Lady Beneath the Veil(43)

* * *

The sun had set on a cloudless May day when Gideon drove on to  Hampstead Heath. He stopped his curricle behind a closed carriage, from  which a sober-looking gentleman in a bagwig was emerging, carrying a  leather bag.

'So we have a surgeon on hand, in any event,' he remarked cheerfully.

'Are you sure this is wise?' murmured Ribblestone.

'No, but it is necessary. I should have done it a year ago, rather than  forcing Dominique to go on with a marriage that was none of her  choosing.' He looked up as he heard another carriage approaching.  'Here's Martlesham now, with Carstairs as his second. Let us finish  this.'

* * *

Gideon talked to the doctor while Ribblestone conferred with Mr  Carstairs. They inspected the duelling pistols-a pair provided by  Anthony that Gideon had practised with on several occasions-then the  combatants took their places. The light was fading fast and a cold wind  had blown up. The white handkerchief fluttered and fell. Gideon's arm  jerked up and he fired, seeing a simultaneous flash from the other gun.  Martlesham collapsed with a yell and Gideon stood for a moment while his  brain ascertained that he had taken no hurt himself. Tossing the pistol  back to Ribblestone, he strode off towards the curricle.

'Very neatly expedited,' said Anthony, stowing the box containing the  pistols beneath the seat and scrambling up. 'And he is not dead, so you  needn't flee the country.'

Gideon set the team in motion, glancing back just once as they drove  away. Max was being helped into his carriage by Carstairs and the  doctor.

'I never intended to kill him. The bullet in his shoulder is nothing to  the pain he will suffer tomorrow when the bank informs him that he no  longer has any hope of touching Rainault's fortune. Dominique and her  mother will soon have control of that.'

'And if he had hit you?'

Gideon gave a grim smile.

'Max has been drinking all day and in this light he had little chance of hitting a house, let alone a man.'

'What now?' asked Ribblestone as they hurtled through the gathering gloom.

'Back to Chalcots for a change of horses and supper, then off to Rotham.'

Anthony sat up. 'Tonight? But it's fifty miles!'

'What of it? The moon will be up and I know the road.'

'So you plan to arrive at the crack of dawn, unwashed and unshaven. That is sure to endear you to your wife.'

The jibe hit home.

'Very well, we will stop on the road for breakfast and a change of  neckcloth. Will that suit you? Damn it all, man, do not expect me to  wait until the morning to set out, for there is no possibility of my  sleeping tonight.' He glanced at Anthony. 'I want to see Dominique as  soon as may be and put things right. What about you?'

What I want,' said Anthony, with unwonted savagery, 'is to wring Gwen's damned neck!'

* * *

The Ribblestone carriage arrived at Rotham shortly before ten o'clock,  by the light of the rising moon. It had taken some time to pack up  everything Dominique thought it necessary to take with them into  Buckinghamshire and they had also broken their journey in order for  little James to be fed in comfort, rather than in the jolting carriage.  The viscount's household was thrown into a panic by the sudden arrival  of the two ladies, together with the baby, his nurse and Mrs Albury's  maid, but Lord Rotham took one look at Dominque's stricken countenance  and immediately gave orders for rooms to be prepared with all haste.  Then he carried Dominique and Gwendoline off to the drawing room, where  the whole story came pouring out.

'I cannot believe this of Gideon.' Lord Rotham looked a question at Gwen, who shrugged, but it was Dominique who answered him.                       
       
           



       

'He t-told me, assured me, he had no intention of seeing her, after we  met by chance at the theatre.' She pulled her damp handkerchief between  her fingers. 'And then to discover him driving through town with her-'

The viscount shook his head.

'My son has many faults,' he said heavily, 'but I had not thought this of him.'

'I wanted to wait and see what Gideon had to say for himself,' put in Gwendoline, 'but Dominique was desperate to get away.'

'I c-could not stay in that house,' cried Dominique, jumping up. 'Not there, where we-where we...'

Her voice was suspended. She hid her face in her hands, feeling the hot  tears leaking between her fingers. Gwen put an arm around her and  gently eased her back on to the sofa.

'Hush now, love. You are overwrought, and tired, too, I shouldn't wonder.'

'Yes, of course. So foolish of me.' Dominique wiped her eyes. 'I beg  your pardon. And yours, too, my lord, for descending upon you in this  way, b-but I could not think where else to go.'

His smile was kindness itself.

'Where else should you go? You are my son's wife, the mother of his  child. My grandson. You may remain here for as long as you wish.'

'And-and Gideon?'

'He will no doubt arrive here shortly, and when he does he may give his  version of events. We may yet find there is a reasonable explanation.'  Dominique shook her head and he continued, 'Well, let us wait and see  what the morning brings. For now I suggest you should take a little  supper and go to bed. I have also given orders for your old room to be  prepared for you, Gwendoline. It is too late for you to be going to  Fairlawns.'

'Thank you, Papa, but I do not want to burden you. Mrs Ellis mentioned another visitor-'

'Yes, Mr Rogers arrived earlier, but that need not concern you tonight.'

* * *

Gently but firmly he shepherded them into the care of the kindly  housekeeper, who took them off to the oak parlour and plied them with  hot soup and bread and butter. Dominique managed to force down a few  mouthfuls before retiring to her room. Unhappiness wrapped itself around  her like a cloak, but she was so bone-weary that thankfully, almost as  soon as she slid between the warmed sheets, she was asleep.

* * *

Dominique awoke early the following morning, but was in no mood for  company, so she spent an hour with little James before making her way  downstairs to the breakfast room. Gwendoline and the viscount were  already seated there, together with a gentleman in a brown wig and plain  brown coat.

'Mr Rogers.' She greeted him as cheerfully as she could. 'I am very glad to see you, sir.'

'And I you, Mrs Albury,' he returned. 'Especially so, since my business with the viscount concerns you.'

Her worries were momentarily forgotten. 'You have news of my father?'

'Pray do not raise your hopes too high,' Lord Rotham warned her. 'We should discuss this in my study after breakfast.'

'Oh, please tell me now,' she begged him. 'I cannot bear for you to  keep me in suspense-and I am sure there can be nothing that Gwendoline  should not hear.' She laid a hand on her father-in-law's arm, saying  again, 'Pray, my lord, tell me now. Any news will be welcome after all  these years.'

'First let me pour you a little coffee,' said Gwen, suiting the action  to the words. 'And take some bread and butter, Dominique. You may eat it  while Mr Rogers talks.'

The lawyer dabbed at his dry lips with the napkin.

'Well, if Lord Rotham has no objection...?' The viscount signalled to  him to continue and the lawyer twisted slightly in his chair to address  Dominique. 'I have information about your father, madam, and because it  is of such importance I thought it best to come in person to discuss it  with Lord Rotham.'

'Monsieur Rainault is alive!' cried Gwen, clapping her hands.

'Exactly, Lady Ribblestone. That is, he was still alive at the time of  the last communication,' amended Mr Rogers with typical lawyer's  caution. He turned again to Dominique. 'As you know, Lord Rotham took an  interest in this affair last year and he put me in touch with certain  parties in France, relatives of his late brother-in-law, the Duc du  Chailly. We have had to proceed very carefully. France is full of spies  ready to expose anyone they think wishes to overturn the new order.  However, with patience and perseverance we located your father. He was  being held in a remote prison under a false name. We can only surmise  that he assumed this identity in an effort to flee the country.'                       
       
           



       

'That explains why Maman's efforts to trace him failed,' said  Dominique, adding darkly, 'Those that were not thwarted by my cousin.'

'Quite.' Mr Rogers nodded. 'My last communication from France arrived  early Monday morning and I set off directly for Rotham. Our "friends" in  France secured your father's release, madam, but even then it was not  safe to make this information public. Your father's moderate views were  well known and would not be popular with the present government. I was  reluctant to apply for papers to bring your father from France as it  would alert the authorities.'

'Yes, yes, I quite see that,' said Dominique eagerly. 'So what can we do?'

'We will smuggle him into England,' the viscount told her. 'I shall  send a man to France to fetch him home to you.' He smiled. 'How we are  to achieve that is best kept a secret. Mr Rogers and I will go away now  to thrash out the details and leave you and Gwendoline to finish your  breakfast.'