Amberley Chronicles Boxset I: The Impostor Debutante My Last Marchioness the Sister Quest (Amberley Chronicles Boxsets Book 1) (25 page)

Chapter 15

With four fast horses and a lightweight carriage, James and Alphonse covered the distance from Nantes to the castle in record time. Dry weather and the excellent quality of the roads, except for the last six miles, contributed to their speed.

As they approached the massive building, with its elaborately carved towers, chimneys and expensively restored medieval stonework, neither of them wasted another thought on architecture or money. The fate of little Monique was the only thing on their minds.

The dignified major-domo received his master without surprise, no doubt aware of the urgent message that had gone out barely a week before.

“Has my daughter been found?” Alphonse asked immediately, but the man only shook his head with regret. “Not yet, Monsieur le Marquis.”

“Please make my friend comfortable,” Alphonse said, “I must talk to my mother right away – I’ll see you after, James. Where is the Marquise?”

Upon learning that she was to be found in the green salon, Alphonse left his James with the servant, and strode towards that apartment with impatience.

To his annoyance, he found his mother in the company of six other people, all guests and cronies of her own generation. It took several endless minutes to detach her from these, and he rather feared he had shown less than perfect manners in getting rid of the hangers-on. Indeed, his mother upbraided him on that very subject as soon as they were alone.

“Really, Alphonse, my son, is this how I have taught you to behave? Telling my guests practically to their faces that they should make themselves scarce? They were consoling and supporting me in this difficult time!”

“Never mind about that,” he said impatiently. “Have you any news of my daughter? Why would Mme Fourrier take her away from the castle?”

“I really have no idea,” his mother said, dabbling at her dark eyes with a fine embroidered handkerchief. “I never approved of the impertinent woman, after she refused, point-blank, to give the baby the remedy that Dr. Mellieux had prescribed. She always acted as though she knew best.”

Alphonse suppressed his anger. “Just what happened in the days before she disappeared? Did you receive my letter, suggesting that the child be brought to Sussex?”

“Yes, though how you came to have such a nonsensical notion, I cannot imagine. To take a sickly, fragile child travelling across the sea! I was going to write back that it was out of the question, but they had disappeared before I could do so.”

“How was Monique’s health in those last days before she was abducted? Had she any particular problems?”

“According to Mme Fourrier, she was doing better, crawling all over the nursery. I was so busy with my guests, that I took her word for it.”

“These same guests I just met?”

“Those are just the few that are left. It was a larger house party, of over twenty. Now that the year of mourning is finally over, and we have our castle back in good repair, it is only natural that I should gather my own friends, and the few remaining family members, about me. Especially when you decamped the moment you came out of deep mourning.” A tinge of accusation coloured her plaintive voice. 

For the first time in his life, Alphonse felt furious at his mother. “So you were too busy to check on your granddaughter personally?”

“Naturally I gave orders to inform me immediately if there was any problem. And I did look in on her at night, now and then. She was sleeping peacefully each time.”

“Did you speak with Mme Fourrier in the days before she left?”

“She came to me about two days before that, with a ridiculous rigmarole about one of my guests. Of course I quickly sent her away with a flea in her ear. That woman simply did not know her proper place.”

Alphonse wanted to shake her. “Please tell me exactly what she said. Don’t you see it must be important?”

“I cannot see how. She claimed that she was uneasy at the presence of M. de Montalban in the nursery, the way he was looking at little Monique. Of course he would take an interest in her – she is great-niece through poor Louise-Henriette. For some ridiculous reason Mme Fourrier had taken it into her head that he might be up to no good. Before the revolution, a woman of her class would never have dared to make such allegations against a Comte de Montalban.”

Alphonse held on to his temper with enormous effort. “Mother, aren’t you aware that little Monique’s life is all that stands between the Comte and over ten million francs?”

She stared at him. “Don’t tell me you are taking that woman’s fears seriously! As though money could ever tempt a Montalban to raise his hand against a blood relative!”

“Doesn’t the fellow have political ambitions, from what I have heard, and several expensive children of his own to set up in life? I really cannot understand how you can be so naïve, mother, after living through the revolution.”

“But the revolution, that was the work of
canailles
and traitors, Alphonse. Our own relatives are above suspicion, surely.” The Marquise sounded genuinely upset.

“So Mme Fourrier came to you with her concerns, and you did not take them seriously,” Alphonse summed up. “What did she expect you to do?”

“To send the Comte away. But I could not do that, of course, since he was an invited guest, and family.”

“That was before my letter arrived?”

“The day before, as best I remember.” She sounded subdued now. Maybe he had finally penetrated through the shroud of her class prejudice, and raised doubt in her mind.

“Thank you, Mother, I will go to the nursery now and see if I can find out anything else. One last question – where is de Montalban now?”

“He went back home, to Paris, right after we discovered the child was missing. So did most of the other guests.”

“And have you searched Mme Fourrier’s house?”

“Of course, and we asked all her friends and relatives for news. There was no trace.” 

+++

The empty nursery was such a sad sight that Alphonse had to close his eyes, and take a few deep breaths, before he could master his emotions.

Everything was orderly and neat – too neat. There was no smell of milk and diapers in the clean, crisp air, no bustling maids bringing in fresh-laundered clothes and taking away the washing water. The only person visible was the assistant nursery maid, Manon, seated in a chair and placidly knitting a tiny cap from thin white cotton yarn. Would it ever grace the head of his daughter? The servant did not appear particularly troubled, considering the sad circumstances.

On seeing her master, the girl jumped up, put her knitting down and curtsied deeply.

“Manon, do you have any idea where Mme Fourrier has taken my child?” His voice was raw.

The girl looked surprised. “Did she not say in the note she left, Monsieur?”

“What note?”

“She left a note for the Marquise, that I gave to that gentleman – M. de Montalban – in the morning, after they had gone,” she said, looking puzzled. “Did he not deliver it, as he offered he would?”

“It would seem not. Why was he in the nursery in the first place?”

“I do not know, Monsieur.”

“And where do
you
think Mme Fourrier took my daughter, Manon?”

She looked at him with innocent astonishment. “Why to you, Sir, as you told her to, in your letter.”

Alphonse closed his eyes for a moment. When he recovered his voice and composure, he asked, “You knew this, all this time?”

“But of course, Monsieur, the entire nursery staff was aware of your orders. Mme Bette was doubtful about the wisdom of it, what with all the drafts on ships and carriages, but since it is summer, and warm, and Mademoiselle had been so much stronger lately, most of us thought the risk small enough.”

“Didn’t the Marquise question you after Mme Fourrier left?” It had been eight days already, or was it nine?

“Mme la Marquise relays her commands via the major-domo, Monsieur, or the housekeeper. She has never spoken to anyone here personally, except of course Mme Fourrier, who is not afraid of the devil.” There was distinct admiration for the intrepid wet nurse in Manon’s voice.

“Did Mme Fourrier say which route she planned on taking?”

“No, at least not in my hearing. She hired a coach in the town, and left northwards, I assume for Paris. If the coach has come back in the meantime, the coachman would know where it left her.”

“Did you not wonder why Mme Fourrier went all alone with the child, and did not take any of you along?”

“I would not have minded coming to England, Sir, but she said the money you sent was just enough for one. She cashed the draft in town before her departure.”

His cursed bank draft had never been intended to pay a passage – merely whatever additional luxuries the child might require. The amount was pitifully small, if Mme Fourrier intended to go all the way to England. And had he even given the direction of the Ellsworthy’s Sussex estate in the second letter? He had an uneasy feeling that he had only mentioned that crucial detail in the longer letter to the Marquise.

Alphonse rang the bell with such violence that he tore off the embroidered strip of cloth on which it was fixed. The major-domo appeared within a minute, looking apprehensive at his master’s stormy face.

“Gather all the servants in the great hall, in fifteen minutes,” Alphonse ordered, “without exception. And please convey my desire that they join us to the Marquise, and my friend, Monsieur Ellsworthy.”

As the major-domo hurried off to do his bidding, Alphonse leaned against the wall for a moment, almost unable to contain his relief. Not an abduction – just a misunderstanding, caused by his own damnable carelessness, and unclear orders. And apparently in his huge household, the right hand had no idea what the left hand was doing, or knew. This had to change.

Alphonse let out his breath. But, hold on – his relief might be premature. Had he not always previously had the greatest respect for Mme Fourrier’s good sense? If she thought that the child might be in danger from her great-uncle, who was also the little girl’s heir, then she might well be right. Her cynical realism was likely closer to the truth than his mother’s rosy-tinted view of her fellow aristocrats.

The undelivered note was also highly suspicious. Why had the Comte de Montalban come to the nursery at all, without the Marquise or some other close family member as an escort? It was far removed from the guest rooms.

And even if all wilder suspicions were unfounded, his poor sickly child was on her way to England with only one person about her, who had little money and spoke only French. How had it ever come to this?

James and he needed to set off again, right away, chasing after the child and her nurse. Northwards, towards Paris – a huge city where a single woman and young child could disappear with frightening ease. But first he was going to wring every drop of information out of his staff, the family, and the livery stable in town. The whole thing had been completely mishandled, from start to finish, not least by the noble Marquis de Ville-Deuxtours.

For his child’s sake he had to do better, starting right now.

Chapter 16

As their carriage sped away from the castle and town, only five hours after their arrival, James cast a concerned look at his friend’s tense features. Tactfully, he refrained from comment on the remarkable scene he had witnessed in the castle’s great hall.

“I am a complete failure at this – being a Marquis, I mean, and a father,” Alphonse suddenly said. “Don’t wrap it in clean linen, say what you must be thinking, James. How could I live in the castle for more than a year and be unaware that the household was riddled with faction; that my mother’s staff kept completely aloof from the local employees, including the nursery staff? I didn’t even know that the latter have a separate kitchen and did not take their meals together with the others. And as for that completely useless major-domo, I will pension him off at the first opportunity.”

“I understand, but knowing about problems among the staff is mainly the function of the mistress, Alphonse. Those hundred and twenty employees are as many as the crew of a small warship. Nobody is appointed captain of such a ship, who has not worked his way up from midshipman and through all the grades.
You
became Marquis quite suddenly, and with no practical experience beforehand.”

“Yes, truth to say I was far more comfortable in London with my staff of five, than in this splendid mausoleum with so many. But my mother, James – she was brought up to be mistress of such an establishment. Why didn’t she realise the problems we had?”

“During your marriage, your late wife would have been technically in charge, and I suspect your mother never properly took up the reins again – from what I gathered, she was happily reliving the days of her glory among her noble guests, and never particularly interested in your servants’ feelings and opinions in the first place.”

“Louise-Henriette was even less interested in such matters. They were completely beneath her notice.”

“Then if you are the captain, you have been missing a capable first officer since the very start of your tenure. This might not matter so much in an old-established household where the servants are already working as a team, as they do at Amberley. This castle of yours has only been back in your family’s hands since 1816, for barely six years, and your staff is still an uneasy mixture – nor would I be surprised if some of them harbour republican feelings and resentment.”

“Yes, now you mention it, the head cook dates from the General’s time … Good God. We have been lucky that he did not poison us when my family first turned up at the place.”

“That would hardly be wise on his part. Judging by the lunch I was served, you are fortunate to have him.”

“I know. Those Bonapartists love good French cuisine as much as we Royalists ever did. I’ll increase his salary, just in case.”

They continued in silence for a few minutes. “I do not know what to think of Louis-Henriette’s uncle, the Comte. He has a strong motive to wish for Monique’s death, but would he really do anything about it? Mother finds it unthinkable, and though I do not know the man well, I also find it hard to believe. The man is an ardent Roman Catholic, and often attends Mass even on weekdays.”

“Better safe than sorry,” James advised. “Even if he should be completely innocent, I would not let him within a hundred feet of your daughter again, if I were you.”

“You are right, of course.” Alphonse had already issued strict orders that the Comte was not to set foot in the castle.

“Just how long will he have a claim on your daughter’s inheritance, according to the settlements you signed?”

“Until she comes of age or marries, unfortunately. That day cannot come soon enough for me.”

“You once told me you could not even imagine yourself with grown-up children,” James recalled with a slight smile. “I take it that has changed.”

“It was five years ago, but I have aged at least ten in that time. Many things are imaginable now, that never were so in my youth.”

“Matured, rather than aged,” James amended. “You still look young enough.”

“As to that, it helps that I could finally leave off the deep mourning. Black is such a gloomy colour. That I did not miss Louise-Henriette as much  as a young widower might be supposed to miss his wife, only added to the depressing atmosphere of this last year. I did not come to England only to visit you; I was also in dire need of a new wardrobe.”

“Paris would be more convenient for that.”

“Yes, but I prefer the English tailors I have used since I was in my teens. I am a sad creature of habit, James.”

“We all are. If you are satisfied with your tailor, why try something new?”

Tired of small talk, Alphonse came back to his main worry. “How soon do you think we’ll find Mme Fourrier?”

“She has over a week’s head start, even though she took a slower route. Do you know why she would do that?”

“That’s my own damn fault.” Alphonse’s voice was bitter. “Had mother sent Monique to me, as I requested, of course they would have taken a boat in Nantes, and travelled the quickest way, by sea, as we did. But I did not send Mme Fourrier nearly enough to rent a whole boat, and there is no passenger service from Nantes to English ports. So she would logically go northwards, and book passage on one of the regular ferries. Travelling with any kind of riff-raff.” He clenched his fist in frustration. “Anything could happen, and she has no English at all – well, maybe a few words like ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. If my mother was foolish, Mme Fourrier was no less so, to set out with the child under such conditions. What was she thinking?”

“We must suppose she was really worried about de Montalban.”

“He could have followed her, or sent a servant after her. The child may never again be this vulnerable.” Alphonse’s eyes were open, but did not see the vineyards they were passing, from which the bulk of his income derived. “If I find Monique again whole and sound, I am never going to let her out of my sight again.”

“A capable wife would help you avoid such muddles in future,” James said. “In my family, though our two estates are not nearly as big as yours, Charlotte is the captain, and I her first officer, at least in all domestic matters. She knows everything that goes on under our roof.”

“But women like your Charlotte are not easy to find. She has a good heart, a strong mind, and a backbone. She’s the perfect wife, and from what I have observed, an even better mother.”

James had to smile. “Nobody is perfect, not even Charlotte, and I’m glad of it. Certainly not you or I. If you look around, you will find a girl that fits into your life as smoothly as Charlotte fits into mine, and is a good mother to your child. Fate has given you a second chance; don’t squander it.”

Perhaps Alphonse had already found her, but it would be excessively presumptuous to take anything for granted. “How do I know for sure, though? We so rarely have the chance to know young ladies, truly know them, except superficially. Before I married, Louise-Henriette and I had only had the most vapid of exchanges, about the weather, fashion, and who was in favour at court. I had no idea what she was truly like, and she probably did not know me any better.”

“I always think that a person’s true character and mettle is revealed in adversity. That would not help with the polished debutantes of the marriage mart, I suppose. As a rule of thumb, if a girl proved unwilling or unable to talk about anything but the weather and fashion, you should forget her, no matter how attractive she might otherwise be.”

“God, yes, I’ve had enough of that to last me a lifetime.”

+++

After two long days and short nights on the road, they arrived at the Maison Ville-Deuxtours in the Marais in the early afternoon, tired and frazzled. The slow progress inside Paris city limits was the last straw, but they suffered every delay in grim silence.

Alphonse had decided to break the journey for one night at his home in the capital, partly in order to call on the Comte de Montalban. A talk with his late wife’s uncle should give him a better idea if the man represented a danger to his daughter. James was sceptical of this notion, pointing out that aristocratic villains were not easily recognizable. A man who attended Mass frequently and still plotted the murder of an infant must be such a hypocrite, James argued, that he could easily pull the wool over anyone’s eyes; such monsters were only to be caught red-handed, if at all.

He was not loath to rest a few hours, however, and would use the time of his friend’s absence for a leisurely bath and careful shave. Dressed in more elegant clothes than practical
en route
, he might finally feel civilised again, and the helpful staff could do something with his linens overnight.

They were greeted with most encouraging intelligence, when they arrived. Mme Fourrier and the young demoiselle had also spent a night there, on their way to Calais, as the butler helpfully explained. The butler had sent a hamper of supplies and one of the establishment’s sturdy footmen to escort the nurse and child to the port city, since they were travelling in a cheap hired coach, rather than in in one of the family’s carriages. The servant was too urbane to betray his disapproval of such ramshackle proceedings by anything more than a slightly raised brow, but Alphonse caught his opinion perfectly, and flushed with mortification.

“You did not think of holding them back here in Paris, until more suitable arrangements could be made?”

“The nurse showed me the letter in your own hand, Monsieur le Marquis, how could I?”

“How was the little girl?” James asked. “Did she seem at all sickly and fatigued from the long trip?”

“She was sleeping most of the time she was here, Sir.”

“Has the footman come back yet from Calais?”

“No, and he might not return until the coming week; he has family in that region, and I gave him a week off so he could visit them.”

“If she travelled via Calais, she would arrive in Dover, I suppose,” James said. “Where would she go from there?”

“But to London,
bien entendu
,” the butler said. “That is where the master’s other home is, isn’t it?”

“Would she even get there, without any English?” Alphonse could envisage, only too vividly, the dangers facing a single woman traveller encumbered by a small child.

“From what I have seen of Mme Fourrier, whom I had not met before this, I do not doubt that she will make her way to London,” the butler opined. “She is a woman of very strong will.”

Alphonse thanked and dismissed him.

“That’s all very well, having a strong will,” he said discontentedly to James when the man had gone, “but the strongest will is useless if you run out of money on the way. Mme Fourrier has no idea how expensive England is, and the moneychangers are crooks, most of them.”

James could not deny it. “Still, look at the bright side. By spending the night here in your Paris house, she saved one night’s expenses, as well as the cost for food. She sounds like a sharp woman. We can do nothing but put our trust in her.”

“Trust? I want to wring her neck,” Alphonse grumbled, as he left to wash and change before seeking out the Comte.