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Chapter 39
Thomlin viewed the intimidating edifice in front of them, then turned to Francois.
"I hope you suitable scouted this place Francois, we're sunk if you haven't"
"I know this one, guv'nor, we'll find them in the east wing."
"Which gives us a mere three hundred rooms to search. Thomlin, I really wonder how you tolerate him."
"Three hundred is significantly less than all the rooms in this edifice. Let's get moving." Swift and silent work followed and soon the three men stood inside the building, at the cost of one guard. At this point Francois took the lead, with Thomlin directly behind and Etienne brought up the lead. Fours floors, and about as many guards later they struck gold, a man was standing alertly by a heavy door, which was ajar, light spilled out, but what was being discussed was unclear. They shrank back into the corner, as Thomlin fingered his knives thoughtfully, Etienne tapped him on the shoulder.
"'Tis Georges, Bernard's guard. I would not touch him." Thomlin nodded in response to the soft whisper, but did not remove his fingers from the hilts of his knives. Just because a man was not for disposing of did not mean that they could not be detected. When the meeting in the lighted room broke up, it broke up suddenly with Bernard storming out of the room and, fortunately, up towards the stairs, Georges followed immediately after securing the door. Thomlin followed them a short distance up the passage, then returned.
"Francois, go check they don't come back." Francois vanished silently up the passage, leaving Thomlin to inspect the door with Etienne. After a close inspection, Thomlin beckoned Etienne to a short distance down the passage. "I want you to open that door, for I have not the slightest idea what is on the other side, but I am counting on it being who we are after." Etienne nodded and they returned to the door. The contents of the room were depressing, depressing for the simple reason that there were no contents beyond a lamp standing in one corner. Thomlin took one last look around the room, before he turned and led the way out of the room and up to Francois.
"No go, where to now Francois?"
"Another fifty rooms on this floor, but our friends just went up a floor. I think there is nothing left on this floor, unless they are aware of our presence."
"I doubt it, but there is little we can do about if they are aware of us. Move it." Francois moved swiftly off, and soon they were up the next landing, which branched in three directions. Francois hesitated momentarily, then took off down the right hand most corridors. Etienne followed in silent bewilderment, it rather amazed him that Francois was not lost. "Hsst." Francois stopped immediately in response to Thomlin's soft hiss, he was crouched and listening at one of a multitude of bolted doors. Seconds later he was back on his feet and beckoning them down the corridor a short distance.
"What is it, guv'nor?"
"The two Darcy's are in there. But she is not." Etienne watched as Francois' face fell.
"What is it James?"
"Our third person is not in that room. Etienne, Francois is about to give you a map. You're going to get those two out of the building, and fold up all operations outside the building. Get Pierre back to Versailles. Inform the necessary quarters that I am ill."
"You're right you're sick."
"Quiet." Thomlin grabbed the hurriedly sketched map from Francois and handed it to Etienne. "I hope you can make sense of that." He then loosened his knives and he and Francois set about work they had been doing for years.
Darcy looked up sharply as he heard a faint rustle outside the door, but as the noise was not repeated he returned his attention to the discussion he was holding with Elizabeth.
"No I continue to disagree about that."
"You've been disagreeing ever since we were in Meryton. I tell you that we really should change the book we discuss." Elizabeth pushed her hair out of her face, before twisting it up and repining it on her head.
"At present our only options are Plato, such a philosophical character, and that book that I refuse to read. For we have exhausted that Austen book Judith leant you."
"So we are reduced to silence." Seconds later Darcy was on his feet, with Elizabeth pushed firmly behind him. The bolts had slammed stealthily, but swiftly out and the door swung open, two men had come into the room on the run, knives at the ready. Darcy frowned at the leader.
"Lord Thomlin, I was not aware you had a flair for the dramatic?"
"Silence and move it." Darcy frowned doubtfully, then glanced at Elizabeth. "If you don't I will render both of you senseless and have you forcibly removed. We'll have a big enough problem getting Lydia if we have to worry about you. Your father, ma'am, is in Austria as Mr. Charles Thomlin." Elizabeth nodded slowly.
"Fitzwilliam, there is nothing else we can do." Darcy hesitated a second longer, then nodded, following Thomlin and his companion out of the room.
"Etienne here will show you off the property. Now go." Elizabeth hesitated.
"But..."
"Just remove the gown, the underclothes are decent enough and they are dark. They're just pajamas." Elizabeth coloured, but nodded and hurriedly started stripping off the gown with Darcy's aid. It came of with greater ease than it had gone on and soon she was hurrying after Darcy and Etienne.
Thomlin watched as the small group vanished around the corner, then turned back to eye the mound of deserted gown.
"What are we meant to do with this mound?"
"Perhaps if we were to put it in the corner of the room, then rebolt the door. Should cause some distraction if we aren't gone by the time they find out." Thomlin nodded, and hurriedly bundled the mass of pale green material into the room. He then cautiously rebolted the door and followed Francois to the stairs again. Two floors later Francois sat down in a heap in a corner.
"What now guv'nor?"
"We find some corner to hole up in, and hope that we can find Lydia and get her out before much happens to her." Francois glanced up silently.
"How's the arm guv'nor?"
"It's fine." Thomlin frowned at the multitude of rooms around them. "The question is, are these rooms used."
Pierre glanced up alertly at the soft whistle, and watched as three people scaled over the wall, bringing the irons with them. It looked like Thomlin and Francois had not returned, Pierre frowned, so which prisoner was not in the group.
"Pierre?" Definitely one of the people was Etienne, neither Francois or Thomlin greeted like that.
"Over here."
"Thomlin says to pull everything up and away. He wants you back at Versailles." Pierre nodded and then glanced briefly at Etienne's two companions before standing up and stretching his cramped muscles.
"Let's get moving, we've quite a hike ahead of us."
"You're just going to leave like this?" Pierre looked at Darcy in disgust.
"What good will I do sitting getting cramped in this corner. My orders are to go to Versailles, so to Versailles I will go. Move it." Darcy glanced down at Elizabeth who was looking slightly weary.
"I take it we couldn't take a brief break first?" Pierre glanced at Elizabeth.
"Do you NEED a break?" Elizabeth hastily shook her head, then gave Darcy a pleading look. Darcy looked resigned then nodded. He could not argue if Elizabeth considered herself capable of the long walk, and to be honest, he really did not feel like arguing. As reluctant as he was to admit it, even to himself, he was concerned about Lydia's welfare.
"Pierre." Pierre gave Armand the cynical eyebrow as they came into the small house.
"What is it?"
"I really have to be going. Here's the stuff for Thomlin." Armand bowed briefly as he hurried out the door, and soon Pierre heard the clatter of a horse hurrying away. Pierre frowned in perplexity at the folded sheets of paper in his hand, then glanced over at Darcy, Etienne and Elizabeth, until his attention was captured by Darcy.
"Mr. Darcy, sir." Darcy glanced up, surprised by the sudden formality and courtesy in Pierre's speech.
"Yes?"
"Where is that ring from?" Darcy glanced down in surprise at his hands, noticing for the first time that he had been thoughtlessly twisting his father's ring.
"The ring belonged to my father." Darcy shrugged, and assumed the conversation was over.
"Mr. Darcy, sir. Have you seen the ruby one from that set?" Darcy looked up very sharply.
"Yes, I have."
"It has still not been returned to the pimpernel himself?" Darcy shook his head silently, but his eyes gleamed with interest. "You'll find him in the centre of London society, though he is at present residing in Brussels." Darcy creased up his brows.
"There are an awfully large number of people who come into that grouping. Do you know no more?" Pierre shook his head.
"The one who knew about him, outside the league itself, died at the end of the revolution. Sir Andrew Ffoulkes knows who it is, but he will not tell, similarly with other of the lieutenants." Darcy frowned, and resumed his twisting of the ring.
"How long will we remain here?"
"Another fifteen minutes and you will have transport to any destination you choose. But I suggest immediate return to your inn, and not to stir from it until you hear from either Thomlin of myself." Darcy nodded slowly.
Chapter 40
Lydia sat silently, totally relaxed, and only just awake. It had been rather a long time since she had had food, and she had the feeling that it would probably be even longer before she had any, if she had any at all. Lydia hurriedly clamped down on the thought, the last thing she needed now was a fit of the blue dismays. For the umpteenth time she stood up and slowly worked her way around the room, looking for some means by which she might effect an escape, and as with the other umpteen times, she found absolutely nothing. Other than the fact that her guard had a loud snore, and that stone floors are much cooler than wood ones, and she had used to complain about the floors at Longbourn. It was the sudden snort on the part of the guard, which sent her back to the plank that was firmly anchored on the wall. The screech of unoiled bolts and the creak of the doors protesting progress were the formal announcement she received that Bernard had returned to grace her with his presence.
"Well Lydia, I hope a few hours of hunger has reduced your stubborn propensities?"
"My name is Carrie, not Lydia, and how many hours has it been since you locked me up in this cell?" Lydia was feeling more than a trifle tired, since her part required that she have hysterics at regular intervals.
"It has been only 24 hours since you were locked up Lydia, and please ease up on the hysterics, you are giving the guard a serious headache."
"It has been 26 to be precise, your clocks are very inaccurate Bernard." Bernard spun around as the cool voice interrupted his conversation with Lydia.
"Who are you and what in hell do you want?"
"My name is unnecessary, but you will hand the woman over to me."
"Georges!"
"Oh, m'sieur Georges." The masked visitor frowned in mock sorrow. "I fear he has been decommissioned for the space of some hours, and probably won't feel very well when he comes too."
"What have you done to him?" Lydia watched in silence as Bernard got steadily jumpier, definitely Bernard was new to the game. He was practically announcing to the world that he was rattled.
"The same as I will do to you if you don't quietly cease this game."
"You can't threaten me. I'm of the King's Gendarmerie."
"Indeed." The response made Lydia shiver involuntarily. "Well you may tell the King that he has a pathetic force." Bernard bristled.
"You better give a good reason for why I should hand the woman over?"
"Try giving me a good reason for why I should not take her...." He never finished his sentence, for Bernard had started reaching for his coat pocket. The movement ended in a gasp of pain, and Lydia looked thoughtfully at the knife hilt that now protruded from Bernard's shoulder, then glanced back at the visitor, who now had a companion behind him.
"Guv'nor, that quacker outside is getting restless, should I lean on him again."
"Don't just lean on him Francois, dispose of him." The man never took his eyes off Bernard. "Then get this woman out of here." Francois vanished briefly, then reappeared. He carefully skirted past Thomlin and the shocked Bernard, but before he went to Lydia he quickly rummaged through Bernard's pockets, placing the contents in his pockets. He then pulled the knife out of Bernard's shoulder and chucked it back to Thomlin.
"Come miss, I'm sure we can find you much more comfortable lodgings than these." Lydia calmly followed Francois out of the room, carefully keeping out of the line of sight between Thomlin and Bernard. Thomlin joined them five minutes later, a look of distaste was on his face and he was carefully wiping his knives on the black cloth that had served as his mask.
"Quick, move it. It took us longer to find you than we intended and the drugs will probably soon wear off the guards." Thomlin nodded his satisfaction seeing that Lydia had already stripped off the bulk gown and was now attired in riding clothes, and was just finishing pulling on her boots. Already her hair was down and firmly secured at the back of her neck. "Glad to see you Leon. Something the matter Francois?" Francois shook his head, then hurriedly lead the way down the passage. Lydia eyed the numerous, motionless guards they passed, and whistled softly.
"You certainly do pack some power in your drug department. What happened to Bernard?"
"I silenced him a trifle permanently." Lydia made no reply, and continued to follow Francois, until Francois pulled up with a jolt, and swore softly. "What is it Francois?"
"We have visitors ahead of us." Lydia watched in silence as Thomlin's brow creased, already she could hear the faint sound of approaching footsteps.
"Both directions." Thomlin took two quick steps to a nearby window and glanced out. The courtyard below was empty. "Quick, get out there." Thomlin firmly buried a climbing spike in the wall just below the window, then chucked the attached rope out the window. Francois went first, followed immediately by Lydia. Thomlin then turned and pulled his knives from their sheathes, he had very little doubt as to who the visitors were. It had been a slight lie when he had claimed that there was still time before the guards recovered, the guards they had passed were actually dosed for the second time. Apparently the right wing guards had suddenly decided there was a problem with the left wing. The first guard went down with a gurgle as a knife landed in his throat, then the guards arrived in force, and no longer was this an even match. Boots and fists flew, and Thomlin swore as he felt a fist connect firmly with his head, for one of the first times in his life he knew he would not win clear unless a distraction occurred. The distraction was caused by a pistol barking, once, twice, three times. The guards started to clear, and grabbing a slight thinning, Thomlin bulldozed his way clear and took off running down a nearby corridor, he was conscious of someone running close behind him and firing very occasionally. But soon, they lost the following and Thomlin eased his run back to a walk, he was totally blown.
"How's the shoulder?"
"Fine, what in hell brought you back?" Lydia shrugged.
"We weren't going to escape if you were caught, so it was a fairly logical thing to do." Lydia looked critically at the strained and white face. "And I also know that you are lying about the condition of your shoulder. Now get moving, we can't have you passing out before we get clear off this edifice." Thomlin emptied his flask, then followed Lydia down the corridor.
Mr. Darcy stirred then resumed his restless pace across the room and back again, it was now suppertime and still there was no news of Lydia. He'd had quite a time persuading Elizabeth to retire and go to sleep, and he rather hoped that Lydia would be returned before she came down again. He stopped pacing and walked over to stand by the window looking down into the street. The rain that morning had settled the dust, filling the ruts with an evil looking liquid instead, Darcy turned and resumed pacing for the umpteenth time. It was now nearing the end of the second day since they had been released, and Darcy was starting to have considerable fears concerning Lydia's continued existence.
Elizabeth stood silently in the doorway, watching as Darcy slowly paced back and forth between the window and the bookcase. He never looked up from his feet as he paced, his shoulders were slumped and his expression was bitter. Never had Elizabeth seen him looking so defeated, she cautiously walked up and touched him on the shoulder. He spun around in total bewilderment.
"Elizabeth..." He stopped, totally lost and looking it. As Elizabeth walked into his arms he automatically wrapped them around her, but his expression was no lighter.
"There was nothing you could have done." Darcy looked down at her in total bewilderment.
"But..." He trailed off again, and buried his face in the curls on top of her head.
"There was nothing you could do, and Lydia would be the first person to tell you that. Besides which there are several more days before we should start to really worry. M'sieur Pierre did warn that it could take a while to get her out." Elizabeth waited silently until he removed his face from her hair. When he did, it was with a rueful chuckle.
"And such we are lead to believe that our wives are weak and should be cherished. Elizabeth, you're making me feel awful."
"Very well." Elizabeth wriggled out of his arms and started to walk to the door.
"Minx." Elizabeth chuckled as Darcy grabbed her again.
"It is not polite to call me a minx."
"I believe that I have never been considered polite, why do you expect it to start now?" Elizabeth chuckled.
"Well it appears that I have not been overly missed." Lydia's voice came huffily from the door, and in a flash Elizabeth was clear of Darcy and running to hug Lydia.
"Care to repeat that remark?" Lydia coughed briefly.
"Not at all, I prefer that my ribcage remains intact. I'm glad to see that you are both unharmed." Darcy was watching from a short distance away in concern.
"Lydia, is something the matter? You are looking very pale." Lydia pulled a dirty face at Darcy as Elizabeth backed off and inspected her closely.
"Nothing that food and a comfortable bed won't fix." Darcy watched in silent amusement as Elizabeth bundled Lydia out of the room and upstairs. Soon the downstairs staff was thrown into chaos as orders for food came flying down the stairs. It was not for another hour till Elizabeth appeared once more in his library room.
"Lydia says we need to leave tomorrow at first light. She wouldn't say why." Darcy looked up from his accounts and smiled.
"I expect she has her reasons, and I expect we will probably find out what they are presently."
Chapter 41
Etienne stared silently down at Pierre, who was practically hoping with anxiety. "But what good will I do? If neither you, nor Francois can make him see reason, do you really think I can?" Pierre shook his head awkwardly.
"Francois and lack the physical strength. Not even Napoleon himself could make Thomlin take to sick bed." Etienne sighed tiredly and pulled his coat on.
"Okay, but this better not take to long. I have parade duty in an hour." Pierre hurriedly lead the way through the network of twisting passages, until they were met by Francois, typically hopping around like a grasshopper with sore feet.
"What are you doing out in the hallways, Francois?"
"The guv'nor kicked me out." Francois' face of despair was almost ludicrously comical.
"Well you shouldn't be such a stuffy turkey buzzard. Anyone would kick a hoppergrass like you out." Pierre opened the door and walked unceremoniously into the room, followed by Etienne and a decidedly nervous Francois. Thomlin was seated on the edge of the desk leafing furiously through a large pile of paper.
"I said out and I meant out." Thomlin didn't even glance up from the paper, but Etienne very easily picked up the unusual strain lines around Thomlin's eyes and mouth.
"Unfortunately you only said that to Francois so I'm going to stay." Thomlin looked up in annoyance.
"Get out Etienne, I'm busy." Etienne cocked an eyebrow.
"So polite, well cease being busy and let Pierre deal with that shoulder of yours."
"Like hell. I've got work to do. He can see to it in two days." Etienne swept the paper off the table, in annoyance.
"You will let Pierre deal with you now." Thomlin looked silently into Etienne's furious eyes.
"Damn it Etienne, I wish you'd let me kill myself alone without interfering."
"That is precisely why I am interfering. What would old Nappy say if he came to find you dead in your bed."
"He'd probably dance around singing hallelujahs." Etienne grinned at the sarcastic note in Thomlin's voice.
"Well that would never do, old Nappy must be our sober general."
"Do try to remember his name Etienne."
"I beg your pardon, sir. Of course I actually meant to say his Imperial Highness, Emperor Napoleon."
"Thankyou. Okay Pierre, do your worst." Thomlin quickly stripped off his coat, waistcoat and shirt. Etienne bit back a wince as he noted he total lack of use Thomlin made of his arm during this process. Pierre approached cautiously, then set to work at unknotting the bandage around the shoulder, the flesh was raised and angry looking around the bandage, and Etienne had a very nasty feeling about what would be found below. Once glance at Pierre showed that the owner of that name also had similar fears. The bandage was soon off and Etienne let out a cautious breath, his worst fears had not been lived up to, though the shoulder was definitely unhappy. Pierre was chatting to himself as he fiddled carefully around the shoulder, trying to test the bones without disturbing Thomlin's very brittle temper, he was unsuccessful and the entire operation was interrupted on numerous occasions with a bout of fluent invectives about Pierre and his ancestors. Pierre grunted and stepped back from Thomlin.
"Francois, get rum from down the hall. M'sieur Etienne, it looks like I'm going to have to request your aid."
"What's the verdict Pierre?" Thomlin was looking over at them without any expression.
"It is a fractured collarbone, master James."
"So that's why my arm has been useless." Etienne practically gaped at the calm response.
"You mean you haven't been able to use that arm in half a week and yet you have merrily scaled walls, got involved in multiple fights and been working yourself silly without thinking particularly hard about it?" Thomlin glanced up with a rueful grin.
"When you put it that way, it does indeed sound bizarre, but that is the truth."
"It's not bizarre, it's plain fool hardy. Why in hell did you ever go after the girl anyway?" Pierre interrupted at this point and handed Thomlin a large tankard of rum. Thomlin took it and calmly consumed the contents, watched by an astounded Etienne. "Pierre he has just consumed enough to fell an ox."
"That was the whole idea. I have no wish for him to get fed up halfway through repair operations and kick me out." Etienne watched in silence as Thomlin very rapidly succumbed to the potions, his final condition was that of muzzy good cheer. Pierre was quickly to work, cutting, bandaging and setting the fractured bone. As a final precaution he rebound the shoulder and bound the whole arm against his torso. Etienne watched in silence, then followed Pierre out of the room when the operation was complete. Francois had curled up in the corner sometime previously, and it wasn't half-obvious that nothing short of a brigade would shift him from that room.
"I see now why you made James tipsy. I will admit, I had never seen him even well to do." Pierre grunted.
"He can drink anyone under the table. That much rum only just manages to get him under, he'll be well enough to appear cold sober in an hour.
Elizabeth stretched stiffly, then glanced out the window to see Darcy riding comfortably alongside, before turning back to look at Lydia.
"Why did Thomlin pull us out, I do not see how it would be of interest to him."
"He probably had some massive plan on the move." Elizabeth frowned.
"Is he in love with you Lydia?" Lydia coughed, then started to choke on suppressed laughter.
"Heavens, no." Elizabeth frowned in perplexity.
"Then why did he pull us out?" Lydia looked thoughtfully at Elizabeth.
"You're not going to let it go are you?" Elizabeth shook her head mulishly. "Napoleon landed yesterday evening, just before I returned. Thomlin pulled us out for the simple reason that he doesn't want Britain restructuring her entire intelligence system. He would be effectively blinded if that occurred."
"Then why don't they just restructure if you know what effect it will have?"
"Because it has a fairly high price when it comes to our people. You restructure only when it is necessary. The effects are nearly as bad for us as they are for our...opponents." Elizabeth frowned her dissatisfaction. "It's internal politics again, just forget about it, it doesn't make sense. You make up the rules as you go along."
"But that's cheating?" Lydia looked up innocently.
"Did you really think that this business was about honest dealing?" Elizabeth flushed and returned her gaze to out the window. Lydia grinned mischievously, then returned to her book, her grin quickly faded, and it was not the fault of the book.
Suzanne Thomlin pushed the hair out of her eyes and then returned her attention to the pies that were cooking in the oven.
"Mama." Suzanne stood up and looked up at Rosemary who was standing nervously in the doorway.
"Yes. Oh dear, watch the pies for a minute, I need to go check that Franz has not messed up the dinner again." Rosemary watched as Suzanne vanished out of the room, then turned her attention to the pies, until Suzanne returned to the kitchen. "I'm sorry Rosemary, you wished to talk about something?" Rosemary inspected her fingers nervously.
"Are we going to see the others again?" Suzanne paused and looked at Rosemary.
"Honestly, I do not know. Though I think it might be interesting. What is Arabella doing?" Rosemary paused thoughtfully.
"I last saw her trying to talk with Kurt from up the hill. They seem to get on quite well, in spite of the language difficulties." Suzanne smiled, and started to laugh.
"Oh dear, to think I used to have hysterics whenever I heard that one of you had so much as talked to a man." Suzanne turned as two coaches and outriders approached. "Go for your father Rosemary, we have visitors." Rosemary hurried out of the room, as Suzanne whipped the pies out of the oven and gave a large stew a stir.
"Suzanne, we have visitors." Charles came into the kitchen on the run.
"I had noticed, you'd best greet them, then go find Rosemary, I just sent her out after you." Charles grimaced slightly.
"Well hopefully it occurred to her to check the library before she headed to the fields. I left Plato open on my desk." Charles vanished back into the main part of the house to greet the visitors, almost simultaneously Rosemary reappeared in the kitchen. Suzanne promptly whipped off her apron.
"Straighten your hair Mary, we have visitors."
"Yes mama."
"I'm sorry Rosemary, but really, your braids are mussed." Rosemary hastily checked her braids in the small mirror, then joined her mother to greet the newly arrived guests.
Chapter 42
Lydia shifted uneasily as the coach finally pulled in at a small posting inn. Elizabeth had been sleeping for the last couple of hours, and Lydia was wishing that she could fall asleep as well.
"Elizabeth?" Lydia glanced up to see Darcy looking in the window.
"She's asleep." Darcy nodded, and turned to leave. "What did you want her for?"
"We're a mere two postal changes from Brussels and I was going to ask whether she wanted to eat now or in Brussels."
"That'll have to wait till she wakes up. What news of Napoleon?" Mr. Darcy gave her an odd look.
"The last I heard he was still on Elba."
"He won't be there for long." Lydia settled back on the cushions, and stared blankly at Mr. Darcy till he remounted his horse and the coach moved off again.
"Etienne, you really are a pain." Etienne glanced up from his book.
"So you've finally been given the medical all clear to come and abuse me?"
"Of course I haven't." Thomlin's sleeve was pinned out of the way.
"Then why are you here?"
"Because I'm not the one who's going to tell Pierre and Francois that I've made a brief run for it. You can tell them I'll be back in two days."
"Playing chicken are you?"
"No, playing big brother."
"So what's on the verge of exploding?"
"The republican stewpot." Thomlin vanished out the door leaving Etienne to shake his head in bewilderment. He really did not know how Thomlin got what news he did, but certainly there must be some source that neither Pierre nor Francois were aware of. With a sigh he returned to polishing his boots, Etienne was more then a trifle two sided about the rumoured landing of Napoleon. There had been many things he had seen while in Spain that made him doubt the true motives of the Corsican Emperor. Firmly Etienne straightened thoughts, these were not the thoughts of a lieutenant in the French Army, least of all an... Etienne paused, what was his status with Thomlin, the man was so distant from the world in general that he didn't like the thought of claiming to be a friend, but acquaintance was too distant, and that put him in the middle. Perhaps a trusted acquaintance? Etienne shook his head, not trusted that way, James told him precisely what was required and not a word beyond. The man excelled at pointless conversation, could talk for hours, and you would be totally satisfied with the amount of information he had given, until he had left and you actually thought through what he had said. Etienne finished the boot, then turned to look around the small cramped room, before looking up to see a frustrated Pierre standing in the door.
"He said he was going to play big brother, something about the republican stewpot." Etienne spluttered the response before the question was asked, and Pierre rolled his eyes before vanishing out the door again. Etienne yanked on his boots and hustled after Pierre, who was now walking at a speed that was nearly a run towards the stables. "Where are you off too, he seemed uninterested in company?"
"Which is precisely why I'm going after him. The 'Republican Stewpot' in that context means that an....acquaintance of his has re-appeared in town." Pierre was soon galloping away on his horse, leaving a very bewildered Etienne to stare after him.
"What you talking to old Pierre about?" Etienne turned to see his Commanding Officer standing at his elbow.
"Oh, Thomlin was apparently up to something." Etienne looked thoughtful. "Do you know why everyone seems to get excited when Thomlin leaves Versailles?"
"Wouldn't have the slightest idea, though it is rumoured that he was involved in the sweeps during Napoleon's reign."
"That court-card?" Etienne's brows rose. "He doesn't look like he could identify a musket it if was put under his nose."
"That's my opinion as well. Get those boots polished, we have a parade in twenty minutes." Etienne muttered softly under his breath as his C.O. marched away, then hurried off to polish his boots for the second time that day. He rather wondered whether the C.O. had been telling the truth of his opinion, or whether he had been telling what was officially called the truth. What was the truth was a question Etienne most certainly did not know the answer of. Yes Thomlin was tied up in sticky business for the most part, but whether he was tied up in those sweeps was a mystery.
Thomlin rode gently along, with Jules back in town, trouble was very likely afoot, especially since Napoleon had arrived. Not that he could do much, but there was always the chance that a pleasant talk with Jules would give him a hint of what might be coming.
"Hoy! Thomlin!" Thomlin twisted in his saddle to see a sight that was once very familiar. Jules de la Voucher was reclining on a chair under the awning of a small inn, on his right armrest was a tankard of ale and on his left was his pistol.
"De la Voucher." Thomlin smoothly dismounted, ordered some ale and sat down in a chair near Jules.
"Cut the formalities James. Someone might recognise you."
"You do have a sarcastic tongue Jules. What brought you back from Switzerland?"
"Their bad ale forced me out."
"Indeed, I'd heard that Swiss ale was tolerable."
"Not nearly enough to tempt me to stay longer than was absolutely necessary."
"Your stay there was out of necessity?" Jules grinned at Thomlin.
"You won't get anything out of me that way boy."
"Well you can't blame me for trying."
"Tell you what, I'll strike a deal. I tell you all I know about Republican plans, and you tell me Boney's current location."
"Doubt there is anything you can tell me that I don't already know."
"True, but it was worth the effort."
"Was it?"
"But of course!" Jules looked absolutely astounded. "After all Louis may have suitably brainwashed you so you'd willingly hand over information. After all you do claim to be a monarchist."
"What I claim and what I am are two very different things if you were not already aware. If I remember you went to Switzerland claiming to a patriotic English citizen."
"Prove that I am not."
"I'd sooner prove my patriotism to Louis, then disprove your patriotism to England. Did you really have to return?"
"Of course I did James, wouldn't do for me to be out of France when it's on the point of another revolution."
"There won't be a revolution, Louis will stroll north to the Belgian frontier and Napoleon will stroll into Paris."
"You are sure of the outcomes, care to explain your reasoning?"
"Not for a month or too yet. I like my reasoning verified before I explain it to anyone." Jules grunted something that didn't sound polite, and with a grin Thomlin finished his ale and remounted Devil.
"I'll be seeing you around."
"I doubt it, you always avoided 'falutin' society before." Thomlin urged Devil to a canter and vanished down the street, leaving Jules to stare after him.
"M'sieur de la Voucher." Jules turned to see Pierre staring down a him.
"You missed James by about five seconds, sit down and have some ale?"
"I will and yes I saw him leave." Pierre sat down cautiously and stared blankly at the building across the road, leaving Jules to make any conversation he deemed necessary.
Chapter 43
Lydia was frowning darkly out the sitting room window when Elizabeth came into the room.
"Lydia?" Lydia turned sharply when Elizabeth spoke, but the frown did not leave her features.
"Yes, what do you want?" Elizabeth paused, having never seen Lydia in this particular mood before, she was a trifle unsure of how to proceed.
"We have an invitation from the Worth's to go have afternoon tea...."
"I can't make it." Lydia turned her gaze back to the window.
"Lydia what is wrong? We've only been here for two months...."
"Lizzie we are headed directly for war, and never have I just had to sit around and watch a war develop." Elizabeth stepped back at Lydia's frustrated tones. Lydia shook her head. "I'm sorry Lizzie. This waiting is getting to me." She walked past Elizabeth and over to the door. "Give my apologies to the Worth's, say I'm indisposed if necessary, I'll be back for dinner." And Lydia vanished out the door, leaving Elizabeth staring after in total bewilderment. She had seen Lydia in many mental conditions, she had seen Lydia in a totally irrational rage, but never had it been this almost defeated frustration. Elizabeth turned and walked slowly towards the door, she didn't actually know what she was going to do, but with things so unsettled, she was not feeling socially inclined. About an hour later she finally stopped meandering aimlessly around the room and went to change, she had promised Judith that she would come help with the nursing post, and wandering aimlessly around the room wasn't going to help her. But what she found in the bedroom didn't help her, it was with a muffled shriek that she realised that a man was sitting on the bed.
"Mrs. Darcy."
"Who are you?" Elizabeth backed into the door and took a firm grip on the knob. "And what are you doing?"
"I believe that I am sitting on your bed." Elizabeth frowned, possibly she would have found, under any other circumstances, the remark amusing. But at that present moment she was not in the mood for it.
"What do you want?"
"I want to speak to your sister Lydia."
"You can't, she's indisposed."
"Then I'll go pay a visit without your permission." Elizabeth hastily jumped away from the door as she felt the handle twist under her fingers.
"I thought I heard you scream, is everything al....." Mr. Darcy paused and looked thoughtfully at the man who was still seated on the bed. "I perceive that everything is not alright. What are you doing on my wife's bed?"
"Well I could say that I was waiting for the normal occupant to join me, but that would be a lie. I am sitting on your wife's bed."
"And what do you want?"
"I wish to speak to your sister-in-law." Darcy cast a brief glance at Elizabeth.
"Don't worry Lizzie, I expect he came in via the window. Where's Lydia?" Elizabeth paused for a moment.
"She went out about an hour ago, but said she'd be back for dinner."
"How did she go?" Elizabeth glanced back at the man, who was attired in a very ugly olive green coat and stained, military issue, riding breeches.
"I think she took Beau, but I cannot be sure." Darcy frowned as Elizabeth referred to Lydia's very large gray.
"Why did you not tell me she had gone out, I needed a letter delivered to the Worth's."
"Who are you?" Elizabeth all but ignored Mr. Darcy's comment as she looked back at the man, he finally got of the bed.
"My name is the honourable Lord James Thomlin, Viscount Dearling, and if you'll excuse me, I need to depart immediately." Elizabeth watched in disapproval as Thomlin climbed easily out the window and vanished from view. It was only Darcy's firm hand which stayed her from going to watch his downward descent.
"I expect he probably went up, Elizabeth. Also, I highly doubt he will return."
"He frightens me Fitzwilliam." Darcy looked down at his wife, and realised that he had a problem on his hands, and it was not going to be an easy one to deal with.
"I am not surprised, he should frighten everyone."
Grant kicked his chair back and stared restlessly up at the ceiling of the small room, what to make of this present problem he did not know, but it was the reliability of the information he was concerned about, not the source.
"Jack." Jack shambled into the room.
"52's here to see you." Grant nodded, then indicated the pile of paper that had been steadily growing over the past month and a half.
"Have we still no lead on where these have come from?"
"No. and 16 has not reported back since he left." Grant grunted in dissatisfaction.
"What of Miss Lydia?"
"Nothing since she arrived in Brussels, but neither have you given her an assignment." Grant nodded slowly, and fell back to his perusal of the pile of documents.
"We are dealing with a serious leak here Jack, a serious leak indeed..." as Grant's voice faded into an indistinct mumble, Jack took his leave and vanished out of the room, when Grant talked to himself, it made sense to nobody, Jack suspected that it probably wouldn't even make sense to Grant if he were to hear it.
"Jack?" Jack spun to see a once familiar, slight form standing in the doorway.
"Come in Leon, I expect he'll see you immediately. Give me a second to verify." Jack vanished back the way he had come, leaving Lydia to take a cautious seat and stare thoughtfully around the small, heavily raftered room, why was it that Grant's headquarters invariably ended up as small dingy abode out in the middle of nowhere. Admittedly this did have its advantages, but it still made Lydia curious. "He'll see you." Jack reappeared and Lydia hastily followed him out of the room.
The black trotted easily over the turf, the reigns lay slack and the rider posted smoothly, scribbling on some paper as he went, a quick glance and some more scribbling. It wasn't until the drum of approaching hoofs became fairly loud that the paper vanished into a pocket and was exchanged for a small pistol. The rider glanced in the direction of the approaching sound, a large gray was pounding over the turf towards him, and the rider held a large muzzleloader in his free hand. Thomlin hurriedly returned the pistol to his pocket, when a big name in the army comes galloping towards you with a muzzle-loader, it is advisable to show nothing but the most generous hospitality. Especially when you are in a restricted zone and the perimeter guards are not aware of your presence.
"Hoy! You there, hold it afore I blow your head off." Thomlin touched Devil, he was not keen to remain directly in front of that muzzleloader. "I said keep still." Thomlin grimaced and touched Devil again. Devil stopped his slow sidle and the General pulled up ten yards away.
"Good afternoon, sir." Thomlin saluted, as the General eyed him warily.
"What are you doing here?"
"James Thomlin, I'm testing your security....which is now much better than it was five minutes ago." The General grunted and looked suspiciously at Thomlin.
"So the rumours were right."
"What rumours?"
"Oh, that you were tied up in the intelligence business."
"Intelligence?!" Thomlin stared in amazement. "Heavens man! This is only security, I'd have probably blasted your head off if I was intelligence."
"Okay, well you've got to leave, this is a restricted zone."
"Very good, sir." Thomlin saluted again and turning Devil he trotted back the way he had come.
Chapter 44
Lydia walked quietly into the house, having left Beau at the stable down the road, and slowly up the stairs.
"Lydia?"
"Yes, Lizzie." Elizabeth appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Lord Thomlin...called to see you earlier."
"Come through the window again did he. Tell him it's a damn bad habit next time you see him."
"Lydia!" Lydia glanced up guiltily.
"Sorry Lizzie, I'm a bit more tired than I thought. Do permit me to change, the servants will have hysterics if they see me dressed like this." Elizabeth followed Lydia into her room.
"Where did you go Lydia?"
"Well Lydia actually never left the house, as for where I went. Well there and back to see how far it was."
"That's not an answer."
"It wasn't meant to be." Lydia vanished into the wardrobe, leaving Elizabeth to stare at the blank walls in Lydia's room.
"Lydia, have you ever had a decoration in your room?"
"Yes." Lydia's response was slightly muffled. "Just not here, didn't have enough space for it."
"Why not?"
"Lizzie! I had a single trunk, and there is a limit to what you can stuff into one trunk."
"But why not bring another trunk, we had more than enough room."
"Lizzie, you misunderstand me." Lydia stepped out of the wardrobe and straightened her dress before walking to the mirror and frowning at Leon's neatly fastened brown hair.
"How do you do that Lydia?" Lydia turned away from her inspection for a minute.
"The main difference is in what I do with the hair around my face. Pass me the curling irons Lizzie." Elizabeth watched as Lydia freed the shoulder-length hair and started brushing it vigorously. Then there were a few carefully placed curls, and what had once been straight shoulder length hair, now was piled high and looked like straight waist length hair. Then the face around her hair was carefully curled and positioned, and Lydia turned to drop a curtsey to her sister. "La Lizzie, you do look serious. Do you not like this gown of mine?" Lydia spun around, and Elizabeth had to bite back a laugh.
"Indeed it is quite nice Lydia, but come, we are having a private dinner with the Worth's tonight. Do you know why Lord Thomlin called, Lydia?"
"No, but I have my suspicions, and no I am not going to tell you what they are." Elizabeth frowned then motioned Lydia to precede her down the stairs.
"Why not?" Lydia stopped and looked back up at Elizabeth.
"Because dear sister, they are a sight more horrible then I wish to think of." Lydia started giggling almost hysterically. "La, but you should see your face Lizzie, so sober you have become, why I remember when...."
"That's enough Lydia." Elizabeth started hurriedly pushing Lydia down the stairs as Mr. Darcy appeared at the top.
"Ready to go yet Elizabeth?"
"Yes we are indeed. Lydia and I will be waiting in the parlour."
"But Lizzie...."
"Yes Lydia, now be quiet, or you won't come at all. And Colonel Fitzwilliam is to be there."
"The Colonel!" Lydia practically flew down to the parlour. "Lizzie, you have answered all my dreams. I wonder if he'll take me to dinner." Lydia patted her curls worriedly.
"Lydia, it is possible that Colonel Audley will not arrive 'til late. He does have work to complete."
"Stuff, Lizzie. He would never dare to work late if he knew I was to be there." Elizabeth watched in amused bewilderment as Lydia floated and fussed around the room, it appeared that Lydia of Longbourn had returned, and Elizabeth was more than a little curious to know why.
Judith looked up from her stitchery as Colonel Audley came charging into the room.
"Oh, there you are Judith. Julian told me to talk to you if I wanted to do anything of any interest to anybody."
"Well you could take young Julian out for the afternoon."
"I'm sure Viscount Temperley would much prefer that I did not take him for a walk, after all I'm only a colonel. No it was in actual fact, we have a visitor, and an unwelcome one, at headquarters at present, and as it is my evening off I got saddled with his entertainment." Judith looked at Audley in resignation.
"I take it that this sudden politeness to me is because I am having a private dinner party this evening?" Judith smiled at Audley's sudden confusion.
"Are you? Could I please bring him Judith. I would so hate to miss one of your quiet dinner parties, and I'm sure that our visitor would enjoy the company...especially if the Darcys are on you list as they usually are." Judith frowned speculatively at Audley.
"What did Julian say when you proposed this to him?"
"Well one burst into tears, and the other grunted at me, then told me to come ask you."
"I think I'll follow the lead of the first Julian. You, my dear Charles, are going to be the one who informs cook that our numbers have increased by one. Why are you so sure he'll enjoy the company if Darcys come, and why are you so eager to get him in a group?"
"Call it gut feeling if you like. Judith, if you don't mind, I'll go warn the cook about the increase in diners." Audley let himself hurriedly out of the room, and wiped a hand over his brow. Thank goodness the Darcys were coming. With Lydia there, it was entirely possible that the visitor would give more information than he received. But the best situation would be of course that he walked away with absolutely nothing at all though Audley had serious doubts about the possibility.
Thomlin glanced quietly at Francois, then back at the small dingy house that stood in front of them.
"Now don't forget your instructions, I need to be back in Brussels before five." Francois nodded nervously, then silently moved his horse off down the road. Thomlin remained concealed in the small clump of bushes. Devil was standing behind him, Thomlin managed on many occasions to do many things that the average person would have considered impossible, but he never fooled himself that he could do the impossible. And among the things he classified as impossible was getting from the ground to a second story window without the aid of either climbing irons, ivy or a horse.
Grant kicked his feet back and stared out at the mid afternoon sky, of a surety something was in the air, and Grant was willing to guarantee that that something probably had a lot to do with the current whereabouts of Napoleon and the 'Northern' Army. It was a softly clunk which caught Grant's attention, admittedly, it was not unusual to hear clunks in this place, perhaps it was the commonality of such clunks that caused this particular clunk to catch Grant's attention. With a jolt, Grant brought his feet to the floor and reached for his pistol. Not that it would be worth a damn if the intruder were worth his salt.
"Drop it." Grant cursed as the voice spoke from where he least expected it to be, then there was another clunk, and Grant realised that he must have at least two intruders. One who sounded like he was attempting to pass Jack and climb the stairs, and the other who now stood behind him.
"Why should I?" Grant turned slowly, hoping to get a look at the intruder.
"Just forget that idea, dump the pistol on the desk, and get your hands up. Or I'll take the pistol out of your hands for you." The voice was speaking softly, and was husked over, the owner had no wish to be identified. Grant dumped his pistol on the desk and slowly raised his hands. "That's good, now, I'm on the point of departure again, so remember. In twenty-four hours Napoleon's communications are going to fail. Wellington will then have forty-eight hours in which to win. I bid you good day." As the voice finished speaking, something exploded inside Grants head, and his last conscious thought was that his assumption had been accurate, there had indeed been two intruders.
Chapter 45
Elizabeth had to admit later, that that evening had been the most bewildering one she had ever had the pleasure to be part of. To say it was a success would be a lie....if you judged it by the usual standards. But if you judged it by humorous quality it had to have been the best evening ever had. Lydia had been the usual Lydia for the first hour, or until Colonel Audley and his companion arrived. Then the tone of the evening had rapidly disintegrated, it was not that Lydia was rude or embarrassing, it was more that you felt you would be embarrassed if it had been anyone but Lydia.
"What are you doing here?" Was Lydia's gracious greeting to the visitor.
"Staring at the wall." was the response, and the man was speaking the complete truth, for he was indeed staring at the wall.
"Judith, permit me to introduce James de Briceaux" Audley's voice had laughter in it for the first time in weeks.
"Please take a seat, we will have dinner in another fifteen minutes." Elizabeth glanced briefly at Briceaux, then at Darcy, who was frowning darkly across the room at the man.
"Colonel Audley, will you please come explain....the difference between a musket charge and a cavalry charge?" Lydia battered her eyelids enticingly.
"James here could explain it a lot better than I could, I suggest you ask him miss Lydia." Audley returned his attention to Judith as Lydia turned her attention to James de Briceaux.
"M'sieur, could you please explain to me?"
"Mademoiselle does not already know the difference?" de Briceaux sat down next to her and pulled some paper and a pencil from his pocket. "Well here, let me explain." Eizabeth almost laughed at the grimace Lydia pulled at the man's patronising accent, but then she could pay them no more attention as Darcy required her aid in a discussion he was holding with Worth. Fifteen minutes later the steward had announced that dinner was served. Through the entirety of dinner Lydia successfully ignored de Briceaux, for the most part. For she was talking to Audley, who sat on one side of her, and attempting to talk to Darcy, who sat on the other side of de Briceaux.
"Colonel Audley, it was most impolite of you to ignore me like that."
"Well I did say that James could explain it better than I could. Besides which, I'm worried if muskets start charging, they're unpredictable enough as it is."
"That does not answer my question."
"Well do you want the difference been French ones, or the difference between British ones, or do you want the difference between all of them. Or perhaps you'd prefer the Prussian ones. I know for a fact that de Briceaux can explain all of them."
"He can also probably give detailed description of all the private lives of the generals and what-nots as well." Lydia's tone was sarcastic in the extreme.
"I believe that it is highly likely that he can." Audley's voice was considering the point. "What say James?" James spread his hands but said nothing.
"What are rockets?"
"Nasties." Elizabeth turned as Judith choked over Audley's answer.
"What are they talking about?"
"I haven't the slightest idea, and what's more, I don't think we are meant to." Darcy's response was a soft whisper. "But I'm more than a little interested in de Briceaux's surname. That family died early on in the revolution...." Darcy never finished his sentence, and he was staring intently at James' outspread hands, but Elizabeth could not see what had caught is attention so fixedly, and returned to listening to the conversation, only to find that Lydia was petitioning for her support.
"...Don't you agree Lizzie?"
"I'm sorry Lydia, I wasn't listening. What am I meant to agree with?" Lydia looked surprised.
"I can't remember. Colonel Audley, do you remember what I was asking Lizzie to agree with?"
"No, I'm afraid I can't. James?"
"You wanted her agreement on the fact that British Scarlet was much more dashing then the French blue."
"So it was. My memory. Don't you agree Lizzie? I much prefer a man in Scarlet Regimentals. Particularly those of the Hussars and Life Guards."
"Hyde Park soldiers? Miss Lydia your memory is defective, they have too much silver lace on their uniforms."
"Not at all, Charles. 'Tis you Hussars who over do the silver lace department."
"We have a reputation to keep up, 'twouldn't do for Hussars not to be dressy."
"You are attached to the military m'sieur de Briceaux?"
"Not at all ma'am, haven't touched a musket in my life." Elizabeth saw Lydia mutter something under her breath to him, but she could not hear what it was.
"Well I will admit that I have. Rockets are one of the funniest inventions we have ever hit....except when they fail or backfire. Robbie swears that one of them turned completely around and chased him."
"Only the British would come up with such a singularly useless thing."
"James, you are too harsh on us, The majority of the rockets fired scare the he..." Audley caught himself and flushed a trifle. "scare the wits out of the French cavalry horses."
"I would prefer we did not discuss this subject. Elizabeth, are you coming to the Richmonds ball tonight?" Elizabeth nodded, after a brief glance at Darcy.
"We were intending to..."
"Good, I'll see you there then."
Grant sat up with a groan and rubbed his head gently, he had a very low feeling that there was something he should remember.
"Who was they?"
"I haven't the slightest idea Jack. Why did you not warn me we had visitors?" Jack looked aggrieved.
"'E was hopping about like a hoppergrass, demanding to see you, said 'is name was Francois. Thens when I turned, he wopped me one on the back of me 'ead."
"Your aitches are deteriorating Jack. A hoppergrass called Francois was it. I wonder..." Grant promptly rifled through a pile of nearby papers, which he had neglected to return to their usual hide out.
"What did they want with you?"
"To tell me in twenty-four hours that Napoleon was going to lose his communications for most of forty-eight hours, but I currently have my doubts." Grant gave a grunt of satisfaction as he found the paper he was looking for. "But then maybe we can trust it after all. Jack, send 18 to my brother with this dispatch I'm about to write. Then you hop it to Brussels, I'll follow in an hour." Jack nodded and vanished out the door, leaving Grant to write the dispatch for his brother. 52 had verified the mysterious bundle of papers that morning and the lot had been sent off, now there was this latest bit of information. As Grant finished writing, Jack reappeared with 18 in tow. 18 took the dispatch silently, and vanished silently out of the room, leaving Jack with Grant.
"Sir, what's going on?"
"I haven't the slightest idea, or at least I do, but it is not at all practical so I won't tell you about it." Grant fell back to his inspection of the ceiling as Jack left the room again. "I wonder whether that was his purpose, or is someone deliberately trying to fool us. Maybe it was him, and he is trying to fool us." With a sigh Grant brought his attention down from the ceiling and lit the fire in the hearth, it was a pity to burn all this stuff, but at the same time, he couldn't cart it all to Brussels with him. An hour later the job was done and Grant was riding swiftly towards Brussels.
Elizabeth hustled into her ball gown, then sat quietly while Louise did her hair up. One hour and a couple of satisfied glances later Elizabeth descended the stairs to find Darcy standing alone in the parlour.
"What of Lydia?"
"She said she'd be down in five minutes. This evening could prove very interesting."
"It could also prove embarrassing." Elizabeth calmly took her seat and picked up a novel leafing through it in an uninterested style.
"Sorry to keep you waiting." Elizabeth looked up, but her expression soon became horrified, for it was not Lydia who stood at the door, but Leon, Leon with a limp.
"L.." Elizabeth's protest got no further as the Butler at that entered the room.
"M'sieur James de Biceaux to see you." The man followed hard upon the butler's heels.
"Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Darcy, Leon. I do apologize for this intrusion, but there is a slight problem that I need to talk to Leon about." Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest again, but Leon calmly spoke up, ignoring Elizabeth.
"Certainly, m'sieur. Darcy, if we may be permitted to borrow your library for a minute?" Darcy nodded his head in silence and then watched as Leon escorted m'sieur de Biceaux from the room.
"Is there no way I can get direct contact with Wellington?" Leon turned calmly to face him.
"Short of introducing yourself at tonight's ball, I doubt it. What's got the wind up you?"
"The fact that Napoleon has marched. If Wellington doesn't move soon, you'll be totally routed no matter what Wellington does."
"Well since Audley is very well aware of who you truly are, I doubt you'll get within speaking distance." Leon frowned thoughtfully. "Have you seen Grant?"
"This afternoon, Francois hit him over the head so we could get away without being detained."
"Not a very friendly thing to do, but if you left anything like you left the visit before, I'm sure he'll manage to forgive you."
"I know he will, but I also hope he is currently riding hell for leather towards Brussels. Get in touch with Wellington if you can, I'll be damned if I lose my head for a lost cause." Leon's mouth was slightly agape as Thomlin virtually stormed out of the room, the front door banged and it was Lydia who collapsed into Darcy's large chair.
"Dear god, what is happening." Never had Lydia had such a feeling of dread as she had at that moment.
"Leon?" Lydia took a deep breath and attached a smile to her face before she looked up at Elizabeth. "We heard m'sieur de Biceaux depart, are you alright?"
"Yes thank you, Lizzie, but I think we must be going."
Chapter 46
When the Darcy party entered, the room was already crowded, the air smoky and thick. In the corner a dance orchestra scraped industriously.
"Elizabeth!" Elizabeth turned to see Judith hurrying over, a small, brown haired, but pretty girl followed her. "Allow me to introduce Lucy to you. Lucy this is mrs Darcy. But Lizzie, you missed the hit of the ball. They had the pipers and some privates from the 42nd in to play and dance earlier. What delayed you?"
"Lydia took sick. Then my cousin Leon just appeared on the door step, we were meant to arrive half an hour ago."
"Your cousin Leon?" Leon turned at the mention of his name and limped up.
"Good evening."
"Judith permit me to introduce my cousin Leon Bennet to you. Leon, this is Judith, Countess of Worth."
"I greet you Lady Worth. If it weren't for my leg I'd request a dance, alas my have my leg." Leon grinned engagingly, then limped slowly towards a nearby alcove.
"What happened to him?"
"An anchylosed knee joint we were told. He is quite engaging most of the time." Leon limped slowly around the room, inspecting every room he came to. The first was a card room, as was the second and third, in the fourth was an amourous and slightly intoxicated gentleman, who Lady Barbara Childe was more than capable of dealing with, Leon chose not to interfere, and continued on looking for more congenial company.
"M'sieur Leon?" Leon turned to find himself confronted by the singularly beautiful Lady Barbara Childe.
"Indeed it is Babs, who was the courtier you have just left?"
"Sir Phillip someone or other. What brings you away from England?"
"An interest in the events that are occuring here. I would not associate to much with Sir Phillip, he is apt to feel encouraged."
"Devil take it, must everyone sensor my conduct?" Babs scowled blackly.
"I was giving advice, not censoring conduct. I am really the worst person to even consider censoring someone else's conduct. I heared you got engaged?"
"Well I also broke it off. Care to dance Leon?"
"Here is he? No thankyou Babs, I never dance, and even if I did I'm more likely to embarrass you and make the fellow pity you." Babs snorted inelegantly.
"Not very likely. Okay, escort me to my brother George then, I am bored, and Etienne is dancing."
"Well make sure he asks you for the next dance. Now if you'll excuse me, I just saw Audley." Babs' response was lost in the general noise and Leon hurridly threaded over to where Audley stood with Robert Munroe.
"I beg your pardon!" Leon spun to find himself looking into the irritated eyes of a man, and his sole impression was of black whiskers and teeth.
"I do beg your pardon, sir. I had not seen you."
"You better beg it!" The man moved off into the crowd leaving Leon to crease his brows in concerntration.
"What did the Compte want with you?" Leon spun to see Audley and Munroe standing at his elbow.
"I do not actually know, he seemed mad though. Colonel Audley?"
"Ye-e-s!"
"My name is Leon Bennet, I was wondering if I might be able to talk to you in private for a minute?" Audley stared down at the slight figure for a minute, then turned to Munroe.
"If you'll excuse me Bobby. You can be my second if I need it." Munroe's response was a laugh, and Leon was soon following Audley to a secluded morning room. "I take it I have done nothing to offend?"
"Not at all, sir." Leon paused. "But I have need to talk to Wellington." Audley's eyes promptly narrowed.
"Why do you wish to talk to him?"
"It is a matter of importance concerning Napoleon's current movements." Audley opened his mouth to reply when there was a pounding on the door. Audley stopped and walked over to the door which he opened a crack, there was a hurried exchange, then Audley closed the door again and rejoined Leon.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Leon Bennet."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"It's the only answer you're going to get. If you weren't just told, Napoleon marched this morning."
"How do you know that?"
"The same way that most of the people who do know, know. I was told by a reliable source."
"Who was your source?"
"That is..." Leon stopped as the door swung open and a man came in on a run.
"Miss Lydia, you're needed urgently."
"Where?"
"It's Grant. He wouldn't say more, but he is not hurt. He's back at your place."
"I'll get Lizzie and mr Darcy. Tell Grant I'm coming as soon as I can get back." Jack nodded and left the room again.
"If you'd prefer I can escort you, I was about to return to headquarters." Leon glanced up at Audley.
"Hurry then, I leave the minute I've found either mr Darcy or Lizzie, and I won't wait." Leon immediately limped hurridly out of the room, cautiously weaving his way through the crowd, before climbing the stairs to check out the upperstory. Audley spent a moment getting his coat, then chased Judith to earth.
"Judith, I can't find Worth, but I'm leaving immediately." Audley promptly headed down the stairs and caught Leon on his way out the door. Outside the air was refreshingly cool after the mugginess of the ballroom. They walked swiftly, and silently towards the Darcy residence. Grant was waiting on the front doorstep for her. Audley saluted briefly, then vanished down the street, leaving Grant to hurry Lydia into the house.
"You have a visitor, and the matter could be important, he won't tell us what is going on."
"Who is it?"
"Francois, and Pierre to be precise, though Francois is not actually in the house, apparently he is waiting outside the house." A horn was blown and slowly the noise increased, at last the Allied Army was leaving Brussels and marching towards battle. Lydia entered the house and after a seconds hesitation she headed for Elizabeth's room, sure enough Pierre was seated on Elizabeth's bed.
"What is it you have with my sister's room? Off Pierre, we are going downstairs before anything is discussed." Lydia then turned and marched down the stairs again. Not another word was said until they were in Darcy's library. "Okay, what are you doing here?"
"Master James has vanished, we can't find him."
"When did you last see him?"
"Well it was Francois who last saw him, and that was back when they visited Grant's headquarters. He sent Francois away then came here. But we can't find a thing about him."
"Well I last saw him two hours ago. I take it you haven't seen him in a while, Grant?"
"Well I saw him this afternoon, but did not reckognise him. When did you see him, miss Lydia?"
"Just before we left for the ball. He was hopping mad because the army had not marched."
"Mon Dieu!" Pierre was out of his chair and pacing the room, shaking his shaggy hair in a gesture of dispair. "We are too late, much too late."
"We're not to late for at least another day yet. Don't be stupid Pierre, and SIT DOWN!" Lydia's agravated tone caused both men to jump, and then Pierre sat down.
"Too late for what?"
"Well if you don't know, your main information source was Thomlin. He'll probably blow his brains out when all this is over....Unless he can be distracted first. Grant, go find Francois, he should be somewhere out the back. Tell him to prepare for a trip to Austria. Pierre you are now going to learn how to read a map. Grant, any news of the battle is to be sent to a place Elizabeth knows in Austria. Now move." Lydia pulled a map out from behind the bookcase and handed it to Pierre. "I want you to mark every safe stopping place between here and the Austrian border. I need to go pack." Lydia vanished out of the room and took the stairs on the run.
Chapter 47
Elizabeth searched the crowded rooms hurriedly, looking for Darcy. Lydia had just left, escorted by Colonel Audley, and Elizabeth was most certainly not going to remain at the ball when they were on the verge of a war, and her sister was gallivanting around the place dressed as a man.
"Elizabeth?" Elizabeth spun to see, Darcy standing behind her. "Not here, tell me later when we are outside." Darcy took a firm grip on Elizabeth's arm and swiftly led her to collect their coats, then outside. Soon the carriage rolled up, and Darcy handed Elizabeth up, before he climbed aboard himself. Immediately the coach moved off, and finally Darcy turned to Elizabeth. "What is it?"
"It's Lydia."
"Where is she?"
"She said she was going home...Was escorted by Colonel Audley...Something about trouble." Darcy listened with a creased brow to Elizabeth's disconnected sentences.
"Did she say what the problem was?"
"No. Just that it was important." Darcy's frown darkened, but he wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders.
"I am not sure my Elizabeth, but there is a possibility that we will not be welcome."
"Well they can't refuse us entrance to our own house. I need to speak to Lydia."
"Elizabeth..." Darcy stopped again, he had nothing to back his hunch, and he doubted that Elizabeth would listen anyway. Elizabeth was staring out the window, drums beat loudly, there were yells and curses, orders and men flew. Kits were packed, horses loaded, and then slowly a group would start to march out, whistling or singing as they went. Five minutes later the carriage drew up outside the house, blockages had extended the usually brief trip, and Elizabeth was instantly out of the carriage and running up the steps. Darcy gave his orders concerning the housing of the carriage, then turned and followed Elizabeth into the house. The lower floor seemed completely deserted, the second floor yielded Elizabeth who was almost angrily watching as Lydia checked and primed some pistols and shoved numerous oddments into saddlebags. The soft pad of approaching footsteps caused Darcy to turn, he frowned at Pierre who was walking slowly along the passage.
"Miss Lydia! I's done it, what now?"
"I haven't the slightest idea. Lizzie! stop scowling, you're distracting me. Go find yourself a corner Pierre, I'll be down in a minute." Pierre nodded and headed back down the stairs.
"Elizabeth." Darcy called softly, and found Elizabeth's scowl was now directed at him, Darcy simply beckoned. After a brief hesitation Elizabeth turned and followed Darcy down the stairs and into his library, which Pierre was already occupying, his brow creased while he stared at a map. Darcy turned, preparing to go to the parlour when Pierre glanced up.
"Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy. Please let her go." Darcy paused, then stepped back into the room and closed the door firmly behind himself and Elizabeth.
"But why?"
"Elizabeth! Allow m'sieur Pierre explain himself." Elizabeth turned angrily on Darcy.
"But she's my sister!"
"Elizabeth." Darcy watched as the anger slowly faded out of Elizabeth, leaving only fear and sadness. Elizabeth was deadly afraid for her sister, and she was almost afraid to admit to herself how afraid she was for her sister.
"M'sieur Pierre, if you could possibly explain this to us. And please start at the beginning, we know nothing of what you do, and we are unwilling for fairly obvious reasons to just let her go." Pierre stared gravely up at Darcy and Elizabeth from his seat on Mr. Darcy's desk.
"Very well m'sieur. My name is Pierre, Francois waits with horses out the back. As you are well aware the allied army has marched, the battle will commence before tomorrow evening. Francois and I have worked for m'sieur James now for close on eighteen years, I have worked a couple years above and beyond Francois for m'sieur James. We know m'sieur James as well as anyone in this world, with the exception of m'sieur Leon de la Chatelet. M'sieur de la Chatelet knew m'sieur James as a boy, which automatically puts him above everyone for understanding m'sieur James." Pierre paused, obviously searching for words. "Tonight we race against time, for a life. That life we cannot save without your sister's aid, and without that aid, much trouble will there be."
"Why is that m'sieur Pierre?" Pierre looked gravely back at his audience.
"For the work m'sieur James does, he needs much information. Francois and I, we only know some of his sources of that information. M'sieur Etienne knows some we do not know, and there are others whom we do not know who know of some of his sources. Only m'sieur James knows all the sources, if m'sieur James goes without closing things down much trouble will there be, trouble everywhere." Elizabeth could not say why, but Pierre was frightening her.
"But this does not explain why you need Lydia."
"It is not easy to explain. M'sieur James, he is an...an..." Pierre stopped totally lost for words. "Not of the normal class in our area. He..." Pierre paused again.
"Has a conscience. Pierre I'll be back in a minute, I have to go speak to Grant for a minute." Pierre nodded, the door banged as Leon ran from the room again.
"As Miss Lydia says, he has conscience. Most of the time that is good, others times...not so good. Now, it is bad, very bad."
"But what good will Lydia do? Surely you'd be better for him than Lydia since you know him?"
"No, m'sieur James, he no listen to Francois or Pierre, it always be 'Go away, I's busy' and we go. M'sieur James, he listens to miss Lydia."
"But what is his problem, why is it so necessary he listens to someone?"
"He been most trusted man for Napoleon since...since Napoleon go anywhere. This battle, m'sieur James he no like Napoleon's motives. They are for French empire, m'sieur James he fight for freedom. Please Mrs. Darcy, let her go, we need her. She won't do the best job if she has you fighting and angry over her departure."
"But..."
"Lizzie, there is someone out there who needs Lydia more than we do. In all probability a life hangs on your decision."
"But it's not fair, she's only just come to us."
"Lizzie, she can come back. Do you distrust Lydia's judgement so much?" Elizabeth slowly shook her head, then stood up, simultaneously Leon re-entered the room, Darcy fought a grin as Elizabeth flinched at Lydia's breeches and coat.
"Pierre we can go as soon as you are ready. Mr. Darcy, I thank you for your hospitality these last couple of months. Elizabeth..." Lydia stopped, and stared at her feet, and Elizabeth suddenly realised what could happen if she didn't willingly let Lydia go.
"Fitzwilliam, m'sieur Pierre, if you will excuse us for a minute?" Darcy gave a simple nod in reply and escorted Pierre from the room, leaving Elizabeth and Lydia to sort things out between themselves. Elizabeth frowned, for Lydia had not even taken her eyes from her boot tops. "Do you love him Lydia?" That brought Lydia's eyes up.
"Currently I would have to say no, not in that way. But I would and have trusted him with my life."
"What do you mean by that?"
"James is a collector. His job is to kill people like me whom become too successful. I should have died twice last winter."
"Lydia! You knew this?"
"For me not to know would be stupid, for me to panic about it would be a waste of energy. In this business you live with death at your elbow, either it he becomes a friend, or you go crazy."
"Will you come back Lydia?"
"I'll try, but honestly I can guarantee nothing, I could just be walking into an immensely complex and well laid trap." Elizabeth nodded resignedly.
"Go Lydia, do your best and I wish you luck."
"Thank you Lizzie!" Elizabeth was startled by a quick hug, then Lydia was gone. A door banged, then Lydia was really gone.
"Elizabeth?" Elizabeth spun as Darcy spoke softly from behind her.
"She's gone Fitzwilliam!" Quietly Darcy wrapped his arms around Elizabeth.
"Well you have at least one thing to be thankful for if she does not return."
"What's that?" Elizabeth looked up from where she had buried her face in his chest.
"At least you met her." Elizabeth reburied her face.
"At least I met her."
The End.