'I'd never do that without speaking to you first, Amalia.'
'That's what I hoped.'
'You've made a tedious event into a joyful one.'
She giggled at the compliment. 'Thank you, Daniel.' She glanced towards Helene du Vivier. 'I saw you talking to that lady.'
'I was talking to her but thinking of you.'
'Then you were the only man in the room doing so. All the others were staring at her — even Father. In fact, he was the one who recognised her eventually. I thought there was something familiar about her but I couldn't put her name to her face.'
Daniel was interested, 'You recognised Madame du Vivier?'
'That wasn't her name when we saw her in Paris.'
'What was it?'
'I can't remember and neither could Father. What was carved into our memory, however, was her performance. I'd never been to the theatre before,' she admitted, 'and had no idea what a wondrous place it could be. Most of their names have gone but I do recall that the playwright was a gentleman called Moliere.'
'Let me understand this, Amalia,' he said, wanting the facts confirmed. 'You went to the theatre in Paris and saw Helene du Vivier onstage?'
'Yes, Daniel — she's an actress.'
The startling news made him swing round to look at the woman. Marlborough was clearly enthralled by Helene du Vivier. Whatever she was saying, it made him smile graciously and nod enthusiastically. His companions were equally fascinated. Daniel wondered how many other women would, on first acquaintance, have the elegance and aplomb to hold the attention of such important military figures. They hung on every word and reacted to every gesture. She was giving another well-rehearsed performance. It was abruptly interrupted. A loud scream rang out on the other side of the room and there was general commotion. Everyone looked in the direction from which the sound had come. Daniel and Amalia were among them. Word quickly spread that someone had just fainted, causing a shocked woman nearby to scream. The tension slowly faded away.
Daniel looked back at Marlborough in time to see him placing a kiss on Helene du Vivier's hand before she withdrew. After a salvo of farewells, she flitted off into the crowd. Daniel was suspicious. His mind was racing. What was a Parisian actress doing at such a function? If she really was there with her uncle, why had she not left with him to return to a sick aunt? Or why had her Uncle Johannes not remained for the few minutes it would have taken her to meet the evening's honoured guest? The scream had been unusually piercing from someone who'd merely seen someone faint. A gasp of surprise would have been more likely and it would have been muffled by the hubbub. Daniel came swiftly to the conclusion that the scream was a way of diverting attention. He had no idea of the purpose of the distraction until he saw Marlborough raise his wine glass to his lips.
'Your Grace!' yelled Daniel, charging across to him to take him by the elbow. 'I crave a moment with you.'
'Need the request be quite so dramatic?' said Marlborough as he was led aside. 'Is there a problem?'
'I believe that there could be. May I have your glass, please?'
'You surely do not wish to drink my wine?'
'I want to make certain that nobody drinks it, Your Grace.' He took the glass and sniffed it. Daniel pulled a face at the sour smell. 'This wine has been poisoned,' he said.
'That's absurd, Daniel. Who could possibly wish to poison it?'
'It was the lady to whom you were speaking.'
'What — Madame du Vivier? She was utterly charming.'
'Her charm was very practised, Your Grace,' said Daniel, 'and her name was not Helene du Vivier. She's an actress from Paris and I believe she was here to assassinate you.'
Johannes Mytens raised a glass of wine to offer a very different toast.
'Let's drink to the death of the Duke of Marlborough!'
The others were quick to join in the celebration. Willem Ketel sucked his teeth, Gaston Loti grinned in triumph and the woman who'd assumed the name of Helene du Vivier congratulated herself on one of her finest performances. In her private life, she was Loti's mistress and the two Dutchmen were very envious of him. The four of them were in Mytens' house, relishing what they believed would be a critical turning point in the war. Even though the Allied army had secured a resounding victory at the battle of Ramillies, the death of their commander- in-chief would sap their determination to continue fighting against the French. Peace negotiations would be inevitable.
'Our decision was wise,' said Loti, complacently. 'Cut off the head and the body lacks any direction. Remove the Duke, as we did this evening, and his army will collapse.'
'The person we have to thank,' said Mytens, 'is my beautiful niece, Helene du Vivier.' The men laughed and raised their glasses to her. 'You were so convincing that I really thought I was your uncle.'
'You were equally convincing,' she told him. 'It was rather amusing to hear you propose a toast to a long and happy life for the Duke when you were actually involved in a plot to kill him.'
'It was one of many nice touches, I feel. Inventing a sick aunt for you was another one. In fact, my wife is in rude health and staying with her sister in Utrecht.'
'I'm relieved to hear it. I was very concerned about her.'
'I know that you share our commitment to peace, my dear,' said Ketel, taking the chance to slip a sly hand around her waist, 'but what you did deserves rich reward.' He offered her a purse. 'This will show you how eternally grateful we are to you.'
'Thank you,' she said, taking the purse.
'When our countries are no longer at war, I'll make a point of visiting Paris in order to see you perform in the theatre.'
'There's been no greater stage than this,' put in Loti. 'How many other actresses have the opportunity to end a wasteful conflict and restore peace to Europe?'
'Someone should write a play about it,' said Mytens. The bell rang at the front door. 'That will be the report for which we've been waiting — certain news that the Duke of Marlborough died in agony from poison. Pray, excuse me.'
Setting his glass aside, Mytens went off to greet the messenger in person. It was too important a task to delegate to a servant. When he reached the front door, he drew back the bolts and threw open the door with a flourish, expecting to see the man appointed to bring the glad tidings. Instead he was looking at the drawn sword of Daniel Rawson. Four soldiers were at Daniel's back.
'What's the meaning of this?' demanded Mytens.
'You are under arrest,' said Daniel, pushing past him to enter the house. He went into the parlour and saw the woman. 'I have sad news for you, Madame du Vivier,' he announced. 'His Grace, the Duke of Marlborough, is alive and in good health. The poison you slipped into his wine is being examined by an apothecary. His Grace never touched it.' He looked at the others. 'You are doubtless parties to this conspiracy so I have the pleasure of placing you all under arrest.'
'You mistake us, Captain Rawson,' said the woman, producing her most charming smile. 'We have no reason to wish the Duke dead.'
'In that case,' he said with an answering smile, 'we have no reason to execute you but your execution will nevertheless take place.' He brandished his sword. 'Seize them!'
Mytens was already being held by one of the soldiers. The other three each moved to arrest one of the conspirators. Ketel gibbered wildly as he was grabbed and the woman protested by trying to smack the soldier away. Loti had no intention of being taken. From inside his coat, he pulled out a pistol and cocked it.
The soldier trying to arrest him immediately moved away. The other soldiers also took a cautious step backwards. Only Daniel had the courage to approach him.
'There's no escape,' he told Loti. 'The house is surrounded.'
Loti aimed the pistol at him. 'Put your sword aside,' he ordered. When Daniel obeyed, he found the gun jammed against his temple. 'Stand back, all of you,' Loti went on, 'or the captain will have his brains blown out.'
