hair and the taste of her on his tongue. Not now. Not at this moment of languor and easy voices in the quiet magical air.
Presently Juliette: 'Talking of names, do you know Lady Sybil Cranham?'
'No.' Propping himself on elbow to look at her. 'Who is she?'
'She has helped to arrange this escape for us, through her friends in London. Your ship. You yourself.'
'I have never met her. I know nothing about her, except what you have just told to me. She is your friend?'
The Gathering Storm Page 15
