The Missing Duchess (23 page)

'I'm sorry -' she began, and he cut her short.

'I had guessed already.'

'But how?'

'Some day, if ever we have the time, I'll tell you. But now, Your Highness, the truth, if you please. And all of it. Rest assured our lives may depend on it.'

She said sulkily, 'What else can I tell you, since you seem to know most of it? As Aunt Vicky's favourite god-daughter, I have a particularly privileged place. Anything I need, any help, she wrote to me, I had only to ask. I realise that the President -my husband -' She stopped and drew breath as if the word choked her. 'As he is trying to get rid of me, flight seemed the only way I could stay alive.'

'Had you some evidence of the President's intentions?’

'He tried to poison me,' she said, and went on hurriedly. 'Aunt Vicky could use her influence, I thought. As I told you, anything that relates to poor Uncle Albert - and we were third cousins’.

'My absence - or escape - had to be done secretly. I didn't want my family, who have suffered enough, to be held responsible. And as the President only visits me every four weeks or so, I felt I had enough time to make the visit and return without his knowledge.'

'Where did the Luck o' Lethie come into all this?' Faro asked, hastily banishing a suddenly vivid picture of 'Miss Fortescue' lying in his arms.

'I had some naive idea that it might restore our good fortune.' She sighed. 'All that I told you about its history is true. And had it been the original, then I would have been prepared to sell it to the American millionaire. I realise I behaved foolishly -'

'Impulsively - and in character,' Faro suggested, smiling.

'We had one person we could trust to make the arrangements. Roma's father, Miles Fortescue. He alerted the Lethies to the purpose of our journey -'

'So they knew who you were.'

She shook her head. 'Not at first. Had to tell them. A nuisance. That day you came on us at the Crusader's Tomb. I was trying to persuade them not to make matters more complicated.' Pausing, she smiled at him. 'They suspected everyone - including you.’

'Roma's father will be so relieved to know that she is safe. I have been terrified that something dreadful had happened to her. She was not at all well on the voyage, but she was determined to accompany me. Despite her doctor's orders.'

'She was ill?'

'Not exactly ill, but delicate. She suffered from a heart condition - brought about by a childhood attack of rheumatic fever. Despite her frail health, she must have made that incredible journey to Balmoral Castle, alone. And, on my behalf, arranged this meeting. I'll be grateful to her for the rest of my life.'

Without suggesting that the rest of her life might not be long, Faro had now before him the melancholy business of breaking the news that the real Miss Fortescue, far from being in Balmoral, had died of a heart attack on the night of the carriage accident. Sparing her the details, he said that with no knowledge of her identity, she had been buried in Edinburgh.

Amelie was deeply distressed. 'She was so afraid that I might be kidnapped or that somehow the President might have learned of our plan. She insisted we change clothes - and jewellery -everything by which I could be identified, on the ship. When I told her she was being ridiculous and overdramatising the situation, she just smiled and said: "Oh, they'll soon let me go when they find they've got the wrong one."'

She paused and then sobbed. 'And she's the one who is dead. Oh dear God, I can't bear it.'

Rather awkwardly, Faro put an arm about her shoulders. It was one thing comforting a lady-in-waiting, quite another offering comfort which might be misunderstood by a Grand Duchess.

'In an unknown grave. Oh no -' She wept at that. 'My poor Roma. When we get back, we must arrange a proper funeral -'

'Of course, of course we will.'

She dried her tears at last and raising her head, gave him a startled look. 'But then who - who is with the Queen?'

'No one, I'm afraid,' he said.

'What do you mean - no one?'

'The letter was a ruse to get you out of Edinburgh.'

'The Prime Minister -'

'A forgery. There isn't time to tell you, but I beg you, have no illusions, you were brought to this destination with me - for one purpose only. I think you know what that purpose is,' he added grimly. 'You're a brave woman, Your Highness.'

'If you've known - what was intended, then why did you come with me?' she asked softly.

'All part of my line of duty to protect a royal personage.'

'Is that all?' she asked softly, and in her eyes he saw reflected gratitude and something more than gratitude. Leaning over, he kissed her very gently. For a moment, she clung to him -'

'Hush!'

There was a sound outside.

A wisp of smoke curled under the door.

The nightmare had begun.

Faro knew that by opening the door he presented a ready target. But from the small windows it was impossible to see who might be waiting in the porch. The smell of smoke, however, painted a grim picture of their assailant's intentions.

Amelie grabbed his arm. 'Fire - they are setting fire to the house. Don't you understand? Do something, please - for God's sake.'

He heard the panic in her voice, remembered her story of a fire in a hotel which, perhaps, had been true after all.

She watched wide-eyed as Faro took a gun from his valise and opened the door an inch. Clouds of choking smoke billowed in.

Closing it hastily, he had seen enough to realise his worst fears. Their attacker had set fire to the rustic porch, which would soon spread to their door.

'Get water,' he said. Amelie fled to the kitchen, returning at last with a bucket.

'All I could find,' she gasped. 'Hidden away behind a rail of maids' uniforms. We're lucky to have running water.' And with rising panic in her voice: 'There is no back door. Did you know that?'

Faro didn't doubt that whoever waited outside also knew. Telling her to stay out of range, he opened the door and flung the water over blazing wood.

As the flames subsided, smoke gushed through and set them coughing. But there was worse than smoke now to contend with. Faro heard a sharp crack as a bullet hit the stone lintel of the door, narrowly missing him.

He fired at the moving shadow on the edge of the grass. The shadow jerked like a puppet. He heard an exclamation and realised he had hit his target.

Amelie peered over his shoulder. 'Well done. You managed it. We're safe.'

'Oh no, we're not. He wasn't alone. Listen.'

'Father - father -' The voice was Vince's. 'Come quickly.' A scream - and silence.

Amelie stared at him. 'That was Vince. You must go to him. He's been hurt. I'll be all right.'

Faro turned, handed her the gun. 'Can you use this?'

She smiled mockingly. 'I've been through a revolution. Of course I can use a gun - and anything else it takes to stay alive,' she added. 'Now go -'

Opening the door a fraction, he turned and said: 'Shoot to kill. Remember it's you they want, not me.'

'What about you - you're unarmed?'

'I can still use my fists. Don't worry about me.'

As he ran lightly across the grass, his main concern was for his stepson. It hadn't been Vince calling, of that he was sure. Although it sounded like his voice, the lad never called him anything but 'Stepfather'.

In the shrubbery he almost fell across a body. He thought at first it was Vince. It was Batey, shot in the shoulder and leaning against a tree. Realising he had hit his target but not fatally, Faro snatched up his gun and, followed by Batey's curses, ran swiftly back towards the house.

The sudden dimness of the interior blinded him. With relief he saw Vince stagger forward apparently unharmed. But Vince was not alone. From the shadows behind him, a voice -

'You have a choice, Jeremy. Your stepson or Her Highness.'

The smiling face was that of his cousin, Leslie Faro Godwin.

But where was Amelie?

Chapter 21

Although all the evidence had indicated the assassin's identity, Faro's heart had resolutely refused to accept what his head knew to be true. To the bitter end, he hoped that some miracle would prove his growing suspicions regarding his cousin to be false.

He watched in a daze of unbelief, Vince struggling. 'Damn you, Godwin. Damn you.'

But Leslie held him in an iron grip. 'Throw down your gun, Jeremy. You won't be needing that.' As Faro put the gun on the table, Leslie pointed to a chair. 'And do sit down, if you please. On your feet, you make me feel nervous -'

Faro did as he was told and playing for time he asked: 'Why? Just tell me why?'

Leslie laughed. 'Can't you guess? Money, my dear fellow, always money. Lost heavily in the casino in Luxoria, thrown into jail. Then the President's highly efficient intelligence service hinted that all would be forgiven if I obliged them - in a certain manner. There's no need to look like that. It isn't the first time.' He paused, then added slowly: 'You should know that by now.'

Allowing that information to sink in, he continued: 'If you want to believe in my reputation, then accept that it is only a very small step from killing a man you don't know or hate on a battlefield, risking your life for nothing but glory, to killing a man - or a woman -' he emphasised grimly, 'who is someone else's deadly foe. And being handsomely paid for your trouble.

'While I was at the planning stage, I was housed here as a guest at one of Sir Piers's shooting parties. I saw the unique and admirable possibilities the dower house presented with the family abroad.

'Incidentally, Amelie was followed all the way from Luxoria and Batey rode out to meet them when they landed at North Berwick. He managed to arrange the accident despite that cursed storm. Amelie died (or so we believed) most obligingly, of fright. Not a hand laid on her.

'And all the time while I was at the regimental dinner being reunited with my cousin Inspector Faro, Batey - with the help of the Hogans and Sandy Dunnock - arranged for the body of Her Highness, with nothing to identify her, to be found in the Wizard's House. So that there could be no connection, the drowned coachman was to be hidden in Mrs Dunnock's closet - for a day or two. Mrs Dunnock got upset after that, complained that the smell was upsetting them.

'But where was Miss Fortescue? That worried me, but Batey assured me he'd seen her roll down into the water. Anyway, I was overcome with curiosity. I had to be certain my mission was successful before claiming my bounty. But when I followed you into the Wizard's House, I realised we had got the wrong woman. Same colouring, age and so forth. Batey's fault, but understandable in the dark with a storm raging. However, as far as we were concerned they were all dead, with two of the three bodies accounted for.'

He stopped and, smiling, pointed at Faro. 'And then you, Jeremy, most obligingly, told me Miss Fortescue was at Lethie Castle. I knew I had to work fast after that. Damned nuisance.' The smile was replaced by a scowl.

'So Batey broke into Wrightson's study and stole the headed notepaper from Holyrood -'

Leslie grinned, his charming self once more. 'He did. Wrightson had bragged about his drawer of royal mementoes, that evening before you arrived. Another of Batey's modest accomplishments, which alas has put him behind bars in the past, is being a damned good forger. I hope he doesn't die out there. You'll be to blame. I had to leave him, the urgent need for more important quarry.'

As if remembering, he held the gun at Vince's head. 'And what have you done with Her Highness? I shall count to three and if she doesn't appear, then you can say goodbye to Vince. One - two -'

'Put down your gun.' A bespectacled uniformed maid in large white cap and apron stood in the doorway leading from the kitchen, holding Faro's gun. The voice with its unmistakable note of authority was Amelie's.

Unperturbed, Leslie laughed. 'Ah, I'm slipping. A terrified maid busy at the kitchen sink, wrestling with steaming pans. Who ever would have suspected that Her Highness would stoop so low -'

'I said, put down your gun.'

Leslie shook his head. Shielded by Vince's body, he knew he had won. Too late, madam. Hand it to me - or Vince will die.'

Amelie looked hard at Faro and held out the gun at an angle so that Leslie had to turn slightly towards her. The momentary diversion of his attention was enough. Leslie's feet were on the bearskin rug. Knowing what was at stake if he failed, in one swift movement, Faro slid the chair along the polished floor. Swooping down, he grabbed the rug - and tugged.

'What the devil -'

Leslie, holding Vince as shield, was thrown off balance. Vince fell hard against him and twisting round, tried to seize the gun. As they struggled, it slithered across the floor and they both cannoned into Amelie, who was also knocked off her feet, her gun spinning towards Faro.

Seizing it, his finger on the trigger he levelled it at Leslie. But he knew that whatever the cost, he could not kill his cousin like this, at close range.

And Leslie read his mind. Smiling, he bowed slightly. 'I am unarmed, as you see.' Turning, he leaped through the open door. Faro followed him shouting: 'Come on, Vince -'