The Trouble at Wakeley Court (An Angela Marchmont Mystery Book 8) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  The Trouble at Wakeley Court

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  New releases

  Also by Clara Benson

  THE TROUBLE AT WAKELEY COURT

  Clara Benson

  Copyright

  © 2015 Clara Benson

  All rights reserved

  The right of Clara Benson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed upon the subsequent purchaser

  clarabenson.com

  Cover design by Yang Liu waterpaperink.com

  The Trouble at Wakeley Court

  When the Grand Duke of Morania learns of a plot to assassinate him, he sends his daughter Princess Irina to school in England, out of harm’s way. British Intelligence scent trouble and ask Angela Marchmont to investigate. But dark forces are at work, and when the Princess disappears in mysterious circumstances Angela must race against time to find her, before the throne falls and Morania is plunged into revolution—or war.

  ONE

  Feodor, Grand Duke of Morania, stood at the window of his palace and gazed down thoughtfully into the square below. From his vantage point he could see the people scurrying about through the streets of the capital city, Vorgorod, and as always at such times he took a moment to reflect upon the privilege that had bestowed upon him the rulership of such a proud, industrious nation. The Grand Duke was not a man who took things for granted. He had worked hard to bring peace and prosperity to his people, and he took a quiet satisfaction in the state of things at present, which was in no small measure due to his own hard work and dedication. It was he who had striven to bring industrial methods to this largely agrarian country, despite some natural resistance on the part of the populace, who had done things the same way for centuries and found nothing to criticize in the status quo. It was he who had insisted that every male citizen be given the vote regardless of his wealth or position in society. This in particular had required the utmost diplomacy and finesse, but he had carried it off in the end. Little did his opponents know that the Grand Duke had some vague thought of one day extending the franchise to women, too—although he judged it politic to remain silent on this subject at present, since he was well aware that to introduce too much change at once would be unwise. Still, he relished the thought of the tasks that lay ahead of him in his quest to transform Morania into a modern nation and make it a power to be reckoned with on the international stage. There was still much to be done, but he was a determined man, and had no doubt that he would succeed in the end.

  He turned away from the window and sat down at his enormous, carved desk. He might have had one of the larger chambers in which to conduct his daily business, but he had broken with tradition, instead preferring to carry out the ordinary duties of state in a smaller, more comfortable, less imposing side-room. As he took his seat, a lackey hastened forth and respectfully handed him some papers.

  ‘The preliminary agreement from Krovodar, sire,’ said the lackey.

  The Grand Duke read through the pages with care, and shook his head.

  ‘This is not correct,’ he said. ‘It was all agreed quite clearly, but I see a sentence has been added to the end of the document which changes the meaning of the first paragraph entirely. It was most likely an error on their part.’ His face was non-committal, for he was a statesman through and through and was never unguarded enough to reveal his true thoughts before his inferiors. ‘Have the Krovodanian ambassador called in,’ he went on. ‘Let us see what he makes of it.’

  ‘At once, sire,’ said the lackey.

  The Grand Duke then turned his attention to the other documents in the pile and occupied himself with mundane matters of policy until he was interrupted by the entrance of another man for whom all the servants in the room stood to attention. This man was some years younger than the Grand Duke, but appeared to be a person of some importance. He approached the desk, bowed, and addressed the older man with a combination of respect and familiarity.

  ‘Good morning, Paul,’ said the Grand Duke. ‘How goes it?’

  ‘Good morning, Velkji Knaz,’ said the newcomer. His expression was serious.

  The Grand Duke looked at him keenly.

  ‘There is something, I can see,’ he said. ‘Bad news, I imagine. You had better tell me at once.’

  Paul, Count of Vorgorod and second minister in the Moranian government, smiled ruefully.

  ‘It is impossible to keep anything from you,’ he said. ‘Yes, there is something. This morning I had word from Everich. He is very worried.’

  ‘It is his job to be worried,’ said the Grand Duke. ‘That is what we pay him for—to do our worrying for us and spare us the trouble.’

  ‘I am afraid it is no laughing matter,’ said Count Paul soberly. He glanced about him. ‘Leave us,’ he said to the various attendants who stood about in the chamber.

  The Grand Duke nodded and they all went out obediently. Then he turned back to Count Paul and raised his eyebrows.

  ‘My dear boy, this must be serious indeed,’ he said. ‘What did Everich have to say for himself? Are we having trouble with the revolutionaries again?’

  ‘No,’ said Count Paul. ‘The threat is more deadly than that. This one comes from Krovodar, and is nothing less than a plot to assassinate you and—I am afraid—Princess Irina.’

  The Grand Duke was surprised. He frowned.

  ‘Are you quite certain of this?’ he said.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said the other. ‘The intelligence comes from an impeccable source.’

  ‘I see,’ said the Grand Duke. ‘That is rather tiresome. Still, is it worthy of our attention? Such a plot cannot come from on high, given our present relations with Krovodar. Surely it is a mere nothing which can be dealt with by them. I assume they are aware of the matter?’

  Count Paul looked even more sober.

  ‘I regret to say that you are mistaken,’ he said. ‘Everich has evidence that the plot was not only approved at the highest level, but in fact originated from there.’

  The Grand Duke stared.

  ‘Impossible!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘Indeed, that is what I should have said myself until this morning,’ said Count Paul. ‘It is all thanks to your efforts that we have been on such polite terms with Krovodar for the past ten years. However, it seems that some elements in the government are tiring of the dé
tente and have begun to talk about annexing Iszbicka. Their election was a close-run thing, of course, and the government’s position is weak, and so they are anxious to demonstrate their strength. What better way to do that than by directing attention away from the poverty of their people and towards the old enemy? Already there are rumblings in the street that Morania has no right to Iszbicka, and that the Krovodanians who live there must be reunited with their mother country. I am very much afraid that your name is being mentioned as the one responsible for having taken the territory from Krovodar in the first place.’

  ‘That is nonsense, of course,’ said the Grand Duke. ‘The Krovodanians have not ruled over Iszbicka since the fifteenth century. I don’t deny that my forebears took it from them five hundred years ago, but of course I had nothing to do with it myself. And they have made no formal claim to the place since 1894, if my memory serves me correctly. They like to bring up the subject on official occasions, but we all nod and smile politely and agree that perhaps we will begin talks on the matter in the next few years, and the conversation turns to other things.’

  ‘It appears, then, that feelings on the subject are stronger than we thought,’ said Count Paul.

  The Grand Duke picked up the paper which he had refused to sign earlier. It was an agreement allowing Krovodar certain rights to exploit copper deposits in the region of Iszbicka, close to the Krovodanian border. The sentence which had been added at the end could, if read in a certain way, be interpreted as giving Krovodar far more rights than had been originally agreed. It might easily have been put there by mistake, but if what Count Paul said was true then the thing took on an altogether different aspect.

  ‘But Paul, why have I heard nothing of this before?’ said the Grand Duke suddenly. ‘If things have reached the point at which another country is planning to have me and my daughter assassinated, then do not you think I ought to have been informed of the matter earlier?’

  ‘Believe me, sire, you should have been, had we been aware of it,’ said Count Paul. ‘But Everich says the secrecy surrounding the plot has been so complete that only now have his spies been able to find out anything about it. There were rumours of Krovodar’s discontent a few months ago, but they were no more than the usual sort of thing—nothing we have not heard before, given that relations between our two countries have never been exactly warm.’

  ‘No,’ agreed the Grand Duke. ‘The peace has always been an uneasy one, but I have worked hard to maintain it, and it pains me now to hear that it may all have been for nothing. What do they hope to achieve by my death? It is a bold move, and there are surely better ways for them to get what they want.’

  ‘I think the intention is to create a vacuum of sorts. Princess Irina is the last of the royal Ivanoveti line, and if both of you can be put out of the way at once, Krovodar will have the opportunity to seize Iszbicka—and most likely the rest of Morania if it chooses—even before all your second and third cousins have had time to return from exile and begin squabbling over the throne.’

  ‘It is a pity you cannot inherit, Paul,’ said the Grand Duke. ‘I do not blame my cousin for marrying your mother, for she was a delightful woman in every way, but the marriage came with many sacrifices. The people of Morania have never looked kindly upon morganatic alliances. They are not especially happy at the idea of a woman’s taking the throne either, but in this they have no choice, since Irina is my only child and all my distant relations are so eminently unsuitable. Still, I shall rely upon you to provide Irina with counsel and support when the time comes for her to take my place.’

  ‘I shall do it with pleasure, but let us hope that that day is far in the future,’ said the Count.

  ‘I entirely agree with you,’ said the Grand Duke dryly. ‘I am not ready to depart this earth quite yet, and if anything can keep me alive, the thought of a fifteen-year-old girl’s inheriting the throne ought to do it. She has all the intelligence and at least some of the sense of her mother, and I have no doubt that one day she will rule wisely—especially if we can find a suitable husband for her—but she is by no means ready yet, nor will she be for many years. She must finish her education first.’

  ‘Then you are still determined to send her to England?’

  ‘Yes. She will go to school. It will do her good to mix with other girls again, and I have no doubt that she will be happy to return to England. She has spent too long alone here in the palace since the death of her mother, and I am certain the change will do her good. She will be sixteen soon, and will have to start taking on some official duties, so it will be good for her to have a little freedom before it all begins. And naturally, if there really is a threat to her life as you say, then it is of the utmost importance that she be sent away from the danger.’

  ‘Where does she go?’

  ‘To a school called Wakeley Court,’ said the Grand Duke. ‘It is in Norfolk, in a very healthy spot not far from the sea. I have been impressed with what I hear of the place, and it comes highly recommended. There all the girls are treated equally, and no distinctions are made. Irina has been taught well and is not one to give herself airs, but it is a lesson that cannot be learned often enough. To rule a country well one must understand humility.’

  ‘She is a good girl,’ said Count Paul with a smile. ‘I have no doubt that she will do very well at school. But sire, shall you warn her of the threat to her life? Perhaps it would be better not to mention it, or she might become fearful.’

  The Grand Duke reflected for a moment.

  ‘No, I think it will be better to tell her,’ he said. ‘Such threats are unavoidable in our position, I regret to say, and if she knows of the danger then she can look out for it and help herself if necessary. She is old enough to understand, and I would not have her live in ignorance on such an important matter.’

  ‘But she will be so out of the way in Norfolk,’ said Count Paul. ‘Surely there is no danger so far from home.’

  ‘One never knows,’ replied the Grand Duke. ‘At any rate, I am glad I had not yet mentioned the plan to anybody, for it will be better to keep it as secret as possible. The fewer people who know, the better.’

  ‘That is true enough,’ agreed the Count. ‘But sire, you must not forget that Irina is not the only one in danger. What ought we to do about the threat to your life? We must arrange protection for you. I shall see to it myself personally.’

  ‘We will talk about it later,’ said the Grand Duke with a wave of the hand. ‘You have official duties to see to this morning, as do I. But first, I should like to speak to Irina. Kindly have her summoned.’

  Count Paul bowed and accepted his dismissal. As he waited for his daughter to answer the summons, the Grand Duke stood by the window, deep in thought. In due course Princess Irina presented herself before her father and they exchanged the usual courtesies. They spoke in English, as they were accustomed to do—partly because it was the language Irina had spoken from a child and partly because they preferred not to allow the servants to overhear all their private business.

  ‘Is it about school?’ said Irina. ‘When am I to go?’

  ‘Soon,’ said her father. ‘Next week, if it can be arranged.’

  Her rather solemn face lit up.

  ‘How marvellous!’ she said. ‘It seems an age since I was in England. I have missed it so.’

  ‘Yes,’ said the Grand Duke. ‘I thought you would be pleased. I ought to have sent you a year ago, but I am a selfish old man and did not like the idea of being parted from you.’

  ‘You’re not selfish at all,’ she said. ‘I shall miss you too, but I’ll write often so you won’t really be parted from me. And of course I’ll be back for the holidays.’

  The Grand Duke regarded his daughter with a smile. How quickly she had grown up! It seemed only yesterday that he had been presented with the tiny, mewling thing and had stifled his disappointment on finding that she was not the son he had wanted. But she had quickly worked her way into his affections and ever since then she
had been the light and the pride of his life. Naturally, a son would have been better for the future of Morania, but the Grand Duke was not one to dwell on what could not be helped. Under his tutelage, Princess Irina would come to understand the duties of state and would one day rule the country in his stead. Until then, however, she had many things to learn—of which one was an unfortunate fact about the position of royalty.

  ‘Come to the window, my child,’ he said. ‘I have something of importance to tell you and it is better not to be overheard, even if they don’t understand what we are saying.’

  Irina glanced at the attendants and did as she was bid.

  ‘What is it?’ she said.

  ‘It is not an easy matter of which to speak to a young girl,’ he said, ‘but I believe it is important that you know, for it affects you directly. I have heard this morning that some bad men intend to make an attempt on my life—and, I am afraid, yours too.’

  ‘Oh!’ said Irina. ‘Who wants to kill us?’

  ‘The Krovodanians. It appears they are not as well-disposed towards us as they would have us believe,’ said the Grand Duke dryly.

  ‘Is it because of Iszbicka?’ said Irina. ‘They want it back, don’t they? That’s where the copper mines are. They’re jolly valuable, I’ve heard.’

  ‘That is part of the reason,’ replied her father. He was surprised and not a little impressed at her knowledge, for he had not believed her to take much interest in these things. ‘Another part of it has to do with internal politics in Krovodar. Our deaths would help make their government more popular.’