'There's no doubt about that, Daniel. Blenheim lasted for seven or eight hours and we lost 12,000 men. The battle of Ramillies was over in two hours and our losses were considerably smaller.' He waved the paper in his hand. 'According to this, we also acquired 50 cannon and 80 standards and colours. Huge numbers of abandoned weapons have also been recovered.'
"The victory will reverberate throughout Europe, Your Grace,' said Cardonnel. 'Our detractors will no longer be able to claim that Blenheim was merely an instance of good fortune. Ramillies has attested your superiority as a commander once and for all. And the real beauty of it is,' he added, 'that the triumph comes so early in the campaign.'
'Quite so, Adam,' agreed Marlborough, beaming. 'The summer lies before us. With God's help, we'll make the best of it.'
News of the victory was greeted with celebrations all over Europe. Not everyone, however, was pleased by the tidings. Three people were especially dismayed. Johannes Mytens, Willem Ketel and Gaston Loti found the news disconcerting. When they met at Mytens' house in The Hague, they were furious.
'There's no hope of peace now,' said Ketel.
'None at all,' said Mytens, gloomily. 'Encouraged by what he achieved at Ramillies, the Duke will want to fight on regardless. The drain on our national finances will be greater than ever.'
'Think of the loss of our soldiers, Johannes. Many more of them will be killed in battles to satisfy the Duke's craving for warfare.'
'The situation is hopeless.'
'I think not,' said Loti with smiling determination. 'Remember what we agreed, gentlemen. We have to cut the Gordian knot. Since the Duke is an insuperable barrier to peace, we have to be ruthless. He must die.'
'That's easier said than done,' remarked Ketel, scratching his head under his wig. 'I hired a man weeks ago to find out the best way to assassinate the Duke. He said it couldn't be done because it's impossible to get close enough.'
'Then we hire someone to shoot from a distance,' said Mytens.
'He's always surrounded by people.'
'In that case, we devise a way to kill him and his staff. If they can be lured into the right place, they can all be blown up in the same explosion.'
'It would never work, Johannes.'
'The Duke is only human.'
'Not if you listen to common report,' said Ketel, bitterly. 'He's being acclaimed as some kind of god. Wherever he goes, he'll be feted. That means the Duke will always have the protection of a crowd.'
'We are to hold a dinner in his honour here in The Hague,' said Mytens, 'and I'll be forced to cheer the Duke and fawn like all those obsequious fools in the States-General. If only we could use the occasion to have him shot dead.'
'He'll be far too well protected. Besides, if the bullet goes astray, it might kill someone else by mistake. Do you want Heinsius to be shot in place of the Duke?'
'No, Willem. The risk is too great. It's also difficult to see how an assassin could escape after firing a shot. Guards would be on him in a flash and our names would be tortured out of him. Our own lives would then be in danger. Well,' he continued, fingering his double chin, 'if it's not possible to shoot him, then we must find another means of killing him.'
'What we really need is the right man to do it.'
'You're chasing the wrong fox, gentleman,' said Loti, shrewdly. 'I fancy that there's a very simple way to dispose of the person who stands between us and a peaceful settlement to this ruinous war. I suggest that you leave the arrangements to me. I have the perfect assassin in mind.'
'Do you know of a man capable enough? ' asked Ketel.
'I wouldn't even bother looking for one, Willem. This is not a task for any man,' he went on. 'I propose to engage a woman.'
The dinner was held in the city hall and was attended by the Grand Pensionary, members of the States-General, civic worthies and invited guests. Daniel Rawson was included in the Duke of Marlborough's party. When they arrived at the venue, they wore their dress uniforms and were given an ovation by the large crowd gathered outside to welcome them. Inside the building, they were greeted in order of seniority by Grand Pensionary Heinsius. Daniel waited patiently behind Marlborough,
Overkirk, Churchill, Cadogan, Orkney and other senior officers to shake Heinsius' hand. When he entered the hall where the long tables were in a horseshoe pattern, Daniel had a surprise that took his breath away. Amalia Janssen was there. She was wearing a gorgeous blue dress with a bell-shaped skirt, a high-necked bodice and tight sleeves, ending in a cuff above the elbow. On her head was a fontage of upright lace, pleated and in tiers. The whole effect was stunning. Daniel had never seen her looking so enchanting. He rushed across to greet her.
'I never expected to see you here, Amalia,' he said.
'Father and I were invited at the Duke's suggestion,' she told him. 'I hoped against hope that you might be here as well, Daniel.'
'His Grace wanted me beside him as an interpreter. There'll be lots of worthy but rather boring speeches that I'll have to translate from the Dutch. To be honest, I wasn't looking forward to the occasion at all. Now,' he said, gazing adoringly at her, 'I'll enjoy every second.'
'And so shall I.'
'What have you been doing since we last met?'
'Nothing of any importance,' she said. 'Nothing that could possibly compare with winning a famous victory as you did.'
Daniel grinned. 'There were one or two other people who helped to achieve that victory,' he said. 'It wasn't entirely my doing.'
'I'm sure that you played a crucial part.'
'All the plaudits should go to His Grace.'
'Have you enjoyed being part of his staff?'
'Yes and no,' he replied. 'Yes, in the sense that it's placed me at the very centre of events.'
'That must have been very exciting.'
'It was, Amalia, but it also kept me away from you for a long time and that was irksome. The months I spent in England seemed like years.'
'I'm just so pleased to see you again,' she said, touching his arm. 'When I heard about the battle, I feared that you might have been injured or even killed.'
'Nothing would keep me away from you.'
'Good evening, Captain Rawson,' said Emanuel Janssen as he joined them. 'I had a feeling you'd try to monopolise my daughter. Not that I have any objection to that, mind you.'
'I'm glad to hear it,' said Daniel.
'I've just had a brief word with your commander-in-chief. He tells me that you distinguished yourself on the battlefield yet again.'
'I was only one of thousands.'
'You're always so modest,' said Amalia.
'Would you rather I told you that I'd won the battle single- handed and that I deserved — at the very least — an earldom for my services to Queen and country?'
They shared a laugh but it was the last thing they were able to do. A gong sounded and guests were directed to their seats. Daniel was on the top table, seated beside Marlborough. He was sorry that Amalia and her father were so far away from him. It was difficult to see them properly at the far end of the table. Simply having Amalia in the same room, however, had transformed the occasion. What he'd envisaged as a dull, formal event now took on the aura of a very special day in his life. The meal was excellent, the wine plentiful and the speeches interminable. Some were in English but those in Dutch required translation.
Toasts were even more plentiful than the speeches. A number of civic dignitaries felt it incumbent upon them to rise to their feet, glass in hand, and blurt out a toast. Daniel took particular interest in a member of the States-General who proposed a toast, noting that his name was Johannes Mytens. His interest sprang not from the fulsome remarks made by the man but from his dazzling companion. Mytens sat next to a handsome, poised, full-bodied woman in her twenties. At an assembly dominated by men, she had real presence. Dressed in the French fashion, she turned many heads in the course of the evening, Marlborough's included. She looked too young to be Mytens' wife and he would hardly parade a mistress at such
a function. Daniel was certain that she wasn't his daughter. In appearance and manners, she stood out from the more restrained and staid Dutch women around her. At one point, she caught his eye and gave him a quizzical smile.
When the dinner was over, guests adjourned for drinks in an adjoining chamber. Daniel was desperate to speak to Amalia but at first he couldn't see her in the crowd. Only by standing on his toes did he finally pick her out. Before he could make his way to her, a hand grasped him firmly by the wrist. He turned to face the woman whom he'd noticed during the dinner. She was even more striking at close quarters and her perfume had a bewitching aroma. She spoke in French.
'Captain Rawson?' she asked with another quizzical smile.
'Yes,' he replied.
'I couldn't help noticing that you were acting as the Duke of Marlborough's interpreter this evening. I took the liberty of asking for your name.'
'I see.'
'I'm Helene du Vivier and I have a special reason to be grateful to the Duke. Thanks to his success against the Lines of Brabant last year, I recovered a sizeable estate commandeered by the French. Several hundreds of acres were involved as well as a fine mansion. I was able to move back into my own home again. I only wish that my dear husband — who was somewhat older than I — had still been alive to experience the joy of regaining what was ours. Until it was occupied by the French, the estate had been in his family for generations.'
'I'm glad that we were able to help you, Madame,' he said.
'Is there any way that I might be permitted to speak to the Duke?' she went on, talking now in passable English. 'As you can hear, I do have some knowledge of his language.' She squeezed his wrist. 'I would love to have the opportunity of thanking him in person. It would only take two minutes, if that. Would you be so kind as to introduce me to him, Captain Rawson?'
'I'd be happy to do so, Madame.'
'Thank you.'
Her voice was a soft purr and she momentarily stroked the back of his hand before releasing it. Daniel was stirred. Had he not met Amalia and come under her spell, he would certainly have tried to develop this new acquaintance. Helene du Vivier was patently a woman of the world. Though her husband had died, he decided, she was no grieving widow but someone leading an independent existence. She searched his eyes. In any other woman, he would have found it almost brazen. In her, however, it seemed teasingly sophisticated. Daniel was curious.
'May I ask how you come to be here?' he wondered.
'My uncle, Johannes, brought me,' she explained. 'He was one of the many people who proposed a toast. He's a member of the States-General.'
'That would be Johannes Mytens, then.'
'You know him?'
'I remember him introducing himself when he gave us the toast.'
'Then you have an excellent memory, Captain.'
'Some things are impossible to forget,' he said with a smile. 'If your uncle is here, why doesn't he take you to meet His Grace?'
'Uncle Johannes had to leave, I'm afraid,' she said. 'My aunt is not well and he was anxious to get back to her. This was an occasion he could not miss so I took Aunt Jenifer's place at his side. Her loss was my gain.'
People were already departing and the crush had thinned out considerably. Daniel could see Marlborough in a corner, talking to his brother and a couple of Dutch officers. It seemed like a convenient moment to interrupt him. He took Helene du Vivier across to the group and introduced her. When she began to tell Marlborough why she held him in such high esteem, Daniel slipped away. He didn't get very far. Amalia had come looking for him.
'I thought you'd sneaked off,' she said.
'I'd never do that without speaking to you first, Amalia.'
'That's what I hoped.'
'You've made a tedious event into a joyful one.'
She giggled at the compliment. 'Thank you, Daniel.' She glanced towards Helene du Vivier. 'I saw you talking to that lady.'
'I was talking to her but thinking of you.'
'Then you were the only man in the room doing so. All the others were staring at her — even Father. In fact, he was the one who recognised her eventually. I thought there was something familiar about her but I couldn't put her name to her face.'
Daniel was interested, 'You recognised Madame du Vivier?'
'That wasn't her name when we saw her in Paris.'
'What was it?'
'I can't remember and neither could Father. What was carved into our memory, however, was her performance. I'd never been to the theatre before,' she admitted, 'and had no idea what a wondrous place it could be. Most of their names have gone but I do recall that the playwright was a gentleman called Moliere.'
'Let me understand this, Amalia,' he said, wanting the facts confirmed. 'You went to the theatre in Paris and saw Helene du Vivier onstage?'
'Yes, Daniel — she's an actress.'
The startling news made him swing round to look at the woman. Marlborough was clearly enthralled by Helene du Vivier. Whatever she was saying, it made him smile graciously and nod enthusiastically. His companions were equally fascinated. Daniel wondered how many other women would, on first acquaintance, have the elegance and aplomb to hold the attention of such important military figures. They hung on every word and reacted to every gesture. She was giving another well-rehearsed performance. It was abruptly interrupted. A loud scream rang out on the other side of the room and there was general commotion. Everyone looked in the direction from which the sound had come. Daniel and Amalia were among them. Word quickly spread that someone had just fainted, causing a shocked woman nearby to scream. The tension slowly faded away.
Daniel looked back at Marlborough in time to see him placing a kiss on Helene du Vivier's hand before she withdrew. After a salvo of farewells, she flitted off into the crowd. Daniel was suspicious. His mind was racing. What was a Parisian actress doing at such a function? If she really was there with her uncle, why had she not left with him to return to a sick aunt? Or why had her Uncle Johannes not remained for the few minutes it would have taken her to meet the evening's honoured guest? The scream had been unusually piercing from someone who'd merely seen someone faint. A gasp of surprise would have been more likely and it would have been muffled by the hubbub. Daniel came swiftly to the conclusion that the scream was a way of diverting attention. He had no idea of the purpose of the distraction until he saw Marlborough raise his wine glass to his lips.
'Your Grace!' yelled Daniel, charging across to him to take him by the elbow. 'I crave a moment with you.'
'Need the request be quite so dramatic?' said Marlborough as he was led aside. 'Is there a problem?'
'I believe that there could be. May I have your glass, please?'
'You surely do not wish to drink my wine?'
'I want to make certain that nobody drinks it, Your Grace.' He took the glass and sniffed it. Daniel pulled a face at the sour smell. "This wine has been poisoned,' he said.
"That's absurd, Daniel. Who could possibly wish to poison it?'
'It was the lady to whom you were speaking.'
'What — Madame du Vivier? She was utterly charming.'
'Her charm was very practised, Your Grace,' said Daniel, 'and her name was not Helene du Vivier. She's an actress from Paris and I believe she was here to assassinate you.'
Johannes Mytens raised a glass of wine to offer a very different toast.
'Let's drink to the death of the Duke of Marlborough!'
The others were quick to join in the celebration. Willem Ketel sucked his teeth, Gaston Loti grinned in triumph and the woman who'd assumed the name of Helene du Vivier congratulated herself on one of her finest performances. In her private life, she was Loti's mistress and the two Dutchmen were very envious of him. The four of them were in Mytens' house, relishing what they believed would be a critical turning point in the war. Even though the Allied army had secured a resounding victory at the battle of Ramillies, the death of their commander-in-chief would sap their determination to continue fighting aga
inst the French. Peace negotiations would be inevitable.
'Our decision was wise,' said Loti, complacently. 'Cut off the head and the body lacks any direction. Remove the Duke, as we did this evening, and his army will collapse.'
'The person we have to thank,' said Mytens, 'is my beautiful niece, Helene du Vivier.' The men laughed and raised their glasses to her. 'You were so convincing that I really thought I was your uncle.'
'You were equally convincing,' she told him. 'It was rather amusing to hear you propose a toast to a long and happy life for the Duke when you were actually involved in a plot to kill him.'
'It was one of many nice touches, I feel. Inventing a sick aunt for you was another one. In fact, my wife is in rude health and staying with her sister in Utrecht.'
'I'm relieved to hear it. I was very concerned about her.'
'I know that you share our commitment to peace, my dear,' said Ketel, taking the chance to slip a sly hand around her waist, 'but what you did deserves rich reward.' He offered her a purse. 'This will show you how eternally grateful we are to you.'
'Thank you,' she said, taking the purse.
'When our countries are no longer at war, I'll make a point of visiting Paris in order to see you perform in the theatre.'
'There's been no greater stage than this,' put in Loti. 'How many other actresses have the opportunity to end a wasteful conflict and restore peace to Europe?'
'Someone should write a play about it,' said Mytens. The bell rang at the front door. "That will be the report for which we've been waiting — certain news that the Duke of Marlborough died in agony from poison. Pray, excuse me.'
Setting his glass aside, Mytens went off to greet the messenger in person. It was too important a task to delegate to a servant. When he reached the front door, he drew back the bolts and threw open the door with a flourish, expecting to see the man appointed to bring the glad tidings. Instead he was looking at the drawn sword of Daniel Rawson. Four soldiers were at Daniel's back.
'What's the meaning of this?' demanded Mytens.
'You are under arrest,' said Daniel, pushing past him to enter the house. He went into the parlour and saw the woman. 'I have sad news for you, Madame du Vivier,' he announced. 'His Grace, the Duke of Marlborough, is alive and in good health. The poison you slipped into his wine is being examined by an apothecary. His Grace never touched it.' He looked at the others. 'You are doubtless parties to this conspiracy so I have the pleasure of placing you all under arrest.'
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