Free The Trial of Marie Montrecourt by Kay Patrick Page B

on the pavement. There was a cab parked a little further down. She caught a glimpse of its occupant. His complexion was pale, and his hair was long, fair and wispy. He glanced towards Marie with piercing blue eyes – Daphne’s eyes. He was then hidden from sight as he sat back to let his daughter enter. As they disappeared around the corner, Marie climbed into her own carriage to sit beside Isabelle and an impatient Geoffrey ordered the man to drive on.

CHAPTER SIX
    The war was over at last. The Boers had been soundly beaten and the old humiliation of Majuba had been avenged. Evelyn joined in the national celebrations with Siggy. As soon as the celebrations were over, however, the recriminations had begun. There were rumours in the country that the government had not been open in its dealings with the people, that there had been corruption in the handling of the war. Spread by the government’s opponents, it was having the desired effect of undermining confidence.
    When the first war against the Boers had ended, Evelyn had only been four years old. He wondered if the same kind of rumours had been circulating then? Had his mother destroyed his father’s journal because it revealed some official scandal involving this man Montrecourt? It was just a thought.
    Relations between Evelyn and his mother were still strained so it was impossible to ask her. Though, if he was going to take his father’s place in the political arena, he felt he had the right to know. Lord Renfrew, his father’s closest friend, might be willing to discuss it with him, but he was an extremely busy man and was currently travelling around Europe on government business. Instead, Evelyn approached another acquaintance of his father: Marcus White. They arranged to meet at The Athenaeum Club in Pall Mall.
    It was a club not entirely to Evelyn’s taste. He agreed with Siggy that it was too stuffy and too formal. He preferred Whites, where William Arden, Second Baron Alvanley, had once laid a bet with a friend as to which of two raindrops would be the first to reach the bottom of its famous bow window. The desire to bet on anything and everything was still alive and well at Whites. Evelyn couldn’t imagine any such thing happening here among the Doric columns of the Athenaeum.
    Evelyn stood up when he saw Marcus approaching. He was one of the City’s most successful investors, but it was hard to believe that he was also one of the richest men in England by looking at him. It seemed that money alone could not buy style. Evelyn had long thought the man must be the despair of his tailor, as he always seemed to be on the point of bursting out of his waistcoat and trousers.
    “It was good of you to find the time to see me,” Evelyn said.
    “Not at all.” Marcus beckoned a waiter, and a whisky and a brandy were ordered. The two men settled back against the leather of their winged armchairs.
    “Congratulations on your maiden speech in the Lords, by the way,” Marcus said.
    Evelyn knew it had lacked the power of his father’s oratory, but it had been adequate. “Thank you.”
    “So, what can I do for you?”
    Evelyn hadn’t actually thought of a way to broach the matter that had brought him here. He didn’t know how well acquainted Marcus was with the inside workings of the government. He decided to tread carefully.
    “My father’s death was so sudden that it was a shock to me. And all these celebrations have made me realise just how little I knew about his time in Africa. He would never discuss it.”
    “He was a very modest man, and it was in all the newspapers anyway.”
    “Yes, but I’d like to know more than just the facts that the newspapers published. I thought, perhaps, he might have discussed things with you.”
    “Lady Sarah can tell you more than I can.”
    “His death is still difficult for her to accept. Talking about him is too painful for her.”
    “Yes, of course. I presume it’s Majuba you’re asking about. We all felt it was