Regency: Innocents & Intrigues. Helen Dickson

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      ‘Yes, some weeks ago. We expected you earlier than this.’

      ‘I did not come direct. The recent troubles make travelling difficult. I also had some matters of my own to take care of first.’

      ‘You have been in Paris?’

      ‘I have come from there.’

      ‘And are things as bad as they say?’

      He nodded grimly. ‘The rioting grows worse by the day. Nobles are fleeing the city—and France, if they can manage it without being apprehended.’

      ‘Then we can be thankful that we do not live in Paris, Sir Charles. So, Colonel Winston is no longer in India,’ she said, folding her hands in her lap, her thin-lipped mouth relaxing slightly.

      ‘No. He has been in England six months.’

      ‘And eager to reacquaint himself with Maria, he informed me. He feels that to delay the marriage would be unnecessary and harsh. You must know him well. He must think highly of you to entrust you with the responsibility of escorting his betrothed to England.’

      ‘We are not friends, Countess,’ Charles was quick to inform her—Henry Winston was an unsavoury character and not a man he would wish to count as one of his close associates. ‘We are—acquainted. No more than that.’

      ‘I see.’ The Countess studied him thoughtfully. ‘Do you disapprove of Colonel Winston?’

      ‘It’s not a matter of disapproval, Countess. Our meetings have been infrequent.’

      ‘And yet he asked you to escort Maria to England.’

      ‘For reasons of his own he was unable to come himself. I was coming to see my own family—my mother is French, from the south. Everyone in Britain is alarmed by the news that crosses the channel. I was concerned for my family.’

      ‘Your mother still lives in France?’

      ‘No. She married an Englishman—my father—and chose to remain in England when he died. Colonel Winston was worried that Miss Monkton might become caught up in the troubles and wanted her to get out. When he heard I was leaving for France, he approached me to ask if I would see her safely to England.’

      ‘And you agreed, without having met her.’

      ‘My father and Sir Edward Monkton were close friends for many years. They were in India together. I remember him as being a very fine and noble man. I also owe him a great, personal debt.’

      ‘Tell me.’

      ‘When I was a boy my mother and I were washed away while crossing a swollen river. Sir Edward came to our rescue, putting his own life at risk. Without his bravery I would not be here now. It is for that reason that I agreed to escort Miss Monkton to England. While in India I came into contact with Colonel Winston on numerous occasions. He made no secret of how Sir Edward had been easily manipulated into agreeing to his betrothal to Miss Monkton. It was a matter of great amusement to him. I feel under an obligation to protect Sir Edward’s daughter and I have made it my duty to try to stop her marrying Colonel Winston when the time comes. Will she have any objections to leaving France?’

      ‘Not at all,’ the Countess answered crisply. ‘All Maria talks about is going home and marrying the Colonel.’

      ‘She has not seen him for six years. She will find him much changed.’

      ‘As he will Maria. She is no longer a child.’

      ‘And you, Countess? Will you and your daughter not accompany us to England?’

      The Countess studied him for a moment in silence, contemplating his question and curious as to what had prompted him to ask. ‘Ah,’ she said, narrowing her eyes on him. ‘Would I be correct in assuming you are about to try to persuade me to leave my France?’

      Charles’s firm lips curved in a slight smile. ‘You are, Countess. I sincerely hope I will succeed. I would be happy to escort you and your daughter, along with Miss Monkton, to England. France is in great turmoil and every day things get worse. There is no organisation in the country, only chaos everywhere. I believe you are in mortal danger, and that you are at risk of your life—I would not like to be a noble in France now. Very soon you will find yourself alone and friendless, and prey to all kinds of dangers.’

      The Countess smiled thinly. ‘I think you exaggerate. I hear rumours—most of it nonsense, of course. My husband was of the opinion that the fear is spread to provoke disorder so that it will bring about anarchy. Rumours of conspiracy and crime, reports of disaster, spring up everywhere, both by word of mouth and by writing. It is the panic mongers you have to fear.’

      Charles’s expression tightened. ‘I shall hope very much to be proved wrong, but it seems—unlikely. I am staying at a local tavern and I hear things—that some of your own servants have run off and joined the people. The peasants are in such a state of revolt that they are ready to commit any crime. Indeed, in this very parish, they talk openly about setting fire to the chateau. I urge you, if you do not think of yourself, then think of your daughter.’

      The Countess raised her head imperiously and gave him a hard look. ‘Constance will remain here with me.’

      ‘Being English will not save you, Countess. English law cannot reach you here. You were the Count’s wife. The mob will not see beyond that.’

      ‘Are you saying that we should all leave immediately, that you think I need saving?’

      He nodded. ‘You must leave quickly. I took the liberty of having false travelling papers drawn up for that eventuality.’

      The Countess’s brows rose with surprise. ‘You did? How did you manage that?’

      Charles’s face remained closed. ‘I know the right people.’

      ‘I see. Well, I will not pry into the whys and wherefores, sir, of how these things are done, but I must tell you that you have wasted your time. But is it safe to travel? If there is danger, would it not be safer to stay here?’

      ‘There is no safety anywhere, least of all in the chateaus of France.’

      ‘No one would dare attack the chateau. I know the people hereabouts. They have always looked to us for their livelihood and they will continue to do so.’

      God give me strength, prayed Charles, setting his teeth. It was no use. She did not even now realise the magnitude of this terror that was overtaking them. He was tempted to ask—what livelihood would that be? The people you speak of are starving because of the likes of you and your exorbitant taxes, but instead he said calmly, as though reasoning with a fractious child, ‘Because of who you are, I urge you to flee the country.’

      ‘This is my home. I feel perfectly safe. I have no intention of—fleeing. If things do get worse then of course I shall consider leaving, but I am confident that they won’t.’

      A mildly tolerant smile touched Charles’s handsome visage, but the glint in the pale blue eyes was hard as steel. Could there be any greater display of contempt for the hardships the people were facing? While ordinary people had starvation staring them in the face day after day, the СКАЧАТЬ