Betrayal at Lisson Grove - Anne Perry [149]
She turned and looked quickly at Vespasia.
Vespasia nodded.
Charlotte moved half a step closer to the Queen. ‘No, ma’am. I’m afraid I’m not a nurse at all. I told the man at the door that I was in order for them to allow me in.’
Victoria twisted her head to stare at Charlotte with cold eyes. ‘And why was that?’
Charlotte found her mouth dry. She had to lick her lips before she could speak. ‘My husband is in Special Branch, ma’am. Yesterday he became aware what these men planned to do. He returned to London to get help from among those we can trust. Lady Vespasia, Mr Narraway and I came here to warn you, hoping we were in time. Clearly we were not, but now that we are here, we will do all we can to be of help.’
Victoria blinked. ‘You knew that those . . . creatures were here?’ she said incredulously.
‘Yes, ma’am. Lady Vespasia realised that the man pretending to be a gardener was actually taking the heads off the petunias. No real gardener would do that.’
Victoria looked beyond Charlotte to Vespasia, still at the far side of the room.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Vespasia answered the unspoken question.
Narraway moved at last. He came forward, bowed very slightly, just an inclination of his head. ‘Ma’am, these men are violent and we believe they are seeking reform of all hereditary privilege in Europe—’
‘All hereditary privilege?’ she interrupted. ‘You mean . . .’ her voice faltered, ‘. . . like the French?’ From the pallor of her face she had to be thinking of the guillotine, and the execution of the King.
‘Not as violently as that, ma’am,’ Narraway told her. ‘We believe that when they are ready they will ask you to sign a bill abolishing the House of Lords—’
‘Never!’ she said vehemently. Then she gulped. ‘I do not mind dying so much, for myself, if that is what they have in mind. But I do not wish it for my household. They have been loyal, and do not deserve this repayment. Some of them are . . . young. Can you negotiate . . . something . . . that will spare them?’
‘With your permission, ma’am, I will attempt to prevaricate long enough for help to arrive,’ he replied.
‘Why does Special Branch not call in the army, or at the very least, the police?’ she asked.
‘Because if they come in with force, these people may react violently,’ he explained. ‘They are tense now. In their own way they are frightened. They know the cost of losing. They will certainly be hanged. We cannot afford to panic them. Whatever we do, it must be so stealthy that they are unaware of it. Everything must appear normal, until it is too late.’
‘I see,’ she said quietly. ‘I thought I was being brave when I said, “Here we die.” It looks as if I was more accurate than I intended. I will remain here in this room, where I have been so happy in the past.’ She gazed out of the window. ‘Do you suppose heaven is like that, Mr . . . what is your name?’
‘Narraway, ma’am. Yes, I think it may well be. I hope so.’
‘Don’t humour me!’ she snapped.
‘If God is an Englishman, ma’am, then it certainly will be,’ he said drily.
She turned and gave him a slow, careful look, then she smiled.
He bowed again, then turned away and walked to the door.
Outside in the landing he saw one of the armed men halfway down the stairs.
The man must have caught the movement in the corner of his vision. He spun around, raising the gun.
Narraway stopped. He recognised Gallagher from Special Branch photographs, but he did not say so. If any of them realised who he was they might shoot him on principle.
‘Get back there!’ Gallagher ordered.
Narraway stood where he was. ‘What do you want?’ he asked. ‘What are you waiting for? Is it money?’
Gallagher gave a snort of contempt. ‘What do you think we are – bloody thieves? Is that as far as your imagination goes? That’s all your sort thinks of, isn’t it! Money, all the world’s money, property. You think that’s all there is, property and power.’
‘And what’s yours?’ Narraway