Just Deserts (31 page)

'Because there is no
time,’
Persephone
said. ‘Only consider. He cannot be here before this afternoon. He
will not believe me, so that we will waste precious moments in
fruitless argument.
Then
he will insist
that we remain to attend this abominable betrothal party so that we
do not create any scandal. And he will finally set off tomorrow—if
at all—by which time that evil man can have carried Indigo
anywhere
.
Across the seas
to France, perhaps. Or Ireland. How are we ever to find him
again?’

‘
Yes, but—’

‘
But if I go
now,’
Persephone
pressed on, ‘I may catch them before they have a chance to move
him. Recall that Bolsover was in town last night. With luck, he is
at present still abed, knowing Chid has gone off and cannot be here
for hours.’

‘
Yes, but you are asking me to pretend to be you,’ Penelope
said in an agitated way. ‘To make a public exhibition of
myself—’

‘
It is only what you have been playing at forever. You do me
just as well as I do you, Pen.’

‘
Oh, in fun, yes. But this is
real
.
It is an
imposture.’

‘
Yes, and you will contrive it
splendidly
,’
Persephone told her, apparently having no appreciation of the
reprehensible nature of such an undertaking.

‘
And if you do find Bolsover and the horse—not
that I believe for one moment that he will be there for I think you
are quite off your head—what can
you
do to retrieve
him?’ argued her sister.

‘
I do not
know,
but I dare say a
dozen things. At least I can
delay Bolsover
.’ She
suddenly smote her own forehead. ‘Papa’s pistol! I must not forget
to take it—though how I am to refrain from blowing the head off
that hateful man’s shoulders I do not know.’

Penelope was gazing at her with popping
eyes.
‘Seph!
You will
not
—oh no, this
is dreadful. I know you do not like him, but you cannot
murder
Chiddingly.’

‘
Dolt! I am talking of Bolsover. Of course I will not shoot
Chiddingly.’ A sudden mischievous smile lit her eyes. ‘Except I do
so in a fit of temper.’

Penelope threw up her hands, declaring that she would have
nothing whatsoever to do with her sister’s vile schemes. Persephone
at once became serious again, seizing her hands and squeezing
them.

‘
Oh, please, Pen. You will do it for me. I
know
you will.’

‘
I wish to heaven we had not been twins,’ Penelope
groaned. ‘And if you suppose Papa will not instantly see through
this charade, you are even more addlebrained than I
thought—and
that
is not possible.’

‘
Dearest
Pen,
I
knew
you would not fail me,’ Persephone cried, releasing
her sister’s hands only that she might throw her arms about
her.

‘
I ask only one thing,’ Penelope begged, subjected to a
ruthless hug. ‘Write to Chiddingly what you mean to do, so that he
may chase after you at once. For if I am obliged to pretend to be
engaged to him, I shall very likely fall into a swoon.’

‘
Fudge. Ten to one I shall be back before the party in any
event, and so you may be comfortable.’

But Penelope was not in the least comfortable. Not only was
she in a state of dread at the task her sister had set her, but no
sooner had Persephone left the house than all the dangers that she
might be running into struck her forcibly. She had been so appalled
at the part in her twin’s scheme assigned to her that she had not
until now given a thought to the risk Persephone was
taking.

‘
Oh, heavens! She will run straight into the lion’s den and
be swallowed up whole. And I shall be called to account for
it.’

She toyed with the idea of sending for Fitz, but she was
pledged to secrecy and she could not betray her twin’s trust. She
derived what comfort she could from the fact that Persephone was
not quite alone. She had been obliged to take a groom, for the
simple reason that she did not know the way to Wembley Green. From
the thought of the pistol Persephone carried she derived no comfort
whatsoever, visions of her sister’s lifeless corpse being brought
home on a hurdle chasing through her unquiet brain.

But even this fear paled beside the enormity of the task
she had been given and Penelope set about her preparations in
trepidation, her heart jumping and her nerves in shreds.

She must first arrange to dispose of herself for the
evening, to which end she attended at breakfast in the parlour
complaining to her parents of the headache, a fabrication to which
her unnatural pallor lent credibility. Clarissa was all concern in
an instant.

‘
My love, I do trust you are not sickening for something,’
she fluttered, coming over to place a hand on her daughter’s brow.
‘You are certainly a trifle hot. I hope you don’t have a
fever.’

‘
Oh no, Mama. It is merely the—the exigencies of the season,
I dare say,’ Penelope said, improvising desperately. ‘I am not used
to so much gaiety and—and dissipation.’

‘
Very true,’ Clarissa agreed. ‘We have scarce been a night
at home. And with all the worry your dreadful sister has plunged us
into, I vow I am astonished we are not all of us
prostrate.’

‘
Pooh, nonsense,’ barked the nabob, raising his eyes from
the letter in his hand and entering the conversation. ‘You are
beginning to sound exactly like your sister Harriet, my dear. I
wish you will strive for a little sense.’

‘
Well, really, Archie,’ said Mrs Winsford, affronted. ‘I am
sure it is no matter for wonder if I am like Harriet. We are
sisters, after all.’

‘
Ha! That is nothing to the purpose. Look at Pen
and Seph. And they are exactly alike.’ He glanced round the table.
‘Where
is
Seph?’

‘
She—she has gone to visit a—a friend, Papa,’ Penelope said,
a faint flush rising to her cheeks. ‘She will return
presently.’

‘
Well, I hope she does not mean to be late,’ worried
Clarissa. ‘There is so much to do for this party. I must say I am
thankful Harriet insisted on holding it in Grosvenor Square, for
this house is barely adequate for the purpose.’

‘
If that is a hint, my dear,’ Archie said with an amused
look, ‘you are wasting your breath. You won’t find me frittering
away my blunt on one of these draughty great mansions. Particularly
with Seph leaving us so soon. And I dare say it won’t be long
before Pen is off our hands, too. Eh, Pen?’ He winked broadly at
his daughter, who flushed hotly.

‘
Papa,
please.’

‘
Couldn’t expect me to be blind, my love, now could you?’
demanded the nabob, laughing. He then rose, bestowed a kiss on
Penelope’s brow and went off, saying he was going to East India
House.

His wife turned an avidly enquiring gaze on her daughter.
‘Pen, what in the world—?’

‘
Mama, don’t, I beg you,’ Penelope cried, pressing
her fingers to her temples which had begun to throb in earnest.
‘I—I have
such
a pain.’

‘
Oh dear, if I had not forgot,’ her mother said, contrite.
She rose from her chair again and came around the table. ‘Come, my
love. You had better lie down upon your bed. I will send for the
doctor, and—’

‘
No, please. If I could just be left alone to sleep, I am
sure I will be better directly.’

‘
Oh dear, oh dear,’ Mrs Winsford fussed, going
along the corridor with her to her chamber. ‘If it is not one
thing, it is another. I hate to leave you like this, but I
promised
Harriet I would come over to help.’

‘
You go, Mama. The maid can do all I want,
truly.’

But Mrs Winsford had
first to procure some drops of laudanum in water, which Penelope
promised to drink if her headache should get any worse, and to
leave a box of sal volatile by the bed and a plethora of
instructions with the maid before she could be induced to leave her
daughter alone.

Having got rid of the maid, Penelope waited a good hour,
screwing up her courage, before rising from the bed and sneaking to
the passage outside to make sure none of the servants was about.
She then used her pillows to create a mound under her bedclothes,
drew the curtains around the bed and pulled the drapes at the
windows. Going to the bed, she swept aside the drawn curtain and
decided the mound would pass muster as long as no one took it into
their heads to probe deeper.

Then she crept into her sister’s room, and, selecting one
of Persephone’s numerous riding habits, she put it on and practised
her sister’s mannerisms before the mirror.

‘
Oh dear, I shall never manage it,’ she said in despairing
tones, but, in spite of her fears, she began to be infected with
excitement at the game she must play.

She had thought she must have plenty of time to
practise, but in fact she had only just dared to emerge from the
seclusion of Persephone’s bedchamber and was about to descend the
stairs when she heard the front door slam. Her father, a copy of
the
Morning Chronicle
clasped in one hand, came racing up
the stairs two at a time, his brow like thunder.

‘
They have done it,’ he barked, catching sight of his
daughter on the landing. ‘Did I not say so? They have done
it!’

Penelope stood rooted to the floor, her tongue cleaving to
the roof of her mouth. Papa would be bound to know her. At any
instant, he would say something.

But the nabob barely glanced at her as he went swiftly down
the passage to the small family parlour, grumbling all the time.
‘It is a disgrace to us all. Intolerable! I must find those papers
at once.’

A wash of relief left Penelope weak at the knees. She was
about to retreat in good order when she recalled that she was
supposed to be Persephone. Seph would certainly never run away.
Besides, she knew all about Papa’s affairs. Penelope would have to
pretend interest.

Commending her soul to God, she drew a resolute breath and
followed the nabob into the parlour. Imitating Persephone’s husky
tones, she broke into impetuous speech.

‘
What has occurred, Papa? Are you saying they have
really done it?’ Done
what
? she wondered,
hoping for further enlightenment.

‘
Here, you may read it for yourself,’ Archie said, handing
her the newspaper which was fortunately folded in such a way that
she was able at once to see what had so enraged him. While her
father continued to search among the welter of papers on the desk
in the corner, she perused the article.

‘
Charges of high crimes and misdemeanours have been read in
the House of Commons against Warren Hastings,’ she read out. Then,
recalling her role, she added, ‘The devil they have!’

‘
It is that fellow Edmund Burke,’ the nabob
muttered. ‘And you see that he is asking for these charges to be
regarded as Articles of Impeachment. It is what we all feared, and
it has come. And you know what
that
means.’

‘
Of course, Papa,’ Penelope said in tones of assumed anger,
having not the least idea. ‘It is abominable.’

‘
You may well say so. Deuce take it, where
are
those letters? It casts doubt upon the integrity of us all.
If the ex-Governor of Bengal may be accused of corruption—and we
are talking of outright bribery and the receipt of illegal
presents, mark you, to name but two of these outrageous claims
against him—then we are all, as servants of the East India Company,
to be cast under suspicion. I say nothing of the ridiculous nature
of the charges relating to his governorship. Persecution and
incitement to revolt, indeed!’

‘
It is very dreadful, Papa,’ Penelope said, genuinely
horrified as she took in that her father’s own reputation was at
stake.

‘
Dreadful?
Dreadful
?’ he
repeated, turning his eyes from his desk to cast her one of his
stern looks from under his brows.

‘
I mean, I am shocked to the core,’ Penelope added
in haste, and suddenly inspired, began to stride about the room,
striking her hands together quite in her twin’s manner. ‘That they
should
dare
to cast a slur on your
character.
Ooloo!
Salla!
They are a set of
hateful
wretches
.
And if I could but get my hands on
this Burke. What will you
do,
Papa?’