The Stuart Sapphire by Alanna Knight Page B

spoke up, keeping a sharp eye on the closed bedroom door as if it might suddenly spring open and reveal its fearful contents. Then, clearing his throat in an exact imitation of his royal father, he whispered: ‘We went upstairs – just for a short while, to see how the shipwreck was progressing.’
    ‘There’s an excellent view from the windows,’ Percy explained. ‘We wanted to see what was happening – not to miss all the fun, y’know.’
    A well-directed kick under the table alerted him to the insensitivity of such a remark, as Henry interposed quickly:
    ‘We are delighted, sir, fortunate indeed, that you survived such a disaster.’
    Tam nodded, thinking how fortune had misdirected him into what had all the elements of a worse one. Already the path was lined with lies and deceit and a situation which promised to be increasingly difficult to escape from.
    He said to Henry: ‘You mentioned that you were absent for a while – can you be more exact – about how long would you estimate that to be?’
    Frowns and looks between the two indicated that calculations were being exchanged. ‘Until it got too dark to see anything more of significance,’ said Percy. ‘Of the ship’s final moments, you know,’ he added in tones of disappointment. ‘We understood that bets were being taken—’
    A scowl and a cough from his more sensitive companion who said: ‘We were absent for about half an hour, sir.’
    Tam made a mental note and asked: ‘When you returned did you by any chance hear any sounds suggesting a disturbance in His Royal Highness’s bedroom?’
    ‘None at all, sir. But then there never are any sounds – the walls are exceedingly thick in this part of the house.’ Percy tried and failed to restrain a raised eyebrow, an arch look, indicating that it would never do for such intimacies of the royal love life to be overheard.
    ‘And in the corridor – out there?’
    ‘Four household guards. Tenth Dragoons, sir, on duty all night.’
    ‘I shall have a word with them. Thank you, gentlemen, for your assistance.’
    Relief was so clearly indicated on their countenances, the door opened for him with such alacrity, as they followed him out, he was left wondering whether it was merely an unpleasant interview over or if they had something to hide, some vital clue withheld.
    As Henry was making the introductions, explaining to the guardsmen that Mr Eildor was an Edinburgh lawyer, Tam caught a glimpse of the grooms’ faces in the mirror. Bland, innocent faces in this nest of corruption andiniquity, as they bowed out to mull over his questions, their answers and, he did not doubt, the many worrisome speculations that their imaginations might invent.
    They could not be much younger than himself in years, but catching sight of his own reflection, he felt intensely old at thirty, as if too many of the world’s past sorrows, inhumanities and follies had been thrust upon his shoulders.
    He turned his attention to the four guardsmen who regarded him with carefully suppressed curiosity. Standing at attention, politely awaiting his questions, identical as painted tin soldiers who had leapt from a child’s toy box, their fresh young faces clean-shaven and helmeted, the only difference being that the weapons they carried were primed and ready for instant action.
    ‘There was an incident last night while His Royal Highness was absent watching the shipwreck, and he has asked me to ascertain the whereabouts of everyone in the vicinity of the royal apartments at that time.’
    Puzzled anxious looks were exchanged. Clearly they did not know the nature of the incident and nor was Tam about to enlighten them.
    Finding their unmoving rigid presence a little intimidating , he indicated that they should be seated.
    ‘Perhaps I might start with you, sir,’ he said to the one sitting nearest to him, who had been introduced as Warren and was the senior officer.
    ‘I was here, all night, sir. And I can vouch for these three