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Authors: Elizabeth Bailey

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‘For shame, Melusine,’ protested Lucy, as the butler bowed
himself out of the room. ‘Poor Gerald has been very busy about your affairs
this last week.’

‘This is not a new thing,’ Melusine snapped, goaded. ‘Always
he is busy about my affairs. But he does not come to see me since three days,
even that these are my affairs and one could think that he would tell it to me
if there is news, no?’

‘When he has news to tell he will come, child, trust me,’ the
old lady assured her.

Melusine gritted her teeth. ‘It does not matter to me if he
comes or no, madame. Soon I shall make my
début
, that it will be known
that I am the real Melusine Charvill, and then I shall not require the services
any longer of this
imbecile
of a Gérard.’

‘It’s already known,’ said Mrs Sindlesham, ‘judging by the
number of callers we have had these two days.’

‘Yes, indeed,’ agreed Lucilla enthusiastically. ‘The whole
town is talking. And I, I am happy to say, am in the delightful position of
being in the know. I am sure I never enjoyed so much popularity in my life.’

The dimple that so fascinated Melusine peeped in her
great-aunt’s cheek. ‘So yours is the rattling tongue, is it, young madam?’

‘I should say so. I have held people spellbound—in
confidence, so that we may be sure of its spreading like wildfire—with an
account of all Melusine’s activities, and—’

Horror filled Melusine and she jumped up. ‘Lucy, do not say
that you have told everyone all that I have done?’

‘Well, yes, but—’

Consternation filled Melusine’s breast. ‘But you are
idiot
.
This is not the conduct of a
jeune demoiselle
. This I know, for the Valades
have taught me so, and the nuns also. How will I get an Englishman to wed me if
they know that I behave not at all
comme il faut
?’

‘Perhaps the Englishman in question will not care,’ suggested
Prudence, with a twinkle in her eye for which Melusine was quite unable to
account.

‘Not care? For this he must be an Englishman
tout à fait
sympathique
, and—and I know only...’

Melusine’s voice petered out. Fearful that she had given
herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. Despair engulfed her at the
horrid remembrance that the one particular Englishman she knew to be
sympathique
did not at all wish to marry her.

Lucy’s bright tones pursued her. ‘Never fear, my love. I’ve
made no mention of guns and daggers or, indeed, any of the more exciting
aspects of the business.’

Melusine turned her head. ‘But you have told them that I have
been disguised, no? That I have broken into Remenham House, and—’

‘No, no, child, don’t be alarmed,’ said her great-aunt, her
tone soothing. ‘Why, you have heard yourself all that is being said. Have we
not received Lady Bicknacre just this morning? Not to mention the Comtesse de
St Erme.’

‘And was not she put out?’ demanded Miss Froxfield with a
tinkling laugh. ‘How she pouted, and tried to make out that she had been
imposed upon. As if it were she, and not Melusine, who had been hurt by the
imposters.’

‘In a way she had been,’ said Prudence. ‘She has constituted
herself leader of the
émigrés
here, and feels justifiably slighted by
having taken the pretend Valades under her wing.’

‘Lady Bicknacre too,’ said Lucilla, a delight in her voice
that grated on Melusine. ‘Both of them so wise after the event. The comtesse
always felt Madame Valade to be not of her class, of course. While Lady
Bicknacre had never trusted Valade. What a treat to see all the old tabbies
taken at fault for once!’

‘You are a dreadful child,’ scolded Mrs Sindlesham, with
which Melusine could not but agree, despite the dimple rioting in her
great-aunt’s cheek. ‘You see, Melusine, that none of our visitors were as
informed as they would wish to be. They know only that the Valades have
practised an imposture which affects all society, and some will think your
adventures excessively romantic.’

‘Pah! How can it be romantic? That is silly.’

‘People are silly. They cannot imagine the discomforts
involved, and they see only mystery in your fight to recover your lost heritage.
But the factor of overriding interest is that they have all met and approved
the said imposters. I dare say it will be chattered about for weeks.’

The idiocy of it all irritated Melusine. ‘I begin to ask
myself why it is that I wish to become of these people.’

‘We are not all of us so empty-headed, Melusine,’ pleaded
Miss Froxfield.

A rare moment of amusement lightened Melusine’s mood for a
moment. ‘You are extremely empty-headed, Lucy. So says your
capitaine
.’

Lucy giggled. ‘Hilary is a darling.’

‘This is what you say of him? Me, I find he is growling all
the time like a dog.’

As if to bear her out, the door opened at this precise moment
to admit Saling, who barely announced Captain Roding before the man himself
strode into the room.

His eyes swept the company, and fell upon Melusine with a
glare.

‘Ha! Just the person I want. Where the devil have you hidden
all those weapons? Don’t tell me you’ve got ’em with you.’

Annoyance sent Melusine leaping to her feet. ‘Certainly I
have them with me. But what affair is this of yours?’

But Captain Roding was not attending. Instead, he was bowing
to her great-aunt. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the
patience of a saint.’


Eh bien
, you are not a saint,’ Melusine snapped.

To her chagrin, he ignored her, and turned a venomous eye on
his betrothed. ‘And what the devil do you mean by demanding that I wait on you
here? D’you think I haven’t enough to do handling that caper-witted female’s
affairs, without dancing attendance on you?’

‘Don’t be cross,’ begged Lucilla, much to Melusine’s disgust.

She watched her friend rise and go towards her affianced
husband, a look of mischief in her face.

‘Do you think I could bear to be without you for a moment
longer? I am quite jealous of Melusine taking up all your attention.’

It was immediately evident that Lucilla Froxfield was not as
silly as Melusine had thought, for the face of her captain immediately changed
and he took her hands, a look on his face that caused Melusine an instant pang.
Would that a certain major might cast upon her such a look.

‘Didn’t mean it, love. Know that, don’t you?’

‘Of course I know it,’ Lucy told him, and Melusine read the
whisper in her mouth of those precious words, ‘I love you.’

Melusine watched with a tightness in her chest as Captain
Roding kept hold of Lucy’s hand, even as he turned back to Prudence.

‘Truth is, it’s Gerald who’s put me in the devil’s own
temper, ma’am. Gone off, cool as you please, and left me to manage everything.’

‘Gone off?’ repeated Melusine, her wrongs rising up to tear
into her chest. ‘To where has he gone off?’

‘No use asking me,’ shrugged the captain. ‘That fellow of
yours is a deal better, by the by. Should be home soon.’

The shift threw Melusine’s attention off the errant major for
the moment. ‘Jacques? Oh, that is news of the very finest. You saw him? You
have been to Remenham House?’

‘Remenham House? I wish I’d been only to Remenham House. Feels
as if I’ve been dashing back and forth about the whole country, if you want to
know.’

‘But tell,’ demanded Melusine impatiently.

‘Yes, tell us everything at once,’ instructed Lucilla,
pushing him towards the sofa she had vacated, and obliging him to sit beside
her.

Mrs Sindlesham raised her brows. ‘Dear me. If you two are
examples of the modern miss, I don’t know what the world is coming to.’

Noting the twinkle in her great-aunt’s eye, Melusine forebore
to comment, grateful to Lucilla for adjuring Captain Roding to give an account
of himself. Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her
great-aunt’s chair.

‘Well,’ began Captain Roding, looking at Melusine, ‘you know
those nuns of yours took up Valade—I mean, Gosse—and put him to bed to mend his
wound, and I posted a guard outside his room so he couldn’t escape, for Gerald
told you all that. I went off to round up his wife. What the devil is her name,
now we know she isn’t you?’

‘Yolande,’ supplied Melusine. ‘She is a maid only, and I do
not believe she has married Emile.’

‘Had a certificate for it,’ argued Roding. ‘Signed by a
priest at Le Havre, so it must be true. But it was under false names, so I dare
say it ain’t valid. In any event, I brought her to the convent and we had her
locked up separately, and told ’em both they’d be taken into custody as soon as
Valade was fit to go.’

‘Gosse,’ corrected Lucilla. ‘He isn’t Valade, and the
Comtesse de St Erme is absolutely furious.’

‘Never mind the comtesse,’ adjured Prudence.

‘Yes, don’t interrupt me,’ said Captain Roding severely.

‘But you cannot expect that we will any of us remain
altogether quiet,’ objected Melusine. ‘And me—’

‘You, mademoiselle, are more trouble than you’re worth, and I’ll
thank you to—’

‘Hilary, don’t,’ said Lucy, and Melusine’s rising temper
cooled a little.

‘The major thinks she’s worth it,’ put in Prudence quietly.

Melusine’s heart jumped and she felt heat rising into her
cheeks. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding
gruff, even to her own ears.

‘I have not asked for this trouble from anyone. Always I have
said I will take care of myself, and I have done so.’

To her surprise, Captain Roding backtracked. ‘Didn’t mean to
say that. Only I’m so incensed with that crazy fool Gerald that—oh, well, never
mind.’

‘Get on, Hilary, do,’ begged Lucilla.

He frowned. ‘Where was I? Oh yes. Well, I was all for
dragging in Bow Street there and then, and getting the pair of those fraudsters
thrown in gaol. But Gerald wouldn’t hear of it. Made me fetch up Trodger and a
couple more men, and together we searched his luggage and got hold of every
single paper the man possessed. Gerald, meanwhile, was off hunting up these
lawyers, together with your son, ma’am—’ turning to Mrs Sindlesham ‘—and you
know the outcome of that. Fellows are drawing up the necessary papers, but gave
Gerald a letter of authorisation for you, mademoiselle, to use in the interim.’

‘But where then is Gosse?’ demanded Melusine. ‘Do not tell me
he has escaped.’

‘I’m coming to that. Gerald went through all the papers in
front of Gosse and that woman of his, one by one. His French is better than
mine, so he knew exactly what he was handling. Gather he found stuff belonging
to the real Valade, and the vicomte, as well as your own letter. He kept that,
but the rest...’

He paused, but Melusine caught the inference.

‘He destroyed the papers?’

‘That’s right,’ Roding said, throwing her a glance of
frowning surprise, as if he had not rated her intelligence so high. ‘Burned
them, one by one, right before that fellow’s eyes. Gosse cursed him finely, of
course, but there was nothing he could do. Our men had him fast, held down in a
chair.’


Bon
,’ exclaimed Melusine, triumph soaring. ‘I find
this was excessively clever of Gérard.’

‘Then what?’ demanded Lucilla in a hushed tone.

Hilary threw up his eyes. ‘Then he went stark staring crazy,
if you ask me. Gave me a purse, and told me to take both of ’em up to Harwich
and put them on a packet for Holland.’

‘He let them go?’ asked Miss Froxfield incredulously.

Melusine was silent, revolving this outcome in her mind as
she stared at Roding, who was frowning at her in a puzzled way. But her
great-aunt was nodding, as if this was what she had expected. Lucilla broke
across Melusine’s thoughts.

‘Melusine, don’t sit there. Say something.’

‘Ain’t you in a rage?’ asked the captain. ‘Rather thought I’d
have to disarm you when you heard of it. That’s why I wanted your weapons. Looked
all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but
no sign of them.’

‘I fetched them with my clothes when the son of madame took
me to see Marthe,’ Melusine admitted. She drew a breath, and sighed it out. ‘I
am not in the least in a rage. On the contrary, I am altogether satisfied.’

The couple on the sofa stared at her blankly. Prudence
twinkled at them, and reached out to pat Melusine’s hand.

‘Well said, my dear. Now tell them why.’

Melusine shifted her shoulders. ‘As to Gérard, I do not know
why he does this.’ She closed her mind on the possibility of finding out, and
went on, ‘But me, I have been in a war, and I have won. Gosse would have killed
me, and perhaps in the fight I might kill him. But to make an arrest to be like
a revenge? No, a thousand times.’

‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed.

BOOK: Mademoiselle At Arms
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