CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Marie

MEETING GRIBBLE AT breakfast that morning had unsettled her so that she kept to her bedchamber most of the day, resting and amusing herself with drawing sketches of Welbeck and its surrounds, including its eccentric owner. Philidor, she assumed, was occupied down in the ballroom with his captive attendants as had become his custom. That evening when Marie went to visit Elanor in the study, she opened the door to find nothing: no lamp, no candle, no girl. The black coffin had gone, and the room had been tidied. Standing on the threshold, she let out a silent scream into the darkness. Someone was playing games with her.

Back in her bedchamber she rang for the valet while she toyed with the ends of her hair, pulling them slightly to enjoy the sharp twinge on her scalp. When he finally knocked and entered, it was with a self-assured air that she sensed even though she did not turn to face him.

‘Where is she?’ Marie asked quietly.

‘It’s not a girl – a girl is what I fondle each night at the well, with a warm body and soft breasts. That thing is not a girl. I’ve felt her, she’s not real.’

‘I told you not to touch her.’

‘My apologies madame, but I did it as an experiment of sorts to help me understand my master better. And you of course, given that you created her. Your skill in replicating life is really most extraordinary. Up close, the chest heaving, it is all very convincing.

’ Marie looked at him steadily, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing her real emotion. ‘Thank you for your compliments but I ask again, where is she?’

‘I have moved her.’ The corners of his mouth moved upwards in a smirk. Was he trying to out manoeuvre her?

Marie’s temper strained against its leash, but losing control would not further her cause. Not when she was so close. ‘Where to?’

‘I’m not at liberty to say.’ He sat on her bed casually, as though he was the one who slept in it each night. His continued insolence was infuriating. ‘I can tell you that she lay as stiff as a doll when I visited her. Not my sort of entertainment – I like them to fight a little – but as you reminded me, I pass no judgement on His Grace for wanting her. I’ve made sure her new lodgings are locked with bolt along with a one-sided keyhole. And, naturally, I am the only one with the key.’ He pulled it from where it hung on a leather strap around his neck, then tucked it back behind his shirt.

‘You seem to think you are in a position to taunt me monsieur. Have you forgotten that I know all about your attempts to rape the maid?’

‘No, I have not forgotten that but it may be time we renegotiated the terms.’ He affected to pick at his fingernails. ‘I’ve been working so terribly hard and I do feel quite undervalued by you.’

‘Hard doing what exactly?’

‘Reading Philidor’s letters.’

‘You read everything that comes in and out of this house, don’t you?’

He shrugged.

‘And so this one for Philidor?’

‘The Bank of London.’

‘And?

‘And no more, until we change the terms of our arrangement.’

‘To what?’

‘You are keeping my secret, this is true but I in turn am privy to information which I know you will find valuable. So, I think we should consider the keeping of my secret paid off, so to speak. From now on, I am happy to tell you what I know but I want something in return.’

‘Such as?’

‘The only thing I really understand – aside from lust, that is – is money. And I never seem to have enough.’

‘I’m tired.’ Marie moved to close the window curtain. ‘No more games.’ She would make a show of conceding to this. She needed to keep him close. ‘Very well. I will consider your secret paid off. Now what is it you know about the commission, about Philidor, and what do you want in return?’

‘Here is the first piece of information concerning the commis- sion, as a show of good faith. I will tell you about Philidor after you have agreed on a little task to do for me.’ His eyes narrowed to watch her carefully as he delivered the news. ‘It is not enough in His Grace’s mind to have the thing locked up, he wants to be rid of it altogether. I suggested burying it in the forest, but he wasn’t receptive to that idea.’

Yes, thought Marie. And I know why. She was careful to keep her face an unmoving mask and let him continue.

‘I did hear him muttering about taking her apart himself. Perhaps he plans to dismember her like a pig. Who knows? What he does with her is his own business.’

The thought of Elanor’s limbs being broken and torn from her body filled Marie with nausea. This was intolerable. Who would do such a thing to a work of art, to a miracle? Surely Cavendish was not capable of such violence. He was in love with Elanor, wanted to keep his prized possession locked away for himself. Although what if he was seized by another delusion, akin to the one that had resulted in the disappearance of the real Elanor? He was delusional, but was he depraved? Perhaps he was capable of more than one murder.

The valet ignored her silence and kept speaking about himself. He stood in front of her looking glass and began smoothing back his hair. His conceit was tangible. ‘Now as to what I want in return, I know that the duke intends to provide for me in his will. But, I ask myself, is it enough? A small allowance for me to exist on, live according to a budget, limited in my ambitions because I had the misfortune of being born to a servant – no, I deserve more. A man of lesser character would have fled long ago. So it’s only fair that I get what I deserve.’ He straightened his back and faced her. His expression was a challenge.

‘And that is?’

‘Well, that I get it all! He’ll leave Welbeck and Cavendish Square in London to a distant cousin of his, that’s due process. But it’s his personal property that I want. The paintings, the books and the artefacts in the underground museum – together they must be worth thousands. This, plus an allowance, should be enough for me to live comfortably.’ He sat back down on the edge of the bed and flexed his right foot up and down casually.

‘And how do you intend on getting it?’ asked Marie. What had he been quietly concocting in this empty house left alone to ruminate on his greedy desires?

‘I won’t threaten him, if that’s what you’re thinking. He’s frail, the next shock will likely see him off anyway. No, what I’m thinking of is the will. I would like you to create one in his handwriting that makes me the sole beneficiary of all his personal property.’

‘You have a copy of his will?’

‘I know where one copy is kept in his rooms, the other with his lawyer. But it will be enough to change the one here. His lawyer is well acquainted with the duke’s eccentricities and won’t be unduly surprised, I think, to find that the duke has been suddenly possessed by the conviction to change it without consulting him.’

‘But the lawyer will be familiar with the duke’s handwriting.’

‘I know you can replicate it – I’ve seen your handwriting. You have such skilful hands.’

At that moment the valet put a forefinger to his lips.

Marie paused – she could hear nothing, but the valet’s open admission of his prying had only confirmed what she suspected. He had carefully thought through his scheme and her place in its execution.

‘Somebody is approaching,’ he whispered.

They both turned to the door and watched as a letter was slipped under it. Marie quickly picked it up without looking at it and placed it on her bureau. She kept her face impassive. Reveal nothing. Silence, then soft footsteps receding.

‘Your hearing is impressive,’ Marie said. A compliment to disarm him. And hopefully distract.

‘I have lived amongst these hallways my whole life. Receiving mail at this time?’ The valet raised his eyebrows. ‘A little unusual, I would think.’

‘It is nothing,’ said Marie. ‘Just a diversion Harriet and I share in, to extend her mind. Now, what were you saying?’ A second attempt to steer the conversation away from the letter.

‘What is Harriet doing roaming the hallways after supper? Surely whatever sewing you set her to work on in the evenings has been accomplished? I find it strange, that whenever I seek her out, she has taken to locking herself in her room and refusing to talk to me.’

Fortunate she was already prepared with a reason to explain Harriet’s behaviour. ‘Tonight she is doing as I instructed her. I have given her my books to read, and she has been a most enthusiastic student in writing her observations of them for us to discuss. Now, let us return to the issue at hand – your proposal. The information about the duke wanting to be rid of the commission completely is timely, but I need her location and the key. You also mentioned a letter to Philidor?’

A third attempt to restablish the conversation but the letter from Harriet seemed to burn a hole on her bureau – no, she must focus on what was before her, not get distracted and make a mistake by looking over at it.

‘You must agree to my terms first madame. You cannot have it all your way all of the time.’ He smiled indulgently at her.

It might suit her to agree to this proposition of forging the will. She was curious to read it herself but more than that, affecting to agree to the task and carrying it out would buy her some time. ‘Yes, I will do this for you. I have the skills, as you know. Whether it succeeds in the deception in not my responsibility though.’

‘You are absolved from the outcome,’ said the valet, with a mocking bow. ‘All I ask is that you complete it with the same determination, skill and perfection as your creations.’

‘Now tell me where she is and then I will relieve you of the key. I also want an understanding that I can visit her any time I please without obstruction.’

‘The commission is in the tower and here is the key.’ He took it from around his neck and passed it to her. It was warm from where it lay on his chest, she felt uncomfortable with such intimacy so she lay it on top of the letter from Harriet on the bureau. ‘You can come and go as you please without interference from me.’

‘And Philidor’s letter?’

‘The bank has discovered that Philidor’s diamond is a paste, and it is demanding he immediately pay back the loan. He is ruined.’

‘Aha,’ said Marie, she paused. ‘You are playing a most interesting game – and a dangerous one at that.’

‘Oh, there’s nothing dangerous about fooling a madman out of his money.’ The valet glanced at her bureau as he shut the door behind him.

But there may be something dangerous about trying to outmanoeuvre a madwoman, thought Marie. And reached for the letter.