Kiss from a Stranger Read online

  Shenda fetched it and, as Lady Gratton put it on, she saw that it was an expensive and a very beautiful garment.

  It was so lovely that she wondered why her Ladyship wanted it at this moment, when she was alone with no one to see her.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when Lady Gratton said,

  “You can go to bed now, as I shall not need you again. Call me at ten o’clock as usual and I hope you will be up early so that you can start on the alterations I have given you. Then we can fit the gowns later in the morning.”

  “I will do that, my Lady,” Shenda replied.

  She glanced around the bedroom to ensure that it was tidy, then went out of the room, closing the door behind her.

  Rufus was waiting for her in her small bedroom and jumped up eagerly when she appeared.

  She put him on the bed while she undressed, slipping into the pretty nightgown that her mother had made for her.

  She put over it a robe of fine wool, which had no ornamentation except for some pearl buttons and a narrow row of lace round the small collar.

  It was a robe she had worn for several years and made her look very young.

  But it was warm and comfortable and she wanted to read for a little while before she went to sleep.

  She had just sat on top of the bed and arranged a candle in the right position so that she could see clearly what she was reading, when she heard Lady Gratton’s bedroom door open.

  She wondered if her Ladyship was coming to ask her for something, in which case she was sure that she would disapprove of Rufus being on her bed.

  She moved forward to pick him up and put him on the floor when she heard Lady Gratton pass her door and move down the stairs.

  ‘I wonder what she wants?’ she questioned.

  It seemed strange that her Ladyship, who never did anything for herself, did not call for her to fetch whatever it was she required.

  Then she told herself that she should be grateful that she was free for the moment from being given orders and having to obey a woman she hated and despised.

  She knew both her father and mother would have been very shocked at the thought of her being involved with anyone so despicable or, for that matter, acting the part of a servant and even coming to London to do so.

  She thought, however, that her father would understand her reasons for wishing to help the defeat of Napoleon, who at the moment had almost the whole of Europe under his heel.

  It seemed terrifying to think that such a tyrant, a man whose cruelty had shocked and horrified the whole of England, should have only the British Navy between him and complete victory.

  ‘Please – God – let us – win!’ Shenda prayed.

  As she did so, she heard the sound of a carriage stopping outside the house.

  Because this seemed strange at so late an hour, she jumped off the bed and, going to the window, carefully pulled back the curtains.

  Below she could see the top of a closed carriage with a coachman on the box and a footman who was opening the door.

  Then she was aware that a man was alighting and thought perhaps it was Sir Henry Gratton returning unexpectedly.

  It was then she remembered that Lady Gratton had just gone downstairs.

  In which case, although she was in her night attire, she was perhaps expecting the man who had just arrived.

  Moving from the window and letting the curtain fall back into place, Shenda blew out the candle by her bed.

  She put on the soft velvet slippers, which matched her dressing gown and very very quietly turned the handle of her door.

  Her heart was beating uncomfortably because she was so frightened.

  As she peeped out, she saw that Lady Gratton’s door was ajar, which meant she had not returned to her room.

  Moving very slowly to the top of the staircase and, keeping back against the wall so that she could not be seen from below, Shenda listened.

  It was then she heard a rat-tat on the front door, so faint that it would not be heard by the manservant who slept in the basement.

  Then she was aware that somebody, and she knew it was Lady Gratton, was moving from the drawing room down the stairs and into the hall.

  There was the sound of a key being turned in the lock and a flash of light as the door opened, there were footsteps and she heard it close again.

  Then in a low voice Lady Gratton said,

  “I thought you had forgotten me!”

  “You must forgive me, ma chérie,” a man replied, “there was a sudden crisis at the Admiralty and it was impossible for me to get away until now.”

  “You are here and that is all that matters!” Lady Gratton said. “Come up to the drawing room.”

  Shenda heard them walk up the stairs and go into the drawing room.

  As they closed the door she knew that she had to hear what they were saying.

  The man had spoken good English, but she had not missed the French endearment and she was quite certain that this was the man the Earl was trying to identify.

  Moving slowly and completely silently on the thick carpet, she reached the drawing room door and stood still outside it.

  It was not of heavy mahogany like those in The Castle and she could hear Lady Gratton laugh before she said, obviously in answer to a question from her caller,

  “Yes, it was a most enjoyable party and, as I told you, the Earl is completely infatuated with me!”

  “Then keep him that way!” the man said in a deep voice.

  “Help yourself to a glass of champagne,” Lady Gratton suggested, “then we can talk.”

  “But first I must tell you how alluring you look and how utterly and completely desirable! I have missed you, ma petite!”

  For a moment there was silence and Shenda had the idea that the caller was kissing Lady Gratton and holding her close against him.

  Then he said and his voice seemed a little deeper,

  “I need a drink! Mon Dieu, they say that Frenchmen can talk, but so do Admirals and politicians and it is difficult to stop them!”

  Lady Gratton laughed.

  Shenda was aware that the caller had walked across the room to where there must be a table containing drinks.

  There was the clink of glasses, then the sound of footsteps as he re-crossed the room to hand Lady Gratton a glass.

  “A toast, ma chérie, to your beautiful eyes, your irresistible lips and your exquisite and very desirable body!”

  Lady Gratton laughed.

  “As usual, Jacques, you are very poetical.”

  “How could I be anything else with you?” he replied.

  Shenda felt that they must be sipping their champagne.

  Then, in a voice that sounded as if he was impatient, the man Lady Gratton had called Jacques said,

  “What news have you for me? And speak in French. It is safer!”

  Again Lady Gratton laughed.

  “You are quite safe here and you know that you always tease me about my accent!”

  “Only because I love your broken French as I love everything else about you!” he replied. “Now, what news have you for me?”

  There was a pause before Lady Gratton said in rather bad French and with a very obvious English accent,

  “The Earl is not certain, but I gather he thinks that the Secret Expedition is bound for the West Indies.”

  Jacques made a sound of satisfaction.

  “That is exactly what Bonaparte thinks and he will be delighted to know that his assumption is, as usual, correct!”

  Jacques drew in a deep breath before he continued,

  “I heard from one of my friends two days ago that the Emperor plans to scare Downing Street into dispersing its slender Military forces. Now he will know that he has succeeded!”

  It struck Shenda that Jacques was talking almost to himself rather than to the woman with him.

  Then Lady Gratton said softly,

  “I am glad you are pleased, Jacques.”

  “I am delighted!” Jacques rep
lied.

  “And I will – get – my reward?”

  There was a note of greed in her voice that was overeager.

  “But of course,” Jacques replied, “and knowing that you have never failed me, I have brought what I promised you with me.”

  “Five hundred pounds?” she asked excitedly.

  “It is here.”

  There was a pause, then a slight sound as if Jacques were bringing something out of his pocket.

  “Oh, Jacques, how wonderful!” Lady Gratton exclaimed. “It is just what I wanted to buy myself something very very special! Thank you, you are such a kind and good friend to me.”

  She was speaking in English, but Jacques replied in French as he asked,

  “And what about Nelson?”

  Again there was a pause before Lady Gratton answered,

  “Alas, I could get no sense out of his Lordship with regard to the Admiral. Quite frankly, I think he does not know.”

  “You don’t think that he suspects that you have any reason for asking such questions?”

  Now there was a hard frightening note in the Frenchman’s voice.

  “No, no, of course not!” Lady Gratton replied quickly. “Why should he suspect for one moment that I have any ulterior motive in asking what our most famous sailor is doing?”

  “I suppose everybody talks about him,” Jacques said reflectively.

  “Of course they do, but personally, I find that all heroes are boring, especially when they are away for so long that I cannot even remember what they look like!”

  Jacques laughed.

  “Nevertheless, you must try again,” he said. “It is very important for the French to know exactly where that man is. He has caused us enough trouble already by turning up where he is least expected!”

  “I will try to find out,” Lady Gratton promised, “and I do try, Jacques, to do what you want.”

  “I shall have some more questions of importance by the end of the week,” Jacques replied, “and any information you obtain will be amply rewarded.”

  “You are so generous,” Lady Gratton gushed.

  As Shenda listened, there was a little sound beside her.

  She was suddenly aware that Rufus had followed her from the bedroom and the noise he had made was almost like a sneeze, perhaps the dust had tickled his nose.

  Before she could move or realise what was happening, the door of the drawing room was wrenched open and a man confronted her.

  “Who are you? What are you doing here?” he asked and in the darkness his voice seemed to ring out terrifyingly.

  For a second everything was swept from Shenda’s mind except that the man facing her seemed menacing.

  She knew that if he was convinced that she was spying on him, he might even attack her physically.

  It was as if her heart had stopped beating and it was impossible to breathe.

  Then it flashed through her mind that if he accused her of being a spy, he might also suspect the Earl.

  It was then, as if her father were guiding her, that she knew what to reply.

  “I-I am sorry if I – disturbed you, sir,” she said in a childlike voice, the words coming jerkily from between her lips, “but – my little dog asked – to go out – and I am taking him into the – street.”

  For one terrifying second she thought that the Frenchman did not believe her and as if to look at the dog he moved a step forward.

  Then, as he saw Rufus beside Shenda, he paused, and as he did so Lady Gratton said from behind him,

  “It is all right. It is only my lady’s maid.”

  Feeling as if she was moving in a nightmare, Shenda bobbed a little curtsy and, holding onto the banisters, moved on down the stairs.

  She had gone a few steps before she was aware that Jacques had moved back into the drawing room.

  As he did so he said in French and in a low voice,

  “Il faut la tuer!”

  Her hand was on the lock of the front door before she realised what he had said,

  “She must be eliminated!”

  It was almost as if the sentence was burning in front of her in letters of fire.

  For a moment she felt as if she could not move because of the horror of it.

  Then, as she opened the door, Rufus went out and she followed him.

  The servants on the box of the carriage waiting outside the house stared at her in surprise as she walked past.

  Then, almost as if she was being directed, she moved slowly and unhurriedly, forcing herself not to give in to the panic that was sweeping over her.

  “Il faut la tuer!”

  It was what she might have expected, she thought, from one of Bonaparte’s spies, who would take no chances that he himself might be discovered.

  It seemed as if it took her an hour to walk to the corner of the road and into Berkeley Square, but somehow she made it.

  Then, when she was out of sight of the carriage, she started to run, moving faster than she had ever moved in the whole of her life.

  She tore up the side of the square to where the Earl’s house was situated and, when she reached it, she saw the lantern was still alight in front of the doorway.

  Suddenly she remembered with horror that she might have been followed and the footman on the carriage would know where she had gone.

  She looked back and, to her relief, as she could see quite clearly in the moonlight, that there was no one to be seen.

  She ran up the steps and, raising the knocker on the front door, moved it up and down, not noisily, just in case the sound should carry in the quiet of the night.

  She was afraid that it would alert the coachmen or the man who was with Lady Gratton.

  It seemed a century of time before the door opened.

  Then the night-footman peered out, his eyes a little bleary, as if he had been asleep in the padded chair provided for him in the hall.

  Shenda looked at him and saw to her relief that it was a boy from The Castle whom she had known for years.

  “Is – his Lordship – at home – James?” she asked breathlessly.

  She moved as she spoke through the open door to stand beside him.

  “Oh, it’s you, Miss Shenda!” he said in surprise. “His Lordship’s in there!”

  He jerked with his thumb towards a door at the other end of the hall.

  “I’ll tell ’im you’re ’ere,” he said, “after I’ve shut the door.”

  But Shenda did not wait.

  She ran across the hall, opened the door that she was to learn later was the Earl’s study and entered.

  He was standing at the window, which opened onto a small garden at the back of the house.

  He turned round in surprise.

  Because Shenda was so frightened and because she could think of nothing but that he must save her, she flew across the floor and flung herself against him.

  “I-I have f-found your spy!” she gasped. “And – h-he is – going to – kill me!”

  The words were almost incoherent, but nothing seemed important except that the Earl was there and that he would save her!

  She hid her face against his shoulder.

  As his arms went round her, he could feel her whole body trembling against him.

  “It’s all right,” he said quietly. “He shall not harm you.”

  “H-he – s-said,” Shenda whispered, “‘il faut – la –tuer!’”

  She could hardly say the words.

  Yet she knew she must impress on him the danger she was in from the relentlessness of Napoleon’s spies.

  “He – may kill you – too – ” she whispered.

  Then, because everything was so terrifying and because she was afraid not only for herself but also for the Earl, she burst into tears.

  The Earl held her closer.

  As he did so, he knew that what he had felt for Shenda was what he had never felt before for any other woman.

  He wanted to protect her.

  He wanted to take care of he
r.

  Most of all, he wanted to keep her from coming in contact with anything so unpleasant as the perfidy of Lucille, the cruelty of Napoleon’s underlings and the Social world of London, where innocence and purity had no place.

  Then, as Shenda went on crying helplessly against him, he realised that he had fallen wildly and irrevocably in love.

  *

  Lucille Gratton poured herself another glass of champagne.

  She was aware as she did so that her visitor was standing just inside the drawing room door with a scowl on his face.

  “Stop worrying, Jacques,” she said. “I brought the girl here from the country because she is a seamstress. She is young and stupid and I am sure harmless.”

  “You told me there was nobody in the house to overhear us!” Jacques said accusingly.

  “How was I to know that the stupid little wretch would take her dog out at this time of the night?” Lady Gratton asked.

  “She is dangerous!” Jacques said. “I will send some tablets over tomorrow morning and you must see they are put in her food or what she drinks.”

  “You really mean to kill her?”

  “She will be eliminated, which is a better word!”

  “Oh, really, Jacques,” Lady Gratton protested, “I cannot have dead bodies lying all over my house! You know perfectly well if anyone knew of it they would talk. And besides, she has come from The Castle.”

  “Even people who come from castles can die!” Jacques retorted sarcastically. “And it will be an excuse for you to sympathise with the Earl and make him realise how sorry you are that he has lost one of his servants.”

  “Oh, really!” Lady Gratton exclaimed petulantly. “How can I concern myself with servants when you are with me?”

  She set down her glass of champagne and put her arms around his neck.

  “Dearest Jacques,” she said, “I like you best when you are making love to me.”

  For a moment he resisted her and did not respond, then he asked in a different tone,

  “Is that what you want?”

  “How can I not want it where you are concerned?”

  She raised her lips to his and as he kissed her she was aware that she excited him.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” she said provocatively. “That tiresome girl will have returned by now.”