She thought for a moment then raised her head at the sound of the engine’s whistle. ‘We are nearly there. I shall be so glad to see Kit and I hope he will be pleased with my progress in Bath.’
Charlotte was looking out of the other window now, but she withdrew her head, scrubbing smuts off her face with a grimy handkerchief, glad of an excuse to wipe away her tears for the little lost boy king who, for a brief moment, had become her friend.
‘The old gentleman was not your only admirer was he, dear Char?’ Elaine gave her a quizzical smile. ‘You have been so exceedingly tactful but I could not mistake that crestfallen look on the younger count’s face. For my part I am glad not to lose you to France, though he would have loved you well, I’m sure of that.’
Charlotte nodded. ‘When I first came to England in the spring,’ she said thoughtfully, measuring her words. ‘I would have leapt at such a proposal. Oh, not for love, Armel knew I did not love him, but because I was so desperate for a place of my own and a family to love me. Now I have that place and that family and I know I am loved, but it wasn’t just that. When he asked me I had already begun to have some inkling of the truth, outrageous as it seemed. It was the little portraits with their likenesses, so surprising and yet so convincing. How could I have saddled him, the rightful heir to the throne of France, even if he does not know it, with a bastard wife born to a convicted and transported felon, not to mention my godmother and my stepfather and their – eccentricities?’ She heaved a sigh. ‘I do regret the little girl Marianne,’ she admitted. ‘I love her with all my heart and I confess that, for a moment – a very short moment – I could have been tempted at the thought of becoming her mother.’
Her serious mood fell away and she stood up to crane her head out of the window again. ‘I think I can see the station in the distance,’ she said, scrubbing at her face again and straightening her bonnet, then looking back over her shoulder for a final word.
‘Oh well …’ Elaine rejoiced to hear the laugh once more in Charlotte’s voice. ‘I may have almost witnessed a murder, had an attempt upon my own life and discovered a grandmother of my very own, but what I shall recall most vividly from this adventure of ours, Elaine, is that I might have been the rightful Queen of France!’
By the same author
Murder Most Welcome
Copyright
© Nicola Slade 2009
First published in Great Britain 2009
This edition 2013
ISBN 978 0 7198 1094 7 (epub)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1095 4 (mobi)
ISBN 978 0 7198 1096 1 (pdf)
ISBN 978 0 7090 8955 1 (print)
Robert Hale Limited
Clerkenwell House
Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.halebooks.com
The right of Nicola Slade to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
Death Is the Cure Page 24
