Betrayal at Lisson Grove - Anne Perry [142]
Their carriage pulled up and they alighted, thanking the driver and paying him.
‘You’ll be wanting me to wait,’ the cabby said with a nod. ‘You can look, but that’s all. Her Majesty’s in residence. You don’t get no closer than this.’
Vespasia paid him generously. ‘No, thank you.You may leave us.’
He shrugged and obeyed, turning his vehicle round and muttering to the horse about tourists with no sense.
‘There is nothing for us to wait for either,’ Narraway said ruefully. ‘I can’t tell anything from the outside, can you? It all looks just as I imagine it should do. There’s even a gardener at work over there.’ He did not point but inclined his head.
Charlotte glanced in the direction he indicated and saw a man bent over a hoe, his attention apparently on the ground. The scene looked rural and pleasantly domestic. Some of the anxiety inside her eased. Perhaps they had been more frightened than necessary. They were in time. Now they must avoid looking foolish, not only for the sake of pride, but so that when they gave the warning the royal household staff would take them seriously. Anyway, it would not be long before Pitt would send reinforcements who were trained for just this sort of duty, and the danger would be past.
Unless, of course, they were mistaken, and the blow would strike somewhere else.Was this yet another brilliant diversion?
Narraway forced himself to smile in the sunlight. ‘I feel a trifle ridiculous carrying this case now.’
‘Please hold on to it as if it were highly valuable to you,’ Vespasia said very quietly. ‘You will need it. That man is no more a gardener than you are. He doesn’t know a weed from a flower. Don’t look at him, or he will become alarmed. Doctors called out to the Queen are not concerned with men hoeing the heads off petunias.’
Charlotte felt the sun burn in her eyes. The huge house in front of them seemed to blur and go fuzzy in her vision. Ahead of her, Vespasia’s back was ruler-straight. Her head, with its fashionable hat, was as high and level as if she were sailing into a garden party as an honoured guest.
They were met at the door by a butler whose white hair was scraped back from the high dome of his forehead as if he had run his hands through it almost hard enough to pull it out. He recognised Vespasia immediately.
‘Good afternoon, Lady Vespasia,’ he said, his voice shaking. ‘I am afraid Her Majesty is a little unwell today, and is not receiving any callers whatever. I’m so sorry we didn’t know in time to advise you. I would invite you in, but one of our housemaids has a fever, which we would not wish anyone else to catch. I’m so sorry.’
‘Most unpleasant for the poor girl,’ Vespasia sympathised. ‘And for all the rest of you also. You are quite correct to take it seriously, of course. Fortunately I have brought Dr Narraway with me and I’m sure he would be happy to see the girl and do whatever can be done for her. Sometimes a little tincture of quinine helps greatly. It might be wise for Her Majesty’s sake as well. It would be dreadful if she were to catch such a thing.’
The butler was lost for words. He drew in his breath, started to speak and stopped again. The sweat stood out on his brow and his eyes blinked rapidly.
‘I can see that you are distressed for her.’ Vespasia spoke as assuringly as she could, although her voice wavered a trifle also. ‘Perhaps in humanity, as well as wisdom, we should have Dr Narraway look at her. If all your staff became infected you will be in a serious and most unpleasant situation.’
‘Lady Vespasia, I cannot—’
Before he could finish another younger man appeared, also dressed as a servant. He was dark-haired, perhaps in his mid-thirties, and heavier set.
‘Sir,’ he said to the butler. ‘I think perhaps the lady is right. I just had word poor Mollie is getting worse. You’d better accept their offer and have them in.