Chapter Eleven #3
“Lord Beaufort had no right to reprimand Mrs. Sable, especially before you,” Moreau declared, effectively dragging Annalise from her musings.
Annalise thought otherwise, but she refused to be goaded into a response.
She simply took private delight in the knowledge the woman who had sided with Moreau would soon be turned out without a reference.
Alexander and Lord Duncan would see to it once the net about Yates and Moreau closed over them.
When she did not comment on Beaufort and Mrs. Sable, Moreau changed tactics. “What do you know of a loose brick in the garden wall?”
Her first instinct was to deny knowledge of the recess, but, thanks to Lord Beaufort, she now knew Moreau had discovered the hiding place. Likely, one or more of the other servants had been spying on her.
“Do you mean the loose brick near the back gate?” she asked in feigned innocence.
“Then you were aware of it?” he accused.
“Yes, I discovered it when you and Caroline were away in France. I was beating one of the smaller rugs when I noticed the kitchen cat from Trippman Hall next door chasing a bird, which ducked into a hole in the wall. I chased the cat away, but I knew it would be back. The bird had a nest inside. When the bird left again, I moved the nest to the first groove in the elm tree. I could not seal the bird up in the wall by replacing the brick.” When she had fetched water earlier, she had looked for the bird’s nest to see where it was located.
She would find the squirrel hole in the other tree on her next venture outside.
“Did you not realize there was a similar loose brick on the outside of the gate?” he questioned.
“How could I?” she asserted. “You forbade me to leave Amgen House. The brick on the outside did not appear loose when I removed the nest, but, naturally, I did not tap upon it to test it.”
“Why do you return to the wall again and again?” he challenged.
“Periodically, I remove the brick to know assurance the bird has not returned to build a new nest. The brick sits ajar, and I thought it possible for a sparrow to slip into the crevice. However, I am sad to say, it has not, nor is it using the one I placed in the elm.”
“You appear always to possess an excuse.”
“Excuses are not my intent, sir,” she said apologetically.
“If you are wary of my explanation, I shall gladly point out the nest I moved.” She knew the sparrows had abandoned one nest and built another higher in the tree during the summer.
She often viewed the Trippman’s cat sneaking about the yard.
“Without a ladder to be employed in the household, I could not reach a higher limb.”
“I believe I am capable of viewing a bird’s nest on my own,” he said with a huff of irritation.
“Very well, sir. May I have permission to continue my work?”
Moreau glared at her. “Be about it.”
She curtseyed and turned back to her task, but she clearly heard the threat in Moreau’s voice when he said, “I do not trust you to be with Clara in my study. You are not to enter it again. Moreover, as you are a live-in servant, you should not be sleeping in the family wing. Move your belongings to the garret.”
“Yes, sir,” she called in obedient tones, but without looking at the man she had once trusted above all others.
As Moreau walked away, she knew satisfaction in having informed Lord Beaufort of the possible plans for Saturday, for the opportunities for her to learn more would be thin going forward. All she had to do for the present was to remain alert and wait for the inevitable.
With Lady Annalise’s bit of information regarding a large summit happening at the end of the week, everything moved forward with more urgency.
“Hopefully, we will find all the key players in the same place,” Duncan had said repeatedly.
And, while Beaufort worried excessively for Lady Annalise’s safety, all he could do was to trust that they had prepared properly.
Even Richard Orson had returned to London a day early to be a part of the operation, but none of them had expected what had transpired.
Belatedly, Beaufort realized he should have known—they all should have known—that Marksman would not wait to confront Honfleur—that the young earl would seek revenge for the man’s treatment of Lady Annalise.
Yet, even if they had, none of them had expected Caroline Moreau at this meeting of the masterminds of a plan to bring down the United Kingdom, as Napoleon had not been able to do.
Thankfully, Beaufort had circled the inn in search of Moreau, but he was too late to prevent Caroline Moreau from shooting Alexander Dutton.
“Thompson!” Navan screamed over and over as he rushed to reach Alexander. “I am here,” he told Annalise’s brother, as Navan dropped to his knees beside his brother. The lady would never forgive herself if Caroline Moreau killed Alexander.
“Go… after… Anna… lise… before… Caroline… reaches… her.” Alexander had ground out the words as Navan pressed his hands over Alexander’s shoulder to hold Marksman in place while Thompson attempted to stop the bleeding.
“She is well,” Navan assured, as Duncan scurried to assist Thompson.
“We have you, boy,” Duncan said as tears filled his eyes. “I shan’t permit anything to happen to you!”
Alexander ignored the others, gripping Navan’s hand tighter. “Beaufort! Go… now!”
“I will. Permit the others to tend you.” With that, he left the chaos of the government’s takeover behind and raced away to claim his horse.
Within minutes, he was on the road to London proper and Amgen House.
He meant to protect Lady Annalise Dutton for Alexander’s sake and for his own.
The woman was the only example of graciousness and virtue he had ever known, and Navan would not permit her to perish or to know harm.
Some days the hours seemed to crawl by. Knowing Moreau watched her carefully, Annalise made no moves about the house which would draw additional attention.
It pleased her to know Moreau had searched, or rather he had had someone else search, her room in hopes of discovering something to incriminate her in whatever conspiracy in which he suspected she was involved.
However, she had previously removed her most precious belongings—a few mementos belonging to her mother—leaving just enough behind for those familiar with her quarters—mainly Caroline and Clara—not to take notice.
Annalise had decided a need for a speedy withdrawal would be necessary when all the pretending going on at Amgen House came to an abrupt halt, and she had no doubt something was amiss, for Caroline had again sent Mathild away.
The maid had departed for France two days prior, meaning Caroline had no lady’s maid beyond what Clara or Mrs. Sable could provide.
More importantly, her “cousin” never asked for Annalise’s assistance, likely meaning the Moreaus were scaling back their social activities again, which could indicate they meant a speedy departure.
It was also possible Mathild carried instructions to those in France, a speculation Annalise had shared with Alexander in her last note to her brother.
“Father and I are going out,” Caroline said to Clara. “I shall require my simple walking cape. I do not wish to soil my fur-lined one.”
“Yes, miss.” Clara scurried away to act on Caroline’s orders.
Meanwhile, without looking up, Annalise dutifully darned Moreau’s socks. Even so, she noted the hem of the simple gown Caroline wore. Caroline and her father must be meeting with the others involved in the approaching upheaval. Annalise’s heart hitched higher in anticipation.
“Are you not interested in my destination?” Caroline asked from somewhere off Annalise’s left shoulder.
“No, my lady.” Annalise studiously placed her stitches so they would interlock with one another. “I have no right to know the nature of your business.”
Caroline circled the chair in which Annalise sat in order to stand before her.
Even so, Annalise kept her eyes upon the needle as it dove in and out of the fabric.
“I shall tell you, nevertheless,” Caroline said with a taunt marking her tone.
“We return to the Oakley Arms. You recall the Oakley Arms, do you not, Audrey? It is where we exchanged our first kiss.”
Annalise felt embarrassment rushing to her cheeks, but she made no comment regarding the revulsion she had felt.
It would be best for her not to anger Caroline, who had, of late, become nearly as antagonistic as was her father.
Thankfully, before Caroline could comment again, Clara returned with the cloak.
“Thank you, Clara,” Caroline said in sweet tones. “I shall tell my father of how well you served me today,” which meant Caroline would likely voice a false accusation against Annalise, but she would stay the course, for the British government was closing in inch by inch.
As the day progressed, Annalise continued her duties as she counted off the minutes and said prayers that this day would be the end of her time in this house when a great din below stairs drew her to the noise.
“Lady Annalise!” a voice she recognized called repeatedly, ignoring those who shouted for the removal of Lionel Carter’s presence in Amgen House’s kitchen.
“I am here!” she announced as she entered the small room, where she had often of late found herself in both her brother’s arms and those of Lord Beaufort.
Lionel shoved Mrs. Sable from his way. “Me lady,” he said with an emphatic tone to silence the others. Then he bowed in respect.
Mrs. Sable, Clara, and Cook swung around to view Annalise’s presence in the room.
Mrs. Sable pulled herself up royally. “She is assuredly not a lady!” the woman declared while pointing a finger in accusation at Annalise.
“The only lady in this house is Lady Caroline and her ladyship is currently not at home. I ask you to leave this house at once, or I shall be forced to summon the watch.”