Page 26 of Rogue’s Holiday

The first thing Robbie noticed as he and Jack strolled through the Banqueting Room Gallery on their way to the dinner to begin promptly at six o’clock was the heat of the rooms. The temperature suggested every fireplace in the Pavilion had been stoked to a hot blaze. They had been out all day, first riding, then enjoying the local taverns and finally scouting the best places for cards. Having experienced the cool air from the sea, the air in the Pavilion was oppressive and warmer than he’d remembered.

“I had forgotten how warm the king likes his rooms,” he said to Jack.

“A few hours of this and we will be melting,” came Jack’s reply. “Versailles is often cold with all the glass and high ceilings. Dieu merci, ’tis nothing like this.”

They had not yet reached the entrance to the Banqueting Room when a liveried footman approached Robbie with a folded letter on a small silver tray. “Sir Robert?”

“Yes,” said Robbie.

“This was delivered less than an hour ago,” said the footman, holding the tray out for him. “I’ve been watching for you.”

Robbie thanked him and lifted the note, stepping to one side to read it.

You horrid spy! You brood with hellish delight on the sacrifice ye intend to make of those poor creatures you took out of Cato Street on the pretense of punishing them for what you yourself instigated. But know this, on an approaching day when you least expect it, ye will suffer. You will pay!

The note was unsigned. A lump arose in Robbie’s throat and his hand holding the note went rigid.

“What is it, Robbie?”

He must have gone quite pale for Jack’s tone was suddenly serious. Robbie wadded up the note and threw it into the nearest fireplace. “Nothing important. In any event, it can wait. Let us proceed.”

They walked through the large opening before them and into the Banqueting Room. For a moment, Robbie was distracted by the grandeur around them.

People milled about the long table set for twenty guests. From a shallow dome above the center of the room painted with palm fronds, there hung a magnificent crystal chandelier suspended from the claws of the silvered dragon.

Jack gazed up at the ceiling. “Mon Dieu! It is as you say! Fantastique.”

Above the dangling crystals of the extravagant chandelier were six smaller dragons exhaling light through lotus glass shades of gas lamps. Robbie had seen it before but, still, the workmanship never ceased to amaze him.

“’Tis dazzling,” Jack murmured. “However, the room smells like a bordello. Too much scent, even for a Frenchman.”

Robbie nodded his agreement but his mind was elsewhere. How have they found me? And if all the conspirators were captured who could have authored the note?

The same footman who had delivered the missive approached. “Sir Robert and Monsieur le vicomte, may I show you to your seats?”

Robbie wanted to ask him if he recognized who had brought the note but did not wish to draw attention to his interest in the matter. Instead, he nodded and, with Jack beside him, followed the footman farther into the room, past wall panels featuring scenes of the royal court of ancient China.

Against the tall windows covering the left side of the large room, servers stood at side tables pouring red wine into decanters. The sun had not yet set and light poured into the room adding to the heat from the fireplaces and gas lanterns, making the room’s temperature nearly unbearable.

Down the middle of the main table marched golden candelabra and baskets spilling over with grapes and other fruits.

“Your seats,” the footman said, gesturing to two chairs, one on either side of a lady. As she turned to look up at him, Robbie recognized Lady Lade, wife of Sir John Lade. Though she was seated, he recalled her being a very tall woman at six feet, who her friends fondly referred to as “the Amazon”.

“Good evening, my lady,” he said. “May I introduce you to my uncle, the vicomte de Saintonge, or, as he would prefer, M’sieur Donet?”

Jack bowed over her offered hand. “Enchanté.”

Letty returned him a wide grin of approval. “A Frenchman, how merveilleux. Are you as much of a devil as your nephew? And do you ride?”

“Oui to both, my lady,” Jack said in a tone of feigned innocence, belied by the sly grin that accompanied it.

“Then the evening promises to be quite memorable,” she said, returning his grin. “Wait until I tell Sir John. He’s just over there.” She gestured across the table. “Too far for him to hear in this crowd.”

The conversations that filled the Banqueting Room had risen to a cacophony and, agreeing he could not be heard, Robbie waved to Sir John.

As Robbie took his seat on her right, Letty said, “What’s this I hear of you being made a baronet?” When he did not reply, she said, “You devil! You’ve done something very brave, haven’t you?”

“I cannot imagine what,” Robbie said with a shrug. He intended to reveal nothing.