Death at Dawn - Caro Peacock [91]
‘But why is he so concerned with Mr Brighton? Why did he make me spy for him?’
‘I’m angry with him for that, and if I meet him I shall tell him so.’
‘But why is he interested?
‘I don’t know. But, believe me, it certainly isn’t for any devotion to the House of Hanover.’
‘He knows who killed my father, I’m sure of that. He almost promised to tell me if I did what he wanted.’
‘Almost?’
‘You think he won’t?’
‘I don’t know. He’s a close and secret man,’ he said.
‘But you admire him?’
‘I respect him. He’s suffered a lot for what he believes.’ He sighed. ‘Liberty, I’ll ask you again. Please leave this and let me take you away.’
‘No. Not before Saturday night.’
‘Why?’
I wanted to tell him about Celia’s elopement. I knew I could trust him, but I’d implied a promise to her.
‘There’s the question of the horse,’ I said.
‘What is this about a horse?’
‘The one my father won. Esperance. She’s in a livery stables near here with Amos Legge. There’s a cat as well. I can’t just go and leave them.’
He laughed and his arm came round me.
‘Oh child, you haven’t changed.’
But I knew I’d changed very much.
‘I don’t know what to do about them,’ I said.
He sighed.
‘Then I suppose the horse must come too. Are you able to communicate with this man Legge?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, tell him to bring the horse here on Saturday night. I’ll stay for the ball and we’ll play this execrable Welcome for them, and if Sir Herbert wants to raise the banner for the untrue heir, then it’s his pantomime. We’ll go straight back to London the moment it’s over, even if I have to steal somebody’s carriage.’
What I’d do in London with a horse, a cat and Amos Legge’s expenses to pay, nowhere to live and not a shilling in my purse, was something so far distant that it hardly seemed worth worrying about.
‘Very well, I’ll tell him,’ I said.
Daniel insisted on escorting me all the way back to the kitchen door, although I was afraid one of the other servants might see us together. He had no excuse to be anywhere near the house; because there was no room for the musicians in the Hall, they’d been billeted in a building in the park known as the Greek Pavilion.
At the door, he put a hand on my shoulder and said softly, ‘Child, do as little possible tomorrow and Saturday. Stay safe in the schoolroom, if you can. Leave the fools to their folly.’
Something touched my forehead, light as a leaf. It was only after he’d walked away that I realised he’d kissed me.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Friday, 14th July. Le Quatorze Juillet. I woke up thinking about that, of all things. Forty-eight years ago the people of Paris had stormed the Bastille and the world had changed for ever. It had always been a day of celebration in our household, with Tom and I allowed a glass of watered wine to drink to the Revolution and, as it happened, our own names: Liberty, Fraternity. (If my mother had lived longer, I’m sure there would have been a third child called Equality.) But today Revolution had a colder feel to it. I got up at about six o’clock, washed and dressed in the green cotton dress with my muslin tucker freshly laundered and clean white cotton stockings. I’d hoped to go early to the stables to see Amos Legge, but Betty had unknowingly ended that plan when I’d got back to the schoolroom the evening before.
‘I’m sorry, Miss Lock, but you’ll have to get the children up on your own tomorrow. Two of the lady visitors have come without their maids so Mrs Quivering said would I oblige.’
With the house full of guests and the kitchen preparing for the grand dinner in the evening, all the servants were doing two or three times their normal work. This was in spite of the fact that thirty extra maids, waiters and footmen had been brought in from London and Windsor for the occasion. The maids in the room below me were having to sleep two to a bed to make room for them. I roused the children at half past six as usual, but getting them washed and dressed took much