by Linda Sole
‘He is asking for you. You had best go to him.’
‘Of course I shall help him as much as I can. Had he not been here you might have been too late.’
‘I might indeed.’ Moraven’s mouth drew into a thin line. ‘He is in love with you, Constance. Be careful what you promise.’
Her eyes widened in surprise. She watched him walk away from her, holding back the desperate urge to weep and call him back. What had she done that he should be so angry with her?
Shaking her head, she walked slowly up the stairs, her heart sinking. Lord South had risked his life for hers and he was a very sick man. He would be weeks recovering, if indeed he survived the fever that was bound to result from his ordeal at the surgeon’s hands.
What had Moraven meant when he told her to be careful what she promised?
She knocked at the door and was asked to enter. Pushing the door open, she took a few steps inside. A man in a pale grey coat and breeches was standing by the bed, bending over his patient. He looked up as Constance entered his expression grave.
‘Mademoiselle Hatherstone I presume? I am Doctor Frances. You speak English?’
‘I am English, sir, but I speak French if you prefer.’
‘I too am English, though like you I am proficient in French. Our patient will need nursing for a long time, Miss Hatherstone. Are you unable to undertake this or should I have him removed to a clinic elsewhere?’
‘Constance…is that you?’ Jonathan’s voice was little more than a whisper. ‘Please do not leave me. Stay with me, I beg you…’
Her heart caught as she heard the pleading note in his voice. He was so young and despite his bravery and the dangerous game he’d played, a little vulnerable.
‘I am here,’ she said, going to his side. She reached for his hand and held it. His fingers gripped hers but not as strongly as she would have wished. ‘I shall not leave you while you need me.’
‘Do you promise?’ Jonathan’s eyes met hers, pleading with her to stay and to care for him. He was alone in a strange country and she could not abandon him to strangers. ‘I will make things right for you,’ he promised. ‘Stay with me until the end…’
‘You will get better. I shall stay until you are well again.’
Constance saw the look in the physician’s eyes and her heart contracted with pain. It was obvious that he did not believe his patient would recover.
‘If you are to nurse him I shall send medicines,’ Doctor Frances said as she sat on the bed and stroked Jonathan’s hair back from his forehead. ‘I have other patients to see but I shall return later and see how he goes on. His wound will need changing at least once a day, but we shall discuss this later. What he needs now is sleep, but Lord South would not take the sleeping draught until you had spoken to him.’
‘You promise you will be here when I wake?’
Constance bent to touch her lips to his damp forehead. ‘You are my friend and I shall care for you while you need me – but tell me, is there no one I could send for?’
‘I quarrelled with my father,’ Jonathan said in a feverish tone. ‘He disowned me. I do not want anyone here but you…’
‘Hush,’ she soothed. ‘Sleep now, my lord. You will soon feel better.’
His eyes closed and she could see that he was drifting away into sleep. As his clutching fingers released hers, she rose and walked away. The doctor had been cleansing his hands in the washbasin. He turned to look at her.
‘You must be prepared for the worst at any time. He may not survive the night; he could live for a few days or some weeks, but there was severe damage to his organs and I think he will gradually deteriorate and eventually die in some pain. It will not be an easy task to nurse him, Miss Hatherstone. May I ask what he is to you?’
‘He is a friend. I hardly know him.’
‘Are you prepared to take on his nursing? It is a lot to ask of someone who is not committed to the patient.’
‘He helped to save my life, sir. If he dies it will because he would not let those evil men take me to a life of shame and degradation. Do you not think I owe him this much?’
‘Only you can answer that, Miss Hatherstone. I do not know what it may cost you. My fees are taken care of by Lord Moraven but if you have work to go to…?’
‘I have no work. There is someone who means something to me, but I must ask him to be patient. I believe he may understand.’
Would Moraven understand? Or would he think she was reneging on their bargain? She could only hope that he would see that it was impossible to desert Jonathan when he was very ill and possibly dying.
‘There he is…Devallier,’ Moraven said as the man crossed the street and entered a house of ill repute. ‘Lord South knew what he was about. I think I misjudged him.’
‘Do we go in after him or wait until later and grab him when he leaves?’
‘I want two of you at the back in case he tries to escape that way. Remember they want him alive if possible, but if not…he mustn’t escape us this time.’
‘Aye, aye, captain,’ Dodds said. ‘What about that lot?’ He cocked his head towards the shadowy figures waiting further down the street. ‘Where do they come in to it?’
‘If we capture Renard alive we hand him over to them.’
‘Poor devil. I shouldn’t want to be in his shoes this night.’
Moraven’s expression was grim. ‘Nor I but I have my orders. It’s Renard’s choice. If he comes quietly he goes to them, if not shoot to kill.’
Dodds looked into his eyes, satisfied with what he saw there. He knew Captain Moraven of old and needed no second telling. They were of one mind in this business it seemed.
Two of Moraven’s men went down the little alley to the side of the brothel. The others waited for some minutes before approaching the house. Renard had knocked three times and been admitted. Moraven did the same. The door was opened and a man peered round but when he saw who stood there he tried to shut it quickly. Moraven charged, his weight against it and the others pressed behind him. As the doorman fell back shouting a warning all hell broke loose inside. Screaming half-clad women and young girls fled up the stairs and men were dashing about in confusion.
Moraven fired at a crystal chandelier, bringing it crashing down with all its glass hangings and candles. The pandemonium increased but he levelled his pistols at the ruffians who had come rushing from the back.
‘We’re here for Renard,’ he said. ‘Renard, Smith, Devallier, call him what you will. He was seen to enter and his life is forfeit. Send him out and the rest of you may go about your business. Defy us and we’ll kill anyone that resists.’
The men murmured uneasily amongst themselves, looking from one to the other. They were afraid of the hard-eyed men who had burst in, all of whom were fully armed with loaded pistols, one in each hand, but they were even more afraid of Renard.
‘He went out the back way,’ one of them said at last. He squirmed as he said it, squinting at them with a lazy eye, his other socket covered by a black patch. ‘He’ll be long gone by now.’
‘If he went that way my men will have him.’ He looked at Dodds. ‘Search the house – pull it apart if you have to but find him.’
‘He’s up here, sir.’ A young girl of barely more than fifteen, came to the head of the stairs; she was wearing a torn and filthy wrapping gown, her hair tangled and unwashed. ‘He came to my room. He was beating me as you came in because I wouldn’t do what he wanted and then he tried to get out of the window but it has been nailed up to keep us in.’
‘Hoist with his own petard.’ Moraven’s lips thinned as he walked up the stairs. Below in the hall it had fallen silent. Men who had come to the house for the girls and gambling slunk away into back rooms. Only Renard’s bullies stood watching as Moraven reached the landing. The girl pointed towards a door but just as he approached it, it was flung open and a man came out wearing his breeches and shirt, his feet bare. In his hand he had a rapier.
‘Put down your weapon,
Renard. The game is over and you’ve lost.’
‘Not yet. Shoot him!’ he yelled to the watchers below but not one of them moved a muscle. The silence was tense and expectant as Moraven walked towards him. ‘You have the advantage it seems,’ Renard said. ‘Will you murder me here or when you take me away?’
‘I have no intention of murdering you. Come quietly and I’ll hand you over to those who will judge you for your crimes.’
‘I nearly had her,’ Renard sneered. He had once been a handsome man but his features had begun to run to fat and there were red veins across his nose and cheeks. He’d lived a live of depravity and it showed. ‘She would have screamed until she died. Can you imagine what I should have done with her had I got the whore here where she belonged?’
Moraven’s fists balled at his sides. ‘You deserve that I should shoot you like the dog you are,’ he said. ‘But I shall give you a chance. Will you have pistols or swords?’
‘He doesn’t deserve a chance,’ someone said behind them. ‘Shoot the rotten devil now.’
It was the girl that had spoken. Moraven ignored her. His instincts were to follow her advice but his honour made him offer his enemy a chance.
‘Pistols…’ Renard said. ‘Downstairs in the parlour. Give me a moment to put on my coat and boots. You know I can’t get out of the window.’
Moraven hesitated. ‘I have men waiting at the back. ‘Try to escape over the roof and they will not hesitate to shoot.’
‘Wait while I fetch my coat…’
Moraven inclined his head. Renard went back into the bedroom from whence he’d come. Moraven turned his back and began to walk down the stairs. He heard something behind him and then the girl screamed. Turning, he saw that Renard had a pistol and it was pointed at him. Before he could train his own pistol a shot rang out. Renard’s eyes widened in disbelief. He staggered towards the banister and then toppled forward, falling over it to the hall below.
Moraven looked at Dodds and saw the smoking pistol in his hand. ‘He was going to shoot you in the back,’ he said. ‘I couldn’t take the risk, captain.’
‘You did what you had to do – we both did.’
‘Aye, aye, captain.’
Dodds smiled. It was cleaner this way, more merciful than the alternative.
‘Anyone who has no business here is free to leave,’ Moraven announced. ‘Let them go, men.’
There was a scramble for the door as a bevy of dishevelled gentlemen rushed towards it, some of them half dressed and clutching their coats and wigs as they scuttled. Five of Renard’s rogues stood where they were, eyeing the marquis warily. A crowd of perhaps fifteen girls, two of them no more than fifteen years, the others of varying ages had come out to the landing. They stood watching, waiting to hear their fate.
‘Is any one of you capable of running a decent house?’
‘Yes, sir, I am.’ One of the older girls came forward. ‘Two of the men here are like he was…’ She stood looking down at Renard’s body where it lay below in the hall. ‘I don’t want those two – but the other three can help to keep the clients in order, if they will take their orders from me.’
‘Very well,’ Moraven said. ‘What is your name, girl?’
‘Marie.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty. I’ve been here three years and I’ve no home or family.’
‘The younger girls should go to the nuns but it’s their choice,’ Moraven said. ‘If any of you have family tell us now and we’ll help you.’ The girls looked at one another but none moved. ‘Do you want to stay here if Marie looks after you and shares the money with you?’
‘Yes, sir…’ the girl who had revealed Renard’s hiding place stepped forward. ‘It’s too late for most of us – Jenna and Suzette might start again with the nuns, but the rest of us are better off here than the streets. If Marie will protect us.’
‘Take the two rogues she doesn’t want and give them the chance to run or hand them over to the hounds,’ Moraven said to his own men. He looked at the three men Marie had said could stay, who were watching nervously. ‘Marie is in charge here. If she has reason to complain of your behaviour I’ll kill you. I’ll be leaving men here to keep an eye on you so be warned.’
‘Renard was a devil.’ One of the men spat on his body. ‘We all hated him – but the girls need someone to look out for them or the punters will cheat them. I’ll keep these other two in line; you have my word on it.’
‘Your name?’
‘Jacques.’
‘Very well, Jacques. You’ll take your orders and your pay from Marie – but step out of line and you’ll be sorry.’
‘I’ll bide by what she says. Marie knows I like her and I’m not cruel by nature – nor is Alain or Fodo.’
‘We’ll take Devallier with us.’ Moraven nodded at his men and one of them picked Renard’s body up and hoisted it over his shoulder. ‘We’re leaving now. Remember what I told you.’
Marie stepped forward, tipping her head to one side. ‘How can we thank you and your men? If you wish to return another time it will cost you nothing, my lord.’
Moraven smiled at her. ‘I thank you, but we shall not take advantage. Should any of my men wish to return they will pay for your time, as others do. You owe us nothing, Marie. You owe no one anything and if you continue to stay here and run your business it is the choice of all of you. Every girl here is free to stay or go as she chooses.’
‘Sadie told you; it is too late for most of us – but at least we shan’t be beaten or starved in future and all the girls will receive their share.’
‘Then I wish you good fortune,’ Moraven said and followed the last of his men from the house.
‘The hounds took Renard’s body and those two,’ Dodds told him. ‘One of them went easily the other fought. He promised me that he had friends that would avenge what we did this night.’
‘I dare say he has,’ Moraven shrugged carelessly. ‘Cut off one head and another grows – but it will take a while. I doubt they’ll follow us to England to look for us. No, whoever decides to take over Renard’s empire will lie low for a while. They won’t be sure the rumours are true for a start and then they’ll squabble amongst themselves. I doubt that one man will have as much power again – at least for some years.’
‘He deserved to die, captain.’
‘Yes, he did,’ Moraven said. ‘Don’t let it trouble your conscience, Dodds. I think he is better off than the other two – though by the sound of it they deserve their fate. Renard was the one they wanted – those two will probably just rot in prison.’
Dodds crossed himself. ‘Is that the end, captain? Have we finished it?’
‘We’ve avenged our friends, set those girls free to go their own way and foiled several plots to murder both the Regent and the French King. I think that is as good a way as any to finish it – don’t you?’
‘What will you do now?’
Moraven frowned. ‘I am not certain. I may have to return to England to report to certain people, but after that…’ He shook his head. ‘It may depend on someone else…’
‘How is he?’ Moraven asked as he saw Constance come down the stairs carrying a basin of water. ‘Has he been bleeding again?’
‘A little when the physician changed his dressing. It disturbed his wound but at least it looks clean.’
‘Does he have a fever?’
‘As yet he seems peaceful,’ Constance said. She looked at him anxiously. ‘You have been out all night. I was worried. I thought…’
‘Renard is dead. He offered a duel then tried to shoot me in the back. One of my men was too quick for him.’
‘Thank God for that,’ Constance said. She went into the kitchen and poured the dirty water down the large butler’s sink. Then she turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face. ‘Is it truly over at last? Are the nuns safe?’
‘Yes, and the children they’ve rescued, as long as they choose to remain with them – but some of them may st
ray. For many there is only a life on the streets or houses such as those Renard owned.’
‘Yes, I suppose so…’ Constance shivered. ‘Not all men are as he was. I know there are some who try to do good; they set up orphanages to take in poor boys and girls.’
‘And set them to work as they grow older – but we cannot cure the ills of society, Constance, no matter how we try. There are good people who help, just as there are bad who use and harm. All we can do is try to help a few.'
‘Yes, I know.’ She saw the tiredness in his face. ‘You should rest. Would you like me to prepare breakfast now – or when you have rested and changed?’
‘I ate something a while ago with my men. If you do not mind I shall sleep for a while. We must talk, Constance, but not just now.’
‘Go to your room and sleep. We will have a later brunch today when you rise.’
‘What of you?’ He took her by the shoulders, gazing deep into her eyes. ‘You look tired. Did you sleep at all last night?’
‘Heloise watched him for a while. Yes, I slept for a few hours. He was very tired but when the doctor changed his dressing he was feverish. I have a mixture to give him when he wakes, but I think he is very ill. I am not sure he will live long.’
‘We’ll talk soon. I am exhausted. Feed yourself and Heloise. When I come down I can make something for myself.’
‘I will prepare some soup for later. Heloise can go to the market. We do not need anyone to protect us now. Besides, Pierre sent word that he is returning to my service. The nuns have recruited their own servants and no longer need him.’
‘I shall be relieved to know that he is here taking care of you.’
Constance turned to watch as he left the room. Her heart caught and she had a sinking feeling inside. Moraven was very restrained. She knew that something was on his mind and feared that he was trying to find a way to tell her that he was leaving her.
Alone in his room, Moraven pulled off his boots and stretched out on the bed fully clothed. A great wave of weariness swept over him, leaving him feeling empty and numb. After so many years it felt strange to know that his enemy was dead at last. Once it might have elated him because the traitor was caught and punished, but now he just felt empty. He’d wanted to take Constance in his arms and tell her that she belonged to him, but something had held him back. He might have finished his work, but had it finished with him? Would it return to haunt him? Could he sleep without fear of nightmares – and could he ever give all of himself to a woman?
