The Riddle of the Deplorable Dandy (16 page)

“How could I ask you to help me again, when I knew your father would be enraged if you agreed? And poor Nicholas cannot help, because he is recovering from being attacked by Mohocks. Mr. Valerian needed a lady to assist his aunt on a—a matter of personal business, and I needed a gentleman to help poor Vance, so we—we reached an understanding. I know you cannot like it, dear Joel, and that my reputation is very likely ruined, but—truly, Mr. Valerian is neither a villain nor a traitor!”

“Anyone who gives aid to an enemy of the King is a traitor,” said Skye inexorably.

“I am not an enemy of the King,” declared Elspeth, incensed, “no more is Vance!”

“But I am!” The individual Elspeth knew as Mrs. Newell stood and took off her elegant wig to reveal close-cropped greying hair. With an imperious gesture she commanded in a cultured but decidedly masculine voice, “Be still, Gervaise! I shall make my own apologies, if you please!”

Valerian, who had come to his feet also and attempted to intervene, gave a resigned shrug and was silent.

Gazing from one to the other, bewildered, Elspeth stammered, “
You
—are a traitor, ma'am—er, sir?”

“I am also Sir Simon Valerian.” With a weary sigh, the erstwhile ‘Mrs. Newell' sat down again.

“Who harbours a fondness for Jacobites,” grunted Skye.

Valerian snarled, “Who has a generous heart and a willingness to risk his own life so as to help anyone hunted to a cruel death!”

“They took arms 'gainst their country!” said Skye hotly.

The little cat, which had taken refuge somewhere, now jumped onto the bunk again and made itself comfortable on Sir Simon's lap. Stroking it fondly, he argued, “They fought bravely for a cause they believed best for England, and when they were defeated they had a right to be treated as honourable men, instead of which they were persecuted and slaughtered like animals!”

Valerian said, “My sire's heinous crime was that he sought nothing more evil than to help them, and—”

“And was so foolish as to get in the way of a musket ball,” interposed Sir Simon with a wry smile. “As a result of which my very faithful and gallant son has struggled for three years to keep me hidden, win me back to health and bring me safely to France.”

Trying to take it all in, Elspeth said, “But—but everyone believes you and Mr. Valerian are hopelessly estranged.”

“A clever ruse,” muttered Skye. “Concocted to screen Gervaise Valerian's efforts to protect his father.”

Her eyes glowing, Elspeth said, “Oh, my! Well, I think it splendid! So there were no jewels at all, Sir Simon?”

“No jewels, child,” he admitted. “My son has a ready imagination. And he strives to see me reunited with his mother, who awaits us in Italy. I'm sorry we had to lie to you, but Gervaise thought that for your own sake the less you knew the better.”

Elspeth nodded. “I quite understand, and I am so glad he has stood by you. I'll keep my word and help in any way possible, but—”

“Devil you will!” interrupted Skye angrily. “D'you not realize that by taking part in this crazy scheme you may well be putting your pretty head on the block alongside theirs?”

It was a fearsome truth and Elspeth was suddenly very cold. Her voice trembled slightly when she said, “Mr. Valerian has promised to help free Vance. The least I can do in return is to keep my word to them.” Turning to Sir Simon, she added, “But you must not kill Joel, sir.”

Valerian said impatiently, “It's his life or ours, and your precious brother's, to boot! Have some sense, do!”

Elspeth smiled into Skye's strained and bruised face. “You will not betray us, will you, my dear friend?”

Skye knew that resolute tilt to her chin and his heart sank, but he did not answer.

Herbert, who had said very little during this intense discussion, now pointed out quietly, “He is a serving officer, Miss Elspeth. He has no choice.”

Elspeth looked searchingly at the unhappy Skye. “Joel…? I beg you. Surely, you could just look the other way? Does your Commanding Officer know you suspect us?”

Valerian interposed, “Who is your CO, by the way?”

“A friend of yours, I believe. Joshua Swift.”

Father and son exchanged grim glances.

“Well, that throws the fox in with the hens,” muttered Sir Simon.

Gervaise said slowly, “Swift is Military Intelligence. You're Navy. Temporary assignment?”

Skye nodded.

“With your future resting on success, I'll wager,” said Sir Simon.

“And your father watching you like a hawk.” Elspeth sighed. “Poor Joel. Herbert's right—you have no choice. But if we—you gentlemen—were to tie him up and lock him in—in the hold or somewhere, he could not be blamed.”

“Were he under my command I'd blame him,” grunted Valerian. “Besides, he'd break free and be after us again! We're far from safe yet, Miss Elspeth.”

Herbert said, “Perhaps the Lieutenant can offer a solution.”

For a moment while they all watched him, Skye was silent, looking down, his lips set into a thin, uncompromising line. He raised his eyes then and gazed at Elspeth. How anxious she was, poor girl, how dear and desirable and foolish. He loved her so very much and he knew how she adored her brother … With a sigh that was something of a groan, he said, “If you will allow me to take you back to England, I'll give my word to say nought to the authorities that would jeopardize Sir Simon, or hinder his son's attempt to help Vance. That's the best I can offer, Elspeth.”

“And it's not good enough,” grated Valerian.

Deeply moved, Elspeth said, “'Twould mean the ruin of your career, Joel.”

“And the breaking of your oath to serve your country,” murmured Sir Simon.

Skye reached out and took Elspeth's hand. “My dearest girl—you know how I feel where you are concerned. How I have always felt. You love Vance, but he's a grown man, and must have understood the chances he took when he worked for La Pompadour. He'd not thank me if I allowed you to run yourself into danger. You've taken too many chances already in this forlorn venture. You've tried, Ella. Be done now, and come home with me, I beg you!”

Tears dimmed Elspeth's eyes. She knew how hard he had fought to rise in his chosen career and how much it meant to him. She said huskily, “It is so very dear of you to make such an offer, but—I cannot, Joel. Mr. Valerian really needs me to go with them. Besides, I gave my word!”

“No!” Skye pulled Elspeth aside and faced Valerian, demanding fiercely, “Do you want her to die? Release her of her promise, you conscienceless care-for-nobody!”

Valerian drawled, “Of course I don't want Miss Clayton to die. To the contrary, I shall do all in my power to prevent such a disaster. But
I
care for my father, the
lady
cares for her brother, and forlorn or not, we are partners in this endeavour. 'Twould appear you are the one who puts us all in jeopardy.”

Sir Simon said gravely, “Even so, Gervaise, the Lieutenant is correct. Miss Clayton has taken great risks to assist us and should not be held to a promise that will further endanger her.”

With the pistol still steadily aimed, Valerian argued, “Without her help it will be more risky to smuggle you ashore, sir. Or smuggle her silly brother out of France! If she chooses to break her given word, however, I'll accept that, and we'll manage somehow. If not—Skye must be dealt with. Make up your mind, ma'am.”

Elspeth wrung her hands distractedly. “What a dreadful choice you give me! My beloved brother—or my dear friend!” She reached out to Sir Simon. “Sir—please! I cannot abandon Vance to a cruel death! I cannot! If Mr. Valerian will but promise not to murder Joel—”

Sir Simon looked at his son steadily.

Valerian's eyes fell. “Oh, very well,” he growled. “I hope we may not all pay a bitter price! Herbert, find something to tie and gag this military opportunist, and we'll stow him away somewhere!”

After a brief and subdued consultation, Herbert and Sir Simon began to tear a sheet into strips.

Dabbing a handkerchief at her eyes, Elspeth said a choked, “Thank you, Mr. Valerian! I swear I'll do all in my power to help. Joel, dear—forgive me, but—”

Very white, Skye said harshly, “How can I forgive? Not that your friends threaten me, but that your dear life is endangered by their probably ill-conceived schemes. Valerian—at least tell me you
do
have a plan to rescue Vance Clayton.”

Valerian said, “We know where he's being held and we've been promised help along the way. To what extent I cannot say.”

Skye groaned, “Is that all? My dear God! You'll walk into a hornet's nest and drag this precious lady with you!”

Sir Simon, who was looking increasingly troubled, said, “Gervaise, I am so very grateful for all your care of me, but—”

Valerian intervened, “I know, sir. But 'tis the lady's brother. The decision must be her own.”

Skye drew a despairing hand across his eyes, then drew his shoulders back, took a deep breath and said, “Never mind about your blasted makeshift rope. I can't leave Miss Clayton in such careless hands. I shall have to go with you.”

They all stared at him speechlessly.

Then, “You'll—what?” said Valerian.

“I mean what I say. I'm coming with you, if only to protect Miss Clayton.”

Valerian smiled cynically. “And to report us to the authorities as soon as we land, no doubt! A real feather in your cap that would be, eh, Skye?”

“Joel never would do such a thing!” said Elspeth firmly. “I've known him most of my life. His word is his bond.”

Sir Simon observed, “I think we do not have the Lieutenant's word as yet, Gervaise.”

“Then you have it now,” said Skye resolutely. “I will help in whatever way I am able. I'll not betray any of you. I swear it.”

Elspeth gave a smothered sob and threw her arms around his neck.

Skye hugged her tight and over her curls his steady gaze challenged Valerian's scowl.

“Very well,” said Sir Simon. “I accept, unless you object, dear boy.”

Gervaise grunted and lowered the pistol. “I do object. But I believe he'll honour his word.” With a wry grin he added, “Whatever else, it saves us the bother of doing away with the curst nuisance.”

*   *   *

“But I am sure 'twas Sir Brian,” said Elspeth, peering eagerly at the crowded quay below them.

Valerian muttered, “Do try to restrain your exuberance,
Nurse Cotton.
We have no desire to attract attention and if you don't attend to where you're going you'll wheel your patient into the sea!”

“Yes. I'm sorry.” Elspeth straightened the Bath chair and sent a guilty glance at “Mrs. Newell.”

The wind had eased at last, but the entrance to the estuary was clearly a difficult one. Skye and Valerian had exchanged low-voiced remarks about pilots and unusual tides and “basins” and then been so cheerful that Elspeth guessed they were trying not to alarm her. Despite their obvious concern, however, and as a result of what Valerian had said was some very skilled navigation, the
Sea Lassie
had been manoeuvred safely into port at half-past three o'clock. Elspeth was surprised by the number of vessels riding at anchor or tied up at the quay. Clearly, Le Havre was a much busier port than she'd anticipated. Confirming this, there had ensued an immediate and increasingly confused welter of howled orders, darting sailors, passengers hurrying to and fro and making their way to join those waiting at the rail for the gangplank to be lowered. On the quay people who had come to meet disembarking family members or friends mingled with stevedores and hopeful vendors of pastries, apples, sweets and assorted items few people were likely to need, all shouting their wares at the tops of their lungs. It was among this bevy of humanity that Elspeth had thought to catch sight of her uncle.

They made their way slowly along the deck, Skye in the lead as if travelling alone. Behind him, Herbert carried two valises. Freda, a bandbox in one hand and a dressing case in the other, walked close beside the Bath chair in which “Mrs. Newell” was settled under a warm rug with Pixie curled up on her lap. Elspeth pushed the chair, and Valerian brought up the rear followed by a husky cabin boy laden with the rest of their luggage.

As they neared the gangplank Skye dropped back. Without appearing to address Valerian, he said softly, “More than a customary collection of military down there, have you noticed?”

“I have. Ours.”

“And theirs, besides the occasional
garde-cote.
”

Elspeth's heart gave its familiar leap into her throat. She gasped, “Oh, my heavens! Coast Guard?”

Valerian nodded. “I'm glad you speak French, Nurse. You'll need it. They appear to be looking for someone. Have a care, Aunt Geraldine.”

Elspeth's nerves tightened.

Sir Simon raised an acknowledging hand.

“Oh, I
knew
we should have sailed with free traders,” moaned Elspeth.

Valerian growled, “In which case we'd likely have been apprehended long since!”

Edging forward once more Skye drew level with Elspeth and urged, “It's not too late for you to change your mind, dear soul. I can arrange—”

“You are very good,” she said with a dismissing gesture, “but—I cannot. Joel, I saw Sir Brian down there on the quay just now. I'm sure of it!”

“Your uncle? Did you, by Jove! Was he on the packet, then? Or might he have come to meet you?”

“He didn't know I was sailing. Nobody did. But he and Conrad lived abroad for years. Perhaps he had to return to France on some matter of business. If you should see him, do please tell me.”

Skye said hesitantly. “I cannot think he would approve of this escapade. He might try to put a stop to it. Likely he could, you know.”