Chapter Six

Amy Causes Chaos and Fitzroy Puts His Foot Down

I had no words to respond to Richenda’s extraordinary announcement. I knew her well enough that if she decided something was her prize she would not give it up. I stood no chance of convincing her that the voice had belonged to my own father and he had been talking about an altogether different gentleman. She had heard what she wanted to hear and accepted it as a fact. I bundled her in the direction of where I hoped to find Bertram. I would need his help in undoing this mess.

But we had only started in the direction of the more mechanical section of the exhibition when Bertram came running towards us. His face was red, and he muttered a stream of excuses as he pushed past other visitors in a manner most unlike him. He stopped in front of us. He was breathing so heavily speech was difficult.

‘Good heavens, Bertram,’ said Richenda, ‘you sound like a steam train. What exhibit can have caused you so much excitement? Have the Germans found some miraculous way to drain watery land?’ She gave a little chuckle, in no way concerned for her younger brother’s state. I, on the other hand, knowing Bertram’s heart condition and perhaps valuing him more highly than his self-obsessed sister, attempted to lead him to a chair. He refused to be budged but bent forward in an attempt to regain his breath. I leaned over too and attempted to catch his words.

‘Amy?’ I said after listening to him puff for a few moments. He nodded vigorously.

‘Oh no,’ cried Richenda. ‘Is she hurt?’

Bertram shook his head.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, stand up properly, Bertram, and tell me what is happening,’ demanded Richenda.

Bertram did his best to comply. ‘Tree,’ he managed to pant.

‘Did he say tree?’ said Richenda. ‘He must have gone mad. I am so sorry for you, Euphemia.’

Bertram shook his head firmly. Then winced and went rather green around the gills.

‘No, there are trees in the pavilion,’ I said. ‘I read about it before we came.’

‘How extraordinary,’ said Richenda, still not grasping the heart of the matter.

‘Richenda,’ I said, ‘does Amy know how to climb trees?’

An expression of enlightenment dawned on Richenda’s face. It told me all I needed to know.

‘Where?’ I said to Bertram. He pointed.

‘Look after him,’ I commanded Richenda and lifted my skirts almost to my ankles as I ran off in the direction indicated.

‘But I am her mother,’ I heard Richenda say behind me. However, a diet largely composed of cake has its effects and I quickly left her behind. I had to trust that Bertram would have the sense to wait and recover before he followed us. Obviously, Amy had not responded to his command or was unable to come down out of the tree. She will respond to me, I thought. Even in my own head I heard those words in my mother’s voice.

I turned the corner into one of the wider areas of the Pavilion and above the heads of a small crowd I saw the tree. Amidst its still green leaves shone the bright red curls of Amy. She was sitting astride a branch. Every few moments she put something from her pocket in her mouth, took it out and threw it down below. I could not see what or where because of the distance between us. ‘Excuse me. Let me through,’ I said a dozen or more times as I forced my way towards the foot of the tree. There I found Rory.

‘I cannae make the lassie obey me, Euphemia,’ he said. At that moment another small missile rained down upon his head. He caught it in his hand and showed me. ‘Half-sucked sweeties, the disgusting wee brat.’

‘Can she get down on her own, do you think?’ I asked. ‘Or should I find someone to procure a ladder?’

‘If the way she got up there is any sign,’ said Rory, ‘I would say she would have no trouble coming down it she wants to. Went up like a squirrel with a cat behind it.’ He looked up at her. ‘Amy Muller, you stop that and get down here this instant!’

Behind us, among the now substantial crowd who had gathered to watch this live amusement, I heard mutterings of ‘Of course she is German’ and ‘No English girl would ever behave like that.’ There were also comments of ‘Hoyden!’, ‘Tomboy!’, and ‘Apeish!’. But it was the ones about her nationality that bothered me most. Here was Fitzroy attempting to do his best to bolster relations between Germany and the British Empire and Amy, in her own way, was souring this.

‘Get down here this instant,’ repeated Rory. If I have learned anything from my mother, it is that one issues neither commands nor threats more than once. If you have to do so, then you have lost.

‘You’ll have to go up and get her,’ I said to Rory. He sighed and began to strip off his jacket.

‘It would have to be my good suit,’ he said. He handed his neatly folded jacket to me. ‘Either you come down, young lady, or I’m coming up,’ he shouted up at Amy.

Where upon Amy pulled her masterstroke. ‘You are not my papa,’ she screamed at the top of her voice. ‘Leave me alone! I want Papa.’

At this point an official-looking man with fearsome side whiskers made his way through the crowd, loudly demanding passage. I guessed him to be someone who was primarily employed to ensure visitors stayed the right distance from the exhibitions and to discreetly point ladies in the direction of the powder room when asked. However, this situation appeared to be all his dreams come true. In a loud, and not particularly refined accent, he called to the crowd to stand back and give him room. ‘Nothing to be concerned about ’ere, ladies and gentlemen. I am an employee of Crystal Palace and I have the situation under control. There is no need for panic.’ Up to this point there had been much murmurings and curiosity, but not, as far as I could see, any panic. However now the crowd had been asked not to panic, they began to get restive and wilful, as if wondering if there was something worth panicking over after all. Above all, the thirty or so people gathered showed no sign of moving. If anything, more people were joining them. A buzz of asides and whispered comments hung ominously over the crowd. I looked up and caught Amy’s eye. She grinned, the little minx. Then the official addressed her, ‘Is this ’ere man bothering you, young lady?’ His voice carried to the back of the crowd who, as one, pricked up their ears. Amy squeezed out a couple of tears and adopted a lisp.

‘He wanth me to come down, but I don’t wanth to, officer.’

Calling the official an officer did Amy no harm in the man’s eyes. He adopted an avuncular, if still uncomfortably loud tone, ‘There, there my dear. No one will harm you while I am here. You can come down.’

‘But I am thcared,’ lisped Amy. I mentally ran through the punishments my mother had allotted me in her time and decided that none were harsh enough.

The bewhiskered official turned to Rory, whose pale skin had turned an unfortunate hue. I would not have said he was blushing, because Rory would never allow himself to show such emotion in full public view, but his colour was certainly heightened. ‘So, am I to take it you are related to the young lady, sir?’

Rory’s deep voice with its Scottish burr was all too audible as he replied, ‘Not exactly.’ I am sure he had a good and clear explanation to follow that would have defused the situation if it were not for another official, almost the twin of the first, arriving on the scene. As he pushed his way unceremoniously through the crowd he called, ‘You ’avin’ trouble there, Alf?’

‘This ’ere man seems to have chased this young girl up one of our trees,’ responded the first official. ‘It’s not looking good for you, sir,’ he added to Rory.

Rory pulled himself up to his full height and began, ‘Now see here, my man…’ But Alf’s reinforcement had now got to the front of the crowd and to everyone’s amazement he rugby-tackled Rory. Although much shorter than Rory, he was somewhat rotund and had the element of surprise. Rory went down like a felled tree. I was some feet away, but I heard the audible outrush of air as Rory had the wind knocked out of him. The official went down on top of him and he disappeared from my view. I pushed my way to the front of the line in time to see the two men entangled. At that moment Rory drew up his legs and kicked out, sending the official flying. Any thought of calming the situation quickly vanished from my head as I found a large man in a blue uniform hurtling in my general direction. I instinctively attempted to dodge and managed to avoid the full force of the official careering in my direction. He still clipped me, but my sideways trajectory made it possible for several good-natured people in the crowd to catch me before I completely tumbled to the floor. My hat went over my eyes and I lost my view. What appeared to be a friendly couple helped me to my feet and guided me to a chair at the side of the chamber. I fixed my hat as well as I could, and Fitzroy’s face appeared suddenly very close to mine. I gave a little squeak of surprise. Behind him I could hear what I unfortunately knew to be the sounds of a brawl breaking out.

‘That child is hell-spawn,’ said Fitzroy so softly only I heard. He then turned and murmured thanks to the closest of my rescuers, leading them to believe I was his responsibility.

‘What did you say?’ I protested, attempting to rise. Fitzroy took my arm in a vice-like grip and began to escort me away from the scene.

‘That you are my wife and of a nervous disposition. You need air, or you will faint.’ He added in an undertone, ‘Don’t protest. I have already indicated you have a disposition to hysteria and you don’t want me to slap you, do you?’

‘But I have to go back and help,’ I said, pulling uselessly against him. For a man who did not appear very muscular, his strength was shockingly iron-like.

‘That girl has already drawn too much attention to your party. You and I, and I hope your beloved swain, will at least escape public notice if I have my way. Don’t fight me over this, Euphemia. I am more than capable of picking you up and carrying you out of here.’

‘But that would defeat your object of avoiding public notice,’ I said through gritted teeth.

‘Perhaps,’ said Fitzroy. ‘But your soon-to-be relatives are providing a fine show.’ He grinned at me. ‘Besides, you know how I feel about losing - to anyone.’

We were far enough away from the tree now that I knew either a full-scale brawl would be afoot, or the situation would be sorted before I could get back there - even if I could manage to free myself. I capitulated and allowed my captor to lead me outside. Though I confess one of my motivations was purely self-centred. Fitzroy vibrated with anger and I did not want to be the one upon whom his ire became vented.

Once out in the fresh air, he strode quickly down an incline and out of sight of the building, still towing me behind him. By the time we stopped by a park bench I could hardly breathe. Fitzroy had not even broken a sweat. ‘Living with the Mullers has made you lazy, Euphemia. Tell me, does your maid have trouble lacing you into that corset?’

I sat down and sought my handkerchief up my sleeve. I had sprinkled it with lavender water before we left. I mopped my brow. ‘Don’t divert your anger to me,’ I said waspishly. ‘It was not my intention to come here and it certainly wasn’t my idea to bring Amy. At least not without some means of restraint.’

Fitzroy’s frown lightened slightly. ‘Such as a straitjacket?’ he said.

‘Nothing short of clapping her in irons,’ I said. ‘Poor Rory.’

The frown descended once more. ‘He handled matters badly.’

‘He isn’t a nursemaid,’ I said.

‘You’re very keen to defend him,’ said Fitzroy. ‘I wonder how Bertram would feel if he knew that?’

‘What?’ I said and scowled back at him.

‘Does he know you were once engaged to Rory?’

‘It’s hardly a secret,’ I said. ‘He is not pleased but it was a long time ago.’

‘But does he fully appreciate what the two of you got up to?’ said Fitzroy.

I stood up. ‘Stop right there,’ I said. ‘If I ever aid you again it will be for the sake of my country and not because you think you can somehow blackmail me into assisting you. I will not bow to such dastardly intimidation.’

Fitzroy gave a crack of laughter. ‘That’s my Euphemia,’ he said. ‘Thank you. I rather like being called dastardly. Do you think I should grow my moustache longer and wax it to be worthy of the title?’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘You’re just trying to keep me from going back inside.’

Fitzroy nodded. ‘I suppose I was also testing to see how open you are to the notion of being blackmailed. As I have informed you before, I am not a gentleman.’

‘No, you are not,’ I said with feeling.

‘I should imagine it’s all over by now. I am sorry to say, Euphemia, that my money is on Amy, not Rory. It would not surprise me to learn he was in the back of a police van on his way to jail.’

‘You need not sound so pleased about it.’

‘I am not. I could have used him,’ said Fitzroy. ‘Did you notice that when Rory addressed Amy, he used her full name? If things had gone against her, the crowd may decide to indulge in some anti-German feeling, which on today of all days would not suit my purposes. Needing to spring Rory from a jail cell would be infinity preferable to having to deal with the discomfort of the German delegation. Speaking of which, I have learnt that you were most helpful in convincing Klaus of the truth of Madame Arcana’s vision.’

‘Really,’ I said, taking the opportunity to sit down again as Fitzroy seemed to be in an unusually chatty mood. ‘I tried very hard not to be convincing.’

‘Exactly,’ said Fitzroy, leaning against the back of the park bench as if we were the closest of friends, ‘And, thereby, convinced him much more than if you had told him you believed in it. Well judged, Euphemia. I knew I could count on you.’

‘More than I can say for Madame Arcana. Her impression of my father might have been well meant, but it inadvertently convinced Richenda that her brother, who arranged this gathering, has turned over a new leaf.’

‘What? She cannot be that stupid?’ said Fitzroy. ‘What did Arcana say? I did not brief her on a message for you. Do you think I am turning sentimental?’

I frowned. ‘No, I agree, that does not fit. Perhaps it was merely a kindness she intended. It is not the first time she has impersonated my father.’

Fitzroy’s face showed what I took to be genuine surprise. ‘I shall have to speak with her. I do not like my operatives to be…’ he paused.

‘Friends?’ I suggested.

‘Intertwined,’ said Fitzroy. ‘Although I long ago accepted with you that Rory and Bertram came along as part of a package.’

I blushed fiercely.

Fitzroy gazed up at a passing cloud. ‘Although I always knew you’d chose Bertram in the end. Rory is even more flawed than I.’

Before I could reply to this extraordinary statement Fitzroy interjected, ‘And there is the very man.’

I saw his gaze had fallen in the direction of the Palace. There, descending the slope at a speed that surprised me, came a figure in dark clothing. Fitzroy’s eyes must be much better than mine, for I only realised it was Bertram some moments later. My shoulders released tension I hardly knew I had been carrying when I saw him. Being alone with Fitzroy is always trying.

‘Gosh,’ said Bertram on reaching us, ‘that slope is jolly deceptive. I had no idea it was so steep until I started down it. It’s small wonder no one uses this path. I can imagine all the dowagers tripping over their tiny dogs and going head over heels in a flurry of petticoats and paws.’ I giggled at this image. Fitzroy merely raised an eyebrow. He had sunk back into being enigmatic and sardonic - his favourite demeanour.

‘What happened?’ I asked. ‘And how did you know where to find us?’

Bertram panted slightly. ‘Forgive me for answering in reverse, my dear. Fitzroy arranged this meeting with me earlier today while you were in with Madame Arcana. Was it informative?’

‘I’ll tell you later,’ I said. ‘Tell me about Rory and Amy.’

‘Rory, Amy and Richenda,’ said Bertram, with the air of one about to embark on a long tale. ‘Do you know, she uses withdrawal of cake as a punishment. It seems most effective. Anyway, Amy was up this tree…’

‘The resolution, if you please,’ said Fitzroy. ‘Some of us are on the King’s shilling.’

‘The tree is fine, everyone else is a bit battered.’

‘A little more,’ said Fitzroy, his voice tightening.

‘Something of a scuffle broke out. McLeod’s got a black eye and has been banned from the Palace for life. One of the officials got his nose bloodied. The other left the scene limping and clutching his - er - personal parts. Richenda sent Amy back in a cab with McLeod to the hotel. The police managed to calm the situation. A couple of Red Cross volunteers soothed the nerves of various ladies. The tea shop gave out free tea. For the most part I think the women got their men under control. There’s a lot of talk about it, of course, being a little German girl that caused all the trouble, and Richenda is going around explaining to everyone how Amy is no more German than she is despite her name. Or at least she was until I bought her an enormous slice of cake and promised to go and find you, Euphemia.’

Fitzroy leaned forward. I caught a whiff of his cologne, spicy and masculine. I also saw first-hand the weariness etched on his face. ‘What on earth possessed the child?’

‘Ah, well, that’s the really interesting part. She said a nice gentleman gave her a tuppence to play a trick on McLeod. She said she’d run away from McLeod because he only wanted to look at boring things and refused to buy her sweets, when she came across this nice gentleman who asked her why she was on her own. She explained she was stuck with her uncle’s servant and what a boring old sheep he was, and he came up with the tree idea. She said she wasn’t sure, but the nice gentleman gave her tuppence for sweeties, so she thought she should. Apparently, he said McLeod had once worked for him and it would do ‘old starched trousers’ good to have a prank played on him.’

‘Richard,’ I said.

‘Do you think?’ said Bertram. ‘I did wonder. Sounds like the kind of thing he’d do. Always was a spiteful child. Used to lock me in a cupboard so I missed tea when we were young. Used to eat my share of the buns.’ The memory of this indignity caused my beloved to frown deeply.

‘I suppose that’s where Richenda got the idea to lock me in a cupboard, before she got away from him.’ I said.

‘Do stop your babbling,’ snapped Fitzroy. ‘Can you not see the danger all of you, even the child, were in?’

‘He’s a nasty man, I’ll grant you,’ said Bertram. ‘But he wouldn’t hurt a child, would he?’

‘He makes the majority of his income from manufacturing weapons of war,’ said Fitzroy. ‘Who do you think they are designed to hurt?’

‘Well, soldiers,’ said Bertram. ‘I grant you that’s bad.’

‘Bertram, I believe Fitzroy is saying that Richard does not care who he hurts. He is an unscrupulous man, who will use anyone to his advantage.’

Bertram glanced at Fitzroy. ‘I suppose it takes one to know one,’ he said.

Fitzroy laughed. ‘Touché, Mr Stapleford. But I, at least, am on the side of the angels.’

I was only half listening to them. ‘So, I take it that an injured Rory, Merry, Amy and two babies are now alone at our hotel suite?’

‘She brought the babies here?’ snapped Fitzroy, for once showing some humanity. ‘Has Muller lost all control over her?’

‘Yes,’ said Bertram. ‘And no, we didn’t know until it was too late. We informed Hans at once.’

‘Then you had better hope he has sent people to your hotel,’ said Fitzroy.

‘Why?’ said Bertram.

‘Because otherwise,’ I interjected, ‘the children, Merry and McLeod are in the utmost danger.’

‘You don’t think that Richard would…’ said Bertram.

‘Kidnap them?’ said Fitzroy. ‘Set the whole damn place on fire? I would not dare to predict what injury he would contemplate. He is as unpredictable as he is evil.’

‘I cannot understand his intentions,’ I said. ‘It is all muddled to me.’

‘That is because you believe him to be acting on only one agenda whereas it seems he is attempting to fulfil two objectives at once,’ said Fitzroy. ‘His main objective will be to unsettle the German delegation and undermine our efforts at making peace. Richard would make far less money in peacetime.’

‘The devil,’ said Bertram under his breath.

‘Also, gathering you in London gives him the chance of taking out all the children at once. I take it he is somehow behind the whole trip.’ I nodded. ‘It is one of the signs of his insanity,’ continued Fitzroy, ‘that he is determined to own Stapleford Hall himself. So far, his new bride shows no sign of obliging him with an heir. So regardless of what may be agreed legally, Richard is not one to take any chances. He intends to remove any rivals to his own future children.’

‘We must go back to the hotel at once,’ I said to Bertram. I rose to my feet, as did Fitzroy.

‘I am genuinely sorry,’ said the spy, ‘But I cannot allow you to do so.’