'I will like to reward you, Captain Rennie, you and Lieutenant Hayter both.' Well, that was clear enough, by God. Clear and unequivocal. Their careers in the Royal Navy were safe.
'I must say a word to James, at once. It will lift him.' And he hurried along the corridor to James's room. Knocked, waited, knocked again. No reply. He waited another moment, then called:
'James? Are you awake, dear fellow?'
No response. Rennie knocked once more, then when he heard nothing he tried the handle, and found the door unlocked. He opened it.
'James?'
The room was empty. The bed had been stripped, and cupboards stood open and bare. A footfall behind him, and Rennie turned. A maidservant, her arms laden with fresh bedlinen.
'Oh, sir – I thought you was gone. I was jus' about to turn out your room.'
'Turn out my room?'
'Yes, sir. The other gen'man – your friend – paid his bill and went away this morning, sir. I thought you was certain to've gone with him.'
'Paid his bill and left ...'
'Yes, sir, with his lady friend.'
'Lady friend?' Rennie stared at the girl. 'D'y'mean – his wife?'
The maid blushed, and shifted the linen from one arm to the other.
'Perhaps it was his wife, sir. I – I do not rightly know. She was a French lady, I think.'
'French!' Brushing past the maid, knocking folded sheets to the floor. 'The damn' fool!'
Rennie ran down the stair and confronted Mrs Peebles in her parlour.
'When did Lieutenant Hayter leave?'
'About half an hour after you went out yourself, sir. He paid his bill, and—'
'And he did not leave word where he was going?'
'No, sir.'
'The lady that accompanied him, was she French?'
'She was a lady cert'nly. And yes, I b'lieve she was French. They was talking French as they went out.'
'And how long have they been gone? An hour?'
'Really, Captain Rennie, you must not distress me so with all these questions. I don't care for upset in my house, I do not. This is a quiet, decent house, for gentlefolk.'
'Yes, I do beg your pardon, Mrs Peebles. Was not the matter very urgent I should not trouble you so insistent.' He put down a guinea on the table.
'You wish to settle your bill, Captain Rennie?' Carefully polite.
'I wish you to aid me, Mrs Peebles.' Looking at her very direct. 'Now then, which way did they go?'
'I think they may have turned down toward the Strand, but I cannot be certain.'
'They had no carriage?'
'I don't think so, no. They cert'nly never sent for one from here.'
'Very well, thank you, Mrs Peebles.' Rennie stared down the passage a moment, and rubbed the back of his neck.
'Will you be leaving us yourself, sir? Now that your friend has gone?'
'Yes. No. I – I am not quite certain, just at present. I will let you know – later.'
'Thank you, sir.' She smiled, and discreetly removed the offending guinea.
*
'Where do you take me, James?' Juliette, looking out of the windows of the carriage he had secured for them.
'To my brother Nicholas, at Lambeth. We should probably have gone there last night.'
'To your brother? Why not to another hotel?'
'Hotel staff may be bribed, and guests observed coming and going.'
'You think we are watched?'
'Listen now, my love, and attend me very close.' Looking behind through the oval window, then leaning near to her, and looking at her intently. 'You are sought in France. You came here by clandestine means. I will not ask how, nor with whose aid, but I do not trust anyone with connection to this affair. My brother has lately moved to Lambeth from his apartments at Lincoln's Inn, where he practises the law. He wished to be very private at his new house, and has told only close members of the family where it lies. People who would wish to find you, and me – and do us harm – cannot possibly discover us at Lambeth.'
'You think we are in such danger – even here in England.'
'I do, by God. You and I have been engaged in attempting to smuggle King Louis out of France, have we not? You know that you are sought in France, but why not here, also? Will not the revolutionists wish to discover and take vengeance upon those in England who aided the attempt? We can afford to trust no one at all.'
'Not even each other?' A little smile.
He did not reply, but simply glanced at her as if to say that making jokes now was foolish.
This mute response did not entirely satisfy her as the carriage turned and rattled over Blackfriars Bridge, and her face said so. James was too preoccupied to notice.
'We are going the long way round to Lambeth.' James, as they passed over the wide brown river. 'We could readily have gone by a closer bridge ...' Again glancing behind through the oval window '... but I wished to be careful.'
The carriage passed down Great Surrey Street and into Lambeth Road. James began to relax a little, and ceased peering behind. They came to Paradise Walk, and open fields. The carriage turned down a lane toward a stand of trees and a substantial low-built house, set well back in a wide garden. James signalled to the driver by tapping on the inside roof, and the horses were pulled up. A moment of quiet.
James opened the door and got out, and folded down the step for Juliette. To the driver he said:
'Wait here a moment.'
He led Juliette through an arched gateway and along a path. A covered portico, and a bell-pull. James rang the bell, and presently the red-painted door was opened by a maidservant.
'Good morning. Is the master at home?'
'You wish to see Mr Sacheverell, sir?'
'Erm, no ... Mr Hayter. Who is Mr Sacheverell?'
'He is the other gen'man that lives here, sir.'
'Ah. Thank you.' A quick glance at Juliette, then: 'Will you say to Mr Hayter that his brother James wishes to see him.'
'Well, sir – that is why I arst. Mr Hayter ain't here at present. Only Mr Sacheverell. You wish to see him, sir?'
'Erm ... yes. Yes, certainly. Mr Sacheverell.'
'Very good, sir. Will you come in, and wait in the library?'
James and Juliette were shown into a small green pleasant room, lined on three sides with bookshelves; on the fourth a window gave on to a green garden. Library steps stood in a corner. Near the window were a standing globe and a small leather-topped desk. On the desk, a silver inkwell, a pouncebox, a bundle of quills. The faint scent of cologne on the air.
Five minutes passed. Ten. A bracket clock pinged the quarter hour. Then the door was opened, and in stepped Mr Sacheverell, striking in a quilted green coat, black britches and black silk slippers. In a neutral, not quite languid tone:
'My apologies for having kept you waiting, but Nicholas did not warn me you was coming. I am Handeside Sacheverell. My friends call me Handy.'
James bowed. 'Lieutenant James Hayter, RN. May I present you to my friend Madame Maigre?'
The formalities, and they all sat down.
'How may I assist?' Mr Sacheverell turned his languid gaze on James.
'Well, in fact I wished to see Nicholas, Mr Sacheverell. I see now that—'
'Handy.'
'Yes, I beg your pardon. Handy. I see now that I should have gone to his chambers at Lincoln's Inn, where he—'
'Oh, he ain't there.'
'No?'
'No no, he is at home.'
'Home ... ? You mean, he is at Melton?'
'Yes, he has gone down to Dorset for a week, to see his mother. Forgive me, she is your mother too, in course. Lady Hayter.'
'Yes, hm. In truth I had wished to stay here with my brother a few days. But this is your house, Mr Sacheverell. Handy. And I could not impose on your—'
'It ain't my house, you know. No, I share it with Nicholas, but it is his house.'
'Then, I wonder if it will be an imposition to ask ... ?'
'By all means
, stay as long as you like. There is plenty of room. You came in a carriage?'
'Yes, it's outside, in the lane.'
'Then Jeffers will bring in your bags, and ask the driver to wait.'
'The driver needn't wait.'
'Oh, but surely—'
James, over him: 'Mr Sachev— Handy. Please don't think me impertinent, but what is your situation here? My brother has never spoken of you. Are you yourself a lawyer?'
'Nay, I am not.' Easily.
'Then – are you my brother's man of business?'
'Not that, neither. Nor his amanuensis. I am simply – his friend. We are neither of us married men, and it suits us very well to share this house.'
James glanced out of the window. 'Yes, it is a very pleasant house, in a pleasant setting. I can see why my brother took it.'
'Very pleasant, and very private. We are not disturbed here.'
'I – I hope that we will not disturb you.'
'We?' A quick look at Juliette. 'Ahh – you mean that you and Madame Maigre both wish to stay here?'
'Well – yes.'
'Ahh ...'
'Just for a short time, you know. A day or two, until ...'
'Until?' Again glancing at Juliette.
James leaned forward. 'You are my brother's friend, so I am going to be candid, and trust you. We wish to hide here.'
'Hide?'
'Yes, we wish to hide because—'
'We are pursued, monsieur.' Juliette, over him. 'You understand?'
Mr Sacheverell again looked at her, more appraisingly this time, and gave a little grimace of comprehension.
'Yes, you are lovers. You wish to be lovers undetected. I do understand, I assure you. You will be quite safe here with me. – Jeffers!'
He rang a bell. A manservant appeared and Mr Sacheverell instructed him to bring in the visitors' bags. James gave the man money for the carriage, and told him to send it away.
Presently James and Juliette were shown to their adjoining rooms, with the invitation to join Mr Sacheverell for a 'light luncheon' at one o'clock.
'James, what will we do ... afterward?' Juliette, her hand on James's. They stood in the open connecting doorway between their two rooms.
'Afterward?'
'Oui, ensuite. When we have stopped running away.'
'Well – we will find a house.' With a confidence he did not feel, patting her hand. She withdrew her hand.
'Where?'
'Somewhere in England, I expect.'
'But you have a wife in England.'
'Yes, thank you for reminding me. My brother will no doubt see her when he is in Dorset. She is living at my father's house at present.'
'You will go back to her, will you not ... ?'
'Why do you ask me these things, Juliette, when our circumstances are difficult enough? I might equally ask whether or no you intend to return to France.'
'I cannot go back there. I can never go back, now.!'
James was silent a moment, and the quiet of the house, broken only by the silver notes of birds, rising and floating across the quiet green garden outside, emphasised their solitude and seclusion. Juliette touched James's face, and he turned his head to look into her eyes. A breath, and she said:
'I am sorry. Forgive me. We will live day by day together – until we are free.'
*
At luncheon Mr Sacheverell happily conversed with Juliette in French, on trivial subjects. He made it clear to her, politely but firmly, that he wished to know nothing of the present difficulties in France, nor of her own particular circumstances in that regard. They discussed the benign climate of the south; provincial manners compared with Parisian manners, &c., &c.; French cooking; wine. After luncheon, when Juliette had gone to rest, Mr Sacheverell took James's arm and they went into the garden. As they walked under the trees:
'Nicholas has engaged Laidlaw to transform the lower half of the garden. It is two acres, nearly two acres and a half. You know Laidlaw?'
'I confess I do not.' Slightly uncomfortable.
'No? He is the coming man. Not perhaps at such a premium as Brown, or Kent, or Repton, nor on the same scale of landscape – but on the smaller scale, a few acres, he is sublime. I will show you the drawings afterward, if you would like to see them?'
'I should like to very much.' For something to say.
'And now I must broach another subject.' Pausing and turning to James. An intake of breath. 'What am I to say to Nicholas?'
'Say to him?'
'Now, now, James – I may call you James?'
'In course you may – Handy.'
'Good. Now.' Again the pause, and the glance. 'You and I both know that I cannot pretend that you was never here, when Nicholas returns – hey?'
'Nay, in course you cannot. Why should you?'
'Exact, exact. I must tell him everything. So. What shall I say about your friend Madame Maigre? After all, you are a married man.'
'Be candid.'
'Ahh. Candid. Candid ... entire?'
'Yes. Yes.' Nodding. 'I should not wish you to dissimulate. You must tell my brother everything, as you said.'
'But your wife is at Melton, ain't she? Nicholas will have seen her there, and they will have talked of you, will not they?'
'I expect so.'
'Yes. I see that you do wish to speculate as to his feelings on the matter, when he learns that you have been here with another woman. Hm. Hm. But you see I know Nicholas very well.' Tapping his chin with a finger. 'He is a curious amalgam of emotions and attitudes, your brother. On the one hand generous-spirited, humane, the least censorious of men – and on the other ...'
'Yes, I know. A prig.' An uncomfortable half-smile. 'About certain things he is quite unbending.'
'So, you see, I am in something of a dilemma.' Mr Sacheverell.
They walked on a little way, and at last James:
'Handy?'
'I am here.'
'Since we are being candid about my own circumstances, may I dare to be candid about your own?'
'Mine?'
'Indeed. What is your relationship with my brother?'
'Relationship?' A sharper glance, and a tightening of the languid tone.
James looked at Mr Sacheverell, and tilted his head on one side a little, and waited. Presently Mr Sacheverell sniffed in a breath, and with a tight smile:
'We are the closest of friends. You follow?'
Again James waited, and said nothing. Mr Sacheverell:
'You are a sea officer, often away from home for long weeks or even months. Surely you must find, at sea, that there are other officers – perhaps one in particular – with whom you think yourself more in sympathy than with anyone else? Yes?'
'Well, I suppose so ... yes.'
'It is like that with Nicholas and myself. We are companionable. We are in sympathy.' A sharp little glance, and a slightly arched brow. 'You understand?'
James saw that he must go very carefully, now, else provoke disaffection or even outright animosity. In all delicacy and decency and good sense he could probe no further. The friendship between Mr Sacheverell and Nicholas was almost certainly more intimate than Mr Sacheverell was prepared to admit.
'However, it ain't my business.' James, in his head. Aloud he said:
'Forgive me for presuming to press you about your friendship with my brother, Handy. I had to be certain, you apprehend, that you would not wish unfavourably to influence his opinion as to my own circumstances. That you would wish to make him understand, in light of your own friendship, that this is not a fickle, foolish affair. Madame Maigre – Juliette – is very dear to me, and I must find a way through that will be least painful for all concerned. You see?'
Had he put it both tactfully and clearly enough? Without appearing to threaten? Had he?
Mr Sacheverell put a hand on James's hand, looked at him very direct, and nodded.
'In course I do see, my dear James. Yes, certainly.'
Mr Sacheverell nodded again, and withdre
w his hand, and they walked on down to the lower two acres to see the progress of the work there.
TWENTY
Captain Rennie fretted at Bedford Street, wrote a further letter to his wife Sylvia in Norfolk, and waited one day longer – in the hope that James would either send word, or return. No word came. In the evening Mr Mappin came to the hotel. He was not his usual calm, assured, urbane self.
'I have had intelligence from France that a certain party is here in England, which can only mean grave danger for Lieutenant Hayter. Where is he?'
'Is this party – female?'
'Nay, it is a man. Can I assume from your question that Lieutenant Hayter is with a woman?'
'He has gone away with her. A Frenchwoman. When he has a wife.'
'Yes, so he will will not have gone to Dorset, that is certain.' Glancing down into the street from Rennie's window. 'If he and the woman are still in London, they are in very grave danger indeed. We must find them.'
'Aye, that's all very well to say, Mappin. London is very big and wide, and we are two men of a million in that bigness. How in God's name of d'y'propose to find them, hey? Or even to begin the search?'
Mr Mappin, turning from the window: 'We must make the attempt. We know that he will not go to Dorset with her, when his wife is there. Has he any particular friends in London that you know of?'
'Nay, I don't know.' Shaking his head. 'If he has, I've never met them.'
'At Portsmouth, then?'
'Only shipmates.'
'Hm. We must hope he has not gone there. Agents of this man will be watching there, I am in no doubt.'
'Agents? Who is this fellow?'
Mappin moved again to the window and glanced down anxiously into the street. Over his shoulder:
'It was thought he was an absolute loyalist, but now there is contrary intelligence. It appears that he has had a change of heart, and has joined the revolution.'
'Good God. Was he involved in the—'
'Yes, he was.' Over Rennie. 'He was intimately connected with the plot to bring King Louis out of France. He goes under the name of Félix.'
'I think I heard James mention that name. Yes, in fact – in fact it was to do with the woman he has now run away with.'
'You have met her? You know her?'
The Gathering Storm Page 30
