Rescue Operations (19)

Better work in Buda-Pesth than he had ever anticipated

Lord Gilbert Beaufoyle’s father, the Duke of Mulcaster, had most highly recommended to him that, did he venture into those parts where one might still find Turkish baths, he should avail himself of the opportunity to enjoy 'em. Though, thought Gillie, he had hoped to do so for perchance more sybaritic reasons and not to ease muscles aching from a duel. Still, had done most exceeding effective for that purpose.

Oh, he had come off the victor! Sure these Magyar Hussars had not expected an Englishman – and not even a military man – to be so adept with a sabre. But they could not know that Gillie, like all his brethren, had learnt the art of the sword from his father’s friend the late Viscount Raxdell, and had – somewhat covertly, 'twas not entirely in keeping with the pose of idle young wretch about town – kept up the practise and even extended his skills.

Well, even did it not come about to achieve his main target in venturing that challenge, he was now, such were the strange ways of men, become entirely the sworn brother of his adversary and his fellows and invited to go dine and drink with 'em the e’en, and, he dared say, go visit some house of pleasure.

That was a bridge he would cross – or not! – when he came to it. Lord, he was missing Rosy.

Here he was at the hotel – and what, the clerk smirking at him and covertly sliding a note across the desk?

Dainty stationery – scented – even before one noted the feminine hand of the direction it must be supposed from a woman.

Gillie’s heart thumped.

He slid a suitable coin to the clerk with a nod, and went upstairs to his room, passing a maid in the corridor that flashed dark flirtatious eyes at him.

Once inside, he made the usual search to ensure that there had been no intrusion apart from the legitimate uses of the place, before examining the note minutely, and then opening it.

As he had anticipated, it was from La Fiametta, that had heard of his gallant, his chivalrous action – was on tenterhooks to be assured he had taken no hurt – would desire to convey her gratitude in person – might he wait upon her in her dressing-room at the theatre this afternoon?

In somewhat ill-spelt French. One would not expect her to have any fluent knowledge of English – had never sung in London. Her own nationality was a mystery – Italian? – Gypsy? – Jewess? – Greek? – or a congeries of half the races of Europe? Rumours proliferated.

The appointment in her dressing-room suggested that this was not an assignation. To Gillie’s relief. Sir Vernon had indicated that there might be occasions when the interests of the nation required such sacrifices of him, and indeed, when he had first heard that, had almost considered it rather a lark. But that had been before Rosy.

So, after making a hearty luncheon, he set out to cross the river to the theatre in Pesth – sure this new bridge made that no great expedition!

The theatre doorman winked at Gillie as he displayed the note, and gave him directions to the dressing-room.

The door was opened to him by a plain middle-aged dresser, that dipped him a cursory curtsey and then went make herself scarce as he advanced towards La Fiametta, disposed in a becoming fashion before her mirror. He observed that she was more prepossessed than she had expected to be with his appearance – he might not be as handsome as Rollo, that a sculptor had once begged to model to him for Apollo, but the Beaufoyles were conceded a well-looking race!

He bowed over the hand she extended to him, as she made pretty compliments on his gallantry. Had one not from one’s earliest years been acquainted with those epitomes of natural charm, Lady Bexbury and Miss Addington, one might not have noticed that there was somewhat of performance about the charm the opera-singer manifested.

They conversed in French – Gillie bent his ear to endeavour to place her accent, for 'twas certainly not of a native of that land – as he took some pains to present himself as the Englishman abroad –

But how, she enquired, did Lord Gilbert come to realize that those wretches were slandering her? for she apprehended that they were officers of a Magyar Hussar regiment.

Gillie had no intention of revealing his facility in languages, in particular that it extended to that very difficult tongue, Hungarian.

Oh, he said, bashfully shrugging his shoulders, when one catches a lady’s name – and sees certain coarse expressions on fellows' faces, and then hears vulgar laughter, one must understand pretty well what’s afoot.

She delivered herself of various compliments upon the English, the Queen, &C&C –

That was it! thought Gillie, finally placing it. Ruthenian. From Galicia.

Understood, she went on, that Lord Gilbert was in the Diplomatic Service?

Gillie made self-deprecating noises and indicated that he was a very junior figure in the Service, sent about carrying messages – decorating tea-parties and such-like occasions – what his uncle Admiral Knighton would call learning the ropes of the trade –

But she dared say, she went on, that he might be in a position to talk to his superiors? She had quite the greatest admiration for the English, as she had already remarked, and it so perchanced that she sometimes heard things – for men were like to think of her as naught but a singing bird –

Oho, thought Gillie, while putting on a slightly bemused expression. So, the lady is a freelance operator and is she working for the Prussians, 'tis no matter of friendship and very like is also providing intelligence to the Tsar’s agents. Or mayhap even a sympathizer with those that spoke of freedom for the Ukraine?

Fell out most convenient that she had this opportunity to speak to him –

Not quite so perchance as she surmized!

So he conceded to pass on her offer – that he supposed would come in due course to negotiation over price &C – in the appropriate quarter.

She presented him with a pass for her performance, and a rose from one of the many bouquets displayed about the room, and at his departure took his face between her hands and bestowed a kiss.

Well, he thought, he had done better work in Buda-Pesth than he had ever anticipated, and he had some hopes that he might also learn somewhat to his advantage from going out revelling with Karoly, Miklos, Imre, Ferenc and Sandor.

Though would be well prepared in advance – have a protective device concealed about him in case it came about that he could not feign incapacitated drunkenness – and would be cautious about how much he drank.

Lord, but he would be glad to get back to Rosy! – always supposing that wretch her husband had not decided that his imaginary ailments required 'em to decamp to some other spaw – though Rosy had wrinkled her nose when he had worried about this possibility and remarked that he seemed to have found some lady very accommodating to his particular requirements, that might hold 'em in that spot for a considerable while.

But there was also a prospect that their superiors might find a need for Rosy elsewhere and desire her to persuade the Earl of the benefits of some springs, or some renowned physician, in that place. Or post Gillie to Copenhagen to go eavesdrop among the young officers for rumours over Schleswig or some such matter –

He sighed. Well, he should not borrow trouble, and should contrive to come through the e’en’s revels with naught but a pounding head to show for 'em.