Eugenie and the Earl Read online

  'Will my uncle be able to have him enlisted?'

  'Yes, I'm sure. Jerome does not promise what he cannot achieve, and being in the Government means he knows almost everyone of importance. I'm sure George will be gone within weeks. Unless the excise men recognised him or Dickon has betrayed him, and they follow him.'

  'I hope he gets away, for your sake and my uncle's.'

  'He, Jerome, does love the boy despite his behaviour.'

  'Will my uncle get into trouble for helping him escape?' This was something that had occurred to Eugenie almost as soon as she had made her suggestion and the Duke had begun to plan how to help his son.

  'No, I'm sure he won't. It will all be done very discreetly, and George will probably use another name. I know it's wrong, he ought to be punished for his treachery, but the scandal if he were caught would devastate Jerome, and apart from personal embarrassment he would refuse to serve in Government any more, and that would be a disaster for the country.'

  Eugenie nodded. She understood her uncle's position, but wanted George punished. Perhaps, she thought, being in the army, thrust overseas and forced to obey his superiors, would be punishment enough for her wretched cousin. And he might be killed. She hastily dismissed the thought. Of course she did not wish that. Arabella began to speak again.

  'He was right when he said I hoped for a boy,' she said quietly. 'Not to supplant him, that could only happen if he were dead, but I have felt so different this time, not at all the same as when I carried the girls. Some old wise woman once told me boys in the womb were different from girls. I don't mind which it is, but Jerome would like another son whatever happens to George.'

  'Then I hope it is a boy.'

  'Yes, but my Mama said boys are always more delicate than girls, harder to rear. I suppose she felt that way because she lost three boys before they were two years old, between Serena and me.'

  'I think Mama lost a son too, before I was born,' Eugenie said, 'though she never spoke of it to me.'

  They sat in silence for a while and then the tea tray was brought in. After she had her cup Eugenie decided she must tell Arabella about the use George had made of the door through to the old castle ruins.

  She explained. 'He obviously had a key, when Uncle Jerome thought there were no more. I wondered whether anyone else, either someone in the house or one of George's friends in the village, might have another?'

  Arabella shivered. 'Oh dear, and you are in that bedroom right beside it. Do you wish to move?'

  'No, but I think it might be wise to nail that door shut at once. Can you ask someone to do it?'

  'I'll ask Compton to do it, and he will be discreet.'

  She rang the bell, and explained to the butler that they knew of one key that had been used, and were afraid there might be others in the wrong hands.

  He was most indignant. 'I'll see to it at once, my lady. We need to know who has access to the house.'

  'Has he been with you long?' Eugenie asked when the butler had left them. 'He seemed to take it as a personal insult that there was something he didn't know about the house.'

  Arabella laughed. 'He was a footman here when Jerome was born, and I believe he feels it is as much his house as ours. Well, we can safely leave that to him, and I'm ready for sleep.'

  *

  For some reason Eugenie was restless, unable to sleep. Perhaps it was the moonlight coming in through a gap in the curtains. She had left the curtains round the bed open, and one of the window curtains had been caught up. She would perhaps sleep better if she closed them. It did no good, however, she still lay sleepless. Then, startling her, she heard a scraping noise that at first she could not place. It came from outside her room, and suddenly she was sure it was someone trying to open the door, now safely nailed shut. It sounded just like the key being turned in the lock. But that would do whoever it was no good.

  She lay wondering who was attempting to get into the house, and for what purpose. George was on his way to London. Dickon, she hoped, was still being held by the Excise men. His brother Hal had, according to Meg, gone away. But had he? And did he have a different key, or had George given him his? If so, why? Or, and this thought worried her more than the others, was there someone else involved?

  For a few crazy moments she was tempted to go and speak to whoever it was, demand to know what they were about, but she thrust the thought aside. For one thing, even if they could hear her through the thick door, they were not likely to answer. And for another, they would not tell her the truth. She would just frighten them away and what she really wanted was to catch them. But how could she do that? All she could do was to watch through her window and try to make out any intruder as he retreated.

  She threw on a wrap, for the fire had died down just to embers, and it was cold. Then she dragged a stool to the window, carefully pulled aside the curtain, and waited. It did not take long. From the ruins came a horse and rider. It was not one of the shaggy ponies many of the locals rode, if they could afford a horse at all, but a sleek animal which looked a ghostly grey in the moonlight. She could not identify the rider, apart from noticing he was tall and seemed to be dressed entirely in black. It did not, she decided, look like any of the villagers, who would be unlikely to have such a mount. So just who was George involved with, and what would they now do, deprived of surreptitious entry to the house?

  Thoughtful, after watching the mysterious rider cross the park and disappear into the belt of trees at its edge, she went back to bed, to lie sleepless until Jenny brought her morning chocolate. She did not want to tell Arabella, to cause her worry, and her uncle would not be back for several days. She could only hope the visitor would realise his clandestine efforts to gain entry to the house were useless, and desist.

  *

  For a whole day Eugenie could not decide whether to tell anyone of the nocturnal visitor. She didn't want to frighten Arabella, but if she confided in Compton and he organised some kind of watch during the night, would he feel bound to tell her? In the end she decided to wait until the following day, and see whether the intruder came back that night. She lay with her window slightly open, in the hope of hearing a horse, and had her door ajar, the better to hear any attempt to gain access by the nailed-up door. Nothing occurred and she decided she had slept too heavily after her previous disturbed night. She looked out of her window and saw that a few inches of snow had fallen at some time during the night. If it had come early it might show any hoof prints, so she dressed quickly and went outside to inspect the ground, but the snow lay undisturbed.

  She went on to the stables to visit Tommy. It was taking the man a long time to recover from his injuries, and Eugenie suspected he was finding his situation comfortable, with good food from Cook, and the chance to rest while he regained his full strength.

  'Tell me about the attack,' she said. 'Why did Lord George turn on you at that place? Had something happened, such as another man coming to speak to him?'

  Tommy shook his head. 'No, Miss, there was nothin'. We was goin' through a bit of a wood, so mebee it was 'cause no one was lookin'.'

  That sounded reasonable to Eugenie. George would not want to risk being seen attacking his escort. Tommy could tell her no more, not even whether George had ridden on in the same direction, or turned aside. When she questioned him more closely it seemed that they were in the New Forest when the attack happened, which was the way towards Lymington and the rendezvous with the French boat.

  She thanked him, though she had learned nothing new or useful, and turned to leave him. She was walking slowly towards the kitchen door when a rider clattered into the stable yard. It was a grey horse, very similar to the one she had seen two nights before, a big, sturdy riding horse. So startled was she at this she did not look at the rider until a familiar voice hailed her.

  'Well met, Mistress Eugenie.'

  Eugenie looked up and saw the Earl regarding her with what seemed like unfriendly eyes.

  'Oh, it's you! Why are you here?'

/>   He dismounted and handed the horse over to a groom who had come running.

  'I'll be leaving again within the hour,' he said, 'so don't unsaddle him. Just cover him with a rug.'

  'Leaving?' Eugenie felt as stupid as she decided she sounded. Why was the Earl here? She had not known he was in the district, and surely if he had been here two nights since he would have contacted them? Had he been riding the grey? Was it the same horse? There were so many questions, but before she could voice any of them he spoke.

  'Where is George? Is he here?'

  'George?'

  'Yes, your cousin!'

  He had never before spoken so curtly to her, and she frowned in puzzlement.

  'I know he is my cousin!' she replied, her temper rising. 'Why do you want him?'

  'Where is he?' he repeated. 'Can't you answer a simple question?'

  'He's in London, with his father, and I think you need to answer some questions, too, coming here like this, and trying to get into the house secretly!'

  'What do you say?'

  'Do you have a separate key to the door from the ruins, or did you take George's? Or did he give it to you?'

  He took her arm, and though she did her best to shake it off he held on to her and steered her towards the house.

  'Come inside. I can't explain here. Why is George in London?' he asked, despite his caution about talking where grooms or other servants could overhear him.

  Eugenie was thankful George and her uncle had departed in such a hurry. By now, she hoped, they would be in London and the Earl could not, even if he wished to, follow and detain George. She had no idea whether, once enlisted, George would be safe from the law, but she felt certain her uncle would have made certain he sailed within days.

  'He's gone to enlist.'

  'Enlist? And escape retribution, I suppose. Do you know what damage you've done, with your infernal meddling?' He sounded furious, angrier than she had ever known him.

  'Damage?'

  'Yes, to me and others like me, and a few hundred friendly Frenchman and women!'

  *

  Chapter 11

  By now they were inside the house, in the service corridor leading to the entrance hall. Eugenie took the Earl's arm as they passed through the baize-covered door.

  'Arabella is not well, she's still in bed. Come into the study.'

  The Earl made no protest, and followed her. Inside, he closed the door with a distinct snap and went across to poke the fire into a blaze.

  'Do you know what that wretched George has been doing?'

  'I understand he broke into his father's desk, this one, stole some money, and copied some of the papers kept there. Unimportant ones – '

  'Unimportant! Don't you know what they contained?'

  'Yes. Uncle Jerome explained. The names of spies – '

  'So that's what you think of me, is it? And all the other Englishmen and women risking their lives in France.'

  'Women?' Eugenie was startled, she had not expected there to be women agents working in France.

  'Yes, brave women, as well as men. But I suppose to you they are spies and expendable!'

  She was indignant. 'No, of course not! But surely they are not forced to do it?'

  'They do it because they care for this country, and the freedom of others. But now, thanks to you and your cousin, they are in danger and will not yet know of it.'

  'Can they be warned? Uncle Jerome said there were also names of Frenchmen who were working against Napoleon.'

  'Yes, and they will be in even greater danger, as they cannot as easily leave. George imperiled them all for the sake of a few guineas. I find that despicable, and he will escape punishment thanks to you and your uncle.'

  'But can't you understand, he loves George despite his faults, and had to try and help him!'

  'He loves him more than he loves his country.'

  'That's unfair! If you had a son, would you not wish to help him, however bad his behaviour?'

  'I hope I never have a son who would betray his country.'

  'I don't know how you could ensure that!'

  He sighed. 'This does no good. What does your uncle intend?'

  Eugenie wondered whether to tell him the truth, then she saw the implacable set of his expression, and knew he would detect any lies.

  'He is to enlist in a regiment sailing for Canada.'

  The Earl gave a sharp laugh. 'He can't do much harm there. I was half afraid he'd be sent to the Peninsula.'

  He turned and crossed to the sideboard, poured himself a drink, and then, as an afterthought, one for Eugenie.

  'Let us sit down,' he said, handing her the glass.

  Eugenie was relieved he seemed to have calmed down.

  'What do you mean to do? Will you follow them to London?'

  'I'll go, but I doubt I'll catch them, or be able to do anything if I do. When did they leave?'

  'Almost as soon as George came here. He was in a terrible state – '

  'So he should be.'

  'And,' Eugenie said repressively, 'if you want to hear, stop interrupting!'

  To her relief he grinned, and waved his glass to her. 'Do carry on making excuses for a traitor.'

  She frowned. 'He said the boat he was to meet had been captured by the Excise men, and he managed to get away after a fight. Why were you there?' she asked, suddenly wondering how he came to be involved.

  'I was on the boat,' he said. 'I wanted to discover where they met the traitors here, so I came with them.'

  She was horrified. 'They'd have killed you if they'd discovered you were English! Why did you risk it?'

  'Some of us spies have to take risks,' he said, and she knew he had not forgiven her for using that word.

  She thought of something else. 'Was it you trying to get into the house from the ruins? The night before last? How did you have a key?'

  'George dropped it during the fight, and I thought I recognised it, and wished to make sure. I was not intending to intrude, but the door would not open.'

  'It's been nailed up, since George was using the ruins to meet with some of his conspirators.'

  'So that's why he had it. I wondered. But do you know who these others were?'

  Eugenie debated within herself whether she ought to tell him, then remembered that Dickon had already been taken and would no doubt implicate his brother.

  'Yes, two brothers from the village.'

  'I thought George was supposed to be guarded?'

  'He was, but he attacked Tommy, his groom, when he was on the way to Lymington. The poor man only just managed to get back here, he was badly wounded.'

  'And you still excuse that despicable cousin of yours! Well, I must go, there's no point in staying, and I don't wish to upset Arabella.'

  *

  Eugenie sat on in the study after the Earl departed. He was angry with her for having a despicable cousin, as if she could help it. While she understood his fears for the English agents and for the French who supported them, she could not feel that a list with a few names could do very much damage. She presumed the papers copied the first time the desk had been broken into had been sent to France, but George and the French seamen had been caught before the second lot had been passed on. Perhaps the damage was limited.

  The agents – how she wished she had not used the more emotive word spies – would surely not be in great danger. Would the French authorities really try to find a few stray Englishmen? Just what were they attempting, anyway? Could a few people working in secret really discover important information, for example the plans of the French armies? As for the French, would the authorities believe they were working against their own country? They'd be unlikely to keep incriminating material such as documents, so what proof would there be?

  She sighed. There was nothing she could do, and she had to remain cheerful for Arabella's sake. She went upstairs to see how she was, to find the Duchess sitting before her dressing table having her hair dressed. She turned and smiled at Eugenie.


  'The girls are delighted with the snow, and want to play outside, and as the sun has come out and I'm feeling so much better I thought we could walk for a short while in the gardens with them.'

  Eugenie agreed. She would not mention the Earl's visit, and probably only the grooms knew of it. They'd seen none of the indoor servants as they came in from the stable yard, so she hoped Arabella would not hear, and would not question her about his reasons for coming to Castle Tempus. She would tell her uncle, of course, unless the Earl had gone to London and spoken to him there. Would they quarrel? Would she ever see the Earl again? If, as she planned, she hired her own house in London for the Season, and found a suitable chaperone, would she meet the Earl? The prospect of perhaps never seeing him again, or of having him simply nod to her in greeting, and no more drives in the Park with him, was not a pleasant one. She admitted to herself that she depended on his friendship for her own comfort, and to be in London without it would be something she could not contemplate with any degree of pleasure. It was almost enough to make her decide not to go to London. She could make the excuse that she would prefer to wait until she could go with Arabella, perhaps in the following Little Season if she were well enough after the birth of her child.

  She had to abandon these gloomy thoughts and join in the games with the little girls. The youngest had not seen snow before, and they all delighted in making snow balls and pelting one another, Eugenie, Jenny and their nurse. Their mother, they were told, was not to be a target. Then Eugenie introduced them to the skills of making a snowman, and promised that if the cold weather continued she would show them how to slide on a strip of ice.

  'And skate on the lake?' Caroline asked.

  'But we don't have a lake,' Arabella said. 'Not a proper one. There's just the little river down in the valley which widens a bit.'

  'And rivers don't often freeze, because the water is always moving,' Eugenie said.

  'Do you know all this because you lived in Switzerland?' Sophie asked.

  'Yes, we had lots of snow there, and sometimes it was so deep you could not see over it. The windows were covered too.'

  She thought back to the days when they had first lived there, when her father had taught her to skate, and they had driven in sledges. Despite her mother's ill health they had been a happy family. One day, perhaps, when this war was over and they could travel freely once more, she might return. There had been a few friends she would like to see again. She had written to say she had reached England safely, but there was no guarantee letters would be delivered.