Read The Gathering Storm Online
Authors: Peter Smalley
'Ah, now.' Rennie, in his head. 'Here it comes, at last.
Now I shall discover my fate. Yes, by God, that damned
word. However ...'
'However, Captain Rennie, you will understand, I am in
no doubt, that no word of this may ever be made public.'
Rennie thought it best to say nothing. He waited.
'We cannot be seen to have interfered, nor even to've
attempted to interfere, with the intimate internal arrangements
of another nation. The domestic disturbances in
France are not our business. The fate of the king – much
as we deplore his arrest, and confinement – does not lie in
our hands. These things are altogether a matter for France.
Should there be any repercussion as to your actions at sea
– everything will be denied.'
'But – should there be such repercussion, sir – will those
denials be believed? We was obliged to fire upon and destroy
several ships. We was very plainly a British ship of war.'
'I have read the report.' Nodding again. 'And should those
events ever be raised between our two nations, I shall say
the French were fighting among themselves – opposing
factions – and that any attempt to besmirch Britain's name
would be took very ill. The Royal Navy was never there.
You
were never there, Captain Rennie.'
'And ... what of the prisoners, sir? Many wounded men
were took into Brest, and are held there.'
'Discreet attempts – through commercial channels – will
be made to free them. Certain moneys will be made available,
at Brest. Bribes, to be candid. The families of your men that
lost their lives will also be took care of. You have my word.'
'Thank you, sir.' A bow. 'You are kind.'
'As to you yourself, Captain Rennie, I shall say a word to
Lord Hood, at the Admiralty. And to Lord Chatham, in
course – but it is Hood that manages things, in truth, not
my brother. I will like to reward you, and – what is the lieutenant's
name?' Turning to Mr Mappin.
'Lieutenant Hayter, sir.'
'Ah, yes.' Turning back to Rennie. 'Aye, Captain Rennie,
I will like to reward you and Lieutenant Hayter both. You
should be moved up. You deserve it.'
Thank you, sir.'
Presently the meeting came to an end, and Rennie and
Mr Mappin took their leave. As they reached the door of
the room, Mr Pitt called after them:
'Captain Rennie?'
'Sir?' Turning.
'Your most grateful servant, sir.' And he bowed.
But when Captain Rennie had been returned to Mrs
Peebles's hotel, and Mr Mappin had departed, lingering doubt
remained. Rennie thought about all the Prime Minister had
said, and found that in truth he had no greater 'understanding'
of anything, in spite of Mr Mappin's earlier assertion. Rennie
was puzzled and confused, he was – at sea.
'Whose plan was it, in fact? Was it Mappin's, or Mr Pitt's,
or mostly a French one, formed and arranged by French
loyalists – with British advice and assistance? Was our own
king part of it? Was Mr Pitt obliged to advance the plan at
the king's insistence – to aid his fellow monarch?'
He thought long and deep, sifting through all possibilities
and likelihoods, and could find no satisfactory answer. At
last:
'I shall never know the whole truth, nor even half of the
truth.' A sigh, then he recalled the Prime Minister's promise
– perhaps made to deflect such questions:
'I will like to reward you, Captain Rennie, you and
Lieutenant Hayter both.' Well, that was clear enough,
by God. Clear and unequivocal. Their careers in the Royal
Navy were safe.
'I must say a word to James, at once. It will lift him.' And
he hurried along the corridor to James's room. Knocked,
waited, knocked again. No reply. He waited another moment,
then called:
'James? Are you awake, dear fellow?'
No response. Rennie knocked once more, then when he
heard nothing he tried the handle, and found the door
unlocked. He opened it.
'James?'
The room was empty. The bed had been stripped,
and cupboards stood open and bare. A footfall behind him,
and Rennie turned. A maidservant, her arms laden with fresh
bedlinen.
'Oh, sir – I thought you was gone. I was jus' about to turn
out your room.'
'Turn out my room?'
'Yes, sir. The other gen'man – your friend – paid his bill
and went away this morning, sir. I thought you was certain
to've gone with him.'
'Paid his bill and left ...'
'Yes, sir, with his lady friend.'
'Lady friend?' Rennie stared at the girl. 'D'y'mean – his
wife?'
The maid blushed, and shifted the linen from one arm to
the other.
'Perhaps it was his wife, sir. I – I do not rightly know. She
was a French lady, I think.'
'French!' Brushing past the maid, knocking folded sheets
to the floor. 'The damn' fool!'
Rennie ran down the stair and confronted Mrs Peebles in
her parlour.
'When did Lieutenant Hayter leave?'
'About half an hour after you went out yourself, sir. He
paid his bill, and—'
'And he did not leave word where he was going?'
'No, sir.'
'The lady that accompanied him, was she French?'
'She was a lady cert'nly. And yes, I b'lieve she was French.
They was talking French as they went out.'
'And how long have they been gone? An hour?'
'Really, Captain Rennie, you must not distress me so with
all these questions. I don't care for upset in my house, I do
not. This is a quiet, decent house, for gentlefolk.'
'Yes, I do beg your pardon, Mrs Peebles. Was not the
matter very urgent I should not trouble you so insistent.'
He put down a guinea on the table.
'You wish to settle your bill, Captain Rennie?' Carefully
polite.
'I wish you to aid me, Mrs Peebles.' Looking at her very
direct. 'Now then, which way did they go?'
'I think they may have turned down toward the Strand,
but I cannot be certain.'
'They had no carriage?'
'I don't think so, no. They cert'nly never sent for one
from here.'
'Very well, thank you, Mrs Peebles.' Rennie stared down
the passage a moment, and rubbed the back of his neck.
'Will you be leaving us yourself, sir? Now that your friend
has gone?'
'Yes. No. I – I am not quite certain, just at present. I will
let you know – later.'
'Thank you, sir.' She smiled, and discreetly removed the
offending guinea.
*
'Where do you take me, James?' Juliette, looking out of the
windows of the carriage he had secured for them.
'To my brother Nicholas, at Lambeth. We should probably
have gone there last night.'
'To your brother? Why not to another hotel?'
'Hotel staff may be bribed, and guests observed coming
and going.'
'You think we are watched?'
'Listen now, my love, and attend me very close.' Looking
behind through the oval window, then leaning near to her,
and looking at her intently. 'You are sought in France. You
came here by clandestine means. I will not ask how, nor
with whose aid, but I do not trust anyone with connection
to this affair. My brother has lately moved to Lambeth from
his apartments at Lincoln's Inn, where he practises the law.
He wished to be very private at his new house, and has told
only close members of the family where it lies. People who
would wish to find you, and me – and do us harm – cannot
possibly discover us at Lambeth.'
'You think we are in such danger – even here in England.'
'I do, by God. You and I have been engaged in attempting
to smuggle King Louis out of France, have we not? You
know that you are sought in France, but why not here, also?
Will not the revolutionists wish to discover and take
vengeance upon those in England who aided the attempt?
We can afford to trust
no one at all
.'
'Not even each other?' A little smile.
He did not reply, but simply glanced at her as if to say
that making jokes now was foolish.
This mute response did not entirely satisfy her as the
carriage turned and rattled over Blackfriars Bridge, and her
face said so. James was too preoccupied to notice.
'We are going the long way round to Lambeth.' James,
as they passed over the wide brown river. 'We could readily
have gone by a closer bridge ...' Again glancing behind
through the oval window '... but I wished to be careful.'
The carriage passed down Great Surrey Street and into
Lambeth Road. James began to relax a little, and ceased
peering behind. They came to Paradise Walk, and open fields.
The carriage turned down a lane toward a stand of trees and
a substantial low-built house, set well back in a wide garden.
James signalled to the driver by tapping on the inside roof,
and the horses were pulled up. A moment of quiet.
James opened the door and got out, and folded down the
step for Juliette. To the driver he said:
'Wait here a moment.'
He led Juliette through an arched gateway and along
a path. A covered portico, and a bell-pull. James rang the
bell, and presently the red-painted door was opened by a
maidservant.
'Good morning. Is the master at home?'
'You wish to see Mr Sacheverell, sir?'
'Erm, no ... Mr Hayter. Who is Mr Sacheverell?'
'He is the other gen'man that lives here, sir.'
'Ah. Thank you.' A quick glance at Juliette, then: 'Will
you say to Mr Hayter that his brother James wishes to see
him.'
'Well, sir – that is why I arst. Mr Hayter ain't here at
present. Only Mr Sacheverell. You wish to see him, sir?'
'Erm ... yes. Yes, certainly. Mr Sacheverell.'
'Very good, sir. Will you come in, and wait in the library?'
James and Juliette were shown into a small green pleasant
room, lined on three sides with bookshelves; on the fourth
a window gave on to a green garden. Library steps stood in
a corner. Near the window were a standing globe and a small
leather-topped desk. On the desk, a silver inkwell, a
pouncebox, a bundle of quills. The faint scent of cologne on
the air.
Five minutes passed. Ten. A bracket clock pinged the
quarter hour. Then the door was opened, and in stepped
Mr Sacheverell, striking in a quilted green coat, black
britches and black silk slippers. In a neutral, not quite languid
tone:
'My apologies for having kept you waiting, but Nicholas
did not warn me you was coming. I am Handeside
Sacheverell. My friends call me Handy.'
James bowed. 'Lieutenant James Hayter, RN. May I present
you to my friend Madame Maigre?'
The formalities, and they all sat down.
'How may I assist?' Mr Sacheverell turned his languid gaze
on James.
'Well, in fact I wished to see Nicholas, Mr Sacheverell. I
see now that—'
'Handy.'
'Yes, I beg your pardon. Handy. I see now that I should
have gone to his chambers at Lincoln's Inn, where he—'
'Oh, he ain't there.'
'No?'
'No no, he is at home.'
'Home ... ? You mean, he is at Melton?'
'Yes, he has gone down to Dorset for a week, to see his
mother. Forgive me, she is your mother too, in course. Lady
Hayter.'
'Yes, hm. In truth I had wished to stay here with my
brother a few days. But this is your house, Mr Sacheverell.
Handy. And I could not impose on your—'
'It ain't my house, you know. No, I share it with Nicholas,
but it is his house.'
'Then, I wonder if it will be an imposition to ask ... ?'
'By all means, stay as long as you like. There is plenty of
room. You came in a carriage?'
'Yes, it's outside, in the lane.'
'Then Jeffers will bring in your bags, and ask the driver
to wait.'
'The driver needn't wait.'
'Oh, but surely—'
James, over him: 'Mr Sachev— Handy. Please don't think
me impertinent, but what is your situation here? My brother
has never spoken of you. Are you yourself a lawyer?'
'Nay, I am not.' Easily.
'Then – are you my brother's man of business?'
'Not that, neither. Nor his amanuensis. I am simply – his
friend. We are neither of us married men, and it suits us
very well to share this house.'
James glanced out of the window. 'Yes, it is a very pleasant
house, in a pleasant setting. I can see why my brother took it.'
'Very pleasant, and very private. We are not disturbed
here.'
'I – I hope that we will not disturb you.'
'We?' A quick look at Juliette. 'Ahh – you mean that you
and Madame Maigre
both
wish to stay here?'
'Well – yes.'
'Ahh ...'
'Just for a short time, you know. A day or two, until ...'
'Until?' Again glancing at Juliette.
James leaned forward. 'You are my brother's friend, so I
am going to be candid, and trust you. We wish to hide here.'
'Hide?'
'Yes, we wish to hide because—'
'We are pursued, monsieur.' Juliette, over him. 'You
understand?'
Mr Sacheverell again looked at her, more appraisingly this
time, and gave a little grimace of comprehension.
'Yes, you are lovers. You wish to be lovers undetected. I
do understand, I assure you. You will be quite safe here with
me. – Jeffers!'
He rang a bell. A manservant appeared and Mr Sacheverell
instructed him to bring in the visitors' bags. James gave the
man money for the carriage, and told him to send it away.
Presently James and Juliette were shown to their adjoining
rooms, with the invitation to join Mr Sacheverell for a 'light
luncheon' at one o'clock.
'James, what will we do ... afterward?' Juliette, her hand on
James's. They stood in the open connecting doorway between
their two rooms.
'Afterward?'
'
Oui, ensuite
. When we have stopped running away.'
'Well – we will find a house.' With a confidence he did
not feel, patting her hand. She withdrew her hand.
'Where?'
'Somewhere in England, I expect.'