“I thought we’d have dinner downstairs,” her father suggested. “They provide a very good meal.”
“Fine,” she said. “Are you returning to Surrey in the morning?”
“Yes,” he replied, and rose with difficulty from the divan. He eyed her anxiously as she prepared to leave with him. “Those threats,” he said. “I’m glad you’re leaving London for a time. I’m certain he is up to no good at all, and I pray that your troubles with him will come to a satisfactory conclusion once and for all.”
Enid concurred silently with her father’s wishes. For too long now her sham of a marriage to Andrew had persisted, and while she was bound to him—shackled, she thought—she could entertain no hope for a complete union with Armand.
The evening Enid spent with her father left her in a morose state. She felt both apprehensive and depressed. He had steadfastly refused to tell her the nature of the threats Andrew had made, either because they were so diabolical or because they were not fit for her ears. She and Lord Alfred parted with her promising him that she would go down to Surrey for a visit as soon as she returned from what he believed to be a tour of the English provinces. Naturally, she had not dared to tell her father of her true plans.
She met Susie at the stage door of Drury Lane and they took a carriage home. As Enid paid the driver, her eyes strayed to the opposite side of the dark street, and she was almost certain she saw a man standing alone in the shadows. A tiny shudder ran down her spine and she found herself wondering if Susie had been right, if someone really was watching the house.
Once they were safely upstairs, with the candles lit in the studio and in the bedroom they shared, she felt less fearful. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and told her friend what she was going to do. She did not mention that it was Prince Louis Charles whom she and Kemble hoped to rescue, merely that the boy was of noble birth whom his family hoped to save.
Susie was distraught. “You and Kemble must both be mad!” she exclaimed. “Running off to France and all that horror to find a child of strangers!”
“The idea appeals to Kemble’s sense of adventure,” Enid said.
“It is different for him. He is a man. But to that country consumed with anarchy and chaos no woman should venture!”
“I have given my promise.”
“What about me?”
“Kemble will see to it that Jenny comes to live with you until we return.”
“Jenny! How can I talk to her?” Susie wondered in disgust. “She is just a pretty face with no mind!”
Enid disagreed. “I think you misjudge her. I think most people do. Because of her pretty face and quiet temperament, they come to the conclusion that she is stupid. I don’t think that’s true.”
“She is a dreadful Ophelia!”
“But an excellent Kate! Her forte is comedy. And it takes wit to play comedy. You of all people should know that.”
“You are bound to prove me wrong. I don’t know what I shall do between living alone and trying to work with that awful Mrs. Siddons!”
Enid tried to comfort her. “It will probably be only for a few weeks. The time will pass quickly.”
“Not for me,” Susie said unhappily, rising from the bed and starting to prepare for sleep. “Why did Gustav have to leave me?” she groaned.
Enid sighed. “It seems we are all being drawn into the maw of the revolution. It has come to dominate our lives.”
“I hate living in this awful, wicked age!” Susie cried as she pulled her long nightdress over her head.
Enid laughed. “I’m sure they said the same thing in Rome and Athens in ancient days!”
She followed Susie in readying herself for bed. By the time she had snuffed out the candles, Susie was already asleep and breathing heavily. Enid was glad. She knew the unhappy girl was not getting enough rest because of worrying so about her husband. Enid had no trouble understanding this, since she was just as worried about Armand.
Sir Harry Standish had said that Armand was a prisoner in a small town near the coast. Enid wanted to believe he would be safer in a small town than in a city like Paris, where the jails were overflowing with Royalist prisoners who were routinely marched out and executed without any semblance of a trial. She hoped it would be different in the country. At least it was likely that there the so-called system of justice would move at a slower pace, which might give her time to save him.
She fell asleep with this thought in her mind, but it gave her no comfort. Her slumber was filled with terrifying dreams that reached an unbearable peak when she felt unseen hands about her throat, choking her. She gasped for breath and called out, and then she awakened with a start.
She gasped again and sat up in bed with a cry of horror. The room was full of acrid smoke, and stiflingly hot. Susie still slept peacefully. Enid jumped out of bed and tugged at her arm.
“Fire!” she screamed. “Wake up! The house is all aflame!”
Susie came awake and at once went into hysterics. Enid tried to quiet her and get her out of the room at the same time. Susie seemed to be only partially aware of their predicament. She continued to sob loudly as Enid led her through the smoke-filled studio to the door leading to the stairs. When Enid opened the door, flames licked in at her and blocked her passage. She screamed, slammed the door closed, and then ran to the nearest window. Next to it was a plain chair, which she picked up and slammed against the pane. Woodwork and glass flew wildly, but now there was an avenue of escape.
Enid looked out and saw people gathering in the street below. They shouted instructions up to her, all crying out together, so that they defeated their purpose. She could not hear what they were saying.
She ran back through the blinding smoke in search of the cot. Then she dragged its coverlet off and groped her way toward the open window.
Susie was still standing there, weeping. “What shall we do?” she sobbed.
“I’ll show you,” Enid said, tying one end of the coverlet around her friend’s waist. “Out on the sill with you! Fast!” She shoved the whimpering, resistant girl onto the windowsill. “Now I’m going to lower you,” Enid went on, “and to keep yourself from swaying, I want you to touch the wall as I let you down.”
Susie still held back while Enid tied the other end of the coverlet to a sturdy table leg. Then, as Susie continued to sob, Enid slowly lowered her into the waiting arms of the approving crowd. Flames were beginning to shoot up through cracks in the floor as she swung herself out of the window and clung to the makeshift rope.
A man caught her in his arms and eased her down onto the cobblestones. “Anyone else in there?” he yelled, trying to make himself heard above the loud voices of the crowd and the roaring of the fire.
“No,” she yelled back.
“Best to get back! She’s going to collapse!” he shouted, and he dragged her away with him.
As the crowd slowly retreated across the street, the old wooden building became racked with flames. The yellow tongues of disaster licked out of windows and through the roof, as if eager to consume the very air itself. Then there was a strange, rasping sound and the structure disintegrated before their eyes, falling in slow motion behind a screen of fire and smoke.
The man took Enid a few steps farther along to where Susie stood. She saw Enid and ran to her, pressing herself against her. “What shall we do?” she sobbed.
“There is nothing we can do,” Enid said quietly.
The man stared at her. “You lost everything?”
“All we have left are the nightdresses we stand in,” she replied.
“I was coming by and I saw the flames,” he told her. “And I saw a man come running out of the front door and dash down the street in a flash.”
“Did you get a good look at him?”
“No. I didn’t see his face at all. I was about to try going in then, but your face appeared at the window.”
“Whoever it was you saw coming from the house had to be the one who started the fire!” Her tone was drenched in bitterness.
“You think so?” the man gasped, amazed. Then he turned to watch the flaming ruins again.
“I told you someone was watching the house,” Susie said.
“I have an idea who it was,” Enid mused.
“Who?”
“Andrew, or some agent he hired, I’m certain he promised to see me in Hell and that he threatened to set the house aflame.”
“That sounds like him!” her friend whimpered.
At this point a portly man came up to them and said, “I have a carriage down the street, ladies. Can I take you anywhere?”
“Yes,” Enid replied, making a quick decision. “I’ll thank you if you’ll take us to a friend’s house.”
“Wherever you like,” the stranger offered generously.
“To the flat of the actor Kemble.” She gave him the address.
He helped them move past the remaining onlookers, past the flames and the wreckage of the old building that had housed both happy and sad times. Within a few moments they were safely installed in his carriage and on the way to Kemble’s flat.
“What will he think?” Susie fretted.
“What does it matter?” Enid said. “We are in distress. He will be glad to help us.”
And this proved to be true. Once they had managed to rouse the sleeping actor and Jenny, the two were quick to show their concern for the forlorn Susie and Enid. Jenny brought them brandy and prepared a sleeping place for them in the front room of the flat.
When morning came, Jenny provided the women with clothes from her own wardrobe. They were a strangely subdued group as they sat down to breakfast together.
“At least this solves the problem of housing,” Kemble said. “Susie must come here to live with Jenny while we are in France.”
“But what about Gustav? Suppose he returns and is not able to find me?” Susie protested.
“You can leave word with the people in the neighboring houses that you are living here,” Enid suggested.
Kemble nodded his agreement. “That should take care of the matter satisfactorily.”
Jenny, looking composed in a green robe the color of her eyes, moved about the table, pouring more tea. “Then you are determined to make this journey?” she asked.
“Yes,” her lover said. “Enid and I have to pay a visit to someone in the government this morning and make our arrangements.”
“Thank goodness I have something decent to wear, sweet Jenny.” Enid gave her a warm smile. “Directly after our appointment I must do some shopping.”
“I have a good deal to do myself,” Susie lamented. “And all our household things went up in flames.”
Jenny sat beside her and spoke in a sympathetic manner. “You mustn’t worry about it all at once. Give yourself a little time to get over the shock. You can build up your stock of household goods slowly, since you’ll be living here for a while.”
“That is true,” Susie admitted. She turned to Kemble. “Thank you for your great kindness to us, John. I won’t be forgetting it quickly, you may be sure of that.”
“It is nothing,” the actor told her with a hint of embarrassment at her gratitude. “All of us here are close friends. Almost like a family. It is only right that we should share.”
“Are you certain that your husband set the torch to your building?” Jenny asked Enid.
“He is the one whom I first suspect,” she replied.
Kemble gave her a wise glance. “It could have been someone else, you know. Remember the night you rescued Armand? He and Gustav set the warehouse on fire. Couldn’t Louis Esmond or some of his agents have planned to even the score, even at this late date?”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Enid confessed. “It is very much a possibility.”
Susie sighed. “I expect we shall never know for certain. We can only be thankful we escaped with our lives. I was a problem for Enid. I lost my nerve completely. If she hadn’t taken over, I would have died up there in the flames.”
“I was just as frightened, but I didn’t dare show it,” Enid admitted with a smile. But she knew that the crisis had proved at least one thing. She was not as shattered as she had feared she would be. In the face of danger her courage had returned to her. Now, having gone through that experience, she felt much better about the venture that lay ahead.
An hour later she and Kemble took a carriage to the address Sir Harry had given them. Susie was going out on a shopping expedition for clothes, the funds for which were provided by Kemble, with Jenny planning to keep her company. Enid was glad to see the two young women getting along better than they had in the past.
She told the actor, “I’m sure Jenny’s kindness to us after the fire has made Susie regard her more highly.”
“Then at least something has been gained from the disaster,” he said grimly as the carriage moved through familiar streets.
She glanced at him. “No last-minute regrets?”
He stared at her in surprise. “About trying to save the life of the Dauphin?”
“Yes.”
“None whatsoever. His parents are doomed, and probably his sister as well. If we can save the boy, it will give me a great deal of satisfaction.”
“I know Armand would approve.”
Kemble smiled in his melancholy fashion. “He would be sure to approve in principle, but I’m not certain he would be anxious to see you taking such a risk.”
“I feel we shall be successful.”
“So do I.” He paused. “There is one thing you ought to do.”
“What?”
“Work at your fencing. You may find your swordsmanship useful in France.”
“Gustav is far away, so will you fence with me?”
“You’re my superior.”
“At least it will give me some practice.”
“I shall make the sacrifice,” he said genially. “Also, I must select a suitable small pistol for you to carry at all times. And a dagger.”
“A dagger?”
“They are more easily concealed than a sword and are silent and generally useful. Yes, you must have a dagger!”
She laughed softly. “Then I shall surely be a cloak-and-dagger person!”
“That is what our profession will be for the next several weeks or months.”
“I hope we are back sooner than that.”
The imposing brick building that was their destination lay in a block of government offices. The guard first scrutinized them carefully and then turned them over to an amiable young fellow in a brown twill coat and breeches. His only consent to fashion was his neat, powdered wig.