The Mask Revealed (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 2) (19 page)

Angus looked at his brother, then, satisfied that curiosity held precedence over the need for release of pent-up energy, he pulled his chair back under the table.

“Well, as I said, after the meal, we chatted as well as we could for a time, given that she doesna speak English or French, and my Italian’s no’ up to much, and then she took me to the hothouse, where we made ourselves a wee nest in a lovely pile of straw at the back. It’s used for mulching the plants, ye ken,” he explained to Beth. “Anyway, it was while we were…er…embracing, that I heard a noise.”

The first emotion Angus had felt when he heard the door open was frustration. It seemed that the gods were conspiring to thwart his amorous intentions at every move. The second emotion was anxiety. Not for himself; he was confident that he could either talk or fight his way out if discovered. But the girl would be at the least turned out of a job, and at worst accused of trespass or burglary. Alerted by Angus’s sudden stillness, Katerina also heard the unmistakable sound of someone entering their haven, and the pair crouched down into the shadows. Angus quickly threw a few scoops of straw over them, hoping that it would be enough to conceal them, at least from a cursory inspection. The hothouse was enormous: if they remained still and quiet, they would not be discovered by accident.

Any thought that another couple might have had the same idea as them was dismissed by the intruder’s first words, which came from a point closer to their hiding place than Angus liked.

“Now, we will not be disturbed here, and you can say whatever it is that you seem to think will interest me in complete privacy. You have five minutes.” The man spoke in rapid and fluent French, and had the arrogant tone of someone who was used to being obeyed.

“When you hear what I have to say, my lord Henri, you will give me more than five minutes. My information is worth a lot of money.” The second man’s voice was more servile, but held the assurance that the information he had put him in a position of temporary power.

“I will be the judge of that. Tell me what you know.”

“Very well. I will tell you a little, and then if you wish to know more, perhaps we can come to an arrangement. The king of France is planning to invade England.”

The lord Henri laughed derisively.

“Is this the news you kept me from the opera to tell me?” he said. “Louis has been talking of invading England for twenty years, and will no doubt still be talking of it on his deathbed many years from now. You waste my time, sir.” There was a rustling sound, as the lord turned to leave.

“He is doing a good deal more than talking, my lord,” the other man put in hurriedly. “In August he sent his horsemaster James Butler to England, to find out the level of support for the Stuarts. He has now returned, and it seems there is a great deal of support for a French-led invasion. The king has now started planning. I assume you know that he is holding regular meetings with Amelot and Maurepas?”

Henri had stopped and turned back. Angus slid his arm reassuringly around the girl’s shoulder, praying she would realise from the tone of the voices that this was no light-hearted assignation, and would remain silent.

“Yes,” said Henri. “Regarding the war in Germany and Austria.”

“That is what Louis would have everyone believe. But in reality, he is planning to invade England in the spring. He has already started to assemble his forces.”

“These are serious assertions,” the lord replied. “Do you have proof?”

“Of course. I can tell you where the troops will be massing, how many ships will sail, their destination in England, and the names of the leaders of the Jacobites in England who will assist them. It is most secret information, my lord. Even the royal favourite Noailly does not know of it. Nor does Cardinal Tencin, or Orry.” The man paused.

“How is it, then, that you know?” asked his companion.

“I have my ways. Walls have ears, as you might say, and I am skilled at passing unnoticed. It doesn’t matter. The fact is, I speak the truth.”

“Yes, go on then,” said Henri impatiently.

“I think this information is worth at least, oh, a thousand louis, my lord,” the man replied. “Do you have the money?”

“A thousand louis?!” said Henri, incredulously. “Are you mad? Your news would make interesting after-dinner conversation, but is hardly worth a hundred louis, let alone a thousand.”

“Do you not think, then, that the English would pay at least double that to know the full invasion plans of the French army?”

“Maybe they would,” said Henri casually. “Is that what you then intend? To go to England with your information?”

“No, my lord. I am a servant, low-born. I could not get anywhere near King George, nor would I be believed if I did. Even if I was, I would receive little reward. Fifty pounds or so, perhaps, as befits my station. You, on the other hand, would receive a good deal more.”

“I am a trusted employee of King Louis,” replied Henri. “Do you not think it more likely that I will denounce you to the authorities as a blackmailer and a traitor, than go running to the enemy?”

“No, I do not, my lord,” his companion asserted, confident now. “Because as well as knowing Louis’ invasion plans, I also know that you are a spy in the pay of the Hanoverian king.”

“A spy?” interrupted Alex. “Did ye get a good look at the man?”

“No,” Angus admitted. “It was dark, and I didna dare to move in case we were spotted. I thought it more important that I heard all the conversation. But I think Henri was his real name. After all, they thought they were alone. Why would they use false names?”

“Do you know him, Alex?” Beth asked.

“No,” said Alex, considering. “But I havena been to Louis’ Court for a good few years, and Henri is a very common name.”

“I’d know the man again, in any case,” Angus said. “Whenever he spoke the letter ‘s’, he hissed through his teeth, just a wee bit, but enough to be distinctive.”

“What happened next?” Beth asked, enthralled.

“Henri appeared defeated, promised the man money, or even gave some to him, if he had any with him,” Alex answered.

“How do you know that?” Beth asked.

“Because it’s what I would have done. Go on,” he said to his brother.

“Aye, you’re right. There was a sort of chinking sound, and Henri said that it was something on account, and he’d draw the rest from his banker, if the information was good. The other man assured him that it was, and that if he didna pay up, he would let it be known that Henri was no’ all he appeared to be.”

“So, did he reveal the plans?” Alex said.

“Aye,” replied Angus. “They’re a wee bit uncertain at the moment, still in the early stages of planning. But it seems the duke of Beaufort, Lord Orrery, Lord Barrymore and Sir Watkin Williams Wynne, to name but a few, have all agreed to actively support an invasion, and help the troops to land at Essex. Louis is collecting information as to the number of troops and ships that can be mustered. It certainly seems serious, Alex. Henri seemed to believe him.” His eyes sparkled

“I wonder if Prince Charles knows about this?” Alex said.

“No, the informer said that Louis doesna want the Stuarts to know yet, because the prince is watched and if he leaves Rome for France, it’ll alert the British that something’s afoot.”

“Aye, well, Louis might not want Charles to know, but if he doesna know yet, he will do soon enough. He should. After all, no one in Britain, Jacobite or otherwise, will support a French invasion unless it’s to restore James Stuart to the throne.”

“He may not have heard yet,” said Beth. “Isn’t Rome virtually cut off from the outside world by the plague scare?”

Angus looked at his brother and laughed.

“So much for no’ worrying the lassie,” he said.

“How did ye know about the plague?” Alex said. “Why did you no’ say anything?”

“I read the newspapers,” responded Beth tartly. “And everything else I can get my hands on. And contrary to what everyone believes, I do occasionally listen to drawing room chatter too. There’s plague in the Mediterranean, but in Italy it seems to have been contained at Calabria. But there’s still quarantine in force everywhere, fifteen days in Genoa, I believe. I didn’t say anything, because I knew you were trying to stop me worrying, which is rather sweet, although I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

Alex looked not a little embarrassed, both at being called sweet in front of his brother, who would no doubt store this for future use, and at the fact that Beth had known about the plague all along.

“There isna any danger of contagion. I was going tae tell you,” he muttered.

“You’d have had to, soon enough,” she replied. “We’ll be in Genoa in a few days, weather permitting. I’d much rather you told me everything, you know, good or bad. You’re still underestimating me. I’m not the sort of woman who has the vapours at the slightest problem. You should know that by now.”

Intellectually he did, but he still had difficulty reconciling the fragile beauty of his wife with the indomitable spirit it concealed. Even though he had fallen in love with her wild and independent nature, she still aroused his protective instincts. He would talk to her about it, but not in front of Angus.

“What happened next, after the idiot had given all his information to Henri?” he asked.

What had happened next was that Angus had heard the unmistakable liquid gargling of a man choking on his own blood, and the sounds of a very brief scuffle, and then the blackmailer had crashed through some young banana trees and landed with a dull thud no more than a few feet from where they lay. The wire that Henri had used to garrotte the man had cut deeply into his throat, and a dark stain started to slowly spread across the floor towards their hiding place.

Angus still had his arm around Katerina’s shoulder, and feeling her tense, had clapped his hand firmly over her mouth to stifle any scream, pulling her head into his shoulder so that she couldn’t break his hold if she struggled. She stiffened for a moment, her eyes wide with threatened hysteria, then she relaxed into him. He drew his knife silently, praying that Henri would want to leave the scene of the crime as quickly as possible. The man was obviously dead, but if his killer wished to be sure, and came to examine his victim, there was a possibility that he would see the couple hiding in the straw. To his relief, Henri bent only to pick up the purse of money the man had dropped in his death throes, before leaving the room hurriedly.

“If I hadna been with the girl, I’d have killed him anyway,” Angus said. “But she knows I’m Sir Anthony’s footman. She’s been here. She’d be bound to tell someone, and I couldna bring myself to kill her too. I’m sorry, Alex.”

Alex rubbed his hands through his hair.

“Dinna be sorry, Angus. But it’s a shame you were no’ alone. We have to find out if the information about the invasion is true.”

“Is it likely to be?” Beth asked.

“Aye, it’s possible,” Alex replied. “It would be a good time to invade, with most of the British troops fighting abroad. Although they’ll be going into winter quarters soon, and a lot of them will be in Bruges and Ostend, from where they can return to England quickly, if they need to. So if Louis does plan to invade, he needs to keep it secret for as long as possible. If the French make a surprise attack, they could be in London before the troops could be recalled, and Charles could take the crown for his father. Once that happens, even his most circumspect supporters will declare for him.”

The three Jacobites sat in silence for a moment, contemplating this wonderful possibility.

 “We need to do something about this Henri, if we can find him,” Alex continued, frowning. “We
have
to find him, I think. I’d like to double back to Paris, but I canna do that without arousing suspicion. Mann is expecting me to go to Rome, so I’ll have to, but I think that now we should get there as fast as the quarantine will allow, and find out what Charles knows. We dinna ken why Henri is in Nice, of course. He may be enroute to Italy as well, for all we know. We’ll keep a look out for him on the way. Aye, it may have been better if ye’d killed him while you had the chance, Angus, but there’s no help for it now.”

“Is that what you would have done?” Beth asked. The unasked question was written on her face.
Would you have been willing to kill an innocent young girl in cold blood?

“I’m no’ certain,” Alex said candidly. “But on consideration, aye, I probably would have done. If the information is true, then we’re standing on the edge of the best chance the Stuarts will ever have to be restored to the throne. And this man Henri now has the information to stop it, if he is working for the British.” He looked intently at Beth, his eyes hard. “I will do whatever I have to to restore the Stuarts, Beth. It’s our only chance for freedom. It’s no’ always possible to protect the innocent, although where I can, I will, and I dinna blame you for being human, Angus. Part of me would have thought less of you if ye’d been able to kill her.”

Angus had laid his hands on the table, and was examining them, avoiding his brother’s gaze.

“Like ye said once before,” Alex said softly to him, “there’s a big difference between killing a man when you’re blood’s up, and killing one in cold blood. You were willing to do that last night. Killing a woman at all, let alone one ye’ve just been tumbling, is another thing entirely. I wasna being kind when I said I’m no’ certain what I’d have done, I meant it. I wasna there, I havena seen the girl, although I mean to.”

Angus looked up. Alex’s eyes were warm, affectionate, held no sign that he thought his younger brother was weak. Quite the opposite, in fact. Angus smiled, quickly, and then was serious again.

“I’m seeing her again tonight,” he said. “She’s verra bonny. But why do you need to see her? I took her to an expensive inn afterwards and managed to calm her. She’s sensible. She’ll no’ say anything, I’m sure of that. If she did, she’d risk this man coming after her. She was terrified of him, that much I could tell in any language.”

“You said the men spoke in French. Are ye sure she doesna understand the language at all?” Alex asked.