Vintage Love (26 page)

The wagon rumbled on for what seemed an endless time. Every so often she could hear voices from the driver’s seat, but she was unable to make out what was being said. Her wrists and ankles were paining from the tight bonds around them, and it hurt her to move even a little. This pain was magnified by the jostling of the wagon. Each time they went over a rough spot, she was agonized.

She lapsed into a kind of semiconsciousness, and then she was aware of the wagon halting. Rough voices conversing in Italian seemed to be all around her. The back of the wagon was opened, and she was dragged out by cruel and thoughtless hands. She whimpered with pain!

One of the men lifted her up and carried her like a sack over his shoulder. He walked a short distance and then opened a door and took her into a room lit by a candle. There was a kind of couch in one corner of it, and he threw her down roughly on the couch.

She was faceup and could see his unshaven, coarse face. He wore peasant’s clothing, but he had a belt around his waist with a dagger in it.

His smile was mocking as he said, “Not what you are used to, signorina?”

Betsy twisted a little, and the bonds pained her more. She rolled her eyes to express her pain, but she received no hint of sympathy from the man.

He told her, “General Von Ryn has been waiting for you!”

The name of General Von Ryn meant nothing to her, but she assumed he must be one of Valmy’s agents. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the man had vanished. In his place there stood in the center of the room an old heavy-faced man with bushy gray eyebrows, shrewd penetrating brown eyes, and a missing left arm. He wore a shabby dark suit. The sleeve on the left was pinned to the front of his jacket in a neat fashion.

She stared up at the imposing figure, and it at once struck her that he was a man of some consideration. His long, weathered face showed character, and there was now concern reflected on it as he studied her condition.

“What have they done to you?” he asked irritably as he came forward to the couch.

Betsy looked up at him with pleading eyes and prayed that he might take some pity on her. The overland journey had been rough, and she was in great pain from the ties binding her.

With a deftness of long practice he reached into his breeches pocket, produced a penknife, and flicked it open. He did all this with surprising speed in view of his having only a single hand. Grumbling to himself, he bent over her and released her ankles, then her wrists. And finally he cut away the filthy gag which had bound her mouth.

He closed the knife and put it back in his pocket, saying, “That should give you some relief.”

She managed to speak hoarsely and said, “Thank you!”

“Not at all,” he said. “You should not have been treated in that fashion. Move slowly and the circulation will gradually come back to your feet and hands.”

“Numb!” she said, trying to move her fingers, and then she raised herself up a little in an attempt to massage one ankle. Her hand was like a piece of ice and refused to function as it should.

“Don’t try to hurry it,” the old man warned her. “I’m a doctor. I understand these things. And don’t panic! You will be all right. The numbness is only temporary.”

“A long, terrible journey,” she said.

“I’m sure of that,” the old doctor agreed. “Let me pour you a glass of water.” And he went to the table where a pitcher of water and some glasses had been set out. He poured a glass of the precious liquid for her and brought it over. “Let me touch it to your lips. Your hand may not be alive enough to trust yet.”

“Thank you,” she said again, more clearly this time. And she eagerly drank from the glass which he touched to her parched lips. The water at once revived her. She felt better and more able to grapple with her situation.

He stood with the half-emptied glass in his hand. “You can finish it later. Better not to drink too much at once.”

She nodded, and now she was able to work her fingers, and her feet had some feeling in them. She asked him, “Where am I, and why have I been brought here?”

The doctor’s lined face showed a wary look. “I can only tell you a little. You are in a small fishing village on the Adriatic Sea.”

“Why was I kidnapped and brought here?”

“You know as well as I do. You are a secret agent operating out of London under the direction of Felix Black.”

She stared up at him and said, “And you are one of the Valmy camp.”

“So none of this should be a mystery to you, we are on opposing sides it seems.”

She stood up with an effort and began to move about a little before his watchful gaze. She said, “What is to happen to me?”

“I’m not sure,” the old doctor said. “Probably you will be taken to Valmy. I understand he is interested in you because you were a close friend of the emperor.”

She glanced at him with her eyes flashing anger. “Friend enough to warn him away from Valmy and his schemes.”

“I cannot argue that with you. I’m glad to see you are recovering from your bondage. We shall try to save you from further indignities.”

“You have been kind,” she admitted.

“Not at all,” he said, though he looked pleased. “My name is Major Lacoste. I spent the most important years of my career in the service of the emperor. I lost my arm in the Peninsular Campaign, but I continued as physician and surgeon. You would be amazed at the skill which I can command at the operating table with one hand.”

She went over and filled another glass with water and drank some of it. Then she asked him, “Do you believe you are still serving the emperor?”

“I do.” There was no doubt in his reply.

She frowned. “Surely you can’t be deceived by a charlatan like Valmy.”

“Valmy was a brave soldier in our army, and he is now a political force to respect,” the doctor informed her.

“I know nothing of his bravery in the field,” she said. “But I do know that he is now undertaking an audacious plan with the real Napoleon or some clever impostor. And that once Valmy has made use of his puppet, he intends to see him destroyed so that he can become the emperor.”

Old Lacoste smiled grimly at this. “I expect that is the story your superior in London told you. The truth is that your group has the assignment of killing the emperor.”

“And that is what Valmy has made you believe!” she said with a sigh.

“I must believe my leader,” Lacoste said. “The only hope France has is to be rid of the weak Louis and have Napoleon back on the throne.”

She said, “What about Major Walters? Do you know what has been done with him? I understand your group took him prisoner also.”

“I do not know,” Major Lacoste said. “And I tell you this sincerely. We work in cell groups — independent of each other.”

She said, “But all answerable to Valmy.”

“That is correct.”

“I was told that General Von Ryn was expecting me. Instead I’m greeted by you.”

The old doctor looked rather grim. “You will meet him soon enough. It is his wish that you dine with him tonight.”

“Who is he?”

“Valmy’s close associate and the head of our unit,” Major Lacoste said. “He is a Dutchman. A fairly young officer who rose swiftly. Napoleon has never liked him nor trusted him. But Valmy has found him useful.”

Betsy said, “And Valmy makes the decisions now.”

She could see a hint of concern on the old man’s face as she made this point. Then he made an effort to rationalize this situation by saying, “The emperor is not yet his old self. Saint Helena caused serious problems with his health. He must rely on Valmy.”

“And the mistress Valmy has selected for him I”

Lacoste showed surprise. “You know about her?”

“Yes.”

“An unhappy choice in my opinion,” he said with a sigh. “But the emperor is much alone. He needs company. What better than a lovely woman to divert him?”

“Divert him from Valmy’s traitorous intentions,” she said. “It is all so obvious. I don’t know how you have been so easily taken in.”

The old man shrugged. “What other chance do we have? This is our last hope for victory! Many of the old guard like myself are growing too old for action! If we do not restore the glory of France quickly, it will be too late!”

She stared at him sadly. “I can sympathize with you, for I have also known your emperor and came to be fond of him. Perhaps too fond! Your dream is doomed to turn into a nightmare of bloodshed in which the emperor will die along with all your high hopes!”

The doctor bowed. “You are a convincing young woman,” he said. “I must close my ears to your arguments. And I warn you not to offer them to General Von Ryn. He will not take them with such tolerance as I have.”

“When am I to meet him?”

“Shortly,” Lacoste said. “In the meanwhile let me show you to your room so you may freshen up. You will be given the free run of this old house. But do not attempt to go outside. There are sentries all around the place, and they have orders to strike down anyone attempting to leave.”

“So I’m still a prisoner.”

“With extra privileges,” he said. “You should not find it too trying an experience. I’m sure General Von Ryn will respect your sex and youth.”

“I expect no more consideration than the average spy caught in my same plight,” she said.

“Better not mention that,” Dr. Lacoste said dryly. “Now come along.”

He led her from the storage-type room where she’d arrived through a dining room where a table was being set lavishly with flowers, lit candles, silver and china and all on a gleaming white cloth. They went along a short hall, and her room was through the first door on the left. It was small, boxlike but had a bed, a commode with a washbasin, and a single plain chair.

“Not elegant,” the old doctor said. “But you have all the necessities. When you are ready to dine, you can come out to the dining room. I have no doubt General Von Ryn will have arrived by that time.”

She stood staring at the old doctor as he prepared to leave, and she asked him, “You say this Von Ryn will not give me a tolerant hearing. What sort of man is he?”

“Not one of my own favorites, yet I must obey him without question,” Dr. Lacoste said. “In the army he was known as the ‘White Executioner’.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “White Executioner?”

“He was in charge of the division dealing with spies, and he had no hesitance in dealing out the death sentence — whether it seemed justified or not.”

“So much for my own hopes.”

“I doubt that he will dare touch you,” Dr. Lacoste said. “It is my understanding that you are to be taken to Valmy.”

“In Venice?” she tried him.

He smiled grimly. “I cannot say.” And he bowed and went out, closing the door after him.

So here she was in another outlandish situation. She was not only worried about herself but greatly upset as to what had happened to Eric. He was sure to be dealt with more harshly than herself. On the other hand he was more experienced and better equipped to defend himself than she was. She could only pray that he was still safe.

She could not imagine why Valmy considered her important enough to be taken to him. Perhaps he wanted to try and get her to use her friendship with the emperor to help his cause. It was all terribly confusing. She dare not guess what lay ahead but live only for the moment.

With the limited facilities available to her in the cubicle of a room, she cleaned herself and made her clothing as neat as possible. Her hair was becoming straggly, and she decided to comb it out and let it fall to her shoulders. It looked better this way.

She remembered that she was expected in the dining room, and so after a little while rather apprehensively she made her way out there. When she arrived in the room with its soft candlelight and fully set table, she found Von Ryn standing with his back to her as he stared into the fireplace. She saw at once that his hair was pure white and also that he was wearing a uniform of white, even his leather army belts were white leather.

It struck her as very strange. And she thought of her first impression of Felix Black, in his black carriage, black suit and top hat! He had seemed a bizarre creature! Now she was to meet a man of white!

He apparently became aware of her presence in the room and turned. She now had a second shock! His face was cruel and his features rather coarse as she had expected. But not only was his hair pure white, so was his skin, and eyebrows. And his eyes were a weird shade of pink!

“Mademoiselle Chapman!” he said with a cold smile.

“You are General Von Ryn,” she managed.

“I am,” he said, adjusting a monocle in his right eye to inspect her more closely. “They didn’t warn me what a beautiful creature you are.”

“I fear my role here is that of an enemy, General.”

“We will try to forget that for a little,” he said. “I suggest adversaries as a better term.”

“As you say,” she agreed, unable to resist staring at him — this specter in white!

He looked amused. “You think me different? Well, I am. Of course over the years I’ve adjusted to it. But I can promise you being born an albino is not a pleasant experience. Other children mock you, your health is poor, and you are subjected to much unpleasantness.”

“I’m sure you have overcome your early troubles,” she said.

“I have,” he agreed. “I decided to exploit my being different. It has worked very well. At least people know who I am when they see me.”

“You make a distinct and unusual impression.”

His eyes met hers. “You do not find me ugly, I trust?”

“Not at all,” she said. “You are refreshingly different.”

He smiled and removing his monocle said, “Before dinner let us have a drink. I do appreciate that you find me tolerable in your eyes. That should make it easier for us later.” He handed her a glass of wine with a significant look of grim amusement that could mean only one thing.

DINNER HAD been a feast of many courses. Now the arrogant Von Ryn sat across from her puffing on a cigar and in a fairly drunken state. He had continued to drink all through the meal and was still at it. She had been careful only to sip the wine offered her.