The King's Falcon (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 3) (27 page)

Ashley had been looking.
 
One side of her face was cameo-perfect … the other, sadly flawed.
 
She had once been an extraordinarily attractive woman and the contrast her mirror showed her must be hard to bear.
 
He said gently, ‘What happened?’

‘Two moments of carelessness – one mine and the other, the driver of a loaded-dray,’ came the economic and dispassionate reply. ‘That was six years ago. I was twenty-six and, though I shouldn’t say so myself, the best actress in Paris.
 
Now I attend to various matters at the theatre and give Froissart quantities of advice which he sometimes listens to.’
 
She paused, as if the conversation had arrived at some predestined point.
 
‘I take it your fighting skills don’t end with your fists?’

Caught off-guard, he said, ‘I’m sorry?’

She sighed.
 
‘It’s not a trick question.
 
I’m asking if you’re any good with a sword.’

A shaken laugh escaped him.

‘Better than average.
 
Why?
 
Do you need a bodyguard?’

‘That will be the day.’
 
She eyed him reflectively and then, apparently at random, said, ‘Froissart wants to stage
Mariamne
.
 
He’s getting all the mechanical devices out of storage so he can make it the most elaborate production of the season.
 
Unfortunately, the action contains two important fight sequences.
 
Sword fights, to be exact.’

Ashley finally began to see where this was going.
 
‘Unfortunately?’

‘Fight scenes are choreographed by our dancing-master.
 
They’re not his
forte
.
 
To be perfectly blunt, they generally look like a couple of fellows prancing about on hot coals, trying to swat a fly.
 
If you can do better, Froissart will pay you.
 
Not much, I’ll admit – but something.
 
If you’re interested, I’ll speak to him.
 
Well?’

He didn’t know what to say so he played for time.

‘Thus enabling me to pay the rent?’

‘Thus giving you a reason to get up in the morning,’ she retorted. ‘You can suit yourself, Colonel – it’s no skin off my nose.
 
Just don’t get smart with me when I’m trying to help you.’

A hint of colour touched Ashley’s cheekbones and he said, ‘I’m sorry.
 
I didn’t mean to sound rude or ungrateful.
 
I was just taken by surprise.
 
It’s a knack you have.’

‘I cultivate it.’
 
A brief smile showed that he was forgiven. ‘As for the play, you’ll want to think it over.
 
But don’t leave it too long.
 
Rehearsals start next week – and though we don’t usually allow more than a fortnight, Froissart is scheduling three weeks for this one on account of all the gimcrackery.’

‘Three weeks to teach someone to use a sword properly?’ asked Ashley, aghast.
 
‘It can’t be done!’

‘Three weeks to teach a precise sequence that
looks
real but won’t end up with one of them maiming the other,’ corrected Pauline, standing up. ‘Call it a challenge.
 
You never know.
 
You might enjoy it.’

*
 
*
 
*

On the following morning, while he was still mulling over the notion of taking temporary employment at the Th
éâ
tre du Marais, Colonel Peverell received an unexpected summons to wait upon Sir Edward Hyde at the Louvre. In the passage-way outside Hyde’s office, he bumped into Sir William Brierley who, when he admitted where he was bound, remarked dryly, ‘Don’t expect to leave with any sense of encouragement.
 
Hyde is a gloomy devil at the best of times – and now
isn’t
the best of times.
 
In fact, I believe that things at home are getting worse rather than better.
 
Along with Thomas Scot – with whom we’re all-too-familiar – this fellow Thurloe that they’ve appointed Secretary of State is creating an intelligence service of frightening efficiency.
 
Most depressing of all, they’ve got a new code-breaker and he’s good.’

Ashley frowned.
 
‘How do you know?’

‘Because he’s broken my last two cyphers.
 
And since I’m the best cryptologist I know, the man must be well above the average.
 
I haven’t found out who he is yet – but I’m working on it.’
 
And then, ‘Enough of that.
 
Find me when your business is done and we’ll drown our sorrows together.’

*
 
*
 
*

Due, probably, to the heavy responsibility of being the young King’s chief advisor, Sir Edward was beginning to look older than his forty-three years but he rose as soon as Ashley entered his presence and said, ‘A pleasure to see you, Colonel.
 
And I thank you for sparing the time.’

‘I have a great deal of time, Sir Edward,’ replied Ashley aridly. ‘Take as much of it as you wish.’

‘You may regret that offer when you hear my reasons for inviting you here.
 
But please sit down and take some wine.
 
It is of inferior quality, of course – but I daresay you are used to that.
 
Money is in short supply all round.’

‘Indeed.’
 
Accepting both the chair and the glass, Ashley said, ‘If you are at liberty to tell me, what is the latest news from England?’

‘There’s little you won’t already have heard.
 
Our final stronghold in Scotland, Dunottar Castle, surrendered some time ago and the royal regalia was smuggled out and hidden.
 
I am praying there is someone who knows exactly
where
.
 
His Majesty has appointed Sir John Middleton his Lieutenant-General for Scotland – but, since the Marquis of Argyll formally accepted the Commonwealth, the title can’t be anything but an empty one.’
 

‘Given Argyll’s preference for the winning side, that was no surprise. The man is a snake – and always has been.’
 

‘I am inclined to agree.’ He paused and then said, ‘For the rest, Dunkerque has surrendered to the Spanish – and the blame for
that
rests with Cromwell who appears to have signed a commercial treaty with Spain.’

‘Cromwell’s treating with
Catholics?
’

‘Yes.
 
Surprising, isn’t it?
 
The Commonwealth has agreed to intervene in this interminable war between France and Spain – with the result that, three days ago, Admiral Blake sank a supply convoy bound for Dunkerque.
 
Since the garrison surrendered the following day, one can only assume that the town was starving.’
 
Hyde reached for his glass but merely stared down into it.
 
‘Cromwell’s decision may have had something to do with his war with the Dutch.
 
My own view, however, is that it has more to do with Mazarin’s refusal to recognise the Commonwealth.’

Ashley eyed him thoughtfully.

‘Since the Cardinal offered Dunkerque to both the English and the Dutch – anything, in fact, rather than let Spain take it – I suspect he’s finding its loss a bitter enough pill to make him re-think his position.’

‘Sadly, I fear that may be true. All in all, we have very little to encourage us at the present time.’

‘Perhaps it would help if I were to evaluate current feeling at home in person?’

‘No.
 
I have regular correspondents and all their reports are wholly depressing.
 
And though I am aware that you would like to be more active, Colonel, His Majesty prefers you to remain within reach.’
 
Hyde sipped his wine and then, looking up, said, ‘I would also find that … useful.’

Ashley shifted restlessly. ‘Why?’

‘To put it bluntly, the Duke of Buckingham is luring the King into wilder and wilder excesses.
 
Stories of their escapades get worse every day and are damaging both His Majesty’s reputation and his chances of obtaining any help.
 
Someone needs to curb his activities – and I am too old and too staid to make him listen.
 
You, however, are not.
 
And he has a great regard for you.’

‘That may be true.
 
I don’t know.
 
But even if His Majesty could be persuaded to distance himself from his oldest friend, Buckingham would make sure it didn’t last.’
 
He thought for a moment. ‘Your best option might be to give the Duke a mission that would take him from Paris for a time.’

‘I’ve tried that.
 
He agrees to go – and then he finds a reason not to.’

‘So what do you want of me?
 
That I talk Charles into a proper appreciation of the things that matter?
 
Or that I chain him to my wrist and take over his leisure activities in person?’

‘A little of both, perhaps.
 
But mainly spending time with him – riding or hawking or fencing, perhaps?
 
Anything that doesn’t involve taverns, brothels and assorted low company.’
 
Sir Edward took a sheet of paper from the table beside him and offered it, saying, ‘The matter is becoming rather urgent. And then there is this.’

Colonel Peverell’s eyes travelled rapidly over the tightly-scripted page.
 
Looking up, he said, ‘Do you know where this came from?’

‘No. As it happens, that was another little thing I thought you might help me with.
 
Discreetly, of course.’

‘Of course.’
 
He frowned thoughtfully. ‘Is this the original?’

‘Yes.’

‘It wasn’t encrypted, then?’

‘No.’

‘Surprising.’
 
The Colonel folded the paper and tucked into the breast of his coat for later study. ‘You weren’t tempted to simply buy what he’s offering?’

‘Five hundred
livres
for what might turn out to be nothing at all?
 
No.
 
I sent men to watch the designated contact point but I suspect they may have been too obvious. At any rate, no one appeared. And I’ve received no further communications.’

Ashley sighed and thought,
There’s a surprise.
 
You probably sent half a dozen idiots who might as well have had signs hanging round their necks.
 
But said only, ‘Does the King know?’

‘About the letter?
 
No.’ Hyde paused, his expression oddly uncomfortable. ‘But this particular rumour has surfaced before and he denied it.
 
Consequently, I felt a certain reluctance to … question his word.’
 
Another pause.
 
‘I thought perhaps …’

‘That this was yet another little thing I could take care of?’ finished Ashley dryly. ‘You appear to have inordinate faith in both my capabilities and my standing with the King.
 
I suppose we’d better hope that it’s justified.’

~
 
*
 
*
 
~
 
*
 
*
 
~

Ashley spent the usual kind of evening with Sir William and returned, slightly drunk, to the Rue des Rosiers at a little after midnight.
 
Then, on the following morning, having risen rather later than usual with a pounding headache, he went downstairs to find Pauline Fleury.
 
In order to minimise any jolting, he walked more carefully than usual – which was how he came to hear Athenais saying flatly, ‘He’s gone to England – though God knows what for.
 
Not that I care.
 
I just hope the ship sinks.’

There was a brief silence during which Ashley remained reprehensibly outside the kitchen door.
 
Finally, Pauline said, ‘Are you sure he was behind last night?’

‘Oh for heaven’s sake!
 
Who else would it be?
 
It was a claque, Pauline.’

‘I know that.
 
But why?
 
Why
now
when he’s not even in the country?’

‘Punishment because I said no again before he left … and a demonstration of what he can do if I don’t fall into his bed when he comes back.’
 
Athenais refrained from saying that the Marquis had also asked a number of pointed questions about Colonel Peverell and made it plain that he considered the Colonel’s presence at number sixteen to be superfluous.

Pauline sighed.
 
‘You really can’t stomach him, can you?’

‘No.
 
There’s something nasty about him.
 
I don’t know exactly what it is – but he scares the hell out of me.’

‘If that’s the case, you can’t possibly give in to him.’

‘Very well to say – but he’s not going to give me any choice.
 
Last night was just a warning.
 
Think how much worse it can get.’

Deciding it was time to advertise his presence, Ashley pushed open the door saying pleasantly, ‘Good morning.’

Both women swung round to face him.
 
Pauline, as ever, controlled her expression.
 
Clutching her chamber-robe about her and blushing a little, Athenais swiftly banished her initial, involuntary smile.
 
Then she said bluntly, ‘Did you hear any of that?’

‘Are you accusing me of eavesdropping?’ he asked, with a brazen grin.
 
And when she looked at a loss, ‘Yes.
 
I heard some of it.
 
I gather there was trouble in the theatre last night?’

‘Something like that.’
 
Realising that she didn’t want to elaborate because she wasn’t sure what he’d do if he had the full story, Athenais shrugged.
 
‘It happens sometimes.’
 

‘Tell him,’ remarked Pauline quietly.

‘What?’

‘You could do worse.
 
Tell him.’

Athenais looked at the Colonel, willing him not to admit what he already knew.

‘No. It’s over and not worth discussing.’

For the time being, at least – partly because his head hurt – Ashley decided to let her get away with it.
 
He said smoothly, ‘I’ve clearly interrupted something of importance and have no wish to pry.
 
But my errand is soon discharged.’
 
He looked at Pauline. ‘My answer is yes, Madame.
 
And if you would speak to Monsieur Froissart, I’ll be grateful.’

She nodded.
 
‘I’ll see to it today.’

Athenais raised baffled brows. ‘See to what?’

‘The Colonel would like some employment, so I suggested that Froissart might engage him to arrange and rehearse the fight scenes in
Mariamne
,’ replied Pauline.
 
‘What do you think?’

Suddenly encompassed in a brilliant smile, Ashley had to remind himself to breathe.

‘That’s a wonderful idea!
 
I don’t know about Froissart – but Etienne will fall on your neck.
 
He’s already panicking at the thought of doing a couple of Dupont’s so-called sword-fights.’

‘I don’t blame him.’
 
Pauline looked at Ashley. ‘If Froissart agrees, you’ll be starting next week – every afternoon between two and five.’

‘I think,’ he said, reflecting that his investigations for Hyde and his efforts to keep Charles out of trouble could be dealt with around these hours, ‘that I can fit that into my schedule.’

‘And it would only be for three weeks.’

‘I understand that.’

‘Wait,’ said Athenais, frowning.
 
‘Froissart’s got his heart set on a lavish production – so if he wants crowd-scenes to
look
like crowd-scenes, he’ll need more walkers.
 
Particularly men.’

Suddenly impaled on two very appraising pairs of eyes, Ashley threw up a defensive hand and said, ‘No.’

‘Why not?’ asked Pauline.
 
‘You can walk, can’t you?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘And bow?
 
And stand where and when you’re told?’

‘Again, yes.
 
But --’

‘There you go, then.
 
Nothing to it.’

Ashley opened his mouth and then closed it again.
 
He wished the iron band round his skull would relax its grip.

Athenais gave a little gurgling laugh.

‘Don’t look so horrified!
 
Pauline’s right – there
is
nothing to it.
 
I’m sure you wouldn’t find it beyond your capabilities, Colonel.’

‘Thank you,’ he replied dryly. ‘But there is no way on this earth that I am strutting about in public on the stage – and that is quite final.
 
I suggest you ask Francis – Lord Wroxton, I should say.
 
He will probably be delighted.’

‘Coward,’ murmured Athenais, provocatively.

‘Absolutely,’ he agreed firmly.
 
And then, ‘Don’t think me ungrateful.
 
It’s good of you and Madame to try to help us.
 
And if either Francis or I can return the favour in any way, you need only ask.’

A peculiar sensation took place behind Athenais’s ribs and she stood up, pulling the ancient chamber-robe more securely about her.
 
‘Thank you.
 
We will.
 
And now I’d better go and dress.’

‘Good,’ said Pauline.
 
‘It’s a pity you can’t do it when you first get up instead of coming down every morning looking like a slut.’

Athenais flushed and exited with something like a flounce.

Grinning, Ashley watched her go and, when the door closed behind her, said, ‘That was a bit unkind, wasn’t it?’

‘No.
 
I don’t like slovenly habits and she’s not in the Rue Benoit now.’
 
Pauline smiled sourly. ‘Sit down, Colonel.
 
You look as though you’ve got a headache.’

He dropped to a settle. ‘I have.’

‘Probably serves you right, then.’

‘There’s no probably about it.’
 
He broke off a piece of cheese from the platter in front of him and toyed with the idea of eating it. ‘My name is Ashley – if you should feel inclined to use it.’

‘I’ll consider it.’

Because he didn’t know what else to do with it, Ashley put the morsel in his mouth and swallowed it, shuddering.
 
With an impatient gesture, Pauline filled a cup from a stoppered stone flagon and pushed it across the table, saying, ‘Drink that.
 
It tastes evil but it works.’

He drank it and, for one horrible moment, thought he was going to be sick.
 
Then, miraculously, the demon inside his head put its hammer down.
 
Setting the cup aside, he looked across at Pauline and said, ‘What’s a claque?
 
And how much worse
can
it get?’

She sat down.
 
‘So you
were
listening.
 
Why do you want to know?’

‘For fun?
 
To pass a dull Thursday?
 
Sheer nosiness?’

‘I’ve told you before not to get smart with me.’

‘So you have.’
 
He surveyed her over folded arms.
 
‘What
is
a claque?’

‘People who are paid to make or break a play – or a performer.
 
Last night, they were there to break Athenais.
 
They didn’t do it, of course – but they had a damned good try.’

‘And you think they were paid by the Marquis d’Auxerre.’

She stared at him. ‘How do you know that?’

‘I was here when he called the other day and, since Mademoiselle didn’t want to see him, I got rid of him for her.
 
I got the impression that the gentleman is … persistent.’

‘That’s one way of putting it.’
 
Pauline leaned back, eyeing him shrewdly. ‘All that before was Athenais play-acting, wasn’t it?
 
She’s already told you most of it.’

‘Some of it, certainly,’ he conceded, carefully. ‘But if I’m to be of any help, you – or she – are going to have to keep me informed.
 
Which means you’ll need to trust me.’

‘Something else to consider.’
 
Pauline stood up and, with a crooked smile, added, ‘At the theatre, you’ll continue to address me as Madame.
 
Outside it … well, outside it, I’ve no objection to you using my given name.’

*
 
*
 
*

When informed of their possible employment at the theatre, Francis’s reaction was one of extravagant enthusiasm.

‘We should have stage-names,’ he said.
 
‘Like Floridor and Bellerose and the rest of them.
 
Who knows?
 
We may become famous.’

‘Unlikely,’ responded Ashley.
 
‘You are required only to pad out crowd scenes.
 
I am confining my activities to rehearsal.
 
You
may want to take up acting as a profession
, I
most certainly don’t.’

‘Don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud.
 
Think of the advantages.’

‘Other than being paid?’

‘A bagatelle!’
 
Francis snapped his fingers.
 
‘Think of the costumes, the scenery, the applause --’

‘The rotten eggs?’

‘Learn to duck.’
 
The blue eyes brimmed with laughter.
 
‘Above all, think how utterly annoyed Celia will be when her only brother turns common actor.
 
Really, I can’t wait.’

‘In that case, you’ll be happy to remove your coat, find your sword and join me in the yard,’ remarked Ashley blandly. ‘I need to come up with a few simple but effective sequences – and I’ll want you to help me demonstrate them.’

Francis glanced out of the window.
 
‘Now?
 
It’s raining.’

‘So?’ Ashley threw his coat across a chair. ‘You won’t dissolve.
 
And don’t they say that you have to suffer for your art?’

*
 
*
 
*

After an hour’s energetic swordplay, they re-entered the kitchen to discover that they’d been performing to an audience of one.
 
Sober, morose and inclined to test the water, Mr Stott said, ‘I fought you was supposed to be a bleeding expert.’

Pulling a couple of towels from the range and tossing one to Francis, Ashley set about drying his dripping hair and said, ‘Do I take it you’re not impressed?’

Archie moved to spit and then thought better of it.

‘Not so as you’d notice.’

‘You hear that, Francis?
 
Mr Stott feels he could show us a thing or two.’

‘Never said that, did I?
 
Sword ain’t my weapon – never was.
 
I
,’ he finished with a sad sort of pride, ‘was a
pikeman
.’

Mindful of his promise to Pauline and reflecting, with wry amusement, that in the space of three days he’d gone from being unemployed to having four jobs – only one of which involved payment – Ashley nodded.
 
‘Which campaigns?’

‘N
ȍ
rdlingen, Augsberg, Breda. Joined up in ’21, I did.
 
So I’ve seen more bloody battles than you’ve ’ad ’ot dinners, lad.’

‘Colonel,’ corrected Ashley pleasantly.

Archie stared back at him truculently.
 

Taking advantage of the temporary lull, Francis crossed the room saying, ‘I perceive that this is my cue to exit.’ And over his shoulder, ‘Stage left, pursued by a bear.’

Ashley replaced the towel on the rack and started unlacing his sodden shirt.
 
He said, ‘You were never tempted to go back and fight in the wars in England?’