A Death at the Church Read online

  ‘Why won’t you tell me his name?’

  ‘One reason is when he runs into you, you will able to be genuinely say you have no idea who he is. That will sting his pride. That and your wedding ring will make you irresistible to him. Being young and an absolute knock-out, he will go all out for you.’ ‘All out for me?’

  ‘To get you into bed. The dinner is big enough that he’ll say you won’t be missed. I imagine he’ll set up some kind of diversion for me.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Reluctantly agree to go with him to his room. As it turns out, I’m rather a brute to you.’

  ‘I c-c-can’t,’ I stammered. ‘I know you and the princess, but I...’

  Fitzroy raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you suggesting that I am immoral?’ He shook his head. ‘I would not ask you to sacrifice your virtue. I seem to recall saying something about looking out for you during training.’ He picked up the parcel from the bed, which he had opened. He handed me a small evening bag. ‘Don’t open it, yet. Inside is a lady’s handkerchief soaked in chloroform. All you need to do it get that to his face and he’ll be out like a light. Then you open the door and I’ll be waiting outside.’

  ‘I see two problems. Firstly, you said he would arrange for a diversion for you.’

  ‘I’m sure I will cope,’ said the spy smugly.

  ‘Secondly, you said he’s taller than me. How will I reach?’

  ‘Come on, Alice. This is serious,’ He began to pace back and forth. ‘This is basic stuff. There are a variety of ways. The easiest is to get him to sit down. Offer to massage his shoulders or some such feminine wile. Or jump up on his back from behind. Or tell him you’ll only give him that first kiss if he closes his eyes and when he lowers his head shove the thing in his face. You need to think on your feet. If all else fails give me a shout I’ll be outside, but I would far rather we did this discreetly.’

  ‘Oh,’ I said.

  Fitzroy stopped pacing and regarded me. ‘You’ve gone white as a sheet.’

  ‘Sorry,’ I said sitting down in a chair. ‘I’ll be alright in a minute.’

  Fitzroy stalked off to the side of the room and opened a cupboard that turned out to be a hidden bar. He poured two glasses of whisky. He handed me one and downed the other in one. ‘Turns out the situation is a bit more serious than when I left. I don’t especially like throwing you in the deep end, but the job often goes like this. You have to think on your feet. Besides, you’ve got me nearby.’

  I swallowed a sip of the liquid and took a deep breath. ‘I will be alright. A few years ago, a man tried to rape me. I never knew who it was, but I suspected it was Richard.’

  ‘Tried?’

  ‘Old-fashioned chamber pots are as effective as your chloroform.’

  ‘I didn’t know,’ said Fitzroy.

  I shrugged. ‘There is no reason why you should have done. I never told anyone. Not even Bertram.’

  ‘If I’d been there...’

  ‘You were,’ I said. ‘It was that house party...’

  Fitzroy poured himself another whisky. ‘I’ll think of something else,’ he said.

  I stood up and checked my shawl was in as much order as possible. ‘No, this is a fear I need to overcome.’ I hesitated with my hand on the doorknob. ‘Just make sure you are nearby. I’m trusting you.’ And before he could protest, I slipped out of the room and headed towards the cocktail lounge to find my quarry.

  * * *

  12 So tiny in fact I believe Richenda would have put them all in her mouth at once and even swallowed without chewing.

  13 Though at the time it felt like an eternity.

  Chapter Eleven

  I had not taken more than a few steps when I heard the sound of gentle music and the cut glass edges of refined murmurs. I walked towards it to find a five-piece band playing at the back of a large bar. Ladies and gentlemen in smart evening dress wandered between the bar and the dance floor. If I had not known I was outside London, I might have thought we were at the Ritz. The music, the quality of the clothes, the décor, everything spoke of the highest elegance. I hesitated on the edge of the crowd, scanning the room.

  ‘Looking for someone?’ said a basso voice at my side. ‘A brother perhaps? Or a father?’

  I turned to see a man, much as Fitzroy had described him, standing beside me. It threw me that he had appeared so quickly. I wondered if Fitzroy’s trap had already been exposed. ‘My husband,’ I said. I gave the words some weight but smiled slightly so as not to seem curt.

  The man put his right hand on his left breast. ‘Ah, you wound me to the quick. You stifle my hope so swiftly.’ He had dark eyes and they glittered in the low light.

  ‘I did not realise we were to have entertainment tonight,’ I said. ‘You are playing the part in some farce?’

  Fitzroy would have been appalled at my behaviour, but this man for all his silly platitudes had an aura about him that made me wary. I noticed a diamond pin in his lapel. He was certainly not short of money. He carried himself with an arrogance rarely seen in an English gentleman outside of his own home. A silly simpering woman would not engage this man’s interest. He was a flirt, but he was a man who wanted what he could not have. I knew his type. For all Fitzroy might believe he could read his fellows, he had misread this one.

  ‘Again, she cuts me to the quick. Another thrust to the heart.’

  ‘I don’t actually fence,’ I said, ‘but I do not think the manoeuvre you are describing would be possible.’

  The man laughed, a genuine laugh. ‘You are charming,’ he said and held out his hand. ‘Forgive my clumsy attempts at amusing you, I am Count von Wolff. You may call me Otto.’

  I took his hand. ‘It is not usual for a gentleman to introduce himself to a lady,’ I said. ‘But, in the spirit of international friendship, I will overlook the matter on this occasion. I am Mrs Brown. You may call me Mrs Brown.’

  Instead of releasing my hand he tucked it swiftly under his arm. ‘And to think I thought this evening would be interminable. Now I have met you, Mrs Brown, I have hope. Let me get you a drink. Whisky or champagne?’

  ‘Champagne,’ I said, thinking of the earlier drink that was burning holes in my stomach. I should, of course, have asked for something non-alcoholic, but then I reminded myself I did need to lead the man on a bit.

  ‘Champagne it is,’ said Otto. ‘About the only good thing to ever come out of France.’ The barman served him immediately to the outrage of several other couples.

  ‘Fashion,’ I said.

  He handed me a glass. ‘Women’s fashion perhaps. I will give you that. But otherwise it is all garlic, snails, and onions.’ He held his nose. I have nothing against France, or its people, but I knew I must not contradict him on anything he considered serious or I would lose him.

  ‘Goodness,’ I said. ‘I do hope they are not serving French food tonight.’

  ‘I doubt it, my dear. I should imagine we will have good traditional English fare. So, what is your husband’s interest in our meeting?’

  I gave a tiny, and I hoped ladylike, shrug. ‘I have no idea. I am afraid I take no interest in his affairs.’

  ‘And yet you chose to accompany him?’

  ‘It is meant to be a treat for me. To make up for him missing our third anniversary. And the fact he ran over my cat.’ I added, the last part hastily having almost forgotten the backstory I had been given.

  He smiled. ‘But you do not seem to be enjoying yourself? Where is he?’

  ‘Off talking to someone, I imagine. Quite frankly I would not be surprised if he has forgotten he has brought me along!’

  I winced inwardly at this forwardness, but how else could I progress things? More discussion on food would only bore him and make me hungry.14

  ‘Surely not. You look so charming tonight – and three years, it is not that long to be married.’

  ‘I am his second wife,’ I said, glad to be able to embark on the agreed history. ‘His first wife died young.
I have a stepson, Nile, who is six.’ I couldn’t for the life of me remember what we had decided the child was called. I could only hope Otto and Fitzroy did not meet.

  ‘Ah, you have maternal duties?’

  I deliberately misunderstood him. ‘I like Nile very much. He is a charming child. Intelligent and mischievous. We are good friends. He does not remember his mother clearly and has accepted me.’ I saw his eyes begin to glaze over and added quickly, ‘In my stepson I have been most fortunate.’

  His pupils narrowed and he tilted his head to one side. ‘In your stepson, but perhaps not in other ways.’

  I glanced away in an attempt to be coy, but honestly how coy could I be if Fitzroy expected me to get the man upstairs in a bedroom before we had even sat down for dinner? ‘Ah well,’ I said, ‘all young women are romantic, are they not? We fill our heads with foolish ideas of love and passion, but the raw truth is such things only belong between the covers of a novel.’

  ‘To be so young and so cynical. That is a great shame.’

  I shrugged again, this time a little more energetically, allowing my shawl to reveal slightly more of my décolletage without it being entirely improper. I saw his gaze drop to my chest. ‘Perhaps life will yet prove me wrong?’ I said, lowering my voice to what I hoped was a sultry whisper.15

  Otto placed a hand lightly on my arm. ‘Would you like me to show you how wrong you are?’

  Inwardly I was torn between delight that my ruse had succeeded and genuine shock that a gentleman could be so forward. Was this how all bored married women were treated? My confusion must have shown on my face.

  Otto lowered his head towards me and said softly, ‘If I have offended you...’

  I pulled myself together. I looked up from beneath my eyelashes and felt a gentle blush heat my cheeks. ‘No. It is not that. It is simply that I had not imagined that you...’ I broke off, letting him fill in the rest to his own satisfaction.

  A smile spread across his face. ‘Go out into the lobby and climb the stairs to the first landing. Await me there. It would not do for your reputation for us to be seen leaving together.’

  I decided that an embarrassed nod was the best answer to this request. I placed my glass on the table, thanked him for the drink and left the room. I walked at a reasonable pace. Fitzroy had said he would be waiting nearby. The whole plan had been delivered to me so quickly I couldn’t remember the details. Did he mean near Otto’s room or was he shadowing me? I wished I had taken the time to ask. There was no guarantee that Otto would take me to his room. He might have some other discreet place in mind. I inwardly cursed Fitzroy for not planning this more carefully.

  I waited on the landing for no more than three minutes before Otto appeared. He nodded a greeting and offered me his arm. Then we began to ascend the stairs. ‘There are so many people here I doubt that anyone will recognise you,’ he said.

  ‘And you?’

  ‘My reputation is beyond salvaging.’ ‘That I cannot believe!’

  He chuckled. ‘You are very sweet. Have no fear, I will treat you gently.’ He took a step onto the corridor of the second floor before pulling me close to him and planting a light kiss on my lips. It took all my willpower not to pull away and slap him, but then Mrs Brown had fairly blatantly asked him to do exactly this. So instead I gave a small nervous giggle. His smile widened. ‘I see we understand each other. Come, my room is this way.’

  I then had an awful thought. What if Fitzroy had expected me to take Otto back to our room? My heart beat a little faster. No, that was a silly idea. No man would want to sleep with someone’s wife in their husband’s bed. Or would they? In my time I have had occasion to learn more about oddities of the male libido, and how they might like to satiate themselves, than most women. I had never been summoned to action, as it were, but it has been a close call more than once.16 This unwanted knowledge made me think that Fitzroy considered that this man might go for the less safe option to heighten the excitement? However, during the few minutes in which I had known Otto and had supposedly agreed to throw my marital vows to the four winds, he did not strike me as a risk-taker. An opportunist perhaps. But the two were very different kinds of persona. Something Fitzroy would probably never understand, as he was both.

  As we reached the end of the third landing, he opened a door I had taken for a room but was in reality the cover for a staircase leading upwards.

  ‘Gosh,’ I said girlishly. ‘How intriguing.’ Internally I quaked. I could think of several reasons for taking me up a secret staircase and in none of them did things end well – for me.

  ‘It always pays to be discreet,’ said Otto ushering me forward. ‘This way, if anyone has seen us wandering along the second floor together, I can say I wanted to show you the view at the great window at the end of that landing.’

  ‘I did not notice one,’ I said, mentally girding my loins and stepping through the door.

  ‘I shall take that as a compliment. It is a lovely vista. Almost as lovely as the one I have now.’

  Of course, I was walking in front of him. I heard him chuckle softly again as I felt every inch of my body flame.

  With my hair upswept my neck must have given away my embarrassment. ‘You really are too charming,’ he said.

  I should note here that what Otto said could have been said in a mocking or even a smug tone, but it was not. If I had been the kind of women to sneak off with him, and not a spy who was fearful her cover, or worse, would be exposed at any moment, I think I would have liked him. There was no pretence about him. No attempt at seduction. He had offered an adventure and been quite clear about what it would involve. I have no doubt if I had refused, he would have paid for our drinks and said good night, content with the thought that at least his reputation as a rogue would continue. He might even have continued the conversation if I was willing, even if I had not succumbed to his lure. I suspected he genuinely enjoyed the company of women – even when they kept their clothes on.

  I reached a door at the top of the small stair and it opened out onto the third landing. ‘See, there is nothing to fear,’ said Otto. I realised I must have given a sigh of relief.

  ‘I’ve never done anything like this before,’ I said.

  ‘As we have previously established. Believe me, the combination of emotions of fear and excitement is an intoxicating mix. I have no doubt you will enjoy other adventures in your career.’ He walked to room 327 and took a key from his pocket. ‘I only caution you to be very careful as to whom you select as your partner in crime. Not all are as gentlemanly as I am.’

  As he turned his attention to the lock, I put the small bag that held the chloroformed ladies handkerchief behind me and gently pinched the snap lock between my fingers.

  It did not budge.

  Otto opened the door, placed a guiding hand on my waist and had me through the doorway before I realised it had happened. Of course, in doing so, he had seen me fiddling with bag behind my back. ‘Shall I take that for you?’ he offered. ‘I find it is a good idea to keep all one’s possessions together as they are discarded. There is less chance then of anything being forgot.’

  ‘Oh, I wanted to... touch up my lipstick,’ I said. Otto approached me and stood so close I could feel the heat from his body. ‘Now is not the time for such trivialities,’ he said and removed the bag from my grasp. He reached up his hands and unpinned my shawl. ‘I have been wanting to do that since I first saw you.’

  I displayed more of myself than I wished, but perhaps I could use this as a distraction? I breathed in, inflating my upper body. To my relief the tight and low décolletage did manage to continue to contain me. His gaze lowered. Finally, I had the upper hand. I reached out a hand to the edge of his lapel and traced the outline with my finger. I spoke in what I hoped sounded like a seductively husky voice and not as if I had suddenly acquired an inflamed throat. ‘I want to look perfect for you,’ I said. ‘Please let me do a little touch-up.’ I reached out my other hand to remove the bag from his
slackened grasp. My fingers had touched the smooth sides of the reticule when, it transpired, I had done my act too well. Otto threw both shawl and bag behind me and gathered me in his embrace, crushing my arms between us. He then placed his lips to mine and kissed me passionately. I was wholly at his mercy.

  My first thought was that I had better never tell Bertram about this. My second was that without the chloroform I would never be able to overpower such a big man. My third was this man intended me no harm. He believed me willing. My fourth was that I had better go with it. I could pretend I was kissing someone else. After all things could go no further without us both removing other items of clothing, some of which, especially on my side, were not without their complexity. Fifth, I decided If Bertram ever found out I would say I was kissing him for my country and blame it squarely on Fitzroy. My final thought, all of these occurring at ridiculous speed as one generally thinks in these sorts of situations, was where the hell was the wretched spy? Then I surrender myself to his embrace and kissed him back. After all, I was pretending to be a married woman.

  Mere moments later than I care to admit, we both emerged, a little breathless, from the kiss.

  ‘My dear, if that is a taste of things to come, then tonight I count myself the luckiest man in this kingdom.’

  I smiled. ‘But now I really must insist on having my bag,’ I said. ‘I have a number of pins in my hair and I would not wish to leave them scattered across your room.’

  He sighed. ‘I suppose we must be practical.’ He handed me back my bag.

  ‘If you wish,’ I said trying my husky voice again, ‘You could always take the pins out yourself.’

  Again, the lock would not budge. Otto saw me struggling and took it off me. ‘Here, let me,’ he said. ‘New, is it? These fancy catches can be stiff at first.’ He pinched the lock and again it did not move. He tried harder, his knuckles whitening with the effort. My heart was in my mouth. What if the handkerchief fell out? I tensed ready to snatch it up. He lifted the bag up to his eye level and tried once again. This time the catch gave and the lip of the reticule swung open. It did so as he had his face close to it. He pulled his head up sharply. ‘What the hell is this?’ he said. He staggered slightly and dropped the bag and contents. ‘What game are you...’ His words slurred. I went for the cloth. I could not count he had taken enough to be made more than giddy.