Under a full moon and racing clouds, a pair of hefty retainers trotted up to the rear of Shelford Hall bearing the chair. A figure swathed in a dark domino emerged and stepped daintily to the washroom door.
Callie met her, still masked, feeling much as if she ought to have thirty pieces of silver jangling in her pockets when Mrs. Fowler thanked her with such a pretty profusion. But then she thought of the note and stiffened her resolve. The one forgery-that might have been excused as a naive mistake-but when she uttered the second counterfeit note, she had known full well how heavy the consequences were. And then she came to Trev again as her savior from her own folly!
Callie had provided a blank card and writing materials on the big ironing table in the dry laundry. 'I couldn't find an extra ticket,' she said, drawing a closed lantern near. 'But this is out of the card stock from Lady Shelford's desk.' She set the lantern on the table and shone light on the paper. 'Here is ink. Write it as: 'The Pleasure of your company is requested at a Masked Ball'-and you must make a capital of P and
'Where am I to meet him?' Mrs. Fowler asked, looking up from the table. She had procured a half mask on a stick; she picked it up with the card and turned to Callie.
'He's waiting for you,' she said. 'He says that you must be ready to f ly on the instant.'
'Oh, I am ready!' she exclaimed. 'I can go tonight if I must.'
'What of your son?' Callie asked, the point on which she was most uneasy with this snare.
'Oh, he's well enough where he is; I've left him with Mr. Fowler's parents. They dote on him, I assure you!' She gave a nervous giggle. 'I think he would much rather his mama escape with her life than take the time to fetch him, don't you?'
'It must be terrifying.' Callie watched Mrs. Fowler through her mask. 'Monsieur told me a little of how he felt, fearing for what might be done to him.'
'Indeed-I thought from what you said he must have told you-and I'm quite in mortal danger, you know!'
'You must be very courageous, though.'
'Oh, I'm the veriest coward, I do assure you, my lady.'
'But to forge a note of hand, not once but twice, and then pass them both. You must be as daring as any highwayman, I think.'
She lifted the mask to her eyes and gave a pert twitch of her head. 'I suppose it was rather daring of me,' she said. 'I shouldn't speak to you of it, though.' Her eyes danced with mischief. 'You might witness against me!'
'We need not call my lady to witness, I believe,' said a man's voice. Lord Sidmouth stepped from the shadows behind the tall laundry mangle. The courtyard door swung shut and revealed Sir Thomas standing behind it.
Mrs. Fowler gave a shriek. The outer door was blocked, but she threw herself past Callie, making a rush across the laundry room for the corridor. In the dim light, Lord Sidmouth tried to catch her, but after an instant's struggle, he was left with only her black cloak in his hand. She escaped to the passage. Hermey's fiance started to run after her, but the secretary stopped him with a raised hand.
'Sir Thomas,' Lord Sidmouth said calmly, 'we don't wish to cause a scene at her ladyship's excellent fete. Let her go.'
'Let her go, sir?' Sir Thomas frowned.
'Let her go.' He picked up the card Mrs. Foster had written, and then asked Callie for the note in which she had confessed. For a time that seemed to stretch to infinity, he stood reading and comparing the two by the lamplight.
Finally he looked up at Sir Thomas. 'You may rejoin your betrothed. I'm certain that she's wondering what's become of you.' Lord Sidmouth tucked the two papers inside his coat and turned to Callie. 'My lady-would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you?'
Callie's heart sank. She saw her hope of clearing Trev's name vanish before her eyes in his easy dismissal of the whole incident. But he held out his arm, and she could think of nothing to do but accept it. 'Thank you,' she said in a small voice.
They followed Sir Thomas out into the dimly lit corridor. As his figure disappeared up the stairs, Lord Sidmouth murmured, 'I should like to speak to you in privacy, my dear. I'm sure all is at sixes and sevens, but is there some respectable place that we may be quiet?'
Callie was quite familiar with the servants' range. 'The housekeeper's parlor,' she said, swallowing her nerves. 'She can look in, but she won't disturb us.'
'Excellent. And perhaps she'll see that we have a cup of strong tea-I've had a surfeit of punch for the night.'
This plan was carried out easily enough, Callie being a favorite belowstairs. In the plain, cozy sitting room, Lord Sidmouth dropped a lump of sugar in his tea and sat back in the housekeeper's overstuffed chair. Callie perched on a straight-backed stool, feeling much like a frightened maid called up to account.
'My lady,' he said, 'I must admire your cleverness. The episode produced an abundance of evidence that can be used in a court of law. But I was brought into it rather suddenly and find myself a little at sea. If you will be so good as to explain to me, why did she come to you in search of LeBlanc?'
Callie bit her lip. She still retained her mask, for which she was grateful as she felt the blood rise hotly in her face. But it was time and enough to speak some truth, she thought. 'He isn't Monsieur LeBlanc. He is the duc de Monceaux. His mother has resided here in the village for many years after they escaped from France.'
'I see.' The secretary accepted that with a thoughtful nod. 'He is a friend of your family, then.'
Callie cleared her throat. 'Yes,' she said, not quite adhering to her intention to speak the whole truth. 'That is, his mother is very dear to me. He came here to say farewell to her before he left England. He's gone now.'
A faint smile f lickered over his thin lips. 'Doubtless.' He regarded her for a few moments. 'I must tell you, Lady Callista, that whatever his name may be, I was under a great deal of political pressure after his convic tion. The king most sincerely wished to pardon him.'
She said nothing to that, not knowing what reply to make.
'I can't blame you if you don't follow these matters, of course. It was a most unpleasant case: a young woman of such… attractive manners. The public does not hold with hanging the young and lovely, and who can blame them? The newspapers became involved. Sides were taken. We'd have had riots. Yet a great crime had been committed, and the law must be satis fied. Particularly in a case of forgery. The faith of the nation rests on a signature, my dear. Our banks would fail if we could not trust the notes that are passed.'
She nodded, feeling a little sick.
'Yes, I can see that you don't like what you hear. But a full pardon was not possible. He did not defend himself. The lady did. With vigor.'
She frowned behind her mask. 'But the evidence…'
'Such evidence as there was spared his life. The jury convicted him, and the judge condemned him to death, in accordance with the law. He received a conditional pardon. He was not transported by force or sent to the hulks. I felt at the time that a reasonable compromise had been reached between the demands of the law and humanity.'
'At the time?' she asked, her voice trembling.
'Outright pardon is an infrequent grace, my lady, by necessity. The awful power of the law is tempered by the king's mercy, but you will understand that it must not be casually extended.'
She blinked behind the mask. 'But the king himself, you said-'
Lord Sidmouth's lips f lattened. 'His Majesty in his compassion would pardon the entire roll of felons in Newgate,' he said. 'Your king, ma'am, has a very soft heart. And certain gentlemen of the sporting crowd had his ear in this case. It falls to me and his council to examine the petitions with a little more severity. When all the circumstances and the effect on the public mind were taken into consideration, we did not feel that this petition merited full pardon.'
She bent her head, gripping her hands together and trying not to show her emotion. This seemed so unjust and capricious that she could not even speak- that he allowed Mrs. Fowler to escape in order not to disturb a mere ball, but would make an example to the country of Trev when they must have known he was not guilty.
'However,' Lord Sidmouth continued evenly. 'There are those rare cases in which the evidence of innocence is overwhelming.' He looked up at her. 'Reconsideration must be made. As you seem to take a friendly interest in his… ah… his mother… you may inform her that on the basis of what I have witnessed tonight, and these notes in evidence, the petition will be reopened. He will receive a full and unconditional pardon.'
Callie sprang up from her seat. 'Sir!' she exclaimed. 'Oh, sir.'
'Full and unconditional. She has my word on it.'
Twenty-Three
SUCH WAS HER EUPHORIA THAT CALLIE WAS ALL THE way up the stairs and hurrying into the crowd of guests before she brought to mind that she had no one to tell the news. She paused, pushing the dangling plume from its favored position covering the right eyehole of her mask. All day she had felt benumbed, until she had discovered Mrs. Fowler's note, and then her determination to act on it had kept all other feelings at bay. But now the full impact of his absence came over her. It was nearly midnight; she couldn't even go to the duchesse. She experienced such a rapid descent in her emotion that she nearly stood there in the midst of the masqueraders and burst into tears.
'My lady.' A gentleman spoke low, very near her ear.
Callie turned. Her mask and the plume obscured her vision, but that voice sent a shock of recognition down her spine.
'I've come for you,' he said. He laid his hand on her arm.
She turned and saw him: masked, dressed in loose shirtsleeves, his collar open and a bloodred sash about his waist. He carried a sword in a glittering sheath, a real one-she recognized the elegant weapon that hung above the mantelpiece at Dove House. With his black hair and dark skin and a pair of yellow breeches thrust down inside his tall boots in the billowing Cossack style, he looked a corsair indeed.
She could have blurted out her news. It was her first thought, but hard on that came the memory of his leaving and what he had said to her. She stiffened, resisting his touch.
Guests nearby gave them curious glances, as well they might, for of all the costumes, his was the most simple and yet the most dramatic. Scandalous, without a waistcoat or cover for his shirt, with the muscle in his shoulders obvious and his collar points dangling carelessly down so that his throat and chest were half revealed.
