by Vella, Wendy
Geraint, they knew him as, and the Deville brothers had speculated about him often. Tall, well-built, he had a solemn demeanor. It was he who gave them their orders.
“My lord,” he acknowledged Gabriel and then the others.
“I serve bene tibi erit,” Gabe said. I will serve you, Nathan translated.
He wondered, as he often did, who else had sat here as they were and listened to Geraint. Other noblemen, they were sure. Alexius had started with ten, but it was now many more. Geraint had increased their ranks as the danger to their king and country grew.
“A source tells us of another threat.”
“Is there ever not a threat?” Zach sighed.
“This threat comes from Russia,” Geraint said, ignoring him. “We have reason to believe there is an English spy working for the Russians and it is he that is here in London. We think he has infiltrated society and is gaining entry into households to obtain information of a sensitive nature.”
“Which is?” Nathan asked.
“An informant has told us the information relates to the government and those close to the king,” Geraint said calmly.
“Then make sure those with that sort of information put it in a better hiding place,” Zach said, annoyed.
Geraint’s smile was small. “I fear some information has already gone missing.”
“Who is gaining from this?” Gabe asked.
“The tensions between the governments of Russia and Britain have been rising. Russia feels that we are too liberal in our ideologies and we should take a stronger stance in some things.”
“And this affects our monarch?” Gabe asked.
“He has many close to him. Many who know his thoughts and secrets. We fear someone getting that information and it falling into the wrong hands. Plus, any threat to our country is a threat to our monarch.”
“We can hardly know who has the king’s confidence,” Zach protested.
“I understand that, but it is important you understand the king has information that is highly sensitive, such as Alexius.”
There was not a great deal of noise in the room anyway, but just then everything fell silent. Zach was no longer exhaling loudly, as he often did, and Michael was not breathing through his teeth.
“And you believe the king has given information about us to another?” Gabe said softly.
“I do not,” Geraint said in the same tone he always used. It never changed. “But Alexius has foiled many attempts to harm the monarchy and indeed England over the past century. Many enemies know you exist, and some have even managed to obtain the identity of a single member, but not all.”
“As Ombrage knew Gabe,” Zach said.
“Exactly.”
“And you believe some Russian double agent wants this information?” Nathan asked.
“What I know is there is a threat, and speculation—”
“Your speculation is always grounded in fact,” Michael added. “Where do we start looking?”
“Start with your informants,” Geraint said. “Where there are whispers, there will be information. We believe this man is not working alone.”
“Excellent, more than one double agent,” Gabe muttered.
“The king has assured me he keeps your identities secret, but there is a chance your names are written somewhere.”
“A chance?” Zach said.
“Somewhere?” Nathan said.
“He likes to record details,” Geraint stated, “so he will not forget anything.”
“Details like the names of those bound to protect him, which he then left lying about for someone to steal?” Zach’s tone had a bite to it.
“He assures me that is not the case, but I am not privy to his confidences, only in dealings with Alexius.”
Zach grumbled, sounding like Walter.
“There are also murmurings of unrest on the streets. Some say there will be riots.”
“There is always unrest on the streets. Many starve and struggle to feed their families, while others do not,” Gabe said.
“Very true. I just wanted you to be aware, as the speculation is that the insurgents are Russian.” Geraint bowed his head. “I serve bene tibi erit.”
And just like that they were dismissed, as they always were.
“Had I known everything would be secretive and underhanded while plunging us into mortal danger with only our wits to aid us, I would have said no to you,” Zach said when they were once again back in the carriage.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Nathan said. “Because you hate missing out, and as the rest of us were doing it, you would have come also when Gabe asked us to join Alexius.”
“And still I wear no ring.” Zach sighed.
Chapter Five
“Nathan!”
The shriek came as he prepared to cross the road and enter the street the Deville brothers lived on. He stopped and waited for the carriage holding his sister, who had her head out the window, to pull up before him.
“You’re coming with us,” Abby said. “Get in; there is not a moment to lose.”
“Good day, sister. Dimity and Walter.” He nodded to the other occupants of the carriage.
“Oh, very well,” Abby said. “Good day, Nathan. Now get in the carriage.”
“You were such a sweet little girl. Polite and well mannered.”
“What happened to your cheek?” She leaned farther out of the carriage. Nathan placed a hand on her shoulder and nudged her back in before she fell.
“I walked into a door.”
“Which is not the truth, but as I have no time for that, I will tell you again to get in the carriage.”
“I have an appointment.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie. He did have an appointment, but just with a plate full of food, a large brandy, and after that a soak in the bathtub. His ribs were starting to hurt. He’d not noticed them until now.
Damn Zach. Last night they had been training and Michael had taunted the youngest Deville that he would never be better than Nathan. The result had been Zach losing control. It had taken all Nathan’s strength to wrestle him onto the floor and subdue him.
“What appointment?”
“Of the business variety, so I must decline your polite request.”
Abby’s lips formed a line as she thought about how to get him to do what she wanted.
“What business? You don’t do business things.”
“As it happens, we do now thanks to your husband.”
“That man is a nuisance,” she said, a sly look crossing her pretty face. “Get in the carriage; your nephew is pining for you.”
“Toby is in there?” He stood on his toes to take a look, and sure enough there was his nephew sitting on Dimity’s lap. Nathan got in the carriage.
“Move, Walter,” he said to the dog who sat in the middle of the seat he wanted. The dog grumbled but slowly did as he asked. He then took his nephew and settled him in his arms as the carriage started moving. He received a gummy smile followed by something garbled that made his chest warm.
“Do not be fooled by that angelic face. He did not sleep a wink last night.”
“I find it hard to believe my nephew is not always well behaved.” Nathan kissed the downy head. “Walter, do not slobber on my shoulder.” The dog ignored him and rested his nose there.
“Why is your face bruised?” Dimity asked.
“Is it?” Nathan looked down at his nephew.
“You’ve been in a fight,” Abby accused. “I know the signs. I confronted Zach also, as his jaw is turning an ugly shade of purple, but he would tell me nothing.”
“Is there any point at all in me saying this is none of your business?”
“None.”
“Excellent. So now you know that yes, I have been in an altercation, as has another of your brothers, I wish to return to the house.”
“You can return soon. For now we have somewhere to go,” Abby said.
“Where?” Nathan said as the carriage began to move.
&
nbsp; “The Carlow townhouse,” Abby said.
“I beg your pardon?” He was sure he’d not heard those words correctly.
“There are rumors about you and Bethany Carlow. They must be nipped off at the stem,” Dimity said.
“In the bud, I believe is the correct term,” Nathan muttered.
“The point is, Nathan, if you are seen with her then they will have nothing to feed on.”
“‘They’ being society,” Abby added. “This must be done. I care not one jot for Bethany Carlow, but you I do care for.”
“And while that warms my cold heart, I would rather enter a den of poisonous snakes than the Carlow townhouse.”
“Pit,” Dimity said.
“Pardon?” He glared at her.
“Pit of venomous snakes.” She smiled. “But we digress.”
“No, please, I have all day to digress if it stops me entering the Carlow townhouse.”
“You must do this, Nathan.” Abby pulled a handkerchief from her reticule. She then spat on it.
“If you come near me with that thing, I will not be responsible for my actions. Good god, you’ve been a mother a handful of months and you’re already spitting on cloths and attempting to clean me!” Nathan looked at his sister in disgust.
Chapter Six
The Carlow townhouse was in one of the best areas of London. Lord Carlow was a wealthy man who, Beth had thought, managed his estates and finances well after the death of his father, the late Lord Carlow, who had been a high-ranking Royal Navy officer.
What he had actually done was sell his country’s secrets to Russia for exorbitant amounts of money.
Beth felt the surge of anger she always got thinking about what he’d done and how they now paid the price for his perfidy.
She sat at the desk in her favorite parlor writing a note to accompany the ledger she’d stolen from Lord Russell. She’d been told to send anything she found to the Grillion Hotel, addressed to M. A. Trunk. Beth believed that had to be the loathsome Mr. Logan. She had no doubt he was here in London watching her every move.
I have met Mr. Valentine; I will now attempt to gain his confidence. This is what I retrieved from Lord Russell’s desk. It’s my hope that this, along with the other things I will obtain, will be enough to release my family from the hold you have over us.
Beth sealed the note but did not sign it. She would put her name to nothing.
“Enter,” she answered the knock. The man who moved into the room was large in every way. Tall, broad shouldered, he had a scowl on his face that told Beth someone had annoyed him. He wore breeches, a shirt, necktie, and waistcoat. Those were the only allowances he made for Beth and her mother and the fact they now resided in the city, rather than his preferred location of the country.
Born in America, Lucas Hunt had been indentured to a ship’s captain as a boy. He had then traveled to England. Upon arrival in Portsmouth, he’d fallen ill with fever. The captain had ordered him to shore and then left England without him.
Somehow, he’d started the journey to London, and it was on the side of the road Beth’s mother found him. Had Lady Carlow not been looking out the carriage window, she would not have seen Lucas resting against the trunk of a tree, but she had, and her gentle heart had demanded the carriage stop.
She took him, feverish and delirious, with her back to their estate, and there he’d stayed. That was twelve years ago; he’d never left and now was fiercely loyal to the Carlow family, but most especially Beth’s mother.
“What has happened now, Lucas?”
“Your housekeeper told me I needed to learn some manners.” He scowled.
“And I’m sure Mrs. Peabody did not mean to be rude to you.”
“How is it you can stand being here in this filthy-smelling city with so many people?” he added.
“It’s not something you like or dislike; it’s something you do,” Beth said.
“Which makes sense to no one,” he muttered. “I don’t like you and your mother going to social engagements without me.”
“And yet you cannot come, Lucas. We’ve discussed this.” At length, Beth added silently.
He knew something was not right with the Carlows, just not what. The fact they had traveled here, leaving Beth’s father bedridden after suffering a seizure had confused Lucas. Yes, Lord Carlow was recovering, but still they should have been at his bedside. Instead they’d chosen to return to London after three years and reenter society.
“Lady Blake, Miss Blake, and Miss Mary Blake have called, Miss Carlow.”
“Thank you, Leonard,” she said to the butler who appeared in the doorway. “I shall come shortly.”
“Is this one of those morning calls your mother told me about?” Lucas asked.
“It is, so run away and hide. If the women see you, they’ll swoon and demand to be introduced,” Beth teased.
He scowled.
“Don’t go out without me” were his parting words.
The click of the door had her inhaling deeply. She’d known, of course, that reentering society would have morning callers once again appearing on their doorstep. She had no illusions that they were here to simply see how she was and chat about nothing of importance. No, the Blake women, with the exception of Mary, would want to find the reason for her disappearance from society and why she and her family had stayed away for so long.
Regaining her feet, Beth shook out her hands and walked in circles. She could do this, had to do this. It would be over as soon as she’d achieved what she must. It had to be.
Inhaling a deep, steadying breath, she released it slowly. Leaving the room, she approached the parlor where she knew the Blake ladies would be. Entering with a smile on her face, she greeted the occupants.
“How lovely of you to call, Lady Blake, and your daughters,” Beth gushed.
The Blake women were all alike in looks. Blonde hair, flawless complexions, and brown eyes. There the similarities stopped. Phillipa, the eldest, and her mother were like any proper society ladies who spent time doing things that proper ladies should. Mary was more interested in learning from the copious number of books she read and walking about in paddocks or parks. She did not suffer fools and rarely flirted with or flattered men.
Today Phillipa wore pink, with three rows of flounces at the hem and one at the bodice, and Mary white. Hers had roses embroidered all over it. Large ones.
“Of course we had to call, dear Miss Carlow.”
Her mother had not arrived yet. Beth hoped she did so soon as she had a feeling she was about to be interrogated.
“How wonderful that you did, as you have saved me from dreary letter writing,” Beth said, moving to take the seat next to Mary.
“We are of course pleased you are back with us, Miss Carlow,” Phillipa simpered. “We cannot imagine what kept you from us for so long.”
“I have brought you a book,” Mary said, much to her family’s annoyance.
“Wonderful! Beth said with far more enthusiasm than was required. “I have little to read at the moment and had planned a trip to the lending library.”
“Everyone is reading Captain Broadbent and Lady Nauticus, but I doubt you have, so here is the first one.” Mary handed it to her.
“For pity’s sake, Mary, we are not here to talk about books,” Phillipa trilled. “And your dear father, Miss Carlow. One hopes he is well?”
“A slight inflammation of the chest, Lady Blake,” Beth lied. She and her mother had prepared what they would say.
“And what have you been doing for so long out of society?” Phillipa continued to dig for information.
Leonard appeared in the doorway. “Lady Abigail, Master Tobias Dillinger, and Miss Saint-Bonnard,” he said looking happy about the prospect of yet more callers. Beth felt her stomach revolt.
“How wonderful!” Phillipa clapped her hands, excited at the prospect of two more ladies supporting her cause in pursuit of answers as to the mysterious years the Carlows were missing. Especially as one was
Nathan’s sister.
“But who is Tobias Dillinger? A cousin, perhaps?” Lady Blake said looking excited at the prospect of another eligible male to hurl her daughters at.
Excellent, more questions.
“This must be an extremely painful time for you both,” Lady Blake crooned.
“Why?” Beth kept her expression calm.
“Well, you did flee London suddenly, and at a time it was widely known you and Mr. Deville—”
“Mother,” Mary said looking disgusted again. “That was years ago, she has moved on.”
The door opened again before anyone else could speak, and in walked the Deville party. Abby entered first, dressed in deep red; next came Miss Saint-Bonnard in emerald. Both women looked wonderful, confident, and everything Beth was not feeling. Abby carried a small child in her arms.
“A child!” Lady Blake gasped as if a rodent had entered the room.
“Indeed, he is a child, and mine as a matter of fact,” Abby Dillinger said, moving to take a seat after greetings were exchanged. “Is there a problem with Tobias being here? Surely at six months old he cannot set you twittering. I mean he is handsome, but—”
“Of course not,” Lady Blake interrupted. “It is just not what one expects when paying a morning call.”
Beth looked at the baby. He was beautiful. Slumbering in his mother’s arms, his eyelashes rested on his cheeks, and a little rosebud mouth was open.
Would the child she’d longed for with Nathan have looked like this?
“He is beautiful,” Beth said.
“We think so,” Abby said, her eyes cool.
“We were just enquiring over Miss Carlow’s absence from society,” Lady Blake said. “Most unusual, and of course the welfare of her and her family during that time had us all worried.”
“I’m sure should she wish for us to know, she’d tell us,” Miss Saint-Bonnard said. She was a beautiful woman with raven-dark hair and intelligent eyes. Beth was surprised she’d spoken in her defense, when surely like the rest of the Deville family, she too hated what Beth had done to Nathan.