Chapter 10
They fell easily into the routine of travel again and although Sarah missed the parties, the dancing and the conversation on matters other than politics, there was a certain comfort as well. In Reims, she had felt always on her guard and even when she was enjoying herself, there was always a lurking feeling that she would be exposed as a fraud. On the road, she had no such qualms.
There was also a development which gave the journey a little added interest. When Sergeant Guay had reported as fit for duty that morning he greeted the Duke and Miss Leighton and confirmed that he was now fully recovered but, although his manners were as well-bred as ever it was apparent he was somewhat distracted. He kept turning as if he was looking for something. The Duke was about to ask if there was anything wrong when Véronique appeared, carrying some small item of Sarah’s luggage and, over her shoulder, berating one of the hotel porters in her idiomatic French. Upon seeing Guay however she stopped dead and smiled so broadly that no-one was in any doubt where her affections lay. Guay’s smile was equally broad and he started across to her.
“Bienvenue Monsieur,” Véronique’s welcome was so provocative that it was apparent Guay was having some difficulty in retraining himself from taking her into his arms there and then. At that moment, Véronique noticed that everyone in the yard was watching them, she blushed bright red and scuttled off to the carriage as fast as she could to an accompaniment of kindly laughter.
“Will it do?” The Duke asked Sarah. “I wouldn’t want her to be hurt again.”
“I think so,” Sarah said thoughtfully, “but you will have to explain a bit of her history. Technically, it would be a mesalliance, but if you were to give her a small dowry I doubt his father would mind. A third son of an impoverished Baronne will not be able to look too high for a bride.
At the inn that evening the Duke took Sergeant Guay aside and explained what he knew of Véronique’s history. Guay listened carefully,
“Thank you for telling me all this Your Grace,” he stood to attention, his face mask-like, “Am I forbidden to pay my addresses Mademoiselle Ricard? Do you have an objection to the marriage?”
The thought that Guay might think that he would intervene to prevent the marriage or even that he could, had never occurred to the Duke and he hastily reassured the sergeant.
“No. No. You misunderstand me. I am not responsible for Véronique, you will have to apply to her mother or, possibly, her uncle. I am merely pointing out that, as the son of a gentleman, your father might not regard the match with a kindly eye. Also, if you do marry her, in view of the activities of Monsieur Hainaut you may have to be a little ... sensitive. For me, I like you both very much, and I hope you will be happy.”
“I thought ...,” Guay’s face was the picture of relief. “I thought you might object and I had been prepared to be discharged. As for my father, he will like Veronique. My mother was of a similar background. Monsieur Hainaut now, that is a different matter,” he patted his sword, “one day I will hold him to account.”
“There will be long queue waiting to do that!” The Duke retorted dryly.
One evening the Duke gained another insight into Miss Leighton’s character. She had asked him curiously what had driven him to leave the country without a word to anyone.
“I was trapped,” he replied. “My staff, all of whom had known me since I was in short coats, endeavoured to do as much as they could for me. None of my houses seemed remotely like a home. I didn’t know who I was or what I was capable of and there wasn’t anyone who I could talk to. Harriet was dead, Lord Lionel severely ill and Gideon injured. All these people were talking at me and ... and I suppose I ran away. Do you know, Francis was the only person who ever told me the unvarnished truth before you?
“I should love your trap,” Sarah said meditatively, “either I am at home, where I see few people or I am being hauled across Europe to assist my uncle and where the only thing I ever talk about is politics. I like politics, but I must admit that there are times when it does become a little tedious.
“What would you like to do?” Asked the Duke fascinated by this insight. He had naturally supposed that she would have found being part of a life which very few ladies were even aware of and in which her intellect was valued, very interesting and rewarding.
“I should like,” responded Sarah, fully aware, in the light of her regard for the Duke, that it behoved her to be very careful, “to marry, to be mistress of my own home, to have children and someday grandchildren.” She looked defiantly at the Duke, “did you think I was that different from the rest of my sex?”
“So therefore,” said the Duke Slowly, “I would like the life you had and you would like the life I had.” He sat back in his chair. “Ironic, isn’t it? We always want what we cannot have.”
They arrived at Saint-Quentin in good time, a fortunate circumstance as the garrison commander had received an order in advance of their arrival, requiring two of the Guards that had travelled all the way with them from Seltz to divert to a new posting at Soissons a day’s ride to the south. Guay was not happy about it, but he had his orders. A day after his men had left, the two replacements arrived and the party continued on their way towards Amiens.
The day’s travel was beset with delays, about midday, a peasant felling a tree had allowed it to fall across the road. Guay rode to the front of the party vented his feelings upon the individual whose carelessness resulted in a tree blocking the King’s highway when he could just as easily have felled it into his own field. Faced with the certain knowledge that it would take several hours to clear the tree from the road he made the decision to turn the party around and seek a detour around the obstruction. After re-joining the highway, they made good time but then came up behind a farmer driving a large herd of cattle to market at the nearest village. The herd was too large for them to pass and so the whole party was forced to proceed at a snail’s pace. To cap it all, once they had managed to pass the cattle, a cotter pin retaining one of the wheels on the carriage bearing the baggage and the servants sheared and one of the wheels came off. They had a spare but the entire carriage had to be unloaded before it could be lifted to replace the wheel.
They had hitherto always arrived at their destination before nightfall but the day’s journey had been longer than usual and, even though they had yet a distance to travel, night had already fallen. The road which had led them due west all day sloped down through a small village and then on towards a broad river. Crossing by way of a narrow bridge the road then sloped steeply up the hill on the west bank cutting through a thickly wooded area. The inn at which they planned to stay that night was now less a mile away and the travellers were starting to relax in anticipation of dinner. As the tired horses hauled the carriages up the slope a bright light appeared in the middle of the road a hundred or so yards ahead. Guay sent the two guardsmen who were riding in front to investigate. He rode to join Francis and the Duke at the rear.
Pandemonium broke out! More bright lights appeared in the wood on either side of the road and shots were fired across the road causing the coachmen to pull up in an effort to control the frightened horses. The Guardsmen dismounted and surrounded the Carriage in which Miss Leighton was travelling and pointed their muskets into the darkness but, other than the bright lights un-sighting them, there was nothing to shoot at. Miss Leighton counted at least separate 10 voices demanding they lay down their arms and when one of the guards took aim at one of the lights. A shot sounded and the man crumpled on the floor.
“Put up your weapons,” Shouted Miss Leighton in a commanding voice as she opened the carriage door and stepped out, “you are outnumbered and you cannot see your mark, I’ll have no more blood on my conscience.” Reluctantly, but realising the truth of what she had said the guards placed their weapons on the floor.”
“May I commend you upon your admirable discretion,” said a smooth voice Miss Leighton well remembered. “There is little point in fighting if the result is a foregone co
nclusion.” Monsieur Hainaut stepped into the light and continued, “Mademoiselle Leighton,” he drawled as he bowed mockingly, “you cannot know how delighted I am to meet you once again.”
“The pleasure is all yours,” said Miss Leighton, not mincing her words, “I apprehend then, that the fallen tree and the herd of cattle were your doing?” Hainaut inclined his head in acknowledgement as Sarah continued “and the cotter pin? How did you manage?... Ah! The replacement guards. There were no orders!”
“As always your quick intelligence has solved the puzzle.” Hainaut remarked, “it is a shame that you are a woman, as a man you would be famous but,” He shook his head sadly, “I regret I can see no purpose at all for a woman with a brain. Women should stick to embroidery and playing the harp and I understand you can do neither. But it is as you say. I arranged for the false orders, it was not difficult, it only required the payment of a small sum to a minor official in the garrison at Soissons. We waited for your Guards to leave and my men simply rode in. Not only did this allow me to slow you further but instead of eight you only had six escorts.” He looked at the corpse of the dead man, "alas, now five.” At this point one of the false guards stepped into the light and whispered in to Hainaut’s ear. It appeared to be good news, because he chuckled softly and turned back to Miss Leighton. “It appears I lied. You have only four escorts. Sergeant Guay, The Duke of Sale and his man have all fled as fast as they could back down the road in the direction of Reims. It is a pity,” he remarked shaking his head in mock sorrow, “It would have been most .... satisfying to renew my acquaintance with those gentlemen. Still, once cannot have everything.” Hainaut turned to walk away and raised his hand indicating his men should carry out their orders. As he did so the men hidden in the woods walked onto the road. Sarah saw at once that they looked more like local thieves than revolutionary soldiers and the germ of an idea occurred to her. She needed to play for more time.
“Wait!” Sarah interrupted Hainaut as he walked in the direction of the woods skirting the road. He turned a questioning look in her direction, “I imagine I shall not enjoy the answer but I would like to know what will become of us?”
“It is a fair question,” Hainaut allowed. “Ten minutes after you passed through the Village on the other side of the river a wagon followed you. I would anticipate it will arrive here soon. Anything of value which you are carrying will be loaded into it and will, I imagine be divided between my friends.” He waved in the direction of the wood. “I do not know what they will do with your friends but I would imagine they would not want any survivors...,” He shrugged leaving the point unanswered, “But that is not my problem. Now you on the other hand, you are not my problem either, but still I choose to invest some time in dealing with you.” His unpleasant sneer left her in no doubt as to exactly how he was planning to spend his time. “In any event, tomorrow it will become apparent that there was a robbery on this road, a guard was shot defending you and the remainder kidnapped and disposed of elsewhere.”
“Did you tell your friends what they were doing in holding up this party?” Miss Leighton asked in a patently false tone of polite enquiry. “Do they understand that it is one thing to hold up a coach and another thing entirely to attack a coach guarded by the Garde du Corps du Roi and travelling under the King’s protection?” She increased the volume of her voice imperceptibly to ensure she was heard, “the King will take it as personal insult. Your friends will be ruthlessly hunted down.”
“How would he know who we are?” a voice growled from the darkness. The shaft had gone home.
“There cannot be many footpads in this area.” Any competent tracker will work out that there were many of you. Some of you are probably known in the local villages. A coin here and there and someone will tell the King’s men what they need to know. Have any of you any idea what is going on here? Whatever happens to me and my friends, in twenty-four hours the King’s men will be here. They will search every house for miles and they will not be gentle.”
“You didn’t say anything about attacking a Carriage protected by the King,” Sarah heard an accusatory voice say. “You just said a couple of carriages and a few servants. You said easy pickings. I’m not putting my head in a noose for a few coins. I’m off.” Judging by the muttering coming from the wood and the crashing sounds moving away, Hainaut had just lost a sizeable portion of his force.
“All the more for us,” growled one of the remainder as he wrenched open the door of the second carriage. A small and decidedly feminine boot lashed out through the opening catching him hard on the chin and he sank to the floor unconscious. A second later Véronique launched herself out of the door. Within moments one man was screaming in agony attempting to claw what appeared to be face powder out of his eyes and another was disabled on the floor groaning mightily and clutching his groin. She was quickly overpowered but by this time Hainaut was thoroughly irritated. He strode over to her and grasping her chin in a vice like grip turned he face to the light.
“Oh,” he said in a bored tone, “it is you. I have no interest in revisiting places I have already been.” At this Véronique spat in his face. Hainaut stood stunned for a moment and then very deliberately he pulled his pistol from his belt, grasped the barrel in his hand and raising his hand he prepared to bring the butt down on her head.
“Ah, Monsieur Hainaut,” A soft voice came from the direction of the coach. Hainaut snapped around in time to see Liversedge alighting from the coach. He appeared to have all the time in the world. Having successfully distracted Hainaut he continued, “When you visited my establishment ....” he paused and coughed politely, “I beg your pardon, when you still had the funds to visit my establishment and still paid your debts of honour, you were wont to act like a gentleman. You appeared to choose…,” he paused again and looked around with an expression of acute disdain on his face and then continued, “yes, you appeared to choose your friends with greater discrimination.”
“Who ...?” Hainaut peered at the man. Recognising him eventually he asked “Mon Dieu. Liversedge! What are you doing here?”
“I might” said Liversedge having lost none of his stately manner. “ask the same of you. But that would require me to display an interest in a man who has forgotten his obligations to society and his respect for the fairer sex. I am intrigued however, how do you hope to further your cause in this way? If I understand your plan correctly, no-one is to know what actually happened here. You intend it will look like a robbery. I think it will look like a planned ambush. No highwayman in his right mind would attack carriages escorted by a detachment of the Garde du Corps du Roi. It would be tantamount to suicide and footpads do not, in any event, hunt in packs. Even if you could make this look like common highway robbery, your ruse in exchanging the guards will soon be discovered and with it any idea that the King might have had that this was a coincidence. It will look like what it is, a planned assault on the authority of the King.”
Liversedge looked around at the men surrounding the two carriages and caught the eyes of as many as he could. He lifted a questioning eyebrow at one and shrugged at another. The message was clear; their earthly existence was now numbered in days. His words hit home and those men who had not left at Miss Leighton’s words were, by now, seriously worried. Liversedge spoke with such conviction and in any event, they could see that they had been deceived by Hainaut. Malevolent looks were cast in his direction suggesting that had they their chance they would make sure they evened the score. Others simply disappeared silently into the woods after their fellows. As every thief knows, there are some goods that are simply too hot to handle. Liversedge waited awhile for his words to sink in. By now more than half of the men who had joined in the original ambush had left and even those who remained were distracted and worried. Liversedge then turned to face Hainaut again directly.
“I wish you will explain something to me Sir?” It was obvious the title was conferred with no sincerity. “It has occurred to me that the scheme to blackmai
l Viscount Borden will only work if he is the only one who knows Miss Leighton is in your power. Even if the King and the British Ambassador, do not know for certain that it is you who has her, will they not at least consider that it is possible that her disappearance can be laid at your door? While this is their suspicion will not Viscount Borden be compromised? Then again,” the Major Domo said after a few moment’s pause, “while I did not consider you a particularly intelligent card player I thought you of ordinary intelligence generally; I presume you must have some plan.
“What? Did you really think this was about assisting the republican cause? That is history, the republicans did not come to my aid when I needed it and now I look after myself.” The two substitute Guards gave each other a speaking glance. It was apparent that revolution was their motive, even if it was not Monsieur Hainaut’s. If they got away, the word would soon go out that Hainaut was now a traitor to both sides. Oblivious to the black looks now directed towards him from all directions, Hainaut blithely continued, “this has absolutely nothing to do with Viscount Borden, old fool that he is,” he sneered contemptuously, rattled by the biting contempt evident in Liversedge’s tone, “this is about a woman who had the temerity to push a sword in my face and embarrass me in front of my men. This is about a woman who considers herself better than a man.” He looked around proudly in the manner of a man expecting applause. “Of course, I have no objection to furthering the republican cause in the process. I have no love for the puppet on the throne at Versailles who only rules with the permission of a foreign government. The knowledge that a party travelling under the protection of the King was so easily taken, will give those who long for a republic heart, and the fact that the victims were English will make it newsworthy. It will spread fear amongst travellers and attract attention. No one will laugh when my friends say ‘vive là république’ after this.”
“Dear me!” Liversedge’s obviously feigned surprise, spoiled the effect somewhat.” So this is only about revenge? And upon a woman too. How er... ignoble of you. Well, I suppose if you are going to abandon your principles, then you might as well abandon them all en masse.” He chuckled, “So, I will summarise, and please, you must correct me if I have anything wrong, you have set up a highway robbery deceiving your accomplices and in doing so you have condemned them to almost certain death. The King will order them to be hunted down like dogs. In deceiving the two gentlemen posing as guards you have betrayed the Republican cause as well. You are indifferent to the possibility of mass murder in the name of robbery and you intend to commit an act of great brutality on a woman. All this because your pride was hurt. Well I must say ...” Hainaut did not get to hear what it was that Liversedge would have said because at that moment a large wagon lumbered into sight up the hill.
“Well it has been so nice talking to you,” Hainaut nodded to Liversedge genially “but I really do have a prior appointment. You must excuse me.” And he turned back towards Sarah.
“But Sir, “said the voice of the Duke of Sale suavely from the direction of the woods,” I protest. I am before you in the list.”
Events then proceeded along a path which none of the assailants, so confident ten minutes previously, could possibly have anticipated. As everyone turned to the voice two loud reports shattered the night and two of the men opposite the second carriage fell on the floor already dead. From somewhere Liversedge had produced two pistols and had fired them with deadly effect. Simultaneously the driver of the carriage that had been approaching slowly up the hill whipped the horse into a gallop and as the equipage bore down on the scene a second figure, hitherto obscured by the driver leaned forward and fired once. Picking up another musket by his side he took aim and deliberately fired again. Each shot found its mark and two more men slumped to the floor.
There was immediate chaos, the remaining guards who had previously laid down their arms, retrieved them and set upon their captors. More shots were fired, again with deadly accuracy from the woods and suddenly it was the ambushers who were now fighting for their lives. These were not trained men and as Hainaut had disappeared they now had no leader. It rapidly became every man for himself. If they had them, they fired their pistols wildly into the woods, and in the melee they had no chance to re-load. Despite not knowing the number of their attackers, within a very few seconds their spirit broke and they dived into the woods fleeing pell-mell. The only two remaining were the two replacement guards who, backed against Miss Leighton’s carriage were, just, holding their fellows at bay. Suddenly there was a dull thud and one of them seemed to crumple to the floor. The reason was immediately apparent. He had been felled by Martha who had rendered him senseless by the simple expedient of leaning out of the carriage window and hitting him on the head with Sarah’s heavy Jewellery box. The distraction of seeing his comrade fall was sufficient to allow the remaining man to be disarmed and overpowered.
The Duke strolled nonchalantly into the area around the two carriages, still brightly lit by the ambusher’s lanterns and surveyed the carnage. Eight men lay dead, three more were injured, two were unconscious and the other held captive. Francis then appeared to his left and Guay to his right. Hainaut’s wagon had pulled up and to the surprise of their fellows disgorged the two Guards who had been despatched to Soissons from San-Quentin. Five men had routed a force of more than twice that number in less than a minute.
“The men of the Garde du Corps du Roi” said Guay, surveying the scene with satisfaction, “do not miss.” He turned to the Duke, “And now?” he asked.
“I doubt that they will return but perhaps...? The Duke looked back at Guay who divined his meaning instantly and within seconds ordered the detachment of Guards into the woods to give an alert in case their attackers were to regroup and mount an assault.
“Where is Hainaut, asked Francis, “I did not see him head for the woods.” He peered into the Carriage and said more urgently, “Your Grace, Miss Leighton is ....” He got no further.
“Here.” said Miss Leighton. Everyone turned to see where her voice had come from and saw Hainaut walking backwards slowly around the front of the team harnessed to the lead carriage followed at a distance by Miss Leighton. It was only when they had stepped fully into the halo of light cast by the torches that still flickered in the road that Hainaut’s strange method of progress was explained. Miss Leighton was holding him with her sword point pressed into his neck immediately under his chin. “Monsieur Hainaut here,” explained Sarah conversationally, “thought that, all things considered, he was de trop and attempted to make good his exit by crawling under the coach. Unable bear the loss of his stimulating company I stepped out of the other door and endeavoured to persuade him to stay. After due consideration, Monsieur Hainaut accepted the force of my argument and agreed, at least for the moment, to remain with us.”
“Well Monsieur,” Francis observed jovially, “you make such a habit of standing in front of Miss Leighton’s sword, you must enjoy it.” He bowed deeply, “Please do not let me interrupt.”
Hainaut had seen his object slip out of his grasp once more. He had again been bested by a woman and was now also an object of ridicule before the Duke and the men he had formerly commanded. The added fact that his humiliation was on display for the amusement of a group of servants reduced him to incandescent fury.
"Give me a sword,” he stormed “and I will show anyone here how much I enjoy using it.”
“What a splendid idea,” said Miss Leighton, a stony edge to her voice as she stepped back lowering her blade. “As he is our guest we are of course obliged to entertain him. Do please, Your Grace, accede to his request.”
The effect of his words was electric. Francis’ glance flew to his master who looked initially shocked and then thoughtful. The remaining members of the party gasped. Hainaut was stunned. He knew he was a reasonable swordsman and he thought he stood a reasonable chance in a fight. However, not for one moment did he consider that Sarah would take up his challenge. The Duke came to a decision. Nod
ding to Francis and Liversedge to secure Hainaut he walked over to Sarah and stood between her and Hainaut so that the Frenchman could not see her face.
“Are you sure?” He asked, quietly that Hainaut could not hear and at the same time looking searchingly into her eyes. She was about to nod vigorously and assert that she was ready for anything when the serious look on the Duke’s face gave her pause. This was not, she realised, something to be done lightly, in anger or on a whim. Did she really want to do it? After a moment’s consideration, she looked back at the Duke and nodded firmly. The Duke continued to search her face until he was satisfied that she was prepared and then said just as quietly, “he is strong but not, I think, light on his feet. You should defeat him with ease.” He waited to receive her nod, of acknowledgement and then stood back. “Give him a sword,” he said grimly.
Guay drew his own sword and handed it to the Duke. But he had a worried look on his face.
“What better way for Véronique to see justice done?” said the Duke quietly, and then quieter still he added, “but make sure you stand ready.” He turned and faced Hainaut. “You may let him go.” Francis and Liversedge stood back releasing their prisoner who leaned forward shaking his arms angrily as if affronted anyone should lay hands on him. He took the sword the Duke offered to him and then turned to face Miss Leighton.
“En Garde,” he shouted and, without saluting, he lunged forward savagely.
For a second the Duke’s heart had been in his mouth. Had Sarah been caught out, she would have been seriously, if not mortally, injured but Hainaut had lunged at thin air. Sarah expertly side stepped and turning quickly disarmed her opponent using the same trick that Sale had used on her a couple of weeks ago. However, she added her own embellishment; as Hainaut stumbled past she put her foot out tripping him. He fell, sprawled in the road. Unsurprisingly the onlookers roared with laughter.
“Pray get up on your feet.” Sarah voice was positively glacial. “How dare you?” Hainaut dragged himself to his feet assisted by a not so gentle prod from the tip of Guay’s boot. “Behave like that again and I shall leave you to my companions to deal with. I presume you felt you could ignore etiquette on the grounds I am a female.”
“Give me that sword,” Hainaut hissed furiously, “and I will show you how a man uses it. There will be no more childish tricks.” He neatly caught the weapon she threw in his direction, saluted with very bad grace and took his Guard.
It was to be seen that Hainaut had realised, from the neat way he had been disarmed, that Miss Leighton was not precisely the amateur that he had expected. On this second occasion, he opened with a great deal of circumspection. When she casually parried his first tentative attacks with ease he became more careful still. His eyes narrowed as he tried to anticipate his opponent’s next move. He was disappointed. Miss Leighton just held her guard and waited for him to attack. He then tried a different approach, attacking furiously and attempting to fluster her into making an error. This did not work either, he found that he could not penetrate her guard and had succeeded only in getting himself out of breath. He was then to learn how much he had underestimated his opponent. Sarah commenced her own attack forcing him to defend himself but, whereas he had been extravagant, she was compact and used only the minimum amount of effort. Where he had lashed out wildly, she was precise and where he was haphazard she was studied and organised. She was conserving her energy at the same time making him expend his own.
It was not long before Hainaut realised he was comprehensively outmatched. Sarah possessed a skill far in excess of his own. She seemed to be able to anticipate his moves with ease. When he expected resistance, he found thin air and when he did not, his sword was neatly deflected. Not long after that it occurred to him that she was deliberately playing with him, he was sure that there had been occasions when his guard had failed and he had left himself open for her to strike. Why did she not finish it? As he was unable to break through her guard and as she had no apparent desire to bring an end to his humiliation all he could do was continue and hope she made a mistake.
Suddenly he saw the opportunity he had been waiting for. Sarah’s guard was low and there was tempting target right above her heart. He lunged, confident of victory and putting his whole body-weight behind the attack. In less than a second he expected to see his Sarah crumple on the end of his sword. But he had over-committed himself and he was now off balance, his own weight now carrying him forward with the reckless thrust. At the last possible moment Sara reacted. Dropping to one knee she lifted her own weapon so that his blade caught against her hilt and was forced upwards passing harmlessly over her head. At the same time, she flexed her wrist deliberately pointing her sword directly at his heart. He was about to impale himself on her sword using his own weight but as he had fully committed to his own move there was nothing he could do about it. Hainaut realised he had killed himself. He closed his eyes and felt the sword pierce his skin and then he fell forward onto the floor.
The Travellers Page 11
