Drums of War (37 page)

'Nothing
would keep me away from you.'

'Good
evening, Captain Rawson,' said Emanuel Janssen as he joined them. 'I had a
feeling you'd try to monopolise my daughter. Not that I have any objection to
that, mind you.'

'I'm
glad to hear it,' said Daniel.

'I've
just had a brief word with your commander-in-chief. He tells me that you
distinguished yourself on the battlefield yet again.'

'I
was only one of thousands.'

'You're
always so modest,' said Amalia.

'Would
you rather I told you that I'd won the battle single- handed and that I
deserved — at the very least — an earldom for my services to Queen and
country?'

They
shared a laugh but it was the last thing they were able to do. A gong sounded
and guests were directed to their seats. Daniel was on the top table, seated
beside Marlborough. He was sorry that Amalia and her father were so far away
from him. It was difficult to see them properly at the far end of the table.
Simply having Amalia in the same room, however, had transformed the occasion.
What he'd envisaged as a dull, formal event now took on the aura of a very
special day in his life. The meal was excellent, the wine plentiful and the
speeches interminable. Some were in English but those in Dutch required
translation.

Toasts
were even more plentiful than the speeches. A number of civic dignitaries felt it
incumbent upon them to rise to their feet, glass in hand, and blurt out a
toast. Daniel took particular interest in a member of the States-General who
proposed a toast, noting that his name was Johannes Mytens. His interest sprang
not from the fulsome remarks made by the man but from his dazzling companion.
Mytens sat next to a handsome, poised, full-bodied woman in her twenties. At an
assembly dominated by men, she had real presence. Dressed in the French
fashion, she turned many heads in the course of the evening, Marlborough's
included. She looked too young to be Mytens' wife and he would hardly parade a
mistress at such a function. Daniel was certain that she wasn't his daughter.
In appearance and manners, she stood out from the more restrained and staid
Dutch women around her. At one point, she caught his eye and gave him a
quizzical smile.

When
the dinner was over, guests adjourned for drinks in an adjoining chamber.
Daniel was desperate to speak to Amalia but at first he couldn't see her in the
crowd. Only by standing on his toes did he finally pick her out. Before he
could make his way to her, a hand grasped him firmly by the wrist. He turned to
face the woman whom he'd noticed during the dinner. She was even more striking
at close quarters and her perfume had a bewitching aroma. She spoke in French.

'Captain
Rawson?' she asked with another quizzical smile.

'Yes,'
he replied.

'I
couldn't help noticing that you were acting as the Duke of Marlborough's
interpreter this evening. I took the liberty of asking for your name.'

'I
see.'

'I'm
Hélène du Vivier and I have a special reason to be grateful to the Duke. Thanks
to his success against the Lines of Brabant last year, I recovered a sizeable estate
commandeered by the French. Several hundreds of acres were involved as well as
a fine mansion. I was able to move back into my own home again. I only wish
that my dear husband - who was somewhat older than I - had still been alive to
experience the joy of regaining what was ours. Until it was occupied by the
French, the estate had been in his family for generations.'

'I'm
glad that we were able to help you, Madame,' he said.

'Is
there any way that I might be permitted to speak to the Duke?' she went on,
talking now in passable English. 'As you can hear, I do have some knowledge of
his language.' She squeezed his wrist. 'I would love to have the opportunity of
thanking him in person. It would only take two minutes, if that. Would you be
so kind as to introduce me to him, Captain Rawson?'

'I'd
be happy to do so, Madame.'

'Thank
you.'

Her
voice was a soft purr and she momentarily stroked the back of his hand before
releasing it. Daniel was stirred. Had he not met Amalia and come under her
spell, he would certainly have tried to develop this new acquaintance. Hélène
du Vivier was patently a woman of the world. Though her husband had died, he
decided, she was no grieving widow but someone leading an independent
existence. She searched his eyes. In any other woman, he would have found it
almost brazen. In her, however, it seemed teasingly sophisticated. Daniel was
curious.

'May
I ask how you come to be here?' he wondered.

'My
uncle, Johannes, brought me,' she explained. 'He was one of the many people who
proposed a toast. He's a member of the States-General.'

'That
would be Johannes Mytens, then.'

'You
know
him?'

'I
remember him introducing himself when he gave us the toast.'

'Then
you have an excellent memory, Captain.'

'Some
things are impossible to forget,' he said with a smile. 'If your uncle is here,
why doesn't
he
take you to meet His Grace?'

'Uncle
Johannes had to leave, I'm afraid,' she said. 'My aunt is not well and he was
anxious to get back to her. This was an occasion he could not miss so I took
Aunt Jenifer's place at his side. Her loss was my gain.'

People
were already departing and the crush had thinned out considerably. Daniel could
see Marlborough in a corner, talking to his brother and a couple of Dutch
officers. It seemed like a convenient moment to interrupt him. He took Hélène
du Vivier across to the group and introduced her. When she began to tell
Marlborough why she held him in such high esteem, Daniel slipped away. He
didn't get very far. Amalia had come looking for him.

'I
thought you'd sneaked off,' she said.

'I'd
never do that without speaking to you first, Amalia.'

'That's
what I hoped.'

'You've
made a tedious event into a joyful one.'

She
giggled at the compliment. 'Thank you, Daniel.' She glanced towards Hélène du
Vivier. 'I saw you talking to that lady.'

'I
was talking to her but thinking of you.'

'Then
you were the only man in the room doing so. All the others were staring at her
- even Father. In fact, he was the one who recognised her eventually. I thought
there was something familiar about her but I couldn't put her name to her
face.'

Daniel
was interested, 'You recognised Madame du Vivier?'

'That
wasn't her name when we saw her in Paris.'

'What
was it?'

'I
can't remember and neither could Father. What was carved into our memory, however,
was her performance. I'd never been to the theatre before,' she admitted, 'and
had no idea what a wondrous place it could be. Most of their names have gone
but I do recall that the playwright was a gentleman called Molière.'

'Let
me understand this, Amalia,' he said, wanting the facts confirmed. 'You went to
the theatre in Paris and saw Hélène du Vivier onstage?'

'Yes,
Daniel - she's an actress.'

The
startling news made him swing round to look at the woman. Marlborough was
clearly enthralled by Hélène du Vivier. Whatever she was saying, it made him
smile graciously and nod enthusiastically. His companions were equally
fascinated. Daniel wondered how many other women would, on first acquaintance,
have the elegance and aplomb to hold the attention of such important military
figures. They hung on every word and reacted to every gesture. She was giving
another well-rehearsed performance. It was abruptly interrupted. A loud scream
rang out on the other side of the room and there was general commotion. Everyone
looked in the direction from which the sound had come. Daniel and Amalia were
among them. Word quickly spread that someone had just fainted, causing a
shocked woman nearby to scream. The tension slowly faded away.

Daniel
looked back at Marlborough in time to see him placing a kiss on Hélène du
Vivier's hand before she withdrew. After a salvo of farewells, she flitted off
into the crowd. Daniel was suspicious. His mind was racing. What was a Parisian
actress doing at such a function? If she really was there with her uncle, why
had she not left with him to return to a sick aunt? Or why had her Uncle
Johannes not remained for the few minutes it would have taken her to meet the
evening's honoured guest? The scream had been unusually piercing from someone
who'd merely seen someone faint. A gasp of surprise would have been more likely
and it would have been muffled by the hubbub. Daniel came swiftly to the
conclusion that the scream was a way of diverting attention. He had no idea of
the purpose of the distraction until he saw Marlborough raise his wine glass to
his lips.

'Your
Grace!' yelled Daniel, charging across to him to take him by the elbow. 'I
crave a moment with you.'

'Need
the request be quite so dramatic?' said Marlborough as he was led aside. 'Is
there a problem?'

'I
believe that there could be. May I have your glass, please?'

'You
surely do not wish to drink my wine?'

'I
want to make certain that nobody drinks it, Your Grace.' He took the glass and
sniffed it. Daniel pulled a face at the sour smell. "This wine has been
poisoned,' he said.

"That's
absurd, Daniel. Who could possibly wish to poison it?'

'It
was the lady to whom you were speaking.'

'What
- Madame du Vivier? She was utterly charming.'

'Her
charm was very practised, Your Grace,' said Daniel, 'and her name was not
Hélène du Vivier. She's an actress from Paris and I believe she was here to
assassinate you.'

Johannes
Mytens raised a glass of wine to offer a very different toast.

'Let's
drink to the death of the Duke of Marlborough!'

The
others were quick to join in the celebration. Willem Ketel sucked his teeth,
Gaston Loti grinned in triumph and the woman who'd assumed the name of Hélène
du Vivier congratulated herself on one of her finest performances. In her
private life, she was Loti's mistress and the two Dutchmen were very envious of
him. The four of them were in Mytens' house, relishing what they believed would
be a critical turning point in the war. Even though the Allied army had secured
a resounding victory at the battle of Ramillies, the death of their
commander-in-chief would sap their determination to continue fighting against
the French. Peace negotiations would be inevitable.

'Our
decision was wise,' said Loti, complacently. 'Cut off the head and the body
lacks any direction. Remove the Duke, as we did this evening, and his army will
collapse.'

'The
person we have to thank,' said Mytens, 'is my beautiful niece, Hélène du
Vivier.' The men laughed and raised their glasses to her. 'You were so
convincing that I really thought I
was
your uncle.'

'You
were equally convincing,' she told him. 'It was rather amusing to hear you
propose a toast to a long and happy life for the Duke when you were actually
involved in a plot to kill him.'

'It
was one of many nice touches, I feel. Inventing a sick aunt for you was another
one. In fact, my wife is in rude health and staying with her sister in
Utrecht.'

'I'm
relieved to hear it. I was very concerned about her.'

'I
know that you share our commitment to peace, my dear,' said Ketel, taking the
chance to slip a sly hand around her waist, 'but what you did deserves rich
reward.' He offered her a purse. 'This will show you how eternally grateful we
are to you.'

'Thank
you,' she said, taking the purse.

'When
our countries are no longer at war, I'll make a point of visiting Paris in
order to see you perform in the theatre.'

'There's
been no greater stage than this,' put in Loti. 'How many other actresses have
the opportunity to end a wasteful conflict and restore peace to Europe?'

'Someone
should write a play about it,' said Mytens. The bell rang at the front door.
"That will be the report for which we've been waiting - certain news that
the Duke of Marlborough died in agony from poison. Pray, excuse me.'

Setting
his glass aside, Mytens went off to greet the messenger in person. It was too
important a task to delegate to a servant. When he reached the front door, he
drew back the bolts and threw open the door with a flourish, expecting to see
the man appointed to bring the glad tidings. Instead he was looking at the
drawn sword of Daniel Rawson. Four soldiers were at Daniel's back.

'What's
the meaning of this?' demanded Mytens.

'You
are under arrest,' said Daniel, pushing past him to enter the house. He went into
the parlour and saw the woman. 'I have sad news for you, Madame du Vivier,' he
announced. 'His Grace, the Duke of Marlborough, is alive and in good health.
The poison you slipped into his wine is being examined by an apothecary. His
Grace never touched it.' He looked at the others. 'You are doubtless parties to
this conspiracy so I have the pleasure of placing you all under arrest.'