LITMIR.BIZ

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But it’s fifty miles!’

      ‘What of it? The moon will be up and I know the road.’

      ‘So you plan to arrive at the crack of dawn, unwashed and unshaven. That is sure to endear you to your wife.’

      The jibe hit home.

      ‘Very well, we will stop on the road for breakfast and a change of neckcloth. Will that suit you? Damn it all, man, do not expect me to wait until the morning to set out, for there is no possibility of my sleeping tonight.’ He glanced at Anthony. ‘I want to see Dominique as soon as may be and put things right. What about you?’

      What I want,’ said Anthony, with unwonted savagery, ‘is to wring Gwen’s damned neck!’

      * * *

      The Ribblestone carriage arrived at Rotham shortly before ten o’clock, by the light of the rising moon. It had taken some time to pack up everything Dominique thought it necessary to take with them into Buckinghamshire and they had also broken their journey in order for little James to be fed in comfort, rather than in the jolting carriage. The viscount’s household was thrown into a panic by the sudden arrival of the two ladies, together with the baby, his nurse and Mrs Albury’s maid, but Lord Rotham took one look at Dominque’s stricken countenance and immediately gave orders for rooms to be prepared with all haste. Then he carried Dominique and Gwendoline off to the drawing room, where the whole story came pouring out.

      ‘I cannot believe this of Gideon.’ Lord Rotham looked a question at Gwen, who shrugged, but it was Dominique who answered him.

      ‘He t-told me, assured me, he had no intention of seeing her, after we met by chance at the theatre.’ She pulled her damp handkerchief between her fingers. ‘And then to discover him driving through town with her—’

      The viscount shook his head.

      ‘My son has many faults,’ he said heavily, ‘but I had not thought this of him.’

      ‘I wanted to wait and see what Gideon had to say for himself,’ put in Gwendoline, ‘but Dominique was desperate to get away.’

      ‘I c-could not stay in that house,’ cried Dominique, jumping up. ‘Not there, where we—where we...’

      Her voice was suspended. She hid her face in her hands, feeling the hot tears leaking between her fingers. Gwen put an arm around her and gently eased her back on to the sofa.

      ‘Hush now, love. You are overwrought, and tired, too, I shouldn’t wonder.’

      ‘Yes, of course. So foolish of me.’ Dominique wiped her eyes. ‘I beg your pardon. And yours, too, my lord, for descending upon you in this way, b-but I could not think where else to go.’

      His smile was kindness itself.

      ‘Where else should you go? You are my son’s wife, the mother of his child. My grandson. You may remain here for as long as you wish.’

      ‘And—and Gideon?’

      ‘He will no doubt arrive here shortly, and when he does he may give his version of events. We may yet find there is a reasonable explanation.’ Dominique shook her head and he continued, ‘Well, let us wait and see what the morning brings. For now I suggest you should take a little supper and go to bed. I have also given orders for your old room to be prepared for you, Gwendoline. It is too late for you to be going to Fairlawns.’

      ‘Thank you, Papa, but I do not want to burden you. Mrs Ellis mentioned another visitor—’

      ‘Yes, Mr Rogers arrived earlier, but that need not concern you tonight.’

      * * *

      Gently but firmly he shepherded them into the care of the kindly housekeeper, who took them off to the oak parlour and plied them with hot soup and bread and butter. Dominique managed to force down a few mouthfuls before retiring to her room. Unhappiness wrapped itself around her like a cloak, but she was so bone-weary that thankfully, almost as soon as she slid between the warmed sheets, she was asleep.

      * * *

      Dominique awoke early the following morning, but was in no mood for company, so she spent an hour with little James before making her way downstairs to the breakfast room. Gwendoline and the viscount were already seated there, together with a gentleman in a brown wig and plain brown coat.

      ‘Mr Rogers.’ She greeted him as cheerfully as she could. ‘I am very glad to see you, sir.’

      ‘And I you, Mrs Albury,’ he returned. ‘Especially so, since my business with the viscount concerns you.’

      Her worries were momentarily forgotten. ‘You have news of my father?’

      ‘Pray do not raise your hopes too high,’ Lord Rotham warned her. ‘We should discuss this in my study after breakfast.’

      ‘Oh, please tell me now,’ she begged him. ‘I cannot bear for you to keep me in suspense—and I am sure there can be nothing that Gwendoline should not hear.’ She laid a hand on her father-in-law’s arm, saying again, ‘Pray, my lord, tell me now. Any news will be welcome after all these years.’

      ‘First let me pour you a little coffee,’ said Gwen, suiting the action to the words. ‘And take some bread and butter, Dominique. You may eat it while Mr Rogers talks.’

      The lawyer dabbed at his dry lips with the napkin.

      ‘Well, if Lord Rotham has no objection...?’ The viscount signalled to him to continue and the lawyer twisted slightly in his chair to address Dominique. ‘I have information about your father, madam, and because it is of such importance I thought it best to come in person to discuss it with Lord Rotham.’

      ‘Monsieur Rainault is alive!’ cried Gwen, clapping her hands.

      ‘Exactly, Lady Ribblestone. That is, he was still alive at the time of the last communication,’ amended Mr Rogers with typical lawyer’s caution. He turned again to Dominique. ‘As you know, Lord Rotham took an interest in this affair last year and he put me in touch with certain parties in France, relatives of his late brother-in-law, the Duc du Chailly. We have had to proceed very carefully. France is full of spies ready to expose anyone they think wishes to overturn the new order. However, with patience and perseverance we located your father. He was being held in a remote prison under a false name. We can only surmise that he assumed this identity in an effort to flee the country.’

      ‘That explains why Maman’s efforts to trace him failed,’ said Dominique, adding darkly, ‘Those that were not thwarted by my cousin.’

      ‘Quite.’ Mr Rogers nodded. ‘My last communication from France arrived early Monday morning and I set off directly for Rotham. Our “friends” in France secured your father’s release, madam, but even then it was not safe to make this information public. Your father’s moderate views were well known and would not be popular with the present government. I was reluctant to apply for papers to bring your father from France as it would alert the authorities.’

      ‘Yes, yes, I quite see that,’ said Dominique eagerly. ‘So what can we do?’

      ‘We will smuggle him into England,’ the viscount told her. ‘I shall send a man to France to fetch him home to you.’ He smiled. ‘How we are to achieve that is best kept a secret. Mr Rogers and I will go away now to thrash out the details and leave you and Gwendoline to finish your breakfast.’

      ‘Well,’ declared Gwen, when the men had departed, ‘that at least is good news for you, my dear.’

      ‘I can hardly believe it, after all this time.’ Dominique shook her head. ‘I shall take little James into the village later to tell Maman. It will deflect her attention from my own situation.’

      ‘Ah, yes.’ Gwen paused, crumbling a piece of bread between her fingers while she chose her words. ‘Perhaps Papa is right and Gideon has a good reason for what happened yesterday.’

      Dominique put up her hands.

      ‘Do

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