Alix smiled graciously. “It’s quite all right. I think we’ve cleared it all up. It was just a little misunderstanding, was it not, Lady Molesey?”

  “But Mama!” Eloise whined. Her mother held up her fan, sporting green ostrich plumes.

  “That’s enough, Eloise.”

  There was a moment’s silence.

  “So what does bring you here, Isabella?”

  “I’m staying at the palace, at present.” Isabella didn’t know what else to say. She wasn’t about to tell of all that had happened since she left their house, a lifetime ago.

  “She saved my life,” said Alix simply, with a look at Lady Molesey that dared her to ask any more.

  “Oh … well, jolly good show.” Lady Molesey fidgeted with her fan.

  Isabella smiled. “Have you enjoyed being home, Lady Molesey?”

  Lady Molesey started to fan herself.

  “Oh yes, what fun we are having. So nice to have a bit of civilised company, at last.” Then she caught sight of Isabella’s face. “Well, India is wonderful, of course, but it is especially nice to talk to someone different. You know how insular India can be.”

  Isabella thought it was time to have some fun.

  “Lady Molesey, do you remember Mrs Jolyon?”

  Lady Molesey’s flushed cheeks were turning a more natural colour as she regained her composure.

  “Lady Jolyon? No, I don’t think …”

  “No, not, Lady Jolyon. Mrs Jolyon.”

  “Oh.” Lady Molesey’s face fell at the prospect of an acquaintance without a title. “No, I don’t think I do.”

  “You met her on board. She was a friend of Mrs Trotter’s.”

  Lady Molesey’s face changed.

  “Oh, yes, I do remember. The governess, from Cawnpore, used to work for Millie March?”

  “That’s right.” Isabella pointed over to where Mrs Jolyon was sitting with some of the other servants who had accompanied their families. “She’s the Princess’s governess now,” said Isabella, enjoying the look on Lady Molesey’s and Eloise’s faces. “It’s a pity we didn’t spend more time with her on board. I’m sure Eloise and the Princess are the same age. Perhaps they would have become friends,” she added.

  Let them stew over that.

  Above the noise of the jolly crowd Isabella heard the distant toll of a bell chiming the hour. It must be eight o’clock. Another smartly dressed youth presented himself to Alix, bowing at the waist.

  “Your Majesty, may I have the pleasure?”

  Eloise’s mouth fell open. “Isn’t that one of the Prussian dukes?”

  Lady Molesey’s fanning intensified. “I rather think it was.”

  Isabella curtsied. “If you will excuse me …”

  She made to move away towards the stairs. If luck were on her side she would never have to see them again. As she passed Mrs Jolyon’s table, Mrs Jolyon got up.

  “Well done! Did the Princess put them in their place?”

  Isabella smiled.

  “Yes, you should have seen it. It was immensely satisfying.”

  Mrs Jolyon nodded and rummaged in her evening bag. “A part of me wishes I had. By the way, someone’s just given me this.”

  Mrs Jolyon handed her a crumpled piece of paper. On it was her name in a badly fashioned hand. Zach must have paid someone to write it for him. “Meet you outside the side gates. Good luck.”

  “Is that from whom I think it is?” said Mrs Jolyon, smiling.

  Isabella nodded. “I’m meeting my friends tonight …” Then unable to keep it to herself any longer, she added, “Zachariah has bought me a boat ticket home.”

  Mrs Jolyon’s eyes widened. “Not on the new clipper? The one that leaves tonight?”

  Isabella laughed. “Yes, that’s the one. I can’t believe it.”

  Mrs Jolyon looked puzzled. “But how could you afford it? The tickets were listed in the paper as being twelve pounds.”

  Isabella gazed at Mrs Jolyon. Could she tell her the truth? Excited as she was, something stopped her. The stakes were too high. Instead, Isabella patted her waistline, which bulged slightly.

  “It’s what I’ve been saving for. Zachariah managed to sell a couple of trinkets I … er … came across.”

  Mrs Jolyon held up her hand, but she was smiling. “Don’t tell me anything I shouldn’t know.” Then she looked over towards Alix. “You haven’t told her yet?” Isabella shook her head. “She’ll miss you terribly.”

  Isabella nodded.

  “I know. You’ll be here to look after her, though, won’t you? You’ll stay?”

  A strange vacant look came over Mrs Jolyon’s face, as if she had stepped out of her body for a moment.

  “Mrs Jolyon?” Isabella put her hand on Mrs Jolyon’s arm.

  “Oh, Isabella.” Mrs Jolyon’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking of Christopher and how much I miss him.” She rubbed her eyes. “Sorry, I must get myself under control. It’s probably because I’m going to miss you, too. I’ve always hated goodbyes.”

  Isabella hugged her.

  “Mrs Jolyon, I’ll miss you, too – so much! I wish you could come with me.”

  “I wish I was going with you. It will be spring when you get home. The hibiscus will be out and all the partridge chicks running about. How wonderful.”

  “Is there anything I can take for you, Mrs Jolyon? Something for Christopher I can post when I am there?” Isabella felt a little breathless at the possibility of her dream coming true in such a short time.

  Mrs Jolyon’s face lit up.

  “Oh, Isabella, that would be wonderful. Do you have space for a letter? He does so love to get my letters.”

  “Of course. Why don’t you get it now, then I’ll go and pack.”

  Mrs Jolyon rushed off and Isabella took her seat with the other ladies’ maids and governesses who were now discussing the Duchesses jewels. Over the shifting shoulders of dancing couples, she could see the clock in the hall; it was twenty minutes to nine. She had just enough time to collect her bag, the painting, make her goodbyes and slip out to meet Zach. She was excited to see him and Midge – Midge especially. It seemed for every happiness, there was always a sadness. She would get to see Midge, but in doing so, she’d have to say goodbye to Alix.

  “Do you know Mrs Jolyon well?” asked a pale-faced maid, sitting on her right.

  They had obviously tired of the discussion of clothes, and were now looking for something else to talk about, but Isabella didn’t want to get involved. Instead she wanted to take in the beauty of her surroundings so she could tell the children all about it, without leaving anything out.

  “Here we are.”

  Mrs Jolyon, out of breath, surreptitiously gave her a heavy letter, sealed with wax. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I’ve put in some money. If I didn’t seal it, it would surely go missing.”

  Mrs Jolyon was leaning down close to Isabella’s ear and Isabella laughed inwardly as she could see the ladies who sat around her straining to catch every word. She tucked the letter into her bodice and stood up. She looked over towards Alix.

  “Will you be here for a while?” she asked. It was going to take some time before she felt comfortable about leaving Alix, despite at least twenty guards in the room.

  Mrs Jolyon fortunately seemed to understand.

  “You go on. I’ll be here until you get back. You will say goodbye when you’re ready, won’t you?”

  “Of course I will. I’d never hear the end of it from you-know-who.”

  Then, checking Alix was still happily twirling around the room, she slipped through the throng watching the dancing, out into the hall.

  Her father’s satchel was still packed from the day before, and she slid Mrs Jolyon’s letter in next to Abhaya’s pouch. She took off her dress and hung it carefully in the wardrobe. Then she put on her street clothes, now sweet-smelling and neatly darned.

  That was better; much more like herself.

  Finally, she re-wrapped the Caravaggio in Abhaya’s sari and put it on top of the the pouch, so nothing would crush it. She looked around the room for the last time. The fire crackled and hissed, and a pot of hot chocolate stood wrapped in a tea towel for her to have later. She’d miss that hot chocolate, but it was time now to re-enter the real world.

  She took the locket and left it on Alix’s pillow. Then she took a last look at the Princess’s room, in which they’d had so much fun, closed the door and went downstairs.

  The little landscape painting from her room looked perfect hanging in place of the Caravaggio. It would, at least, buy her a little time. All she had to do now was leave the palace without being seen. As she reached for the door handle, to her horror, it started to turn. Someone was coming into the room. Without thinking, Isabella dived behind the sofa next to the window, but she was too late.

  “I told you she’d try and sneak off, just like a thief in the night,” said Alix to Mrs Jolyon, plainly pleased with herself.

  Isabella felt sick to her stomach. How could Alix possibly know?

  “Shh. What are you doing here? I wasn’t sneaking off. I was just about to come and find you,” hissed Isabella, the painting burning a hole in her satchel.

  “I only wanted to come and say goodbye,” said Alix, going a bit pink. “Just this once I wanted to act like a normal person, and come and wave you off. I know you’re going to meet your friends. Let me meet them, too.” Her eyes were pleading in her flushed face.

  Seeing that Alix knew nothing of the picture, Isabella relaxed a little.

  “Oh, come on then, but you’re going to get into trouble.”

  Alix giggled. “I won’t be here any more to face the music. Let’s go this way. They’ll be coming out for fireworks in a moment. We need to get to the side gate before they open the terrace doors.”

  She hurried them down the corridor and out through a little-used door near the kitchens. The sounds of slamming doors and chefs shouting came clearly through the open windows, and they stood for a moment in the icy night, their breath billowing out in front of them.

  “Which gate?”

  “The one nearest to Kensington.”

  Alix set off again towards a bank of high yews, which lay at the bottom of a grassy slope. She was going at a fast pace, obviously enjoying the adventure.

  “It’s so wonderful not to have any guards around. Uncle Ernest has tripled the watch, I think. Every time I turned around on that dance floor I nearly fell over one of them.”

  Isabella’s laugh was clear and bell-like.

  Just ahead of them, next to a wrought-iron gate shining dully in the moonlight, a figure stepped out onto the stone path. Mrs Jolyon jumped, but Isabella started to run. It was Midge.

  He hurled his arms around her waist and she hugged him back with all her might.

  “All right?” he mumbled into her coat.

  “Yes, Midge. I am all right,” she replied.

  He lifted his head up and looked around, and, seeing the others, he untangled himself from Isabella.

  Zach and Ruby detached themselves from the shadows of the yews.

  “There you are! We’ve been ’ere ages,” said Zach.

  Isabella walked up to him and prodded him with her finger.

  “No you have not. You just got here – those are fresh footprints. And anyway, we’re early.”

  “Who’s we?” Smiled Zach.

  Isabella turned around proudly to Alix and Mrs Jolyon.

  “Alix, these are my friends. May I present Midge and Ruby Thompson and Zachariah Graves.”

  Ruby had already dropped a deep and graceful curtsey, and Midge bowed clumsily. Zach was the only one not to be intimidated by meeting the heir to the throne.

  “How do, Your Majesty.”

  Alix smiled. “I do very well, thank you.” Even in the moonlight, Isabella could see Alix was blushing.

  Isabella pulled Mrs Jolyon forward.

  “This is Mrs Jolyon. She and I came over on the boat together. I don’t know what I would have done without her …”

  “Why, what’s been happening?” asked Zach.

  “I don’t think I’ve time to tell you now. I’ll tell you on the way to the boat.”

  Mrs Jolyon nodded.

  “I think that would be better. I worry the Princess might be missed, then we will all be in trouble.” She laughed.

  Zach nodded.

  “The tide turns at eleven, so the boat leaves at midnight or thereabouts. It will take us an hour to get over to the docks, so we should leave now.”

  Isabella gulped at the approach of the moment she’d been dreading, but Alix sensed her distress.

  “Pull yourself together, Rockwell. You’re a soldier’s daughter.” Alix shook her by the shoulders. “I’ll see you again one day. This isn’t goodbye for ever. Here …” She reached down and took off the heavy gold ring she wore on her little finger. “I promise you, on this ring, that we will meet again. Take it and wear it, and think of me.”

  Isabella held the gold ring up, so she could see what was on it.

  “I knew it was engraved, but what are these initials?”

  Ruby leaned forward to look over Isabella’s shoulder and then spoke in her soft voice.

  “I know what they are,” she said. “They’re the initials of Her Majesty, aren’t they?” She looked at Alix with raised eyebrows.

  Alix nodded. “Well done, Ruby. You can read!”

  Ruby blushed. “Well, a little.”

  “Do you know what they stand for?” asked Isabella. “I know the A and the H, but what’s the V in the middle for?”

  “It’s V for Victoria, isn’t it, Your Majesty?”

  “That’s right. It’s Mama’s name.”

  Isabella held the ring so it shone in the moonlight. “It’s pretty.”

  Alix sniffed.

  “Take the ring and keep it safe. Try not to sell it – well, not unless you have to.”

  Isabella held Alix close to her, her heart beating and her throat closing with tears.

  “Goodbye,” she muttered. “Please take care.”

  Alix smiled. “I will. And Isabella …” Isabella had turned away to wipe her eyes on her sleeve. “Thank you.”

  Isabella gave Mrs Jolyon a swift hug, and then she and the others tiptoed out of the gate. When she turned to look behind her, she could see Alix, her hand still raised, standing on a grass knoll, then Zach led her through a gap in the trees and Isabella lost sight of her.

  None of them spoke until they reached Knightbridge. To Isabella it was like waking from a dream, being out in the lamplight and chilly bustle of a main road.

  “I think it’s best we cut across the park. That’s probably the quickest route,” said Zach.

  “Let’s take a hackney carriage,” said Isabella recklessly. “We’re rich now.”

  Zachariah did a double take.

  “Are we?”

  Isabella nodded, smiling, and patted her bag.

  A smile transformed Zachariah’s face and he lifted her high up off the ground and swung her around and around.

  Laughing, she reached under her dress and took out a note.

  “Blimey, look at her. Moneybags finally started spending,” teased Midge.

  Zach waved over a cab. The driver was careful to take their money first before letting them get in.

  Zach sat back and said in an excited voice, “Let’s see it, then.”

  Isabella smiled and reached into her bag.

  “You can’t see it. It’s all wrapped up.”

  “Oh, go on, just a quick peek.”

  “All right, then,” she said, gently undoing the tightly wrapped sari.

  The gold and reds of the tiny picture lit their faces in the leathern darkness of the cab. They all let out a sigh of pleasure at the sight of it.

  “It is beautiful,” said Zach to himself, as if he’d wanted to make sure it had been worth all the effort.

  Isabella nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  “The fence said it would be. I’m glad he knew what he was talking about.”

  Isabella looked at Zach.

  “Do you know who he wants it for yet?”

  Zach shook his head. “Nah. That’s top secret. Probably best that way.”

  The cab bounced along.

  “Well, whoever they are, they’re lucky,” cooed Ruby. “That’s the most beautiful thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

  The cab stopped suddenly and Isabella wrapped the painting back up and tucked it into her bag.

  “What’s happening?”

  As Zach stood to open the window, their door was flung open. A burly Peeler stood, red-faced and out of breath, in front of them.

  “Alf! They’re here.”

  Isabella’s stomach dropped through the floor.

  “Run,” commanded Zach.

  Isabella looked at him for a moment, unable to comprehend what was happening.

  “I said RUN!” shouted Zach.

  Isabella was first to leap from the cab, past the outstretched hands of the Peeler and past the other men running towards the cab, their heavy boots clattering on the slippery cobbles. A crowd had already gathered, but Isabella managed to run through a gap, and turned in time to see Ruby and Zach run in different directions, causing confusion.

  But it was not to be so for Midge.

  “Oi, gerroff, you big bully …”

  Isabella could see him hanging like a cat, caught by the scruff of its neck, from the Peeler’s knotted fists. She paused for a fraction of a second and then, with tears blinding her, she sped on through the crowd running, running, running – to where? She had no idea.

  It wasn’t until she was in the deep dark of Hyde Park, surrounded by trees, with the sounds of Knightsbridge far behind her, that she finally slowed to a panting, gasping walk. She crawled underneath a giant laurel, icy and dripping, and sat at its base, rocking and crying so hard she didn’t hear the skidding footsteps on the path nearby. There was the thud of leather boots.

  “What happened there, then?” Zachariah’s voice was harsh with worry. “You blew it, Miss India. You must have told someone. The Peelers – they was tipped off.”

  Isabella looked at him uncomprehendingly. Then she got to her feet and slapped him, once, hard.

 

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