The King's Falcon (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 3) (66 page)

‘You can’t be sure of that.’

‘Yes, Sir.
 
I think I can.’
 
And in concise terms, he recited the arguments he’d already laid before Hyde.
 
At the end, he said, ‘Lambert won’t come – and even if he did, he’s not in a position to help you.
 
Truthfully, I doubt he knows anything at all about this.
 
Someone is taking his name in vain.’

Charles stirred restlessly in his chair. ‘To what end?’

‘If my information is correct – and I suspect that it is – to a very undesirable end, Sir.’
 
Ashley paused, still wishing he didn’t have to do this but seeing no alternative.
 
‘I believe this is the opening move in a plot to assassinate both yourself and your brother.’

The dark eyes flew suddenly wide.

‘
What
information?’

‘It isn’t particularly detailed.
 
Only that there might be a plan afoot to lure the two of you to the coast so you could be … disposed of.’

‘How long have you known this?’

‘Some weeks.
 
I passed what I knew to Sir Edward and --’

‘But neither of you thought fit to inform me?’

‘We’ve been waiting to see if anything came of it.
 
Now, seemingly, it has.’
 
He met the King’s angry expression calmly and said, ‘My job is to find out exactly what the situation is and check all the details before deciding how to deal with it.
 
And I never tell anyone more than is strictly necessary.’

‘Even me?’

‘Not even you, Sir.’
 
He paused.
 
‘There’s a possibility that this scheme is being discreetly driven from Secretary Thurloe’s office – but I have no proof of that. Yet. At the moment, I’m still waiting to find out if this really is a serious attempt on your life and, for that, I need you to encourage this fellow to write to you again and to alert me as soon as he does so.’

‘And then?’

Ashley stood up and eased the stiffness in his thigh.

‘Then I’ll instigate whatever measures seem most appropriate.
 
My priority, obviously, will be keeping yourself and the Duke of York alive.’

Charles also rose, the ghost of a smile curling his mouth.

‘For which we both thank you.’

‘Thank me when it’s over, Sir.
 
Because the game will be played by my rules – and you may not like them.’

~
 
*
 
*
 
~
 
*
 
*
 
~

‘So there it is,’ finished Ashley, having relayed the gist of both meetings to Francis.
 
‘The idiotic business of the red feather means we may be dealing with bungling amateurs but we can’t assume that when His Majesty’s life is at stake.’

Francis nodded.
 
‘So we wait for a second letter?’

‘Yes.
 
And in the meantime, we start preparing the ground. It’s possible we’ll need a little help from Pauline.
 
Do you think she’d be averse to that?’

‘I imagine that would depend on what you were asking her to do.’

‘Nothing either dangerous or difficult. But I don’t want Athenais knowing anything about it.
 
She’s beginning to recover and I’m not going to allow any new worries to interfere with that.’

‘Pauline will agree with you on that score, I’m sure.
 
So what do you need her to do?’

‘We’ll require appropriate clothing.
 
And I’m hoping that she can provide it from the theatre’s wardrobe.’

Laughter gleamed in the sapphire eyes.

‘You mean we’re going to dress up?
 
How delightful.’

‘It’s not likely to be nearly as much fun as you think.
 
You are going to impersonate the Duke of York – and will therefore have to avoid being killed by mistake.’

‘Ah. Right.’
 
Francis leaned back in his chair, absorbing this.
 
Then, ‘Since, like yourself, James is fair-haired, while the King, like myself, is not – how come the roles are not reversed?’

‘Because I’ll be playing the part of the trusty coachman, with Jem up behind dressed as a groom.
 
I imagine Hyde can supply us both with the necessary livery.’

‘Wouldn’t the King be more likely to go on horseback rather than by coach?’

‘Perhaps.
 
But then he’d be accompanied by a party of gentlemen and the quiet assassination in some back-alley would become a pitched battle.
 
I’m guessing they won’t want that.’

‘I suppose not. So who’s going to --?’

‘I’ll come back to that.
 
For now, let’s start at the beginning. If there is a second letter and it names Honfleur as the rendezvous point, I think we can assume that it’s the plot Eden warned us about – and therefore put our own plans into action.
 
Originally, I’d hoped to keep Charles completely out of the picture but that’s no longer possible.
 
Since it’s almost certain that someone will be keeping track of his movements, he and James have to be seen setting out for the coast.
 
If they don’t think he’s taken the bait, they’ll abort the whole plan.’

‘Wouldn’t that be for the best?’ asked Francis.

‘No.
 
We’ve had advance notice of this one.
 
If they’re forced to cancel it, there’s a distinct possibility they’ll come up with something else – and next time, we may not be so lucky.’

‘Even supposing we foil this one, they could do that anyway.’

‘They
could
,’ agreed Ashley, ‘but if things go as I hope, I don’t think they will.
 
If we can find the merest scrap of proof that Thurloe has sanctioned a scheme to murder the man who many people still regard as the rightful King, Hyde will make it public.
 
And that ought to be enough to stop them trying again and also give Cromwell a headache.’

‘Now there’s a winsome thought.’

‘Isn’t it?’
 
Ashley poured himself some ale and pushed the jug across the table.
 
‘But to resume.
 
Charles and James will appear to leave for Honfleur, accompanied by Jem and myself.
 
So far, so good.
 
The next part is trickier and will require some organisation.
 
We’ll need a second coach and a reliable driver for you and the man I hope will masquerade as Charles. At a suitable, pre-arranged spot, both coaches meet and we effect the exchange.
 
Charles and James drive back in the direction of Paris, spending the night at some out-of-the way inn; and the four of us journey on to Honfleur.’
 
He paused, frowning a little.
 
‘That’s the part that I’m most worried about.
 
I’d be happier if the King and his brother were being taken to safety by a couple of well-trained fellows with muskets.
 
There’s a small chance that I can get help with that.
 
If not … well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’

‘What about Sir Will Brierley?’ suggested Francis.

‘No.
 
He’s involved in some nefarious scheme of his own that I’m probably better off not knowing about.’
 
And I’m not as sure of him as I once was
.
 
But he kept that thought to himself and said instead, ‘The one part of all this that we can’t plan for is what is actually going to happen at Honfleur.
 
We don’t know who the assassins are or how many of them there will be.’

‘Or whether they’ll simply shoot us in the back as soon as we break cover,’ remarked Francis wryly. ‘And there’s another jolly thought.’

‘Pistols are noisy. I’m putting my faith in them not wanting to attract undue attention.’

‘Oh.
 
Knives, then.
 
As one of the primary targets, that makes me feel
so
much better.
 
Speaking of which … who do you think you can persuade to take the leading role?’
 

 
Ashley grinned and took his time about answering.
 
Then, ‘How much do you know about Cyrano de Bergerac?’

For a moment, Francis’s expression was one of utter disbelief.
 
Finally, he said, ‘Discounting the gossip and aside from the celebrated occasion when he saved your life? Virtually nothing. You surely don’t mean that as a serious suggestion.’

‘You have a better one?’

‘I’ve no ideas on the matter at all.
 
But … God, Ashley!
 
De Bergerac?
 
Really?
’

‘Yes, really.’

‘Then you’d better not tell Hyde.
 
He’ll have a fit.’

‘Several, probably.’
 
Ashley paused and then, not without a hint of amusement, said, ‘I’ve a fair idea of why you doubt my sanity but --’

‘It’s de Bergerac’s sanity that worries me.’

‘I’ve gathered that.
 
But – loose cannon though he may be – he’s not the completely wild barbarian of popular rumour.
 
He’s neither stupid nor lacking in moral fibre.
 
And the fact that he’s fought countless duels and is still alive says a great deal about his fighting skills.
 
If he agrees to help us, there are worse men to have at your back.’

Francis sighed.
 
‘Not to mention that we don’t have much choice?’

‘That too.
 
Have I your agreement to approach him?’

‘Do you need it?’

‘Since you’ll be risking your neck in this venture, it seems only fair.’

‘Thank you for reminding me.
 
But yes.
 
By all means go and talk to the fellow.
 
If he’s lunatic enough to throw in his lot with us, it merely makes him no madder than you or I.’

*
 
*
 
*

While Ashley was off trying to track down Cyrano de Bergerac, Francis towed Pauline into her bedroom and shot the bolt.
 
She tilted her head and looked at him.

‘Don’t think I don’t appreciate the thought or admire your stamina – but it’s the middle of the day and I’d as soon not have Athenais and the Colonel looking at us sideways.’

‘Ashley is out.
 
And I don’t mind Athenais imagining that I’ve been overcome with lust,’ he grinned, sliding hand around her waist. ‘Sadly, however, that’s not the reason we’re here – much though I’d like it to be.’

‘Oh?
 
Then you’d better stop that, hadn’t you?’ she said as he nipped his way down her neck.

‘Must I?’
 
His mouth found its way to hers.
 
‘When are you going to say you’ll marry me?’

‘Not today.’ She twisted away from him and, holding him at arms’ length, said a shade breathlessly, ‘Why are we here?’

‘I’ve forgotten.
 
You distract me.’

‘Obviously, it doesn’t take much.’

‘With you, darling?
 
Nothing at all.’
 
He gave her a deliberately lascivious glance and watched her skin warm even as her mouth quivered on the edge of laughter.
 
It was a particular pleasure of his to tease her into shedding her usual acerbic demeanour.
 
He wondered how many people ever saw her like this … flushed, ruffled and smiling.
 
Then, with reluctance, he recognised that he’d better come to the point before he really did forget what it was.
 
He said, ‘However.
 
If you sit there and I sit as far away as possible, I may manage to concentrate.’

Pauline took the window-seat and watched him subside on the edge of the bed.

‘Well?’

‘It’s complicated,’ sighed Francis. ‘And highly confidential.
 
And, at all costs, to be kept from Athenais.’

The laughter vanished abruptly and her mouth tightened.

‘Which is your way of telling me that you and Ashley are involved in something dangerous, I suppose?’

‘Yes.’

‘So why
are
you telling me?
 
You never have before.’

‘We never needed your help before.’

‘Oh God.’
 
She drew a long, bracing breath and then said, ‘Get it over with, then.’

So he did.

Frowning a little, Pauline listened without interruption and, at the end, said flatly, ‘You’re going to pose as the King’s brother and hope not to be assassinated in his place.
 
Is that what you’re telling me?’

‘More or less.’

‘And inviting Cyrano de Bergerac to join in the fun?’

‘Yes.’

She stood up, put her hands on her hips and fixed him with a furious glare.

‘Has the Colonel
completely
lost his mind?’

Francis winced.

‘I hope not – though I’ll admit that the thought had occurred to me.’
 
He waited for some sign that she was relenting and, when none came, said hesitantly, ‘Will you help?’

‘Help you get yourself killed, you mean?’

‘It shouldn’t come to that.’

‘Shouldn’t and won’t are two different things,’ she snapped. ‘If I say no, will it stop you?’

‘No.
 
It will just make things a bit more difficult.
 
But, if you want to refuse, don’t let that stand in your way.
 
I’ll respect your decision.’

‘Respect my request to stay out of it.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said slowly.
 
‘I can’t.’

Pauline sat down again with a bump, her hands clenched in her lap.
 

She said explosively, ‘I don’t want you to die.’

‘I’m not wild about the idea myself.
 
But --’

‘Don’t!
 
Don’t you
dare
joke about it!
 
It isn’t remotely funny.’

Actually, there was a tiny part of Francis that thought, if not exactly funny, it was at least mildly ironic. That he – the lightweight dilettante who, for years, no-one had never taken seriously – was about to risk getting his throat slit on behalf of the Duke of York.
 
But the look on Pauline’s face told him that he hadn’t better say that, so he murmured, ‘No.
 
Of course not. I’m sorry.’

‘Liar.’ Her voice had grown distinctly husky and the hazel eyes were over-bright. ‘If you were sorry you wouldn’t do it.’

Not entirely sure that she wouldn’t hit him, Francis sat down beside her and took her hands in his.
 
‘I
am
sorry, Pauline.
 
But if I let Ashley down … and something happened to either him or the King as a result … what sort of a man would that make me?’

‘A live one. And you don’t have to be a hero for me.
 
I love you as you are.’

It was the first time she had said it in so many words.
 
Joy exploded inside him and went fizzing through his veins.
 
There were probably a dozen things he might have said … but he uttered the first one that came to mind. ‘Thank you.’

‘Oh – you ridiculous, stubborn man!’
 
Pauline snatched her hands from his and put her arms around him, pulling him close.
 
‘You say these things and make me want to weep.’