Mademoiselle At Arms (7 page)

A sweep of his arm indicated the array of military strength
on the benches, every eye of which was trained on the little scene being
enacted before them.

The lady looked them over in silence, and then pouting lips
trembled, dark eyelashes fluttered, and in a broken voice, she pleaded, ‘Honoured
messieurs
, you will not allow this—this pig, to be thus cruel? He cannot
arrest me. I have done n-nothing.’

The pathetic sob which accompanied the last word had a signal
effect on two of the company at least. Glancing at each other, they rose from
their seats and ventured to address the captain.

‘Um—begging your pardon, sir, but—um—what was you meaning to
arrest the young lady for?’

‘Trespassing, theft, and suspicion of spying,’ announced
Roding fluently.

‘Woof!’ uttered Trodger, gazing at the lady in some awe.

‘Caught in the act by myself and Major Gerald Alderley only
last week.’

The mention of Alderley’s name, as Roding had confidently
expected, caused the soldiers’ eyes to veer across to the young lady again,
this time with a good deal less sympathy, and much more uncertainty. There was
a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to
intervene again.

Grimly Hilary smiled to himself at the effect of Gerald’s
name. In military circles, highly exaggerated tales of Major Alderley’s
derring-do were bruited from lip to lip and passed on to raw recruits to
strengthen morale.

The young lady saw the change, and almost snorted. ‘Very
well, arrest me. But if you mean to take me to this Gérard, I shall know what
to say to him.’

‘Sir!’ called Trodger, as the captain began to lead the young
lady off. ‘Shall we abandon the guard, then, sir?’

‘Certainly not.’

‘But if she’s going to gaol—’

‘Just keep watch, like you’ve been told,’ Roding said
severely, turning to glare at his sergeant. ‘The major will tell you when to
stop.’

‘Your major will tell you nothing at all,’ put in the young
lady acidly, ‘because certainly I am going to kill him.’

‘You ain’t never!’

‘Back to your post, Trodger,’ ordered the harassed captain. ‘As
for you—’

‘Do not address me. You are without sense and not
sympathique
in the least. And when I have finished killing your major, I shall also kill you.’

The listening soldiers began to snigger behind their hands. His
face warm, Captain Roding glared them into silence, and firmly marched his
captive off down Piccadilly, heading for Stratton Street where the town house
of the Alderley family was situated.

‘You’re the most troublesome wretch I’ve ever encountered,’
he told her bitterly. ‘What Gerald wants with you has me beat.’

He received a glare from his captive. ‘You are rude, and
stupide
,
and altogether a person with whom I do not wish to speak. So now I will say
nothing more to you, and you will please to say nothing more to me, for I do
not reply.’

It was thus in stony silence that the pair traversed the
short distance to Stratton Street, where Roding knocked on the major’s door and
entered a pleasant wood-panelled hall, with his prisoner firmly in tow.

‘Your master in?’ he demanded of the astonished footman,
removing his cockaded hat and handing it over.

‘In the bookroom, sir,’ answered the man, his eyes round as
they took in the furious beauty at the visitor’s side.

‘Good. I’ll announce myself.’

The footman did not object, but it was plain he felt he was
neglecting his duty, for he emitted an admonitory cough, causing the captain to
pause in his way to the library across the hall.

‘What is it?’

‘Er—shouldn’t I tell—I mean, the young lady, sir—’

‘You can leave the young lady to me.’

‘What young lady?’ demanded a voice from the back of the hall.
‘Don’t tell me you’ve found her!’

‘Ah, Gérard,’ uttered the girl in a gratified tone as Major Alderley
walked through into the light. ‘You will please to tell this—this
idiot
to release me.’

‘Of course he will release you,’ Gerald said at once,
concealing his delighted satisfaction at this unexpected piece of good fortune.
‘I’m only surprised you have not released yourself. No pistols, no daggers
today?’

‘Would you have me show a pistol with so many soldiers? I am
not a fool. And you have stolen my dagger.’

‘Had the advantage of her this time,’ Roding put in before Gerald
could respond. He let go of the girl’s arm. ‘Caught her sneaking after that
Valade fellow. Happened to be at the Chariot, you know, with Trodger, and it’s
review day.’

‘Ah, the matter begins to come clear,’ Gerald said. ‘The
place was full of barbers and military men.’

‘Exactly so. And she—’

‘She!’ interrupted the young lady crossly.                     

‘Yes, very rude,’ agreed the major. ‘Hilary, you must stop referring
to mademoiselle as “she”. But we cannot discuss this here.’ He bowed and
indicated the open door at the back of the hall. ‘Mademoiselle.’

Gerald was relieved to find the girl did not attempt to run
away, but meekly allowed him to usher her into the spacious and comfortable
library which was his habitual haunt when at home. This lapse was possibly due
to her apparent determination to make full protest of Hilary’s conduct.

‘All these soldiers,’ she complained, adding with a sweep of
one arm at the major’s dress, ‘all of them in red as you. And this
idiot
,
he has threatened to arrest me and make them take me to prison. What would you?
I cannot fight them all.’

‘No, of course you could not,’ Gerald soothed. ‘Monstrously
unfair of you, Hilary.’

‘Unfair!’ echoed his junior.

‘And this is not all,’ went on the lady, evidently determined
to disclose all her wrongs. ‘When I thought to make them
sympathique
for
me, with a little tear, you understand, and some tricks
feminine
of this
kind—’

‘Feminine tricks, too?’ cut in Gerald admiringly, controlling
a quivering lip. ‘Very useful, of course.’

‘Useful certainly. But he tells them that I am a spy. One cannot
expect that soldiers can be
sympathique
to one they believe may be a
French spy. That is not reasonable.’

‘A very low stratagem, Hilary,’ Gerald said, turning on his captain
with mock severity. ‘How could you? No wonder mademoiselle is angry with you.’

‘
What
?’

Roding’s glare tried Gerald’s control severely, but he
pursued his theme unheeding. ‘I am extremely displeased. It is no fault of your
own that you are not at this moment standing there with your head blown off.’

Mademoiselle, who had been nodding in agreement at Roding
during the first part of this speech, abruptly turned to face Gerald again.

‘
Parbleu
,’ she uttered indignantly. ‘You
imbecile
.
You make of me once more a game?
Eh bien
, I have told your friend that I
will kill you, and if you will give me my dagger this minute, I shall do so at
once.’

‘But what have I done?’ protested Gerald innocently. ‘I’m on
your side.’

‘You are not on my side at all, and it will be better that,
instead of saying such things to him, you would say them to yourself.’

Gerald opened his eyes at her. ‘You mean I should give myself
a dressing-down? Very well.’ He strode to the fireplace behind the
leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an
admonitory finger in his own face. ‘Gerald Alderley, I don’t know what you
deserve. It will serve you out if I give her dagger back to mademoiselle, so
that she can plunge it right into your chest.’

To his intense satisfaction, mademoiselle burst into laughter.
‘I have a very good mind to do so,
imbecile
.’

Gerald turned and came back to her. ‘That’s better. Come now,
I am very glad to see you again so soon, mademoiselle whatever-your-name-is. We
have a great deal to discuss, you and I.’

A wary look came over her face, and Roding intervened. ‘You
won’t get a thing out of her. Not if I read her aright.’

‘Perhaps you don’t, Hilary,’ Gerald said mildly, smiling at
the young lady and indicating one of the wide window seats. ‘Sit down, won’t
you?’ He crossed back to Roding and said low-voiced. ‘A word, if you please, my
friend.’

They moved to the door, while the lady shrugged, and then
seated herself, glancing from the window into the street below, and then
turning again to watch them in their huddle at the other side of the library.

‘What is it?’ asked Roding. ‘What do you mean to do with her?’

‘Just keep her talking, that’s all,’ Gerald said quickly. ‘Long
enough for you to see Frith for me.’

‘Your groom? What for?’

‘Get him to wait outside. Sooner or later she’s going to run
away again, and I want Frith to follow her and find out where she’s living.’

Roding gave him a look of respect. ‘For once, you’re talking
like a sensible man. I’ll do it. Seems you were right about Valade. She was
definitely following him. Mark you, she wasn’t the only one. There was a young
lad ahead of her. Footman or some such.’

‘Indeed? Interesting.’

‘Ain’t it? Want me to give you some time with her? Not that I
think she’ll tell you anything.’

‘Yes, she will. But probably not the truth.’

Roding gave a bark of derisive laughter and left the room. Gerald
crossed back to the window.

‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine,
perhaps?’

‘Nothing,
merci
, I do not remain,’ she answered,
although she did not rise. Under the plumed hat, her eye kindled. ‘And I do not
know why you are so polite, when you have been bad to me last night, and have
taken my dagger.’

‘You were quite as bad to me as I was to you,’ Gerald
protested mildly, sitting down beside her. ‘As for your dagger—’

She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give
her the weapon. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit
fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of
day from the window at their back.

‘Lord in heaven, did I do that?’ exclaimed Gerald
remorsefully. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched
the maltreated skin. She hissed in a breath and his eyes met hers. ‘It must be
painful. I’m sorry. Forgive me.’

Her lips parted, but she did not speak. Only sat, staring at
him, a puzzled look in her face. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised
that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had
on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his.

‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting
her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little.

‘
R-rien
. It—it is nothing,’ she said, although with a
tremor in her voice.

‘On the contrary,’ Gerald argued, frowning. ‘But if you must
fight so furiously, I don’t see how I can promise not to do it again.’

At that, a flush drenched her cheeks and she snatched her
hand away. ‘I will fight to the death, if it needs.’

A faint smile crossed Gerald’s lips. ‘I am sure you will. My
death, probably.’

‘This,
monsieur le major
, is entirely your own affair,’
said the lady, haughty again. ‘Do not mix yourself in mine, and perhaps you
will not die.’

‘Yes, but I’m afraid I am far too interested to stop mixing
myself in your affairs,’ Gerald said ruefully. ‘I’m determined to find out all
about you, mademoiselle. If I am to die in the attempt, then so be it.’

‘
Dieu du ciel
,’ burst from mademoiselle as she jumped
up. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—
no one
?’

‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. ‘Perhaps I
could indeed rescue you if only you would confide in me.’

The girl shook her head violently, setting the feathers on
her hat bobbing. ‘It is not possible.’

‘That we shall see. Why were you following Valade?’

She shrugged and turned away, moving as if to seek escape
among the bookshelves all about one corner of the room. ‘I do not know of whom
you speak. As to following, there was no one.’

‘Don’t be a little fool,’ Gerald snapped irritably.

‘It is you who is the fool,’ she threw at him, whipping round
again. ‘I have said that I will tell you nothing of this
soi-disant
Valade.’

Gerald seized on this. ‘
Soi-disant
? Then he is not
Valade?’

‘How can I know?’ she countered crossly. ‘I do not know him.’

‘I am not the imbecile you take me for,’ Gerald said with
dangerous calm. ‘If you will not tell me about Valade, so be it. What of
madame, his wife?’

‘You know more of her than me,’ the girl said with a look of
scorn. ‘His wife? Pah!’