“Jewels?” Alec repeated, uncomprehendingly.
“The ransom… Olivia’s jewelry,” Selina added, struggling to sit up. And when Alec mechanically helped her to be upright she thanked him, adding. “I don’t remember fainting. It must have been when the lead shot whizzed past… Alec, I’m cold.”
He did not at first hear her statement. He was staring hard at the glistening red mass nestled on her left breast, and trying to make sense of what he’d just been told and what he was looking at.
Olivia’s jewelry
?
Ransom
?
What had that to do with this
? And then the shock fell away, and with clarity of mind came clear vision. On closer inspection, and now that she was upright, he saw that the red mass had shifted, and that it was not a living thing at all. It was a ruby necklace spilling forth from a slit in a pocket within the damaged bodice. And that wasn’t the only piece of jewelry hidden amongst the cotton layers of her corset. The loop of a string of pearls was poking through from a slit, and there was the glint of something golden in there, too. If he wasn’t very much mistaken, Selina’s corset held a treasure trove of his godmother’s best jewels.
His sigh of relief was audible, and so was his intake of anger at the naïve duplicity of the two most important women in his life. How could Selina and Olivia do this to him? But he quickly quelled his feelings. What mattered was Selina’s welfare. Something about her being cold finally registered, and it was then he realized that she was practically naked from throat to waist. He took a swift glance around at their audience and one word from him had them turn away to look anywhere but at the table. He fixed on his valet.
“Jeffries, go through and shake the bed free of glass, and tidy up. Take Herr Visser. Between the two of you, you should be able to shift the stack of trunks up against the hole in the wall. That at least will help keep the frigid air out until the window can be boarded up. You,” he added to the guard by the shallow steps. “Find out what’s going on. And find your captain. Reverend? I trust your granddaughter is not injured, though I do not doubt she must be in shock at what she has just witnessed?”
“Sophie will be fine directly, my lord,” the Reverend Shirley replied, slightly distracted that his granddaughter kept tugging on his upturned cuff, insisting that he tell his lordship what she had witnessed while outside on the towpath. He signed to her, and they had a short conversation before he said aloud to Alec, “When you have a moment, at your earliest convenience, I need a word with your lordship. Of course, once Mrs. Jamison-Lewis is settled… It is of some importance, not unconnected with the tragic incident that saw the young soldier lose his life.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Alec replied, somewhat distracted himself, watching Evans adjust Selina’s cloak so that it now covered her irreparably damaged bodice and corset. “Are you all right?” he asked the lady’s maid. “There is blood on your petticoats… You are not injured?”
“Oh no, my lord. I think I told you, it’s the young soldier’s blood,” Evans replied, coming around to his side of the table. “I was standing on the other side of him when—He wasn’t much more than a boy, my lord,” she added, and then promptly burst into tears. But she quickly made a recover. “Forgive me. It must be the shock. That poor soldier…the near miss…I will be fine directly.”
Alec put an arm about her shaking shoulders, just as Jeffries poked his head around the curtain and gave a nod, the signal the room was as ready as it ever would be. Horst Visser held the curtain aside and waited.
“I’m going to carry your mistress through to my camp bed,” he said quietly to Evans. “She needs a change of clothes. I’ll have her trunk fetched. And once she’s settled, and you’ve both had a cup of tea, please empty that bodice of its contents. I have a strongbox. I suspect you’ll both feel better to be unburdened of such weight, and responsibility.”
Evans sighed her relief. “Yes, my lord. We will! And I must tell your lordship,” she continued, following behind Alec as he carried Selina through to his camp bed and gently set her down, “and I’m sorry for my disloyalty, m’lady, but I was very much against Her Grace’s perilous scheme from the off. I knew no good could come of it. There was the danger, of course, but my main concern was that the wearing of such a heavy bodice day in and day out would be laborious and had a detrimental affect on m’lady’s health.”
Selina gaped at her. “Evans! You never said a word!”
“I doubt that would have stopped you,” Alec muttered. And when she blushed guiltily, he gave her a chuck under the chin, to show he was no longer angry with the elaborate ruse she and the Duchess had effected.
“But now, on this day,” Evans continued ignoring her mistress, and addressing Alec exclusively. “I am very glad she was carrying all those jewels in her bodice, my lord, because if she hadn’t she might not now be with us, nor might your ba—”
“Janet!
Enough
,” Selina cut in before Evans could ruin her surprise, something she would share with Alec after they were married; it was to be her wedding present to him. “The shock has made you run on at the mouth. I am shaken but perfectly well—
all of me
is well.”
“Yes, of course you are,” Alec stated stridently, not because he didn’t enter into Evans’ feelings, but so their thoughts would not plunge into melancholy and recrimination given what they had just been through. And because he was intent on lightening the mood, he failed to pick up on either woman’s inference, but winked down at Selina and said to Evans with a lop-sided grin, though his tone was grim, “Don’t you worry, Janet. There’ll be no more harebrained scheming—well, not without my knowledge—once I make your mistress Marchioness Halsey, of that you can be assured!”
“I’m very glad to hear you say so, my lord,” Janet Evans answered primly, and with a mental grin of satisfaction turned away for fear his lordship would see her blush at his use of her Christian name.
Selina pouted, settling deeper under the folds of her fur-lined red woolen cape. It had nothing to do with the winter wind whistling through the destroyed window that now had a stack of trunks in front of it, but with an unease at being caught out by Alec, in carrying a king’s ransom upon her person, and keeping him in ignorance.
“Schemes?” she said petulantly, to hide her guilt. “Harebrained? Alec! How can you say so when—” And then she suddenly realized the absurdity in worrying over such a petty detail when she had come close to losing her life in the crossfire of battle. She was so very glad to be alive. She laughed and caught at Alec’s fingers when he put up his brows in mock disapproval, and teased him. “I suspect making me your marchioness is a ploy just to get me to call you ‘my lord’!”
“Oh, how did you find me out?” He chuckled and dropped a kiss on her forehead, saying teasingly so only she could hear, “But I expect to earn the declaration, one way or another… Hear that?” he added as he straightened, and put a finger to his lips for them to remain silent.
Both women listened and heard nothing. They looked at each other and then at Alec for further explanation
“The fighting, it’s stopped.”
All three wondered for how long.
I
T
HAD
BEEN
an hour since the last shot was fired. It was now dark, the sky as dark as a coal pit. A heavy fog blanketed the ground, blocking a night sky that Alec knew in summer was awash with twinkling stars and a bright moon. The winter weather soup was so dense nothing beyond the towpath was visible. Somewhere close by was the fortified township of Aurich. Built atop a man-made mound against flooding, and protected from invasion by a high wall, the town itself had a lovely church, its spire seen for miles and providing a landmark for travelers and farmers alike. There was also a town square, and extensive gardens where fruit trees blossomed in Spring, and to Aurich was where farmers brought their cattle to market. Alec knew it well, that and the fact he was Baron Aurich; how could he forget such a place?
He had left Selina to change in the privacy of his chamber, ordered the rest of the passengers to remain within the deckhouse, and seen to it that they were supplied with hot water for tea, and more coal for the ceramic heater. He had then thrown his fur-lined cape over his wool frock coat, pressed his tricorne low on his brow, and slipped on his gloves, leaving the safety of the trekschuit in search of Captain Müller. Hadrian Jeffries and one of Müller’s aides-de-camp went with him, the soldier carrying a lantern to light the way.
Soldiers patrolled the tow path the length of the convoy, and at either end of this section of path those soldiers not on duty had set up tents, a fire providing light, and heat to boil water. The jagers had tethered their work horses and the horses that would pull the sledges the following day, and set up their own camp, their charges fed and watered, and blankets secured across their backs to ward off the chill night air.
Alec walked amongst the three camps and spoke to the soldiers and jagers alike, and listened to their stories of the afternoon’s battle with the rebels. He discovered that seven soldiers had lost their lives defending the trekschuit and two of the horses had been put down after being badly wounded in the crossfire. He was surprised to learn that the rebels had managed to break through the line, and ransacked one of the trekschuiten of its supplies. When he asked what was taken, the replies were vague: A couple of crates and a few sacks. And when he made the observation that he found it interesting the rebels had targeted one barge in particular, and not all five, no one could posit an explanation. So he was not surprised that when he asked the whereabouts of Colonel Müller, the men could not tell him that either.
It did not go unnoticed by him, that with each question the soldiers became increasingly nervous, one infantryman in particular was agitated enough to respectfully advise Alec that it would be best if the Herr Baron returned to his trekschuit; in a fog where it was hard to see the nose on the end of your face, the rebels could be anywhere, and were possibly listening to the conversation. Which was why no one wanted to be forthcoming with information. He didn’t doubt they would consider capturing the Herr Baron a prize indeed. To which one of his fellows told him to
shut it
.
An argument between this infantryman and another ensued, but it was not conducted in German, but in the Midanichian dialect, which meant these men at least were from around this area, not from the south of the country. It was assumed Alec and his valet would not understand, and thus the men were relaxed and uninhibited in their comments. Alec gave no indication he understood them as he wished the men a good night and had the soldier with the lantern take him across to inspect the convoy of barges.
Out of earshot, Hadrian Jeffries said quietly in English at Alec’s back, “Did you understand what they were arguing about, sir?”
“Yes. Did you?”
“No. But they weren’t speaking in German, but in some dialect I’d heard before at the Emden docks amongst the wharf workers. It makes you wonder if we’ve wandered into the camp of the enemy, if you get my meaning.”
Alec was grim about the mouth. “Yes. That they chose to argue in the local dialect was telling enough. We’ll keep this to ourselves for now. No point upsetting the others…”
When they were standing before the barge which had interested the rebels, Alec ordered the soldier to hold up his lantern so they could see their way on board. He was standing on the deck with his valet, watching the soldier cast his lantern to see beyond their own toes, and if it was possible to go below, when he continued their conversation in English.
“The men back there mentioned muskets and gunpowder. You were on the docks supervising our luggage and supplies while the barges were being loaded… Do you remember seeing crates of muskets and barrels of gunpowder being brought on board?”
“No, sir. If I had, I’d have remembered, and how many barrels, too!”
Alec smiled. “Yes, I thought you would. Of course, carrying a stock of armaments and powder is not out of the ordinary for soldiers crossing into territory known to be occupied by rebel soldiers. However, a barge loaded up with muskets, and barrels of gunpowder enough for a small army would suggest contraband—”
“For the rebels?”
“That was my first and only thought, particularly as this barge was the only one the rebels were interested in.” Alec lowered his head to accommodate his hat as he went down the steps into the cabin. He had the soldier shed light across the open door. There was a bolt and a large ring for a padlock. But neither the door or the bolt had suffered any damage. “Not a forced entry then…”
With Hadrian Jeffries at his back he followed the soldier about the interior of the cabin with lantern held high and poked into corners and areas as ordered. The floor was awash with a fine layer of dust, possibly spilled gunpowder, and in that dust were boot prints and scrapes of something heavy being dragged from one side of the deckhouse to the other. But for a few textile bales up against the far wall, the cabin had been cleared of its entire cargo. There was also, surprisingly, a scattering of feathers and bird droppings from a duck, or was it a goose? Alec scooped up one of the feathers.
“How exceedingly interesting,” he said without surprise, inspecting the feather. “A pigeon’s feather, Jeffries. Any ideas as to why the rebels would want to abscond with a crate of pigeons?”
“For pie?” the valet replied, not at all convinced. “There were a number of animals and birds brought on board with the sacks of foodstuffs.”
“Loaded onto this barge? I would have supposed that any produce required by the cook would be stowed in the barge housing the kitchen?”
“Yes. Yes. You’re right, sir,” Jeffries replied with a far away look, remembering in his mind’s eye the events of that morning, when the barges were loaded up with their cargo. “Come to think back on it, sir, the animals and foodstuffs
were
loaded onto the second barge, the one with the kitchen. I was occupied making certain the inventory of our trunks and campaign furniture was placed in the first barge, that I didn’t take much notice what was going on with the other barges. But I do remember now that the cargo for this barge was handled solely by the soldiers. They wouldn’t let the wharf workers near the boxes; they were guarded at all times. Sorry, sir. I should have taken more notice.”