'We have so much to talk about,' she added with a happy sigh.
Faro did not doubt that and thought privately that he, for one, would need a great many very plausible explanations for those missing weeks. Even though he was now aware that the Grand Duchess Amelie was alive and well, such knowledge, instead of bringing reassurance, merely made the situation more sinister and bizarre.
Roma Fortescue twirled the wine glass in her fingers as she talked eagerly about Luxoria. Her attitude reminded Faro of travellers returning home who are suddenly overwhelmed with nostalgia for dear faces and familiar places. She was even expansive about Amelie's early days before the revolution.
Faro let her talk.
Occasionally she paused and looked across at him, inviting exclamation or comment. These he readily supplied, his mind busy elsewhere. He did not doubt that they were in the deadliest of danger as he made careful assessment of the vulnerability of their surroundings.
The windows were small panes of glass between wooden astragals. No one could break in that way without using an axe, nor could the windows be opened from the inside. What bothered him most, however, was that in this replica of a castle, the architect had not considered a back door necessary for the dowager lady's servants, or that the elaborate front door required more than a latch for her security. Perhaps the lack of a bolt or any means of locking the door from the inside had been considered a wise precaution for any old lady who might be infirm.
The front door led directly into the sitting-room, an oak staircase giving access to the bedrooms above. The only entrance was also the only exit, he realised grimly.
The maid could not have left the house without them seeing her. She should surely have appeared to clear the table. Faro had rung the bell-pull twice without success before the chiming clock interrupted his companion's soliloquy.
'Surely they should have arrived by now?' she said anxiously.
With no wish to alarm her, and on the excuse that the fire needed replenishing, he said: 'I'll get the maid to see if there's any message up at the house.'
As he hurried towards the kitchen he knew now that there was unlikely to be any message from anyone. At least not one he and Miss Fortescue would wish to hear.
He found the maid with her head resting on her arms, slumped over the kitchen table. He called to her, touched her and, for one dread moment, he thought she was dead.
No, he mustn't let his imagination run away with him. Shaking her proved effective. Telling her: 'Go - at once. No, leave the dishes', he ushered her through the house, opened the front door carefully, and making sure the way ahead was safe for her and that she understood the message, he returned wearily to the sitting-room to find Miss Fortescue fast asleep.
Could it have been the wine? Surely not - then he remembered that, trained as he was to avoid alcohol during work hours, he had only taken a few sips from his glass.
'Roma,' he said to her. And then, 'Miss Fortescue.'
Still she didn't move. He spoke to her again. This time her response was immediate. Sitting bolt upright in the chair, she opened her eyes wide, yawned.
'I don't know when I've felt so sleepy at this hour of the day.' Yawning again, she said, 'Oh, do excuse me - I think I'll retire for a while. I was up and about very early this morning, you know.'
The words seemed to be dragged out of her, and stifling another yawn, her eyes closed wearily and slumped back into her chair.
Seizing the carafe on the table, Faro poured out a full glass of water, then shook her by the shoulder. 'Drink this.'
She gave the glass a dazed look. 'I don't want any more to drink, thank you.'
Lifting her hand, he thrust the glass into it, raised it to her lips. 'It's only water. You mustn't fall asleep just now.'
'Oh, very well.' She took a few sips.
'All of it,' he commanded.
Giving him a puzzled look, she drained the glass which he seized and promptly refilled.
'And again,' he said.
She looked at him in horrified amazement. 'No -
'You must believe me - you must.'
'But why? - Oh, very well.'
Watching her drain the glass, Faro sat down opposite her.
'We haven't a great deal of time. It would help if you were to tell me the truth.'
'What are you talking about? I really would like to close my eyes for a few moments, if you don't mind. You may wake me when they arrive.'
'No one is gong to arrive. At least no one we would welcome,' he added grimly. 'Go on. Keep drinking -'
As she did so, obediently this time, she said: 'What did you call me -1 mean, when you woke me up?' When he didn't reply she protested weakly: 'I don't understand -'
'Oh, I think you understand very well - Your Highness.'
Chapter 20
Faro discovered that the truth was far more effective than glasses of water at throwing off the effects of the wine.
'You called me - Your Highness,' she whispered.
‘I did.'
'But I'm -' she began, and then: 'How did you know?' she demanded indignantly.
'You gave the game away. You didn't respond to either Roma or Miss Fortescue, but when I called you Amelie, you woke up immediately.'
'I'm sorry -' she began, and he cut her short.
'I had guessed already.'
'But how?'
'Some day, if ever we have the time, I'll tell you. But now, Your Highness, the truth, if you please. And all of it. Rest assured our lives may depend on it.'
She said sulkily,
