The Travellers

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The Travellers Page 8

by J. Howard Shelley


  Chapter 7

  “Miss Leighton,” he said, attracting her attention from the book she had opened on her knees.

  “You want to know why you have never heard of me before.” Miss Leighton had been expecting the question and it was not hard to see that he had been working up to the matter for some time.

  “If it is not too great an impertinence,” answered the Duke heaving a sigh of relief. “If you do not wish to tell me then please say so and on my honour I swear I shall never broach the subject again.”

  “It is not an impertinence at all; under the circumstances I could hardly complain of any question you wished to ask of me. Even were that not the case, given that we are neighbours, you need to know something about me. If you do not understand my situation it could cause a great deal of embarrassment to us both. If it helps you Sir, I have spoken to my uncle and he agrees, under the circumstances that I have no choice but to explain matters. What do you want to know?”

  “What do I want to know?" asked the Duke rhetorically. "Why did I not know my nearest neighbour, the great friend of my uncle and guardian had a very pretty niece? What haven’t I met you? Do you ever go into society? If not, why not? Who was your father? Why do you keep house for your uncle and act as his secretary? How do you know one end of a sword from another? Why were you not introduced to me when you came to my home? What ...?"

  “Stop. Stop.” Interrupted Miss Leighton with a laugh. “I see I had better tell you all of my story. It does not cause me distress to do so but the matter is a little delicate and it is not easy to know where to start.” She paused for a moment and then looked straight at the Duke. “You perhaps knew that my uncle had an older brother?”

  “Vaguely” confirmed the Duke, “I believe he was a junior officer in the Navy and was killed in an engagement off Spain while I was still in short coats.

  “He was my father.” Miss Leighton looked up and noted the Duke’s surprise.

  “I did not know he ever married, much less had any children,” The Duke said slowly. Then he realised something, “You said you have a brother. How is it then that he is not...?”

  “Viscount Borden? You are of course right, in the ordinary course of matters my brother might have expected to have succeed to the title upon my grandfather’s death.” She shuddered to a halt at this point realising the Duke might leap to entirely the wrong conclusion. In view of her feelings for the Duke she did not think that she would be able to bear it if he turned from her in revulsion. There was nothing on his face other than polite interest however and this gave her the courage to continue. “You must understand that I have no memory at all of my parents, I was always in the care of my grandfather and, after his death, in that of my uncle. Therefore, I cannot confirm my story from my own experience. I can only tell you what I have been told by my uncle and my grandfather and, a little from what I have gleaned from odd things let drop by my uncle, the household staff and from Martha.” She paused again as if to collect her thoughts and then continued. “Shortly after his nineteenth birthday, my father eloped with a woman whose family derived a living from the mill trade. He knew my grandfather would not countenance the match and therefore they were married by special licence. There had never, as I understand it, been anything more than basic courtesy between my father and my grandfather. According to popular report my father considered my grandfather a cold man completely wholly lacking in any kindness. In turn, my grandfather told me that his eldest son was a worthless fribble with no proper sense of the filial duty he owed to his father and his name. I understand that, even before his son’s marriage, my Grandfather had little good to say about him. In order to obtain the special licence he required to marry my mother, my father swore an oath that he was of age and that he had the consent of my mother’s guardian. This was of course a lie. He then kept the marriage secret for nearly three years. This was not difficult, he was stationed in Portsmouth and his naval duties meant that he was only able to visit his father on infrequent occasions. Neither my mother nor my father were particularly bothered by this as they lived, and were happy to remain, in Portsmouth. My Grandfather kept his son on a beggarly allowance and therefore they were not wealthy but the allowance he did have when added to my father’s naval pay and the small income he inherited from his mother were sufficient for their needs. He knew, but did not particularly care, that my father would disapprove of the union, the secrecy was not motivated by shame or embarrassment, indeed his fellow officers knew he was married and apparently my mother was popular with them. He merely wanted to avoid a confrontation and to protect his wife and his daughter from his father’s temper. I was born after they had been married just over a year but as my father had not yet informed his father he was married he could hardly tell him that he had a granddaughter. After three years, my father was recalled to sea as war seemed likely. By this time my mother was once again pregnant and my father decided that it would now be sensible to inform his parent of the situation. He was concerned that he might be killed and anxious to make sure his father was aware of us and therefore my father wrote to inform my grandfather of his marriage. Perhaps he thought that, presented with a fait accompli, his father might in time come around to the situation. Predictably my grandfather wrote him a blistering reply. He refused to recognise, or sanction, such an unsatisfactory marriage and he told my father that my mother and their children would never, while he was alive, be permitted entry to Borden. While this was a blow to my Father he was not overly concerned; he could not see how his parent could avoid, in the end, having to recognise the marriage or his legitimate progeny. My father would perhaps have done better to have kept him in ignorance of his marriage. As soon as my Father set sail my Grandfather seized the opportunity to end the (as he saw it) disastrous union. Taking advantage of my father’s extended absence and concerned that this next child might be a boy he contrived to set my parents’ marriage aside on the grounds that my Father had lied to obtain the special licence. My Grandfather told me that he was assisted in his endeavours by my mother’s parents who saw an opportunity to restore their honour and an opportunity to end a union they too considered an embarrassment. As the special licence should never have been issued in the first place, the marriage was annulled and therefore, at law, treated as if it never was. My brother and I were rendered, at a stroke, illegitimate and neither sets of grandparents wanted anything to do with us.”

  At these words Miss Leighton saw that Sale finally understood her position. He looked shocked and shook his head, but instead of the pity (or worse, revulsion) that she feared, his expression showed nothing but admiration. Thus emboldened she continued,

  “My grandfather’s lack of compassion did however, at least to some extent, come home to roost. Some weeks later, still in ignorance of his father’s actions, my father was killed in action and was subsequently buried at sea. His income and naval pay had perished with him and my mother received no widow’s payment because she was not legally married to my father at the time of his death. Her own family refused to take her back because she had married against their wishes and so, with nowhere else to go, she applied to my grandfather. She told him that unless he agreed to bring up his grandchildren she would make sure that what he had done became public knowledge. My grandfather was always used to hold himself as the highest of sticklers and the public comment and censure which must have accompanied the disclosure of the story was something he could not contemplate. So he agreed, on conditions. He told my mother that he would ensure my brother and I were well taken care of but that she must agree to have no further contact with us. In addition, he offered her a large sum of money to disappear. I suppose she must have accepted because I do not know where my mother is now or if she is alive or dead. I suppose my brother and I ought to have taken our mothers name as we did not have legitimate father but I have no idea who she was and in any case my grandfather would not hear of it. Having to deal with his son’s illegitimate children was bad enough, he would not have been
able to accept them with a name other than his own at all.”

  Miss Leighton stopped taking at this point and it was apparent she was deep in thought. The Duke was just about to fill the silence when Miss Leighton looked up again.

  “My grandfather died when I was seven. He made sure that I knew my history and made it clear that “the pauper brats” were barely tolerated. Unsurprisingly I did not love him at all but he was at least as good as his word, I was well brought up. I was given a good education, I was fed and clothed and I was well protected. After our grandfather died our uncle assumed responsibility for us. He was much kinder than his father had been. He told me that he had always been fond of his elder brother. Although he has never said as much, I wonder if he thinks that he has come into a title which should never have been his. He has been particularly careful to ensure that I am protected from prying eyes and public censure. He taught my brother to fence and turned a blind eye when I joined in his lessons. He ensured that I did not have to dress like a poor relation. He has settled money on both of us so that when he dies we can be independent. He did not have to do any of these things. Unlike my grandfather, I am genuinely fond of my uncle and, as he is not married, my brother and I are his only family. I know that it genuinely grieves him that he cannot openly recognise us but, especially in his position, he cannot afford to create open scandal.

  When I was sixteen, my uncle’s secretary left suddenly and I offered to help. I write very quickly and my words are legible. He never afterwards hired a replacement preferring to ask me to assist. Gradually I assumed control of his affairs and the last five years have been very interesting. The few people who are invited to Borden have become used to seeing me around and it no longer causes any comment that he has a female secretary. Nonetheless there are still occasions when my situation can be awkward and there are certain restrictions which apply to me as a result of my birth. Even a guardian as relaxed as my uncle could not foist his illegitimate niece on society and while he is prepared to acknowledge me privately, realistically, I will never make a good marriage.”

  Miss Leighton lapsed into silence. She had been under no compulsion to tell her story but she knew quite well that the Duke would have asked her uncle about her history and it would have been difficult for the Viscount to refuse the request, especially when he had good reason to be grateful to him. A point-blank refusal would have appeared rude. At least she had told the story as she wanted it told. She knew her uncle was deeply sympathetic to her position and the last thing she wanted was to become an object of pity.

  “But was there no-one else who would be prepared to take you in where your history need not be discussed? Have you no other relatives? The situation is intolerable, you are forced to live the life of a recluse merely because one intolerant and spiteful old man could not accept that his son had made his own choice of bride.” The Duke appeared to take it personally that no-one appeared to have taken the necessary steps to ensure Miss Leighton’s wellbeing.

  “My uncle has of course considered alternatives but, realistically there is no-one else. My mother’s relatives cast my mother off when she married my father and as I do not know her maiden name I could not, in any event, find them. As for my father’s relatives, he had but one brother, my uncle, and he has never married. My Grandfather had a younger brother but they argued when my Great Grandmother died and apart from one letter to my Great Grandfather from France confirming he was well we have heard nothing from him for more than 40 years.” Miss Leighton shrugged expressively, “so you see Your Grace, I am still my Grandfather’s prisoner even though he died thirteen years ago.”

  “But you are the legitimate child of your father who was the heir to the title.” objected the Duke. “I quite see that if the marriage was set aside your brother could not succeed to the Title on your grandfather’s death but I fail to see why you should have to live in seclusion.”

  “Even had the marriage not been set aside,” Miss Leighton responded patiently, “I would not have been able to go into society. The daughter of a mill worker, however eligible her father might have been, would simply not have been received. You will allow, this is correct, will you not?” The Duke was forced into a reluctant nod of assent. “How then would you account for my brother failing to succeed to the title upon my Grandfather’s death? In order to justify it, the full story would have to be told. Do you think it would be believed?”

  Miss Leighton left the question hanging expecting the Duke to answer it himself. Accepting the challenge, the Duke thought about it. Would it be believed? Probably not, it was too fantastic. Few people would consider any grandfather would be so vengeful as to disinherit their own grandchildren and expel the children’s mother. So, he asked himself, what would they believe? Light dawned.

  “You are right” he admitted heavily, “People would say that your childless uncle was trying to foist the natural children of his brother onto society, presumably as a way of ensuring the title did not die with him.” He shook his head at his own stupidity, “Your grandfather has placed you, your brother and your uncle in an impossible situation, the truth would not be believed, and the obvious alternative story, leaves your uncle’s reputation in tatters and you ostracised.” He smiled wryly, “I am not usually quite so stupid, I assure you.”

  “The lie is much easier to believe than the truth,” shrugged Miss Leighton pragmatically. “My uncle does what he can. I am well cared for and I am permitted to follow my interests. I have as much freedom as is possible and consistent with the need to avoid exposing myself and my uncle to public censure. On the rare occasions that I have met any of my father’s friends, I am introduced as my father’s natural daughter. The story is easily believed; no-one would think that Viscount Borden would shirk his responsibilities. As my uncle’s acquaintances are discreet, the story has never become public. Here in France it is a different matter, no-one cares who I am here and my uncle introduces me as his niece. Here I have more freedom and it was in the exercise of it that I agreed to drive out with Hainaut. I knew my uncle would not mind and of course I could not have guessed his intention. As to the future," Miss Leighton sighed but not with any great sense of regret, “I am used to the restriction life places upon me now,” she said wistfully,” and in truth I have a comfortable life and I live much better than many. It would be churlish to complain about that which cannot be changed. If you ask however, what it is that I would have most liked and will never have, then I think I would have enjoyed a London season.”

  Instinctively the Duke knew that platitudes or sympathy would not be well received but he had some difficulty thinking of an appropriate response. Before he could decide on a course he noticed that Martha had become very upset and was trying, not very successfully, to hide her tears. Still struggling to rise somewhat he offered her his handkerchief,

  “There is no need to worry, you know,” he said kindly, “your mistress is a very brave woman and no-one here will think the less of her for something so totally beyond her control.”

  “Thank you,” the abigail sniffed loudly into the Duke’s handkerchief. “Miss Sarah deals with her trials much better than I do.” Martha looked up her tears slowly turning to anger, “That man ....” She halted obviously looking for words which would express her feelings adequately,

  “That man ...?” The Duke invited her to continue and added, “I shouldn’t think you could shock me.” Martha gave a watery chuckle at this and looked straight at the Duke

  “I hesitate to speak ill of the dead but a more pompous, selfish, uncaring man I never met in my whole life. That he should treat his own son and his own grandchildren in that way. I hope his sins caught up with him after death in a way they never did in life.”

  “Well, I never, Martha,” Miss Leighton stared open mouthed at her abigail. “You have never said anything like that before. I never suspected you felt that strongly.”

  “Well, I never Miss Sarah,” Martha responded grimly, but with a trace of mockery, “Just
because I have not spoken does not mean I have not thought about it. That man treated your father, you and your brother with a callousness almost beyond belief. Now seemed the right time to say what I thought.” The abigail’s look challenged her mistress to gainsay her words.

  Miss Leighton was obviously taken aback by the ferocity of Martha’s words and was, unusually, lost for words. She merely shook her head and smiled. Sale, whose views were wholly in accord with Martha’s on the subject of the deceased Viscount Borden was nevertheless puzzling over an oddity. Miss Leighton’s grandfather had been utterly ruthless in achieving his aims and had sacrificed the happiness of his own son and daughter in law and the rights and expectations of his grandchildren in the process. Of the three however, Miss Leighton’s mother was most deserving of pity. She was estranged from her own family, widowed, had her marriage dissolved, seen her children made illegitimate and watched their future taken away and, as a final insult, been excluded from their upbringing. Yet Martha did not apparently feel any anger on her behalf. Twice in quick succession she had stated that Miss Leighton’s grandfather had mistreated his own son and his own grandchildren. She did not mention Miss Leighton’s mother at all.

  Martha, concluded the Duke silently, knew more than she was saying. One day, he promised himself, he was going to find out what it was.

  “So you can see Sir,” Miss Leighton was speaking again, “Why you had to know my story. You might have come to Borden to see me otherwise or invited me to Sale Park. As I cannot go into society……"

  “I beg to differ, Miss Leighton,” asserted the Duke in a voice indicating barely suppressed anger. “When I return to Sale Park, something I have every intention of doing within the next few weeks, you will be invited to visit and I give you fair warning I shall be grossly offended if you refuse.” Miss Leighton’s jaw dropped as she saw that his anger was on her behalf. “When you arrive, you will be admitted through the front door with all the ceremony I can muster and you will be afforded all of the courtesy due to a brave and intelligent woman who I hope I may count amongst my friends.” He looked directly at Miss Leighton, “I trust I make myself clear?”

  In the following days, as the Duke slowly won back to health Miss Leighton wondered if the Duke had meant what he had said. There had been many occasions when promises made to her in ignorance of her position were quietly forgotten when the circumstances of her birth were made known. It was with genuine regret that her uncle had made it made it clear, from the time she was old enough to understand, that there were some circles that would always be closed to her. She remembered one occasion soon after her grandfather had died. The daughter of a visitor to Borden had become bored with the formality of the adult conversation and set off on her own to explore the house. The two girls had bumped into each other as Sarah was playing on her own her in an upstairs corridor in the servant’s wing. The two girls liked each other on sight and played happily together every day. Sarah had shown her guest the secret passages and the priest’s hole and her visitor had told her of London and Bath and the various noble homes to which she had been taken by her doting parents. Regrettably, one day her friend innocently asked her mother why her friend Sarah was not permitted to mix with the other guests. The parents were not aware of the Borden skeleton in the closet and, when they were informed of her identity, were much shocked that their well-bred daughter had been allowed to mix with a female of such low breeding and were barely mollified at an assurance that Sarah would be excluded from the house during any future visits. The two girls were not allowed to meet again and Sarah was firmly told that she must be more careful.

  After due consideration however, Sarah concluded that the Duke’s was probably entirely serious when he gave his promise. From what she had seen thus far, he did not appear to be a man who gave his word lightly and he would probably make good on it. He had given his word in full knowledge of her circumstances and the reality was that there was probably very little risk to him in doing so. There were few who would criticise the Duke, whatever he decided to do. That left the question as to how, if the invitation were made, she would respond to it. She would be strongly tempted to accept but the potential consequences of doing so could be catastrophic for her and for her uncle. Miss Leighton shrugged inwardly. Never one to buy problems for the future she set the matter down as a bridge to be crossed, if, and when, she ever arrived at it.

  The Duke of Savoy’s prediction was proved correct. Once he was released from his bed Sale’s recovery astounded everyone but Francis, who had previous experience of his master’s powers of recuperation. Then of course three years in the Duke’s company gave him an understanding of the Duke’s determination and how little he liked being looked after. After two weeks, apart from a little stiffness which would work out in time, he was fully mobile again. As far as Francis’ experienced eye could see the Duke was back to his normal self.

  According to the letter the Duke had written to Scriven some weeks ago, Sale should have been making preparations to leave but as yet there were no signs that he was ready to leave for England. Francis would have wondered at this but he had a fair idea of the way the wind was blowing and thus he was not entirely surprised at the delay. He saw that the Duke and Miss Leighton were very comfortable in each other’s company and as the Duke improved they spent much time walking around the gardens of the Chateau chaperoned, at a discrete distance by Martha. That each liked and admired the other was obvious. He wondered if the Duke knew what he was doing. He was not a man for idle flirtation and while he had the same needs as any man he had, as far as Francis knew, never kept a mistress or given any lady to suppose there was anything more in his conversation than simple courtesy. Even if his employer were to be serious, there could be no possibility of a marriage and he did not think, even if one was offered, that Miss Leighton would accept a carte blanche.

  Nevertheless, the extended stay at the Chateaux exactly suited Francis’s purposes too, and for an identical reason. He had been trying, with some limited success, to fix his interest with Martha. They had been discrete and took very good care that neither the Duke nor Miss Leighton knew of the relationship although the budding romance was common knowledge in the servant’s hall. Francis had also been seen walking around the Chateaux grounds in the company of Miss Leighton’s maid on a number of occasions and this had resulted, on both sides, in a certain amount of good natured ribbing. Their peers made sure they sat next to each other at meals as both were popular and their nascent romance was uncritically applauded by everyone.

  Had their well-wishers known it, neither Francis nor Martha took a particularly hopeful view of their case. The Duke would soon be going home and no-one knew where Viscount Borden would be going next or if Miss Leighton would be going with him. Martha made it perfectly clear that she could not contemplate leaving her mistress’ service at the present time and she was wholly unable to say when she might be able to do so. Francis was in a similar position. While he did not want to leave the Duke’s service he was at least considering the possibility that it might be necessary but any decision had to wait until after their return to England. Francis considered himself duty bound to remain with the Duke until at least he had re-established himself in England. His genuine affection for his master would not, even at the cost of his own happiness, allow him to give notice before then.

  The immediate problem was solved for them in a wholly unexpected fashion some days later.

  One morning Viscount Borden came to see the Duke. He was obviously a troubled man and Sale formed the strong impression that he wanted to ask something but did not know where to begin. After ten minutes during which the Viscount said nothing at all but expended a great many words in doing it, the Duke decided it was time to intervene.

  “Whatever it is you came to say, you had better spit it out, Sir” he said with a smile which robbed his word of any offence. “I gather you have a favour to ask?”

  “It is my Sarah” blurted out the Viscount gratefully,
“I need to arrange for her to go home and I cannot myself escort her.” He saw that he had not really explained himself well. “We have started to investigate the possible infiltration of the Garde du Corps du Roi and it appears that the fears our percipient friend Sergeant Guay expressed may be born out. The matter is thus much more serious than we thought, Granville must now return to the Embassy in Paris and I am to go with him as D’Angoulême has asked that we go with him to Versailles to report to the King. I cannot take Sarah to Paris with me as the King cannot guarantee her safety and I cannot leave her all day in a hotel or in an ante room in Versailles. I need her to go home. She will not like it but she is a sensible girl and she will understand. D’Angoulême will provide security on the journey but she needs an escort .... I heard you were returning to England...?” The Viscount stammered to a stop.

  “Stop! Stop! My dear Sir,” The Duke replied to the unspoken request. “I will be more than happy to escort her home. How could you think anything else? I am, after all, deeply indebted to her.”

  “You are too kind,” responded the Viscount with an unhappy but greatly relieved expression on his face. “I am very fond of Sarah as if she were my own daughter but .... well… if there was any other way I would not ask.” He sighed mightily “there are many ladies in society who have not half the talent of my Sarah and yet her quality is unlikely ever to be recognised. You will of course, understand that had I any other choice I would not have imposed upon you in this way. Her situation is of the most delicate and there are those who would refuse to even talk to her because of the circumstances of her birth.” He looked anxiously at the Duke as if seeking reassurance.

  “Sir,” The Duke made haste to dispel any concerns the Viscount might have had, “Miss Leighton is one of the bravest, most intelligent and loyal women it has ever been my pleasure to meet. Pray do not concern yourself with that which she lacks, which in the end is but a small thing, but celebrate that which she has. I shall ensure she is delivered, safely, and with respect and dignity, to any place in England that you wish.”

  That another could recognise his niece’s sterling qualities gave the Viscount much heart and he retired to his room somewhat happier and a flicker of optimism. ‘If the Duke of Sale were to sponsor her,' he thought,' there may be hope.’

  There was much to do before the party could set out for England. The question of a suitable conveyance was solved by Vicomte Hainaut who insisted The Duke and his party use his own luxuriously appointed travelling chariot notwithstanding that there was a significant chance it would never be restored to him. Under the circumstances, not only did he consider himself to be honour bound to render such assistance as he could, but he was anxious, despite reassurance from the Duc D’Angoulême that he was under no personal suspicion, to be seen to be of assistance. He did not in any case believe the reassurance; he had been summoned to Paris with the Duc and he knew quite well that there were those who would hold him guilty if only by association. The likelihood of the loss of a travelling carriage was as naught when balanced against the possible loss of his head.

  A search of the locality produced a suitable second carriage which could be used by the servants and would carry the baggage and it was the work of a day or two to locate two sturdy teams to draw the vehicles. A detachment of eight soldiers from the Garde du Corps du Roi were to be attached to the party to ensure their security until they should depart France and the Duke was gratified to discover they were to be led by the newly promoted Sergeant Guay. The Duke had not yet had the opportunity to thank the Guard and he was anxious to further his acquaintance with the man he considered saved his life.

  Then of course there was the question of the Duke’s baggage which awaited his return in Strasbourg. Sale had already decided that he would not be returning to that city, instead he would travel due east through Reichshoffen and Wingen-Sur-Moder to reach the main Saverne to Saarbrüken Road at Sarre-Union. He therefore wrote to Mr. Liversedge:

  Mr. Liversedge,

  I am desolated to have to apply to you for assistance, although I promise this will be for the last time. I am returning to England in a week or so and I need my baggage, (and that belonging to my Valet) currently stored at the Hotel Alsace to be sent on to me c/o Vicomte Hainaut, Chateaux Hainaut, Eberbach-Seltz. I have paid my bill in full at the Hotel and therefore you should have no difficulty in retrieving my property.

  My friend His Grace the Duc D’Angoulême will call in at The House on his way to Paris to give you the name of the courier who is to be entrusted with my property and I trust you will by then be in position to comply with whatever arrangements he may have made on my behalf.

  Sincerely etc

  Sale.

  The Duke smiled to himself as he sealed the letter, anticipating the effect it would have on its intended recipient. He handed it to the Guard who had been directed by his hosts to deliver it knowing full well that a letter delivered by one of the King’s personal guards and informing Liversedge that no less a personage than the son of the Heir Apparent would call upon him with further instructions would act powerfully on the gaming house owner. He would not hesitate to assist a man who could command the assistance of such exalted friends.

  He could not however, have anticipated that Liversedge would deliver his property himself. Early on the fourth day after he sent his letter the courier appointed by the Duc D’Angoulême arrived with the Duke’s baggage. Liversedge, not a hair out of place and as dignified as ever, stepped down from courier’s cart and looked around as if his arrival had been eagerly awaited.

  Once Liversedge had greeted the Vicomte, a previous patron of the house, he addressed the Duke.

  “I have brought your baggage, Your Grace. I could not reconcile it with my conscience to permit it to travel unescorted.” He gave the impression that, had he not attended to the matter personally the Duke's possessions would inevitably have gone astray.

  The Duke surveyed Mr. Liversedge suspiciously. He did not consider it likely that his visitor would have bestirred himself in such a fashion had there not been a good reason.

  “I am in your debt” began the Duke sardonically, “but I believe I must not detain you. You must be anxious to return to The House.” Mr. Liversedge, he decided, did not look at all anxious to return to Strasbourg.

  “Upon learning that Your Grace,” Mr. Liversedge stated in stentorian tones, “was planning on returning to England, I considered it my duty to assist Your Grace on the journey. I shall therefore take charge of your travel plans an act as your courier and Major Domo.”

  The Duke listened to this speech appreciatively and wondered why Mr. Liversedge would undertake this task as, not for one second did he believe that he would do so by choice. Moreover, he was not at all sure that he wanted the old rascal with them although, there again, he thought, his presence would certainly make the journey more interesting.

  “But I have an escort of the comprised of eight men of the Guard du Roi,” he murmured provocatively, “I shall be well protected. And is this a volunteer assignment, or do you expect to be paid?”

  “No doubt Your Grace will be more than adequately protected, but a Kings Guardsman, no matter how well qualified, cannot locate the best inn, secure the best rooms or parlour or bespeak the best service.” Not by a flicker did Mr. Liversedge indicate he was put out or that he was unsure of being engaged. “Neither will they remember to attend to all those little details which will ensure your comfort on the journey. As for payment” he added magnanimously, “I do not require it. Your Grace may decide, when we reach the end of our journey whether I have been of service and may, if Your Grace considers it appropriate, remunerate my service at that point.”

  “Cut line Liversedge,” stated the Duke in a tone which clearly demonstrated that he did not believe a word the man had spoken. “Has someone broken your bank? Are your creditors on your heels?

  “Sir!” replied Mr. Liversedge, looking cut to the quick, “I must request you not to say such things
.”

  “Well what is it then? You are certainly not leaving from choice?”

  Mr. Liversedge adopted the demeanour of one who is used, however unfairly, to meeting with disbelief.

  “I must admit,” he replied “that your letter arrived at a most opportune moment. There is some, slight difficulty which makes it imperative to seek some other occupation elsewhere.” The Duke looked completely unmoved. “Just after Your Grace left Strasbourg, Mr. Liversedge continued reluctantly, “my life became much more difficult. Gambling has always been unofficially tolerated but recently there have been a few well-heeled gentlemen who do not know when to walk away from the tables and have thus have lost very large sums in my house and, in certain quarters, I have been unfairly held to blame. Why I should be held responsible for another’s foolishness has never yet been explained, but the fact that it has been a foreigner who has been running the most successful establishment in Alsace is, no doubt, an irritant. A little over a week ago I was informed, politely but firmly, that I should quickly wind up my affairs and leave. It was made clear to me that, if I chose not to go my hand would be forced, and,” for the first time he expression betrayed a flash of fear, “that the manner of the er... forcing would be most unpleasant.” Mr. Liversedge fingered his collar in an unconscious gesture. “I managed to sell the House”, he smiled thinly “there were no shortage of buyers. I have sent what I could back to England where I still have a bank but I am far from certain, even though I have complied with their unfair and misdirected request, that I am safe.” For the first time Mr. Liversedge, stared straight at the Duke and allowed some of his anxiety to show. “It occurred to me, that to travel with an English Duke who enjoys the King’s favour and escorted by a detachment of the Garde du Corps du Roi might afford me a little safety. If you allowed me to join you, you would not in the future have cause to regret it. I will make a very good Major-Domo.”

  The Duke actually felt sorry for Liversedge. In seven years, he had managed by sheer hard work and force of will to claw himself from nowhere to the owner of one of the most celebrated and genteel gambling houses in Europe. He had gained the respect of his many patrons and there had never been even the merest sniff of a scandal. Then a few individuals, whose skill or purses would not sustain them in the House, had decided he should be forced to leave. The Duke had little doubt that within a very few days of Mr. Liversedge’s disappearance The House would reopen under new management. Many men would have railed against the fates, Mr. Liversedge had rescued what he could and taken the first opportunity afforded him to move on. The Duke admitted to a grudging respect.

  “You may travel with us if you wish and you may leave at any time. I shall not pay you however. You received payment in advance seven years ago.” Mr. Liversedge had by now reassumed his normal persona and bowed impassively. “Please report to Sergeant Guay in respect of the travel arrangements.” And that was that. The Duke had acquired a Major Domo.

  Somewhat to the Duke’s surprise, Liversedge immediately showed the administrative flair which had held him in such good stead as the owner of a pre-eminent gaming house and assumed control of the arrangements for the Duke and Miss Leighton’s comfort. There were many small details which both the Duke and Francis had missed as a consequence of never having managed a journey with a substantial retinue over a long distance. Sergeant Guay, who of course had no knowledge of Liversedge’s colourful history, sought out the Duke the following day and was most complimentary over the changes and arrangements that had already been made following the engagement of the impressive manservant.

  Two days before they were due to leave, the Duke and Francis rode down into Seltz to see Vallon. The innkeeper’s credit locally was now enormous. Not only had he provided lodgings to an English Duke but he had assisted in the rescue of an English lady preventing her dishonour and he had taken a key role in preventing an attack on the King. More important even than that, at least in the minds of the townspeople, he had assisted in the downfall of the so reviled Monsieur Hainaut. Local men whose daughters, and in some cases wives, had attracted the unwelcome attention of this gentleman were revelling in the knowledge that Hainaut had received, in some measure at least, the justice which he deserved. He had not yet been apprehended, but when he was – and it seemed only a matter of time – he would have a large crowd at his trial.

  Vallon had accepted the praise of his peers with unwonted modesty, he was as he said, only an innkeeper and he had rendered such assistance to his guests as had been requested of him. It was initially most gratifying to be so lauded by one’s neighbours, but the praise showered on him was now starting to wear a little thin and thus it was in no particularly good mood that the Duke found him upon entering his inn. A young lad employed by Vallon had the misfortune to break a plate through carelessness and his employer was in the process describing loudly, and in minute detail, his lack of credible ancestry, intelligence, ability and future career potential, when out of the corner of his eye he saw the Duke and Francis grinning widely at his tirade. Instantly forgotten, the young miscreant made good his escape thanking his favourite saint for a timely delivery from an undefined but certainly horrible fate.

  “Your Grace,” shouted Vallon, his arms spread wide in a gesture of welcome, “I have prayed to the Holy Virgin every day for your recovery. I went to the Chateaux to enquire after you and though they told me you were well, for some reason” he grinned broadly, “they would not admit me.” Without any ceremony, he swept a small group of his regular customers from his best table and invited the Duke and his man to sit down. He hurried back with a bottle of wine from which he tenderly withdrew the cork. “I have had this bottle of claret in my cellar for many years. I kept it for the day when I should think the occasion worthy. This” he stated as he expertly decanted the deep red contents, “is that day.” Generous libations were poured into glasses and Vallon raised his in salute “your good health.”

  The Duke and Francis responded in kind and when they tasted Vallon’s wine, they were even more appreciative, the Duke going as far as to say that he had never tasted better. The formalities having been completed The Duke became much more solemn. He indicated to his host he should sit down.

  “What now?” asked the innkeeper, surprised at the sudden change of mood.

  “I recall,” the Duke said diffidently “that you have a niece who was dishonoured by our friend Monsieur Hainaut” he put up his hand to indicate that he was not to be interrupted. “I would imagine, in a small town like this, and even though everyone knows that she was not at fault, this would cause her considerable difficulty and shame.” He looked directly at Vallon, “Am I not correct?” For once deciding that he should remain silent Vallon simply nodded sharply while staring intently at his visitor. “You have heard I am returning to England with Mademoiselle Leighton?” Vallon nodded again. “I have in mind to take a female with me to assist Martha in looking after Miss Leighton and, once in England, I will find her suitable and respectable employment in my house or upon my estate. If there was such a female in Seltz who might be desirous of making a new start where she was unknown, then this might be an opportunity to do so. There is even a reasonable prospect that a personable French girl might find herself a husband.” The Duke returned Vallon’s stare steadily, “I had thought that you might know of such a female.”

  "Your Grace,” began the innkeeper after a long silence “I ....I” and he got no further as big tears began rolling down his face. After a full minute during which the Duke sat in respectful silence while Vallon tried to regain control he finally said abruptly, “I need to speak to my sister.” Without saying any more, he rose and walked out of the parlour.

  It was fully fifteen minutes before Vallon returned with Madame Ricard. With them was a girl who the Duke adjudged to number but nineteen or twenty years. She was strikingly pretty, even dressed in the simple clothes of an Alsatian girl, and the Duke could see what it was that might have attracted Hainaut’s unwanted attentions. Va
llon’s niece smiled uncertainly as she dropped a hesitant curtsey and the Duke saw that she had about her an indefinable aura of sadness. Both Madame and her daughter were plainly mystified at being called so suddenly to the inn but Madame, upon seeing the Duke immediately smiled broadly and enquired after his health. The fact that he had been injured was clearly a matter of considerable local interest. Reassured as to the Duke’s well-being Madame then asked after Mademoiselle Leighton and Miss Martha and was informed of their impending return to England. Having seen to the courtesies, the Duke directed an enquiring look as Vallon who shook his head,

  “I thought Your Grace would want to discuss the matter with Véronique personally.”

  The Duke nodded, understanding immediately. Vallon had appreciated that the proposal was best coming from Sale directly as he would need to be satisfied that the choice was Véronique’s and not one made for her by her mother or uncle. He rose to stand in front of Mademoiselle Ricard and asked,

  “Do you speak English, Mademoiselle?” he asked.

  “Un peu seulement, Yourrrr Ggrrace.” Mademoiselle dropped another curtsey as she struggled with the English pronunciation and looked at her mother, who shrugged indicating that she was as much in the dark as her daughter. Her uncle merely smiled back blandly.

  “We will speak in French then.” the Duke effortlessly switched languages. “Your uncle and your Mama have left me deep in their debt. I would not offer to do anything for them in return as I have no doubt they would consider such an offer an insult.” The expressions on two faces left him in no doubt that he was correct. “However, I can perhaps repay them and help put right a wrong done to you at the same time. I am returning to England in two days. There is, at the Chateaux Hainaut, an English Lady by the name of Mademoiselle Leighton,” Véronique nodded to indicate she had heard of Sarah “who is also desirous of returning home. She cannot travel alone over such a long distance and her uncle has therefore asked me to escort her; a task which I am more than happy to undertake. Miss Leighton has a maid but as there will be thirteen men in the party she will need more than one female to assist her and to ensure propriety. In addition, I think it is very likely that she will receive much greater attention from French innkeepers if it is known there is one travelling with her who is French. Your uncle has suggested to me that you might be prepared to assist us. When I arrive at Le Havre, if you do not want to travel with us to England I shall arrange for you to be safely returned to your mother. If, however, you wish to remain with us you may come to England and I shall find employment for you either in my house or somewhere on my estate. I want to make it absolutely plain, if you do not care to leave your home then no-one will pressure you to accept my offer, but this may be an opportunity for you to start all over where you are unknown.”

  Véronique had listened courteously from the start of this rather long speech, but, as she listened and the offer became clear, she had begun to smile. Initially the smile had contained a measure of disbelief as if she could not really believe that fortune had at last smiled upon her. As the Duke continued to outline his offer the smile became broader. When he finished an expression of such brilliance burst from her face that Sale was momentarily taken aback.

  “Oh yes Your Grace, please I would love to come to England to serve you and Mademoiselle”, and she turned to Madame and started talking very quickly and in such idiomatic French that the Duke rapidly became lost. Vallon came over to the Duke and said blandly,

  “She said yes!” Both men burst out laughing. Vallon continued in a low voice “it has been three years since last I saw that smile” he took the Duke’s hand and shook it so hard that Sale thought his teeth would fall out. “Thank you for returning my niece to us,” he said simply and then continued “but even so I am sad that she will now be leaving us again.”

  It was another hour before the Duke and Francis could leave the inn. There were many toasts to be drunk and the arrangements to be made for Véronique to join them. The Duke confirmed that Véronique would write to her mother regularly and, as he had every intention of regularly visiting France in the future, if she remained with him she would have the opportunity to go home occasionally. It was decided that Vallon would bring his niece up to the Chateaux the following afternoon so that she could be introduced to Miss Leighton but that she should then return home to spend her last night with her family. She would attend the Chateaux no later than ten o’clock the day after that. As the Duke finally left the inn he could still hear Mademoiselle Ricard excitedly planning and re-planning what she should take with her.

  “I wonder”, said the Duke to Francis as they rode back to the Chateaux, "if she will be as excitable as that the whole way to England."

  “We certainly won’t be bored on the road”, answered his man with a grin. “Not with Miss Ricard and Liversedge, although,” he added, hearing another shriek from behind him, “we may be deaf!”

 

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