The ruffians, who had been out at night obviously on some unlawful foray, had just come in.
They threw what they carried down in a heap, then moved off to another part of the building where they could sleep at least for an hour or two.
They were all very unpleasant fierce creatures who Charles thought would have frightened away any woman except Isa.
‘She is most certainly the bravest girl I have ever known,’ he mused.
And he wondered what the Vicar would think if he knew what his daughter was doing.
As it was, although he was exceedingly grateful to her for coming to him and it gave him hope that he would somehow be able to escape, he could not help thinking it was wrong of Lord Lanwood to have allowed her to face such appalling dangers.
He was just thinking of Isa and how wonderful she was, when she suddenly appeared at his side.
She was wearing her glasses and he was aware of the hat that she had pulled low over her hair and forehead and she carried her bag with the bandages and ointment he needed.
Pierre, who was with her and who had escorted her to where Charles was sitting, moved away.
Isa opened her bag and took out a clean bandage and the ointment which she then smoothed onto his wound.
As she bent over him, she whispered in English,
“Get as near as you can to the door. We are going to take you away tonight.”
Charles drew in his breath.
“How can you do that?” he questioned.
“It’s too dangerous to tell you,” she replied. “Just be prepared at any time after nine o’clock for Pierre to come for you.”
Isa spoke so quietly that it was almost impossible for Charles to hear her.
But he was aware, as she was speaking, that one of the men, who had been poking the fire, was coming nearer to them.
Isa then took off his bandage and he deliberately exclaimed in French,
“Ouch! That hurt me! I don’t believe what you are giving me is doing me any good.”
“It will take some time for your wound to heal completely,” Isa replied also in French. “You must be very careful not to move about. In fact I think this place where you are sitting is too draughty and you should move to the other side.”
“I think I am really too weak to do so, but I will try,” Charles said grumpily.
The man who had passed near him then piped up,
“You’d best be careful another time not to get into mischief.”
It was meant to be a joke and Charles forced a smile to his lips.
“If you call that there a wound,” the man went on, “you should’ve seen what they did to two fellers last time I was wiv ’em. So you be careful what you say.”
He then walked away.
“He is quite right,” Isa said in English in a whisper. “You must be careful what you say and don’t let them have the slightest idea that you might leave here this evening – ”
“Of course I will be careful,” Charles promised. “I am not a fool. I do realise that you are risking your life in trying to save me.”
“We intend to rescue you,” Isa said. “But be very very careful they are not suspicious of anything you do or say.”
“I swear I will be careful,” Charles replied rather weakly.
“Put on your shoes if you can,” Isa whispered, “or I will do it for you if you tell me where they are.”
“They are all I possess and they are underneath this pile of rubbish I am sitting on.”
“Isa searched amongst the dirty boxes, the broken weapons and some filthy rags which must once have been clothes.
She found his shoes and thought as they had come from London they were very different from what the others were wearing, which were battered and broken boots that had never been cleaned.
As she took his shoes back to Charles, he said,
“I was wearing them when they captured me and most of my other clothes were taken off me and these are practically all I have left.”
“Well, as they are dirty, I doubt if they will notice them,” Isa replied.
She put them on his feet.
As she did so, she could see that he was wearing heavy stockings which she was certain he had very likely borrowed from one of the ruffians and they had enormous holes in them.
“Now you will be able to walk in these,” she told him. “When I have gone, say you are finding a place that is more comfortable for you under my orders.”
“Is it possible to find anything like that here?” Charles asked sarcastically.
Now he was speaking in French and one of the ruffians who was passing said,
“What are you looking for?”
“A place that’s more comfortable to sit,” Charles answered. “My wound is still hurting me and this nurse is scolding me for it.”
The man looked up at the ceiling in which there were a number of holes.
“Get across to the other side,” he said. “If it rains, it comes through ’ere and there’s always a bad draught.”
“That is what the nurse says,” Charles replied. “I have to do what she tells me.”
“Quite right,” the ruffian answered. “Women be all the same, they makes you obey ’em whether one likes it or not!”
He chuckled at his own joke and moved away.
“That was clever of you,” Isa whispered. “Now take things easy and do remember, when Pierre comes for you, you will have to use everything in your power to leave here before they ask any questions.”
“You are sending a carriage for me?” he asked.
“A carriage will be waiting, but you are not to talk and you must cover your face with a scarf.”
She jumped up from where she had been sitting and looked again in the rubbish where she had found Charles’s shoes.
There was no sign of a scarf.
However, she did find a long length of material that might have been used as one.
She brought it back to him.
“Put this over your shoulders as if I had told you to do so. When you leave, wrap it round your face so that the man driving will not have the slightest idea who you are.”
“Who is he?” Charles enquired.
“It’s best for you not to know,” Isa replied. “I am going now and I will tell the men near the door I will be back tomorrow in case you need me.”
“Be careful,” Charles said quietly. “No woman is safe with them.”
Isa nodded.
Then she walked quickly towards the door as if she was in a hurry.
One of the ruffians sitting nearby put out his hand.
“I likes nurses,” he called out. “Come ’ere and sit down wiv me.”
“I now have an urgent operation to attend to,” Isa replied. “You know as well as I do that doctors will not wait.”
She did not wait for a reply, but slipped out through the door to where Pierre was waiting for her.
They drove back the way they had come.
When she entered the hotel, she took off her glasses and pushed back her hat so that she did not look so strange.
She then ran up the stairs to the suite.
Lord Lanwood was sitting at the writing table.
He looked up as she came in and smiled as he said,
“Good, you are back! I was beginning to wonder if something untoward had delayed you.”
“I was as quick as was possible. Have you heard from the Comte?”
“Not yet,” Lord Lanwood answered. “But the man I sent with the note should be back at any moment.”
Even as he spoke, there was a knock on the door and one of the porters came in.
He handed Lord Lanwood a letter, saying,
“I was told to bring this to Monsieur immediately.”
“Thank you,” Lord Lanwood said, tipping him.
He put the letter down on the table in front of him and waited until the porter had left the room.
Then Isa asked excitedly,
“Is it from the C
omte? Has he now answered your invitation?”
She had read the invitation before she left and Lord Lanwood had written,
“Monsieur le Comte,
We so enjoyed your party last night.
As we have to leave Paris almost immediately, it would be so delightful to see you again and to talk about the paintings and artists we most admire.
Would it be possible for you to come to the hotel tonight?
I have several old friends, who I am sure you would like to meet who are coming to bid us goodbye.
Dinner will be at eight o’clock and it would be so delightful if you could be here at a quarter-to-eight.
There is so much I want to tell you about our joint difficulties and I would hate to lose the opportunity of seeing you again.
Most sincerely
Lionel Lanwood.”
It was a pleasant letter.
But as he wrote it, Lord Lanwood thought that there were at least a hundred reasons why the Comte would not be able to dine with them this evening.
And he would, of course, have to try again, but the sooner they left Paris the better.
Isa was now watching him open the Comte’s letter with an anxious expression in her eyes.
Lord Lanwood looked at it and then gave a cry of delight.
“He accepts!” he exclaimed. “He can come!”
“Oh, thank you, God,” Isa murmured. “Everything we have planned depends on him coming here tonight with his own carriage and so I can hardly believe we are lucky enough for him to have accepted.”
“Well, he has,” Lord Lanwood answered, “and now we can put the master plan into motion. The sooner you pack your clothes the better.”
“Whatever happens I will certainly not leave behind the wonderful dresses you bought me,” Isa said. “In fact rather than lose them, I will wear them all at the same time. Although I may be such a large bundle that you will have to carry me aboard!”
Lord Lanwood laughed as he was meant to do.
He knew that she was only making jokes because she was so relieved, as she had been very tense waiting for a reply to the invitation.
“Now I will go and talk to Pierre,” she said. “I told him to wait in the garden, but I think you should come too and give him your instructions.”
“I have every intention of doing so,” Lord Lanwood replied. “I would trust no one with my plans, not even you, Isa, who invented them!”
“I think you are being rather high and mighty, my Lord, but I am delighted to let you do all the dirty work!”
“I assure you that is exactly what I intend to do. So let’s go to the garden now.”
They found Pierre waiting for them in the trees.
They told him slowly and clearly exactly what part he was to play in the drama they had thought out to rescue Charles.
Pierre merely shrugged his shoulders.
But his eyes were glinting with excitement because of the large amount of money Lord Lanwood had promised him if everything was carried out exactly as he required.
“I am now going to ask for the hotel bill which will include the dinner party I am giving at which the food will not only be delicious but there will be an unusual number of courses,” Lord Lanwood announced.
“That’ll give me time, my Lord, to fetch Monsieur Charles,” Pierre said.
“He will be sitting near the door,” Isa said. “I have made sure that he is wearing shoes and a scarf.”
She turned to Lord Lanwood as she added,
“But I think that you should provide him with an overcoat which will hide the unpleasant condition of the clothes he is wearing.”
“Of course,” Lord Lanwood replied. “But to make sure I don’t freeze to death, I will buy myself another one. Or, if you prefer, I can keep my own and provide a new one for Charles.”
“You always have an excellent alternative to every suggestion. So it’s clearly for the best if I leave everything in your hands, my Lord.”
He smiled at her.
“I am sure you are very competent, but frankly this is my battle and therefore I intend to do it my way.”
”Thank God for that,” she replied and they were both laughing.
They talked with Pierre, working out every small detail of their plan until Lord Lanwood said he was going shopping and would require a carriage.
“You have to arrange for one to be outside the back door of the hotel this evening,” he told Pierre.
“I’ve told one of me friends to come who’s very reliable,” was the reply, “and ’e’ll do exactly as we wants ’im to do.”
As he spoke in his own weird language, Isa had to translate what he had said to Lord Lanwood, who nodded.
“Tell him we will double any fare that he usually asks for the same journey and he will also have a pourboire which will give him a nice surprise if he does exactly what we require.”
“He will! He will!” Pierre responded excitedly.
So excitedly that Isa laughed.
“Papa always says it’s the money that talks!” she said in English.
“Of course he is right and it’s what I have always found myself,” Lord Lanwood replied.
Pierre fetched them a Hackney carriage.
Although it did seem to be rather a smart one, Isa was aware that the man driving it looked rather like Pierre.
She thought it was likely that they belonged to the same family, but it could be embarrassing to ask questions.
They merely told the driver where they wanted to go which was not very far away.
It was a man’s shop and Lord Lanwood bought a very thick tweed coat for Charles and Isa insisted that he needed some warm woollen underclothes besides a scarf and gloves to cover his fingers.
“I noticed how dirty his hands were today when I was attending to him,” she said. “I expect water to wash in is in short supply. Although I doubt if they drink anything but French wine.”
“Which they steal,” Lanwood said bluntly. “We can only hope they have imbibed enough this evening so that they will not be interested in anything Charles is doing.”
“I am praying that he will get away easily,” Isa said in a low voice.
“I am sure that your prayers will be heard,” Lord Lanwood replied.
“I think actually,” Isa said, “that it all depends on everyone carrying out your instructions, also that we never, for a moment, forget the time.”
“We will certainly not do so,” he assured her.
Then, as there seemed no point in talking about it any further, he changed the conversation.
They drove back to the hotel and Isa found that the beautiful dresses she had been promised had arrived.
She was so thrilled when she looked at them that she could hardly believe they were really for her and there had not been some mistake in them being delivered to her room.
There were in fact other items which she had not expected.
But because they were beautifully packed she lifted them into the extra trunk that Lord Lanwood had bought for her without unpacking them.
They only just fitted into the new trunk. Then she had to pack her own clothes which seemed particularly dull after the glorious dresses from Frederick Worth.
‘I wonder if I will have a chance of wearing them all?’ she reflected rather wistfully.
She then thought that once she returned home to the Vicarage she would be kept busy coping with the people in the village and the farmers who were always sending for her father on one pretext or another.
And she would seldom, if ever, see Lord Lanwood again.
Of course she could go to The Castle when he was away from home, as she had always been allowed to do since she was a small child.
His father had appreciated her desire to read and told her that the library was always at her disposal.
She had been thrilled and excited when she had first gone there and, when she grew older, she had been very grateful to his Lordship for giving her what she believed was t
he best present anyone could ever have.
And yet now she wanted, as she had never wanted anything before, to be with the old man’s son.
‘He is so clever, so wonderful and so handsome,’ she told herself over and over again.
Then she remembered that was how the pretty lady last night had found him.
And she would doubtless find him the same tonight when she came to the dinner party he had already invited her to.
The other people who were to be his guests, she had gathered, were French people who lived in Paris who were always entertaining whenever he came to France.
“We will be eight altogether,” Lord Lanwood had told Isa, “and I have particularly chosen older people so that they will leave early and then I think the Comte will leave too.”
“We can only hope so,” Isa had replied at the time.
But now she wondered if he would deliberately try to delay them or perhaps be suspicious as to why they were in such a hurry.
She could only pray that the plan would go forward as Lord Lanwood was organising it and that there would be no mishaps.
When she had finished her packing, she went to the sitting room to find that Lord Lanwood was not alone.
Rose-Marie was with him and looking exceedingly smart as she might have expected.
As Isa admitted to herself, she was very attractive.
She looked into the room and, when she realised that Rose-Marie was there, she stopped.
“I only came in to say, my Lord,” she began, “that I have finished my packing. I am going to sit in the garden. If you want me you know where I am.”
“Yes, of course,” Lord Lanwood answered.
As he did not ask her to stay, Isa moved back to the door.
She opened it and had a quick glance at Rose-Marie sitting far nearer to Lord Lanwood on the sofa than was conventional.
She knew that they had no wish for her to remain with them.
She went to her bedroom and threw herself down on the bed, feeling as though there was an ache in her heart that she had never known before.
Then she told herself she had to be practical.
‘After tomorrow is over perhaps I will only see him occasionally in the distance when we are out hunting,’ she told herself. ‘Or perhaps when there is a fête or an event of importance taking place at The Castle.’
She knew that she could not lower herself to ask him if she could go on reading in the library as she had always done.
A Prisioner in Paris Page 10
