Vintage Love (29 page)

The doctor shrugged. “It was a deliberate affront on his part. He wants me out of the way so he can tell Valmy his own version of what went on here. And it also means I’m unlikely to live to help you in anyway.”

“Refuse the challenge!”

He shook his head. “I’m certain if I do, he will also use that against me.”

“When is the duel to take place?” she asked.

“Today. Before the sun sets.”

She was thinking swiftly now, and she said, “Is it not possible in a duel to have a surrogate? Cannot you elect, because of your having only one arm, to choose a substitute to act for you?”

“Who could I choose?” he asked. “Who would be willing to go up against an expert fencer like Von Ryn? I doubt if there is anyone on board who can handle a sword except myself and the captain.”

Betsy’s eyes met his. “You are wrong! I have had the best of training in fencing. By Napoleon’s own aides. I will act for you!”

The old man was astonished. “You?”

“Why not?”

“I cannot allow a girl to take my place on the field of honor,” he protested.

“I have my own debt to settle with General Von Ryn,” she said with grim relish. “I promise you I can defend myself as well as any man!”

“You could be killed!” Major Lacoste pointed out.

“Better to be dead than subject to Von Ryn with you out of the way,” she replied. “No, Major, I insist that you allow me to use my ability to protect myself by acting for you.”

He stared at her. “You are truly that expert a swordsman?”

“Or swordswoman, if you like,” she said with a bitter smile. “But I shall need a pair of seaman’s trousers and a shirt!”

Dr. Lacoste speculated on this for a while. He said, “Even if you are defeated, he dare not kill you. He will have to consider satisfaction rendered by his victory, while he would not hesitate to run his sword through me.”

“That is why I must act for you,” she said.

She had won her point. The old man had chosen the captain as his second, and he took the information to Von Ryn who was said to have been highly amused by the turn of events. In the meanwhile she tried out the doctor’s sword and then one offered her by the captain. She found the captain’s weapon the lightest and best suited to her.

Word went through the ship quickly and caused a sensation. She and the captain did some practice fencing on the rear deck in the early afternoon. Her purpose was to limber up, but she did not attempt to push herself to her full capability. She feared Von Ryn might be watching and be able to judge her style of combat too well.

The late afternoon arrived and with it the hour set for the duel. All of the crew came on deck in a sober, tense mood. Hardly a word passed among them. The little cabin boy friend of the girl Von Ryn had murdered was there in the very forefront. Major Lacoste was ready to take care of any wounds which might be incurred. Betsy appeared first in the dark trousers she’d borrowed and a white shirt open at the neck and wrists. The captain was at her side as her second.

Von Ryn appeared next. He wore white breeches and hose, along with a white shirt and vest. He wore his dark glasses and made a striking figure. The first mate was reluctantly at his side to act as his second.

Von Ryn faced her with a contemptuous smile as he said, “I shall not kill you. But in the event I win the match, I shall expect you to join me in my cabin for the night.”

Her face was bereft of any expression, and she replied in toneless fashion, “If you bring me to defeat, I will accede to your request.”

He laughed harshly. “We could almost forgo the duel by going to my cabin now.”

“No,” she countered. “You are entitled to your challenge.”

The two seconds conferred, and it was agreed that the match take place on the smaller confines of the upper deck. All the spectators were herded to a lower level as the last-minute details were attended to. Then a shot was fired, and they faced each other, swords in hand, crouching for the first thrust.

Still wearing an arrogant smile, the White Executioner made the first aggressive move. They parried for a moment and moved about warily. Then he saw an opening and moved in on her! She saw the attack coming and dodged back, but she somehow stumbled!

THE POINT of Von Ryn’s blade came dangerously close to her, but she swiftly recovered her balance and eluded him. They parried again, moving warily about, and again he made an attack on her, but this time it was he who threw himself off-balance as she dodged. She in return engaged his sword and all but wrested it from him!

There was a roar of approval from the tense watchers on the deck below! A grim look of hatred showed on the face of Von Ryn! He knew now he was up against no amateur opponent. This revelation seemed to urge him on to greater aggressiveness and to taking more chances!

One thrust actually penetrated her shirt at the shoulder and drew a little blood, but it was a superficial wound and she paid it no attention. Instead she studied his technique so that she might find his weak points. He disliked close-in engagement when their swords clashed together, preferring to make wild lunges at strategic moments.

Betsy grimly played on this. Perspiration ran down her temples, and she felt weariness in her sword arm. But she tried to eliminate these thoughts from her mind as she continued her battle against the hated Von Ryn. Then in a brief exchange of their swords his black glasses fell off. He made no attempt to retrieve them and a moment or two later stepped on them as he tried to dodge a lunge from her. His own feet trampled the glasses into broken pieces.

There was no question that the loss of the glasses put him at a disadvantage. It made up for the difference in their strengths. She now pressed him as hard as she could, and when he lunged back, he often missed her widely. Still he had drawn blood from her and was a dangerous opponent!

They circled the deck, crouching and waiting for a new engagement. Then she moved in and almost twisted the sword out of his hand. This seemed to unnerve him, and he jumped back. Finding himself against the railing, he leaped up on it and held the ropes leading up to the masts in one hand to balance himself while he fended her off with the sword in his other hand.

There were shouts of unfair from the crew. But he paid no attention, remaining on his precarious perch and keeping her at a distance with his sword. She moved about warily, waiting for the best moment. The sun was setting and all at once flooded that section of the deck with its dying rays. She sensed this would complicate his vision problems and suddenly lunged at him full tilt. To her surprise he did not block her, and the thrust went through. Her sword pierced his chest!

An astonished look crossed the white face, and blood spurted ruby red across his white shirtfront and vest. As the frozen spectators watched along with Betsy, he dropped his sword, which fell onto the deck with a clatter, looked around blankly, then let go his hold on the ropes, and toppled back from the rail into the ocean!

Betsy stood there breathing heavily, her sword still in her hand, unable to believe that the battle was over. Then she was vaguely aware of the crew cheering and the captain coming over and congratulating her.

Old Dr. Lacoste came to her and said solemnly, “It is settled! He’s gone! No one even made an attempt to rescue his body.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe it!”

“You have a great talent in fencing,” the old man said. “Von Ryn was not your equal. Now you must go below and change. I will see you get a warm drink.”

He gave her some sort of sedative, and she slept for several hours. When she awakened, darkness had come. She found it hard to believe that it all had happened. Then Dr. Lacoste came and invited her to dine with him.

They had dinner by candlelight in the same cabin in which Von Ryn had reigned so cruelly. She felt much better about it all, but she could not forget she was still a prisoner on her way to Valmy’s headquarters.

She gazed at the old doctor across the table. “My status is unchanged?”

“If you’re asking me if you’re still a prisoner, the answer must be yes. No matter what I owe you, my first allegiance is the emperor.”

“I hope it is not misplaced,” she said.

The old man shrugged. “I have explained before. I must take the risk.”

“You could let me go and say that I managed to escape on my own,” she suggested.

He said, “Even if I could make Valmy believe my story, it would rob you of a chance to meet the emperor again.”

“If it is the emperor and not an impostor.”

“I’m counting on you to find that out for me,” the old doctor said. “That is why Felix Black chose you for this mission.”

Betsy said, “If Napoleon is now a broken man, I’m not sure I wish to see him again. I would rather remember him as the great gentleman I knew on Saint Helena.”

“I do not think there has been that much change,” he said. “It is my hope that my emperor remains strong.”

She sighed. “So I shall see Venice, Valmy, and perhaps Napoleon.”

“Yes.”

“Will I face another Von Ryn in Valmy?” she wanted to know.

“Valmy is a very different sort,” the doctor told her. “He has great charm, and while he may be as ruthless as Von Ryn was, he does not show it. I wager you will like him.”

“I can’t imagine it.”

“His personality is hard to explain,” Lacoste told her. “You shall judge it when you meet him.”

“As Von Ryn’s killer will I be much welcome?”

“I do not think the bond between him and Von Ryn was all that great. It is my belief that Valmy feared to force him from the group, thinking he might retaliate and spoil the plan.”

“I had almost forgotten I was still in custody,” she sighed.

“You will be free until we dock in the morning,” the old doctor told her. “And you may rest easy in knowing that I will continue to be your friend.”

She smiled across the table at him. “You are a strange old man.”

“You think so?”

“Living with your dreams of glory which can never be again.”

He sat back in his chair. “Can you blame me? My dreams are all I have. I’m quite alone — no wife, no children. All I have ever had was my emperor and my belief in him.”

“I understand,” she said quietly.

That night she lay in her bunk a long while waiting for sleep. Her world had a way of changing with confusing swiftness. Von Ryn was no more. At least she was safe from him. And she knew Lacoste would do all he could to help her. The kindly old doctor was her friend.

But Valmy would be quite a different proposition. She feared what he might decide about her. She even worried about a confrontation with the supposed emperor. Would he have forgotten her? It did not seem likely, since St. Helena was not that distant in his past. Yet she could not have made the impression on him which he had on her.

Most of all she worried about Eric Walters and what had happened to him. She missed the companionship she had known with him and the kindly actor. And she missed Eric’s presence more than she would have ever guessed. She had come to care for him as she had no other man. If he were dead, she felt she might never love another.

When she finally slept, her dreams were strangely all of London. Again she sat in Felix Black’s office and listened to the spare, elderly man question her sharply. She again vowed to serve him and try and discover if Napoleon still really lived. She moved from the room and met Eric in the hallway. He looked infinitely sad, and his wrists were bound. He told her he was on his way to the executioner. She woke herself up protesting this!

Daylight shone through her porthole. And when she looked out, she saw a passing ship. Then her breakfast was brought down, and later the one-armed Major Lacoste appeared looking apologetic.

“We will be leaving the ship shortly,” he said. “I must blindfold you again and have you wear a shawl over your head so that it will not be so noticeable to those who may be watching from the docks.”

“Is all this caution necessary?” she asked. “What harm if I see where I’m being taken?”

“I would have no objection personally,” the old doctor said. “But I must carry out my orders. I’m still a soldier.”

“Yes,” she said bitterly. “And Valmy is your general.”

He looked at her with infinite sadness and said, almost reverently, “No, my dear, I serve my emperor.” And he proceeded to blindfold her.

Major Lacoste led her off the boat and to a waiting carriage. She could smell and hear the city, but the blindfold on her eyes allowed her to see nothing. It was an eerie experience. The carriage ride was short, and then she was transferred to a gondola. And it was in the gondola that they finally reached their destination.

Only when she was inside the huge palace did the old doctor remove her blindfold. Liveried servants moved about looking after various duties and the baroque plasterwork and gilded ironwork decorations set the tone for the mansion. Dr. Lacoste allowed her to look into a vast ballroom that shimmered with the dull gleam of gold, then through a series of rooms, one which was especially ornate with delicate red and gold carvings setting off black lacquer panels. The general tone of the palace was white and gold, with floors of black marble mosaic.

He led her up a curving marble stairway with a gilt railing and then along a wide hall with crimson carpeting to one of several tall white doors. He opened one of the doors and ushered her inside. It was a large bedchamber also decorated in crimson and gold, with the coverlet of the bed gold and the canopy crimson with a gold fringe.

“This will be your room,” he said. “It is somewhat more comfortable than what I’ve been able to offer you.”

She was awed by the grandeur of it all. “It is truly magnificent!”

“I have a room much like it,” he said. “And of course the emperor has his own special apartment below. And Valmy has his quarters on this level. You will be meeting him shortly.”

“When will I see you again?” she asked.

“Soon, I hope,” he said. “In the meanwhile wash and rest yourself in preparation for your meeting with Valmy.”

He left her, and a tiny Italian maid arrived soon with a jug of hot water for her bath. It was hard to communicate with the girl though she seemed bright enough. Betsy enjoyed the luxury of a warm bath and was surprised when the girl brought her a choice of clothing which fitted her very well. It was almost as if her coming had been announced, and they had been able to prepare for her.