Drums of War (10 page)

'I
can't divulge that,' said Daniel. 'It's a private matter and I don't propose to
discuss it on the doorstep. Tell the young lady that I bring news from home.
I've ridden a long way to deliver it.'

Beatrix
was unsure what to do. The visitor was very personable and had no resemblance
to the man watching the house. At the same time, he was a complete stranger and
she therefore distrusted him. She was spared the agony of making a decision.

'Invite
the gentleman in,' Amalia called out.

'Yes,
Miss Amalia,' replied Beatrix, opening the door wide.

'Thank
you,' said Daniel.

Sweeping
off his hat, he stepped into the house. Beatrix closed the door behind them and
thrust home the bolt before she led him to the parlour. He went into the room
to meet Amalia Janssen for the first time. Reports of her beauty had not been
exaggerated. Even though she was under obvious stress, she was still arresting.
He was taken aback at the sight of her.

'It's
a pleasure to meet you, Miss Janssen,' he said, smiling.

'May
I know your name, sir?'

'Of
course,' said Daniel, 'when I'm certain that it's safe to tell it to you.' He
glanced around. 'How many of you are there?'

'Apart
from me, only Beatrix and my father's assistant are here.'

'That
would be Kees Dopff.'

She
was cautious. 'How do you know so much about us?'

'Because
I've been sent to help you,' he explained. 'Your father is missing and you
wrote to ask for assistance.' Smiling again, he spread his arms. 'Here I am.'

'Yet
still you have no name, sir.'

'I
travelled here as a French citizen by the name of Marcel Daron and I have
papers to that effect. My real name is Daniel Rawson, Captain of the 24
^th
Regiment of Foot, and I'm attached to the Duke of Marlborough's personal
staff.'

Amalia
was bewildered. 'What has the Duke got to do with this?'

'It
was he who showed me your letter, Miss Janssen.'

'You
read
it?'

'I
did indeed. You have a graceful hand.'

'However
did it reach someone as eminent as a Duke?'

'The
person to whom you gave it here passed it on to a courier. It was taken to
Flanders at once. His Grace chose me to look into the problem.'

Daniel
could see that she was both mystified and suspicious. In order to put her mind
at rest, he invited her to interrogate him so that he could prove he was not
deceiving her. Amalia offered him a seat then perched on a chair nearby. She
fired a series of searching questions at him and he answered them with patent
honesty. Very slowly, she began to trust him. However, she was still baffled by
the involvement of the Duke of Marlborough. She'd heard her father speak in
glowing terms of the British commander without realising that there might be a
connection between the two men. Daniel sought to enlighten her.

'This
may come as a shock to you, Miss Janssen,' he said, gently, 'but your father
did not come to Paris solely to work for His Majesty, King Louis.'

She
frowned innocently. 'Why else should he come?'

'He
was helping to glean intelligence. Yes,' he went on, seeing her wonderment, 'I
know that he was not trained in such work but he agreed to do it and he
accepted the dangers that went with it.'

'Why
didn't Father
tell
me?' she cried.

'The
less you knew, the safer it was for you.'

'What
about my father's safety, Captain Rawson? Did nobody consider that when he was
asked to be a spy?'

'He
was warned. To his credit, he was not frightened off.'

'Well,
I
certainly would have been.'

'That's
one of the reasons you were kept in the dark.'

'If
we'd stayed in Amsterdam where we belonged,' she said, hands clasped tight in
her lap, 'none of this would have happened.'

'That's
true,' he admitted. 'By the same token, if you hadn't come to Paris, we wouldn't
have had such a stream of invaluable information, collected at Versailles by
your father.'

'Is
that what lies behind all this?' wondered Amalia, trying to work it out in her
head. 'Father was welcomed when we first came here and everyone approved of his
design for the tapestry. Like me, they didn't know that he had another purpose
for being here.' Her eyes filled with tears. 'They must have found him out. My
father is far too honest to dissemble for long. He must have given himself
away.'

'That's
one possibility we must consider.'

'What
other is there, Captain Rawson?'

'He
might have been attacked by robbers in the street or he might have been
kidnapped by someone wanting a ransom.'

'We've
received no demand.'

'It
would not come here, Miss Jansson. It would go to Versailles and a large amount
of money would be involved. Have you had any official word from the King?'

'None
at all,' she said, using a delicate finger to wipe a tear from her cheek. 'We
informed the authorities that Father was missing and they showed no interest.
Since then, nobody has been in touch with us. It's unnerving.'

'Do
you have any idea at all where your father might be?'

'No,
Captain Rawson. At least, I didn't until you told me what he was really doing
here. My fear is that Father's been arrested and put to death.' Amalia stemmed
more tears with a handkerchief. 'Why ever did he take such a terrible risk?'

'It
may yet prove to be worthwhile, Miss Janssen,' said Daniel, controlling the
urge to put a consoling arm around her. "There are ways of finding out the
truth. Until we do that, there's no need to vex yourself unnecessarily.' He
waited until she'd dried her eyes. 'The first thing I'll do is to speak to
Pierre Lefeaux, the person who gave your letter to a courier. What manner of
man is he?'

'I
never met him. Kees delivered my letter.'

'What
did he say about the fellow?'

'Nothing
at all,' said Amalia with a wan smile. 'Kees is dumb, Captain Rawson. He talks
with his hands.'

'I'll
call on Monsieur Lefeaux this very afternoon.'

'Take
great care. The house is being watched. A man has been standing near the corner
all week. Whenever I leave the house, he follows me and it's very alarming.'

'Do
you know who he is and what he's doing there?'

'No,
Captain Rawson - I tried to speak to him once and he simply laughed. Since
then, I haven't stirred from the house.'

'I
can see why you and the others are so upset now,' he said, looking towards the
window. 'Has this man made any attempt to get in here?'

'Not
so far, but we thought it might be him when you knocked.'

Daniel
was purposeful. 'This won't continue, Miss Janssen, I promise you. I'll soon
find out what he's doing there. Before that, however, I must seek out Monsieur
Lefeaux. He may have found out what happened to your father.'

'Then
why hasn't he told us?' she demanded. 'It can only be that Father is dead and
Monsieur Lefeaux doesn't have the heart to tell us.'

'There's
a simpler explanation than that,' suggested Daniel. 'As far as Pierre Lefeaux
is concerned, you know nothing at all about your father's other activities here
in Paris. He'll certainly have been ordered to keep you ignorant of them.' He
rose to his feet. 'I have his address. I'll go there at once.'

Amalia
got up as well. 'What should we do, Captain Rawson?'

'Be
ready to quit the house at short notice.'

'Leave
here?
she said, becoming agitated. 'Is
the situation that desperate?'

'It
might be, Miss Janssen, which is why you need to be warned. With luck, you'll
be able to stay here. In the event that you have to go, you'll have to travel
light.'

'Would
we leave Paris?'

'Not
without your father,' he assured her. 'I know somewhere for us all to stay in
the meanwhile and there'll be nobody at all watching that particular house.'

'How
long will you be gone?' she asked, putting a hand on his arm as he tried to
move to the door. 'Don't leave us too long.'

'I'll
be back as soon as I can, Miss Janssen. Urgency is my watchword. When I've
spoken to Pierre Lefeaux, I'll call on an old friend just in case we do require
accommodation.' He chuckled. 'I fancy that he'll be surprised to see me again.'

'Why
is that?'

'The
last time we met we were on different sides in a battle.'

Henry
Welbeck was not fond of officers. He had buried far too many men as a result of
the incompetence of lieutenants or the misplaced bravado of captains. Having
taken great pains to train those under his command, he liked to keep as many of
them alive as possible. Taking stock of battlefield casualties was something
that always darkened his melancholy. The social divide between officers and men
was deep and wide. In his own idiosyncratic way, Welbeck was proud of the side
on which he stood. The only person of his acquaintance who had bridged that gap
was Daniel Rawson, allowing him to move from one world to the other without the
slightest difficulty.

If
his friend was an exception to the rule, Simon Cracknell embodied it. The major
had, in Welbeck's opinion, all the defects of his breed. He was arrogant,
disdainful and vindictive, treating those in the ranks as no more than cannon
fodder. Among his colleagues, he was reckoned to be a good officer and had
shown conspicuous gallantry on the field of battle. Welbeck was ready to
acknowledge that. What he disliked most about Cracknell was his constant
denigration of Daniel Rawson. It was spiteful and unjust.

Welbeck
had just finished drilling his men when he saw that the major had been watching
him. Cracknell beckoned him over with a lordly crook of his finger. The
sergeant did not hurry.

'Good
afternoon, Major,' he said.

'Your
men were looking a bit ragged today, Sergeant. It's high time you taught them
how to march in a straight line.'

'They
were as straight as can be.'

'Not
from where I'm standing,' said Cracknell. 'They were like the hind leg of a
donkey.'

Welbeck
knew that it was untrue and that Cracknell was trying to provoke him. It was
pointless to argue with an officer, especially one as powerful as a major.
Welbeck opted for gruff politeness.

'It
won't happen again, Major.'

'I
hope not,' said the other. 'I've got higher standards than Captain Rawson. Now
that he's no longer here to protect you, there'll be more scrutiny of your
work.'

'Yes,
sir.'

'Rawson
was far too lax.'

'I
disagree, Major.'

'He
let friendship interfere with duty and that's a fault in any officer. While
he's away, you'll drill your men properly.'

'Yes,
sir,' said Welbeck, hurt by the unfair criticism.

'Our
regiment must be second to none. We have to set an example to the Dutch. If
they were trained as they should be, they might even be prepared to fight a
battle with us.'

'You're
right, Major.'

'The
Prussians know how to fight and so do the Austrians when they put their minds
to it. Prince Eugene of Savoy is a true soldier, who leads his men from the
front. Only the Dutch let us down and they will keep jabbering in that
ridiculous language of theirs.' He gave a cold smile. 'When Captain Rawson
talks in Dutch, he sounds like a goose having its neck wrung.'

'The
captain is fluent in four languages, Major,' said Welbeck. 'How many do you
speak?'

'The
only one that matters,' retorted the other, stung by the question. 'Besides,
I'm a soldier and everyone speaks the same language on the battlefield with
swords and guns.' He tried to make his enquiry seem casual. 'When will we be
seeing Rawson again?'

'You're
more likely to know that, Major.'

'Didn't
he tell you where he was going?'

'When
we last spoke, Captain Rawson didn't know himself.'

'But
he would surely have told you, if he had.'

'No,
Major. He's very discreet.'

'Wouldn't
he confide in a close friend?'

'The
captain has never discussed any of his assignments beforehand,' said Welbeck.
'He's as close as the grave. I should imagine it's one of the reasons that the
Duke entrusts him with such missions. A more boastful officer would be unable
to keep secrets.'

Welbeck
was delighted to see Cracknell wince slightly. The sergeant's thrust had gone
home. Daniel had told him how conceited the major was and how quick to brag
about his achievements. Any reminder of Daniel's closeness to their
commander-in-chief annoyed Cracknell, who thought himself the better man and
more deserving of Marlborough's attention. The major quickly retaliated.