by Sandra Heath
The officer stared toward her and then looked at Captain Merryvale. ‘Naryshky did this?’ he asked.
The captain nodded.
‘Now he will pay more dearly than ever, for she is now greatly in favor with both Czar Alexander and Countess Irina. Please tell Lord Buckingham that I will place a boat at his disposal, and the moment he feels Miss Clearwell is sufficiently recovered to go ashore, you will all be conveyed back to English Quay.’ The officer hesitated. ‘Russia is very grateful to you all, Captain, and your efforts will not go unrewarded, you may be sure of that.’
Captain Merryvale withdrew from the cabin with the officer, and Francis was left alone with Alison. He drew her hand to his lips. ‘Alison?’
Slowly she turned her head, meeting his eyes.
‘It’s over now,’ he said gently. ‘Naryshky is under arrest—’
‘I took the documents, Francis,’ she interrupted, trying to sit up. ‘I took them when you were asleep and I went to her. I know I took a great risk.’
‘You did well, Alison, for the countess must have given the wallet to the czar.’
‘But if it had gone wrong …’
‘It didn’t, did it?’ He smiled. ‘I think your judgment was better than mine in this instance, Alison, for by doing what you did, you accomplished everything at a stroke.’
‘How did you know I was here?’
‘I was looking at the Irina through your uncle’s telescope, and I saw you looking out of the window.’ His gaze moved over her bruised, tearstained face. ‘My poor darling, you’ve suffered so very much, haven’t you?’ he said softly.
The words of endearment brought her no comfort, for she could remember how he had whispered Pamela’s name in his sleep. What he felt for her now was pity, no more and no less.
‘Do you feel able to go back to the house?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘Yes, I think so.’
‘Let me help you up.’ He rose to his feet and assisted her to put on his coat, to hide the savage tears in her gown, but as she stood, the room began to swim and everything faded into darkness. Her legs wouldn’t support her and she would have fallen if he hadn’t caught her. Without a second thought he lifted her into his arms and carried her from the room.
The deck was a scene of confusion. Khan had been eventually caught, lured by a cold roast chicken from the galley, and the crew was still confined in the hold, having been unable to break open the door when they had heard the czar’s men arrive. The black man still hadn’t come around from the blow Francis had given him; he lay on the deck where he had been dragged. His hands and feet were bound, and he would soon be carried down to one of the many boats that now lay alongside the Irina. Of the dwarf there was no sign at all, for he alone appeared to have escaped.
Assisted by Captain Merryvale, Francis carried Alison down to the boat that had been put at their disposal, and within a few minutes they were being rowed ashore through mist that was beginning to thin fast as the morning sun rose higher in the sky.
As the boat reached the jetty, Francis immediately stepped out with Alison, who hadn’t come around. Followed by Captain Merryvale, he went swiftly up the steps to the street and then across to the house, where Mr Clearwell, Natalia, Mackay, and several other servants were waiting anxiously beneath the portico.
Mackay was immediately dispatched to bring the doctor, and Francis carried Alison to the couch in the entrance hall, laying her gently down by the fire. Natalia was distraught, sending a footman to bring Katya immediately and then ordering another to see that the fire in Alison’s bedroom was properly stoked.
Francis was hardly aware of what was happening around him; his attention was fully upon Alison’s ashen face. He pushed her hair away from her forehead, his fingers lingering on the bruise left by the carriage door. Then he took her limp hand, raising it softly to his lips and kissing the palm.
An hour later, Alison came around, to find herself in her bed. Sunlight was streaming in through the windows and Katya was hovering anxiously by the bedside.
‘Miss Clearwell? Oh, Miss Clearwell, you’re awake again.’ Without waiting for her reply, the maid hurried from the room.
Alison stared up at the canopy of the bed. She had been dreaming, and the dream still clung to her. She had been about to give her marriage vows and Francis’s ring was just going to be slipped on her finger. She wore a gown of white satin and silver tissue, and there was a wreath of roses in her hair. But then Francis tilted her face toward his, his eyes cool and distant. He told her he would never love her, that she would always be second best to his love for Pamela, but that he would try not to make her unhappy. His voice sounded hollow, and there wasn’t any warmth or even affection in his eyes. She turned to run from him, the vows unsaid. Captain Merryvale had been waiting to take her away from St Petersburg. Then she had awakened.
Now she lay there thinking about the dream. It was telling her that everything was over now, and she could indeed go back to England with Captain Merryvale if she wished. There would be gossip – Mrs Fairfax-Gunn would see to that – but maybe it would be possible to explain the truth to Pamela. Pamela was the one Francis should marry, and if she, Alison, could put things right, maybe there would still be a marriage between the Duke of Marchington’s daughter and Lord Buckingham.
The bedroom door opened suddenly and Natalia hurried in, followed by Alison’s uncle. Natalia bent quickly to kiss Alison’s pale cheek. ‘Oh, my dear, my dear, I feel so very ashamed that I was so worried about my father that I couldn’t see how worried you were too. To think that you and Lord Buckingham were on such secret business. But now it’s all going to be all right; the prince has been arrested and his lordship is going to ask the czar to give the estate at Novgorod to my father.’ Natalia blinked back tears and smiled a little ruefully. ‘Forgive me again, but I cannot believe that all these weeks of worry are over at all, and it’s all thanks to you.’
‘To me, Aunt Natalia?’
‘Yes, my dear, because you were so very clever in taking those papers to Countess Irina. Now the French plot is foiled, the prince’s vile treachery is revealed, and everything is going to be all right.’
‘Yes,’ murmured Alison, ‘everything’s going to be all right.’
‘The doctor examined you and said that although you struck your head very badly, you will soon be all well again. He has left some laudanum for you to take if you have a bad headache, but he doesn’t think you will need it. As to your terrible experience at the prince’s hands, he says the bruises and scratches will soon heal and you will not suffer any lasting distress.’ Natalia squeezed her hand. ‘Soon you will marry Lord Buckingham, my dear, and you will know the happiness you truly deserve after all this. I’m so sorry that I ever doubted that you loved him.’
Alison slowly drew her hand away, glancing at her uncle. ‘Where is Francis now, Uncle Thomas?’
‘At the embassy, but he’ll be returning shortly to prepare to go to the Winter Palace. I know that you are invited as well, my dear, but perhaps you don’t feel up to it…?’
‘Uncle Thomas, I don’t intend to go to the Winter Palace with him, but I do intend to leave this house. I mean to return to England this afternoon with Captain Merryvale on the Duchess of Clarence.’
Her uncle stared at her, completely taken aback, and Natalia sat down on the bed with shock. It was Natalia who spoke first. ‘Return to England today? Oh, my dear, we won’t hear of it, for you simply aren’t well enough.’
‘Aunt Natalia, I mean to leave. My mind is made up.’
‘But what of Lord Buckingham and your marriage?’
‘There’s isn’t going to be a marriage, Aunt Natalia, for although I love him, he most certainly does not love me. He’s marrying me because he feels obliged to, not because he wants me as his wife. He loves Lady Pamela Linsey, and I mean to do all I can to see that he still marries her.’
Startled, Natalia exchanged a glance with her husband and then looked at Alison again. ‘You�
�re wrong, you know, for Lord Buckingham does love you.’
Alison shook her head. ‘I wish it were so, Aunt Natalia, but it isn’t.’
Her uncle took her hand. ‘Are you quite set on this, my dear?’ he asked gently.
‘Yes, Uncle, I am.’
‘You do understand the grave consequences such actions will have upon your reputation, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you are prepared to face that?’
Tears filled her eyes. ‘I have to face it, Uncle, because I love Francis too much to marry him. I know how dearly he wishes to make Pamela his wife, and that means that it would be very wrong indeed for me to accept his offer.’
Natalia rose concernedly. ‘We cannot permit her to leave like this, Thomas, for we would be gravely failing in our duty.’
Mr Clearwell put an understanding hand on his wife’s arm, but shook his head. ‘It will do no good to try to change her mind, my dear. I fear we have no sensible option but to let her go and to at least see that Katya accompanies her so that she doesn’t travel alone. Please go and tell Katya, so that she has time to prepare.’
With a sigh Natalia gave in, but as she went to the door, she paused again. ‘Alison, I suppose you only mean to take some hand luggage with you? There is no time to pack everything else.’
‘Most of my things can follow later on, Aunt Natalia.’
‘Very well.’
‘Aunt Natalia?’
‘My dear?’
‘I’m truly sorry to cause you any further anxiety.’
Natalia smiled and then went out.
Alison’s uncle bent to kiss her pale forehead. ‘I cannot approve of what you intend to do, my dear, but I do understand your motives, which are very noble, if misguided. I cannot believe that once he was married to you, Lord Buckingham’s love for Lady Pamela would persist for long, if indeed he still loves her at all, but if your conscience weighs so very heavily upon you …’
‘It does, Uncle Thomas, for Pamela is my best friend.’
He nodded. ‘Then the matter is closed. Katya will go with you and Captain Merryvale will be charged with your safe-keeping. When you reach England you are to stay with William, is that clear? By complete coincidence a letter arrived from him this morning, and in it he tells me that his mother’s aunt is staying with him for the rest of the summer, which means that she can act as your chaperone until your father returns. His great-aunt usually resides in Scotland, but a fire at her home means that she has unexpectedly foisted herself upon her favorite great-nephew. I’ve only met the lady concerned several times, many years ago, and she seemed agreeable enough, although, according to William, she has become a veritable dragon in her old age.’
Alison smiled. ‘I will do as you wish, Uncle Thomas.’
‘My dear, I don’t think Lord Buckingham will receive your news at all well, for he is determined to do the right thing by you, whether or not he still loves Lady Pamela.’
She met his eyes. ‘I don’t mean to tell him, Uncle. I mean to leave as soon as he has gone to the Winter Palace.’
‘Oh, Alison, my dear—’
‘It’s the best way, Uncle Thomas. When he returns from the embassy in a little while, I would like you and Aunt Natalia to tell him that I’m all right but that I’m sleeping. Tell him that I’m really not up to accompanying him to the Winter Palace and that he must go alone. Then, when he’s left, I will go to the Duchess of Clarence, which will have sailed by the time he returns. I know I’m asking you to be party to something of which you do not approve, but I wouldn’t dream of making such a request unless I felt it was the best way.’
Her uncle sighed and nodded. ‘You really have given this some thought, haven’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘If you became Lady Buckingham, you’d be very happy, I know you would, and so would his lordship.’
‘No, Uncle.’
‘What if your aunt is right and he does love you?’
‘It isn’t my name he whispers in his dreams,’ Alison said quietly, turning her head away.
Her uncle said nothing more, but withdrew sadly from the room.
Alison closed her eyes, which stung with all the tears she had wept. She didn’t weep now, though, for she had gone past crying. The complicated sequence of events that had commenced in Stockholm had come to an almost perfect ending; for the ending to have been absolutely perfect would require Francis and her to live happily ever after, but that could never be, not when his heart was given to Pamela.
Now she, Alison, had to at least try to make the ending perfect for one of them, and that meant telling Pamela the complete truth. Once the tale of all that had happened in Stockholm and here in St Petersburg reached London, it might never be possible to explain, and so she had to reach Pamela first. There was nothing more she could do.
20
As Alison lay there contemplating what her conscience dictated she must do, Francis was leaving the British embassy. Behind him there was jubilation at the satisfactory outcome of events, especially as not only had the czar been successfully warned of the danger around him, but also the identity of the French agent in the embassy had at last been discovered. The aide concerned, a gentleman who had been somewhat reticent about his mother’s French origins, had immediately been bound hand and foot and conveyed across St Petersburg to the French embassy, on the steps of which he had been left like a rather ignominious parcel. Mr Gainsborough, a wickedly talented cartoonist when the spirit moved him, had drawn an extremely witty and derogatory lampoon of Bonaparte being kicked by John Bull, and this had been pinned to the unfortunate agent’s coat. The fury with which both agent and cartoon would be received by the French ambassador could well be imagined and was the source of much sly British glee.
As Francis entered the Clearwell residence, however, his thoughts were not of the success of his mission or the imminent audience with the grateful czar, but of Alison, who had still been under examination by the doctor when he had felt obliged to report to the embassy.
He handed his hat and gloves to Mackay. ‘How is she?’ he asked without ceremony.
‘Miss Clearwell is sleeping, my lord. The doctor assures us that she will soon be fully recovered and that she hasn’t come to any lasting harm.’
‘He is confident of that?’
‘Most certainly, my lord.’
‘Thank you, Mackay.’
‘My lord.’ The butler bowed and withdrew as Francis hurried up to the staircase to the grand salon, where he found Mr Clearwell studying the river through the telescope.
The older man straightened and turned as he entered. ‘Ah, you’ve returned to us, my lord.’
‘Mackay tells me that Alison will soon be well again.’
‘Assuredly so, my boy, for apart from the shock and stress of her ordeal, she has suffered no major injury. The bruises will soon be gone, and once she has rested …’ Mr Clearwell’s voice died away, for rest was the one thing Alison intended to deny herself; what rest could there be on an imminent voyage back to England?
Francis went to stand beside him, gazing out at the sunlit Neva. ‘I only hope that she will be able to forget what she suffered at Naryshky’s foul hands.’
‘So do I, my boy, so do I,’ agreed Mr Clearwell with feeling. ‘If you hadn’t reached her when you did, I can hardly bear to think what would have happened to her.’
Francis’ blue eyes were cold and hard. ‘I would have torn his monstrous heart out for what he did, but he was saved by the very czar he had been endeavoring to bring down.’
‘Saved? My dear sir, Naryshky’s life is forfeit anyway, and perhaps it is better that the czar takes it than you.’
‘There would have been a certain grim satisfaction in having extinguished him personally, Mr Clearwell, for if you had seen her lying there in that cabin …’ Francis swallowed, lowering his eyes for a moment. ‘I would give away my fortune for five minutes alone with him, and I wish to God I had squeezed the trigger whe
n I had my pistol trained upon him.’
Mr Clearwell put a quick hand on his arm. ‘Your concern and anger do you credit, my lord.’
‘Concern and anger?’ Francis gave a dry laugh. ‘Mr Clearwell, you seem surprised that I should express such emotions, and yet you know that I am about to marry her. Should a bridegroom not feel rage against the man who tried to violate his bride?’
Mr Clearwell was silent for a moment. He didn’t know what to say, for he knew that the marriage was no longer going to take place. Turning, he bent to look out of the telescope again. ‘I, er, see they’ve removed the Irina,’ he murmured a little lamely.
Francis couldn’t help but be conscious of the rather clumsy change of subject. ‘Is something wrong, sir? Is there something I should know?’
‘Everything is quite in order, my boy. Er, when will you be leaving for the Winter Palace?’
‘I’m just about to change into my court togs.’
‘You do realize that Alison will not be able to accompany you?’
Francis smiled a little. ‘I didn’t expect that she would, sir.’
‘Er, no, of course not …’ Mr Clearwell gave a slightly awkward laugh as he continued to apparently find the view through the telescope of the utmost fascination.
Francis looked curiously at him. ‘Mr Clearwell, are you quite sure that everything’s all right?’
‘Mm? Oh, yes, quite all right,’ murmured the older man. ‘Shouldn’t you be putting on your finery?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Francis bowed a little and then left him. At the door of the grand salon he paused, looking back at the figure by the telescope. Something was wrong. But what? With a long breath he went on out, closing the door quietly behind him.
Mr Clearwell straightened once more. His face was sad. If only he felt sure that he was right to support Alison now. Maybe Lord Buckingham did love Lady Pamela Linsey, but like Alison herself, he too had a conscience to salve, and that conscience bade him marry Alison in order to shield her from cruel gossip. Damn it, the fellow wanted the marriage – indeed, he seemed determined on it – and yet Alison’s honor was going to deny him his wish.
