by Vanessa Gray
At that moment Nell happened to glance in his direction. She was startled by the fire she glimpsed in his eyes. The count might appear old, and his father’s execution must have been at least twenty years before, but whatever emotion the recollection engendered was far from dead, or even breathing its last.
She sighed in relief. The count was one of them, with every hatred of Napoleon and the mobs that ensued upon his father’s death, and every reason to keep France in Bourbon hands. He could have no reason to abduct the mysterious parcel, whose only value was to secure a just peace at Vienna.
It was much later when Phrynie and Nell mounted the winding stone steps, hollowed by generations of feet, to their rooms. Nell was aware of an overwhelming desire for her bed. The day’s travel had been long and wearying, and she remembered that from the outset of the journey her sleep had been troubled.
Such a responsibility to carry the parcel across the entire western world — almost! — was worrying, and in one of her rare fits of exasperation, she wished for a few short but telling words with her brother.
Phrynie followed Nell into her bedroom. “Now then, isn’t this a lark?” she crowed. “I had not expected to enjoy this trip, but I must confess I am, even before we arrive in Vienna.”
“I am delighted,” said Nell. “I was a bit apprehensive over stopping here, I admit, particularly when I first met your count. He is like a dried apple, isn’t he?”
“Not dried,” retorted her aunt. “He has sufficient spirit remaining.”
“I did not notice. But I assume you were informed of his spirit when he took you into the library? I had not realized you were so fond of books.”
“Don’t be impertinent. I suppose you will wish to be off at an early hour? In that case, I shall retire at once.”
Mullins was yawning in a chair before the hearth in Lady Sanford’s room, waiting for her mistress to return. Nell yawned too. “Too much fresh air, I fear. I am unaccustomed to it. The crab bisque was delicious, but much too filling.”
“If I ate that much every night,” agreed her aunt, “I should soon sink into a stupor.”
Nell agreed wholeheartedly. She yawned again, and slipped through the connecting dressing room to her own room. She removed her gown and folded it, ready to be packed in her bandbox in the morning. She remembered then that she had meant to move the parcel from the jewel case to the bandbox before they went down to dinner. She would do it at once.
She unclasped her amethyst necklace, curled it up in her hand, and went to place it in her jewel case.
She opened the case. She stood immobile, not even breathing, her desire for sleep vanished.
The parcel was gone!
It could not be gone, for Mullins had been here all the evening. Probably, as had happened before, she had automatically moved it from jewel case to bandbox, and in her haste the deed had slipped from her mind.
She fairly threw her garments out of her bandbox. No parcel. She upended the bag over the bed. There was simply no parcel!
She rushed wildly around the room. She looked in pockets, she shook out her nightdress and robe, she flung the bolsters from the bed and threw back the covers, she fell to her knees and looked under the bed.
She sank into her chair, the contents of the bandbox strewn around her on the floor. Her head in her hands, she heard someone moaning, a pitiful little sound. She knew that someone was herself, but she could not stop.
She was undone!
In a moment, Phrynie stood before her. “My dear child, whatever is the matter? I heard you — Nell darling, what is it?”
“The parcel. Gone.”
“Gone? It can’t be!”
“It is not in the room. Gone. Stolen.” Her voice rose to a wail. “I shall quite simply kill myself.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Then it was valuable.”
Nell looked up at her aunt. “Did I not tell you so?”
“Of course you told me — that the Haveney man called it important, and that invisible duke thought so. But that did not convince me that the parcel contained anything but musty documents. I’ve seen plenty of them, you know, in Mr. Hastings’ office. He’s such a fuddy old thing. But honest, of course, or my husband would not have trusted him with his legal affairs.”
“Aunt, how can you think about some lawyer when I am quite undone.”
Phrynie bit her lip. She recognized now, perhaps even better than Nell, the importance of the parcel. From the moment that Nell told her she had usurped her brother’s business, Phrynie had tried to convince herself that Tom would come along and relieve them of the burden. A burden, moreover, that Phrynie did not consider to be more than an excuse Nell was using to get them to Vienna.
Phrynie knew she was no better than Nell when it came to casting discretion to the winds in favor of a strong desire to be in Vienna. But now, knowing that the Duke of where’s man had in truth entrusted them with vital information that must get to Castlereagh, she knew well that they stood on the brink, as it were, of disaster.
“Now, Nell. Get your wits together. We must think!”
“The parcel is gone,” repeated Nell sturdily. “And it’s my fault. I should never have accepted it in the first instance.”
“Nell, pray do not repeat yourself in that idiotic fashion. The parcel is gone, I concede, but it is no more your fault than mine.” She reflected, and added in an altered tone, “Perhaps not as much.”
Suddenly she was struck by an idea. “What am I thinking of? Where was Mullins? She was here all the time. Nobody could have stolen anything!”
“But they did!”
“Nonsense. If the parcel were not stolen, then it is still here and we shall find it.” She stepped to the connecting door and summoned her maid. Mullins, wearing to the knowledgeable eye of her mistress a guilty face, appeared in the doorway.
“Mullins, where were you all evening?”
“H-here, my lady.”
Phrynie regarded her with justified suspicion. “I have little patience, I assure you. The truth, if you please.”
Mullins was a pitiable creature. “I was here all the time, my lady. Except for when I had my supper.”
“Supper! I made arrangements for your supper to be brought up to you. I confess I was not too well pleased with the count’s staff — the ones that I saw — and I did not wish my jewels to be unprotected.”
“But the housekeeper came up, my lady, and said the food would be much hotter if I cum down to eat in the kitchen, like. And it didn’t seem to be any harm to it. Was they?”
When faced with a real crisis, Phrynie did not lose her head. It was obvious that there had been opportunity for the parcel to be removed from their rooms, and it was more than likely that the housekeeper had been sent to entice Mullins away.
“Let me think. You saw the parcel last, Nell, before dinner? Or last night in the embassy?”
“Tonight,” Nell said dully. “When I took my amethysts out of my jewel case.”
“You’re sure.”
“I’m not sure of anything. But I did see it in my jewel case.”
“Was it locked?”
“No need. I left the key right there beside it.”
Phrynie shook her head. “My dear, aside from the parcel, it is beyond all foolishness to leave one’s jewels in such an exposed position.”
“In your friend’s home?”
“He is not that close a friend. In fact, I remember hearing some gossip about him, but I can’t remember just what it was.”
“Perhaps he is a famous jewel thief?”
“Don’t be sarcastic, Nell. It doesn’t suit you. Besides, your jewels were not taken.”
Mullins spoke up. “Her ladyship’s jewels, I just looked. The blue ones is still there. But the diamonds is gone!”
“Fool!” said Lady Sanford, really exasperated. “I’m wearing them! Now let us Think, Nell — “
“Perhaps Mullins might find some task to perform?”
“Mullin
s, leave us.” When the maid had scurried away, Phrynie closed the dressing-room door behind her. “Quite right. The less she knows the better, since she cannot follow a simple direction. I fear I must replace her when we return to England.” She paused, and added wistfully, “But she does have a marvelous hand with hair.”
“Hair, Aunt?” said Nell, as though returning from a far distance. “But what will I ever do?”
“As I was saying, let us think for a moment. We must be sure the parcel is not here, fallen behind a chair, for example.”
Their search proved, as Nell expected, futile. Phrynie frowned. Reasoning as she went, she said, “If the parcel was there in your jewel case — now, Nell, I believe you — then someone came into this room while Mullins was disgracefully eating her food and took it. It could not have been the count, for I was with him every moment.”
Nell put her finger on the weak link in her aunt’s discourse. “But who knew anything about the parcel in the first instance? It was inside the leather case, and the case itself was closed. I am sure it was not obvious to anyone who happened to look through the door. And look — the bed has not been turned down yet.”
“But a curious maid — “
“Would have taken the jewels, if she were merely looking for valuables.”
“And left the beds as they were, to conceal her presence. Nell, how very clever!”
Nell repeated, “Who knew the parcel was valuable?”
She eyed her aunt steadily, watching her relive the evening, trying to recall any clue that might lead them to the truth. She knew her aunt well. “What have you thought of, Aunt? Your expression gives you away. Come, pray tell me.” She paused, as an unwelcome thought came to her. “Aunt, you didn’t mention the parcel, did you? You did!”
“Nell!” Phrynie’s voice rose in indignation.
“How could you!” Nell wailed. “You told the count!”
“Very well. But I didn’t tell him what it was.”
“When?”
Making a virtue of her full confession, Phrynie explained. “He asked me to step into the library, you remember. And we sat down before the fire — most uncomfortable chairs, I must say. And then he asked me — in the kindest way-whether or not we were in trouble.”
“Trouble?” echoed Nell.
“Traveling alone, you know, the two of us. And you will remember, Nell, I told you at the start that a journey like this was not in the least ordinary. I did think that it was most discreet of him to inquire in such a fashion. Do you know, Nell, he even asked if there were bailiffs on our track! He said if we needed horses, or footmen, or even if there were some way he could make our way smooth ahead, he would bend every effort on our behalf.” She paused to reflect, and added in some disgust, “Had I known at that time what a cake Mullins would make of it, I should have requested a replacement for her.”
“I see now how it was. To reassure the count, who means nothing to us, you told him about the parcel.”
“Well, it did seem so common to let him think that two ladies of quality were traveling without escort to Vienna. Certainly he would have questions about such a havey-cavey arrangement.”
“And,” said Nell ominously, “you simply told him that we were carrying valuable government documents to the congress.”
“Not at all,” said Phrynie loftily, “I simply hinted, you know, in the most delicate fashion, that there was a reason for us to travel in this unobtrusive fashion and I could not reveal it even to him.” Phrynie was not a fool. “I think it must have been after that that Mullins was decoyed downstairs. And I must say that the count, for all his distinguished titles and his ancient lineage, is no gentleman!”
Together they went over every moment of the evening, every nuance of the count’s conversation, every movement that they knew of the servants. “For let us face it, Aunt, the count himself did not mount those ancient steps to this room and go through my possessions.”
“Quite right. He did, I now remember, stop to speak to that factotum of his. I should not like to show any prejudice, but I cannot like a servant with a squint.”
“Do you think the count,” asked Nell, going directly to the point, “gave him instructions then to search our rooms?”
Phrynie considered. “It could well be. I recall that that was after we came out of the library. I noticed particularly because I though —”
Nell recalled that as her aunt and the count had emerged from their “visit” to the library her aunt had appeared oddly flushed, and one jeweled hand had gone up to smooth her hair.
“Did you see the servant again?”
“N-no. At least, I don’t remember. We remained in the salon, you know, until we came upstairs.”
Nell remembered. “I did hear a door close nearby. Before we came upstairs. Did you?”
Phrynie shook her head. “No, I didn’t.”
“Suppose that were so — the door closing, I mean. That could have been the time that the servant put the parcel —”
“In the library!” Phrynie finished. “Could it be?”
‘Well,” said Nell, now practical once more, “it’s our only hope. I shall have to go and see.”
*
“Go and see” meant at first to Nell that she would slip easily down the stairs, cross the foyer and, making sure first that the count had retired to his bedroom, see whether the parcel had been taken to the library.
“Where does the count sleep?” Nell inquired, her mind on the logistics of the problem.
“How would I know a thing like that, Nell?” her aunt said with some resentment, and added, “Upstairs in the wing over the salon and the library. You must make sure that he does not hear you.”
Nell suspected that the count might well be waiting, wide-awake, for a clandestine visit from Lady Sanford.
“Well, I shall be no braver in ten minutes than I am now,” said Nell.
“Nell, shouldn’t I go?”
“No, Aunt. If the count found you downstairs after he thought you were already retired, he might mistake your intentions.”
“To think the day would come when my niece instructed me on morals!”
“Dear Aunt, wish me luck!”
“I hate to have you serve as cat’s paw for me.”
“Don’t worry, Aunt. I’ll be back with the parcel in no time, if it’s there.”
She was back almost as quickly as she had prophesied, but she was empty-handed. Her expression spoke a volume.
“He’s down there in the hall,” she said grimly. “The servant who has the squint. He also has a chair, and is clearly expecting to spend the night in front of the library door.”
“Then it’s true,” cried Phrynie. “The servant would not be on guard unless the count ordered him. Therefore, the count is at the bottom of this. Oh, Nell, how guilty I am!”
“Aunt, you cannot shoulder the blame for the count’s crime!” Suddenly it was Nell who was in charge, and Phrynie who had crumpled under the weight of their disaster.
“I wish,” she said wistfully, “that I could remember what it was I heard about him.”
Nell’s wish, unspoken, was that they had gone on to the Royal Champagne inn. Surely the comfort of this private residence was not superior to a well-managed auberge. And the count then could not have put their entire journey, to say nothing of their reputations, in jeopardy.
Nell sank into a chair. “Well, one thing we can be sure of. The parcel is in the library. The count would not carry it with him to secrete it in some other place and leave the servant to guard the empty library.”
Phrynie sat up. “Nell, there’s only one servant. Could we — do you think we could — overpower him?”
Aghast, Nell stared at her aunt. She was momentarily captivated by a vision of two ladies of quality stealing down a winding medieval staircase and attacking by brute force a large and formidable man.
“Regretfully, Aunt, I must say I do not think so. Besides, the struggle would rouse the castle.”
But the idea of stealing down the stairs brought an alternative to her mind. “Weren’t there a pair of doors farther along the corridor? I wonder where they lead?”
Their rooms were situated in the ancient tower. But there had to be access to the wings on either side, Nell reasoned.
“Mullins can show me.” Nell and the tearfully repentant maid went down the few steps from Nell’s door to the end of the hall.
“The housekeeper, I think she was, had me come down this way,, miss,” said Mullins, pointing to the left-hand door. “The back stairs, like. That door there,” she added, indicating that one opposite, “is supposed to go on to the count’s rooms. He don’t like anybody coming in on him, so they said, and the door is bolted. But this one here isn’t, I don’t think.”
Mullins took hold of the latch. It moved beneath her hand and the door swung open, soundlessly to Nell’s relief. Together they peered down into darkness. “You’re sure the stairs go all the way down?” whispered Nell.
Mullins nodded vigorously. “Steep they be too.”
They returned to Phrynie. “Mullins showed me a door at the end of the hall, with stairs that lead down. She says they give upon the kitchen and I can believe it, for there is a strong smell of cabbage. I’m going to see what I can do.”
Phrynie cried in distress, “Nell, you simply cannot travel around an old castle on your own, like a Minerva Press heroine. I’m going with you.”
With difficulty, Nell dissuaded her aunt from accompanying her on what was, in the least objectionable terms, an illegal sortie to steal back the parcel. The final convincing argument mounted by Nell was surprisingly effective.
“Suppose the count comes here to you, on some pretext,” she suggested. “Of course, I know you don’t expect him, but he might wish to continue — conversation, shall we say?”
Phrynie frowned. “I do not expect him.”
“Of course not. But he may come to see why his tacit invitation has not been accepted.”
“Nonsense!”
“On the contrary, Mullins showed me a door at the end of the hall which leads directly to his quarters. It’s bolted, she says, but not on our side.”
