“And one thing led to another,” Kiri murmured.
“After I passed on what I’d learned, I was told there would be much joy in Whitehall if I continued to provide information.” He shrugged, a movement more felt than seen in the darkness. “Of such chances are lives changed.”
“But you never learned Wyndham’s fate.”
“No.” After a long silence, he added, “Perhaps someday.”
Kiri heard in his voice that he didn’t believe he’d ever find out what happened to his friend. But he’d never give up.
She decided she would much rather have Kirkland as a friend than an enemy.
Kiri entered Ashton House on feather feet, glad the household slept, since she was too weary for explanations. But she’d promised to notify Sarah when she returned, so she tapped on her friend’s door.
Sarah flung open the door almost instantly. She was dressed for bed, but didn’t look as if she’d been sleeping. Expression relieved, she gestured for Kiri to enter. “Thank heaven you’re back! I’ve been kicking myself for leaving you behind.”
“Truly, there was no danger,” Kiri said as she closed the door behind her. “Lord Kirkland just wanted to know anything I’d observed useful about the kidnappers. Were you able to return Princess Charlotte without causing an uproar?”
Sarah nodded. “She has a clever private route in and out of Warwick House. Did you know that her windows look straight into Carlton House? Her father can glare right at her, if he bothers.”
“Even if she returned to her bed unnoticed, the kidnapping is going to change her life.” On the ride home, Kiri had thought about how much to tell Sarah. Enough to explain the kidnapping, but no more. “Kirkland has reason to believe the French were behind the attempt to capture the princess. And that they’ll try again.”
Sarah gasped. “How dreadful! Will she be removed to a safer place?”
“Probably. Windsor Castle, most likely. She should be safe there.”
“I hope so. Now that I’ve met her, I like her. Despite the horrible way she’s been caught between her parents and grandparents, she has a sweet nature and generous heart.”
“I hope she has a good head as well, since she may well become Queen of England someday.” Kiri smothered a yawn. “I’m for bed now.”
“So am I, now that you’re home safe.” Sarah wrinkled her nose. “I think that’s enough adventuring for me for quite some time to come.”
For Kiri, the adventure was just beginning.
Mac artfully arranged the two bodies in the back alley, doing his best to make the larger man look like the late Damian Mackenzie. Then he walked the short distance along the alley to the gate that led into his house’s walled back garden.
The main connection between house and garden was a pair of French doors in the center of the building, but there was also an unobtrusive entrance near the right corner of the back wall. It opened into a room originally intended for tools and storage. Because it could be entered from either house or garden, Mac had installed very good locks on both doors and turned the room into his headquarters for nefarious activities.
Mac had enjoyed watching his actress mother change her appearance, and his favorite game as a boy was disguising himself to look like someone else. Perhaps it had been a way to escape his own less than satisfactory identity.
Though he’d grown more comfortable in his own skin, his work with Kirkland sometimes required that he look like a laborer or sailor or coachman if he wanted to move about London without being recognized. He had clothing and accessories to change his appearance anywhere from a fop to a ragpicker.
It would be convenient if he were average height and build. But he’d learned a few tricks to make his height and build less noticeable. One was donning a padded vest that made him look shorter and bulkier. His hair was an unmemorable shade of medium brown. It would do for tonight, but he collected a pouch of dye so he could make the color darker and duller.
Then he covered his brown eye with a patch. Eye patches were common and drew little attention, and the patch obscured his distinctively different eyes. The uncovered eye was changeable, shifting from blue to gray and even green depending on what he was wearing. It was a useful trait for a chameleon.
He put on coaching garments since they were comfortably worn and good enough quality to show that he was a respectable man of his trade. The boots were also comfortable, but he’d had the soles shaped in a way that subtly altered his walk.
Like all his coats, the multi-caped coaching garment had plenty of pockets inside and out. He added a wad of banknotes to the fifty guineas repaid by Lady Kiri. Though he had a bank account in a false name that he could access if necessary, nothing beat cash for bribes or buying his way out of trouble.
After stashing several weapons around his person and packing a bag with other essentials, he was ready to go. He had several false identities at hand, and he decided on Daniels, a name enough like Damian’s to be easy to answer to.
As he locked the door and the gate behind him, he wondered if Lady Kiri Lawford would be able to identify him. Probably, since he hadn’t drenched himself in cologne to change the way he smelled.
His thoughts were wry as he made his way through the darkness. Though his mission was to protect the royal family, if he had to choose between saving Princess Charlotte and saving Kiri Lawford—king, princess, and country could go hang.
“My lord. You must come quickly.” The black-garbed footman was pale as he addressed Kirkland. “There are two dead men behind the building, and I think they came out of the club.”
“Damnation!” Kirkland pushed away from his desk and stood. After taking Lady Kiri home, he’d returned to the club office to wait for someone to find the bodies. He recognized the footman as a regular employee called Borden. “How did you find them?”
“I was taking a quick break from the ballroom. I thought the back alley would be a good place to relax for a few minutes.” Borden drew a shuddering breath. “I found . . . them.”
“Not very relaxing.” Kirkland strode down the hall beside the footman. “Have you notified Mackenzie? If the bodies belong to regulars, he will recognize them.”
“Sir . . .” The footman was so pale he seemed on the verge of fainting. “I’m afraid . . . Mr. Mackenzie . . .” He swallowed hard. “I thought it best to check the office, and found you.”
“Come along, then,” Kirkland said briskly. He saw no traces of blood to reveal where the two men had died. Mac had done a good job of cleaning the corridor.
Borden had left a lantern by the back door, and he lifted it to light their way into the back alley. The bodies were only a few feet away. One clasped a gun; the other had dropped a weapon by his side.
“It looks like they killed each other,” Kirkland said. “Maybe they had an argument over cards and decided to settle it directly rather than a formal duel. Any idea who they might be?”
“Sir . . . ,” Borden whispered. “Look closer at the big one.”
Kirkland obeyed, trying to act exactly as he would if this scene was unexpected. He stepped closer to the large man with the ruined face, whose head was turned away from them. The fellow had brown hair similar in length and color to Mac’s.
Borden lowered the lantern, and the light picked up a flash of gold on the dead man’s left hand. Kirkland looked, and his heart clenched with shock. “Dear God!”
No. It wasn’t possible. He’d seen Mac alive and well less than an hour ago!
Stomach knotted, he knelt by the body. The pistol gripped by the dead hand looked like Mac’s, and the engraved ring . . .
He lifted the limp hand to study the family crest engraved into the gold. The design showed the Masterson arms, with a black onyx bar slashing diagonally across. It was the bar sinister, the traditional mark of illegitimacy.
“This is Mackenzie’s ring,” he said, his throat tight. “It was a gift from his brother, Lord Masterson.” Mac had enjoyed the blatant proclamation of his bastardy, sin
ce it came from Will Masterson. They’d both laughed over the ring.
“I . . . I was hoping I was wrong,” Borden said, his voice on the edge of tears. “Mr. Mackenzie—he saved my life, sir. I was in trouble and on the edge of being shipped to Botany Bay when he took me in and gave me a job. I can’t believe he’s dead.”
Borden’s words cleared Kirkland’s paralysis. Of course Mac would have known his ring was perfect identification. That harrowing instant when Kirkland believed his friend really was dead had also produced a damned convincing reaction.
“Bring Baptiste and a couple of other men and a pair of blankets so the bodies can be covered. And send someone for a magistrate.” Knowing Mac would want the ring back and not stolen by a casual thief, Kirkland tugged it off the cold hand. “Lord Masterson will want this.”
Borden went back inside, clearly glad to get away from the death scene. Wearily Kirkland got to his feet. Mac was alive and well for now, and should be able to return to his life soon. But there were others whom Kirkland had sent to their doom, and that knowledge weighed heavily on a night like this.
His friend Wyndham had been one of them.
Within five minutes, Baptiste rushed from the building, accompanied by his friend Lord Fendall and two strong footmen with blankets. “Kirkland! Tell me it is not true!” Baptiste cried frantically.
“I’m afraid it is.” Kirkland opened his hand to show the ring. “Mackenzie was shot in the face and is . . . not easily recognized. But I took this from his finger.”
Baptiste stared at the ring with horror. “No. No! Mackenzie can’t be dead!” His gaze strayed to the broad, powerful body as the footmen covered it with a blanket. The club manager made a choking sound and turned away to retch, steadying himself against the wall with a shaking hand.
Fendall moved close to Kirkland. “What happened?” he asked in a low voice, as if the dead might be disturbed.
“My guess is that Mackenzie interrupted a thief and was killed trying to stop him.” Kirkland shook his head. “We’ll probably never know for sure.”
“Such a great pity,” Fendall said with regret. He turned away from the bodies. “You are waiting for the magistrates?”
Kirkland nodded. “I thought it was best not to move anything until they arrive.”
Baptiste turned from the wall and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. He was still pale, but he’d managed to collect himself. “It seems impossible that Mackenzie is gone. He seemed—indestructible.”
Kirkland nodded, his own nerves still shaken.
“The club,” Baptiste said hesitantly. “Damian’s. What will become of it? Will Lord Masterson, the army brother, inherit?”
Life goes on. Baptiste might be upset at the loss of his friend and employer, but he was understandably concerned for his job.
“No, Mackenzie and I were partners with right of survivorship. If one of us died, the other inherits.” Kirkland stared at the blanket-covered body, thinking how easily it could have been Mackenzie in truth. “Neither of us expected . . . this.”
Baptiste shook his head sorrowfully. “To think he was killed by a common thief! Better to have let the villain escape than to lose his own life in the pursuit.”
“A damned shame we can’t tell the future,” Kirkland agreed. “For now, nothing changes. Continue to run the club as you always have.” He shook his head. “But Damian’s will not be the same without Mac.”
Baptiste nodded in silent agreement. “Never. But . . . if you decide to sell the business, will you give me a chance to buy?”
Kirkland nodded. “You’ve earned that right. But for now, carry on.”
In the silence that followed, he wondered how long it would be before Mac could return to his proper place.
Chapter 17
Kiri went to bed, but her spinning mind interfered with sleep. She was yawning when she went down to the breakfast room. Adam was there already, browsing a newspaper while he finished his meal.
He rose with a smile when she entered. “Good morning, Kiri. You look like you had a restless night.”
She gave him a quick sisterly kiss. “I did. Is Mariah sleeping late? She’s usually appallingly awake at this hour.”
“She decided to take advantage of her delicate condition to have breakfast in bed. Sarah is joining her.” He grinned. “I heard giggles as I left, so I don’t expect either of them to come down anytime soon.”
As he resumed his seat, Kiri said, “Soon she’ll be brimming with energy. At least, so says Lady Julia. So convenient that Mariah’s best friend is a midwife.” Kiri poured herself a cup of fragrant, hot coffee from one of the silver pots, since she needed something stronger than tea this morning. “I live in fear that you shall tire of my company and toss me into the streets of Mayfair.”
“Never,” he laughed. “I came late to the status of paterfamilias, and I won’t weary of it soon. I’m looking forward to having everyone at Ralston Hall next week.” He poured himself more tea. “General Stillwell sent a note yesterday. He’s discovered that an estate near Ralston will be coming up for sale. As you know, he’s been thinking of buying a place in the country. He’ll look Blythe Manor over on this visit.”
“It’s certainly a cheerful name! The location sounds perfect. We would be close, but not underfoot. We can make up for time lost when we were all on opposite sides of the world.” As she scooped kedgeree and eggs from silver warming pans, she wondered if this was a good time to tell her brother that she wouldn’t be traveling to Ralston with the rest of her family.
Before she could decide, the door to the breakfast parlor opened to admit her parents. Lakshmi was dressed in English style, petite and dark and stunning, while the general looked exactly like what he was: a tall, handsome man with an air of command who was still fit enough to ride all day and half the night if necessary.
Abandoning her plate, Kiri swooped across the room and fell into her mother’s embrace, thinking how much had happened since she’d last seen her. “Oh, Mama, how lovely that you’ve been released from your imprisonment!”
“It has been almost a month since I saw you. Far too long.” Lakshmi Lawford Stillwell, dowager Duchess of Ashton, though she never used the title, had laughing green eyes and seemed far too young to be the mother of grown children. She was also quite possibly the wisest, kindest mother in the world, and hugging her made Kiri feel better.
“My turn,” Adam ordered. “I haven’t seen her for a month, either.”
Kiri turned to the general while her brother embraced Lakshmi. “I’m glad you are finally free from quarantine,” Adam said. “Are Thomas and Lucia with you?”
“They have recovered from the measles, but they tire easily. I thought it best they stay home,” Lakshmi replied in her musical voice. “You may call on them if you like.”
“I shall like.” Adam shook the general’s hand. “Have you come for breakfast?”
“We’ve eaten,” the general said as he hugged Kiri, “but I wouldn’t say no to tea and a couple of those cinnamon buns I see on the sideboard.”
As Adam seated his mother and stepfather, Kiri poured their tea and set the cinnamon buns between them. Ashton House had no shortage of servants, but Kiri liked the hominess of having only family in the breakfast room.
Returning to her own meal, Kiri ate quietly while the others chatted. With brother and parents present, it was a perfect time to talk to them all at once.
But how did one interrupt a conversation to say, “By the way, last night I slipped out to an alarmingly fashionable club and helped foil a royal kidnapping, and I intend to move to a house in a bad neighborhood so I can live with dangerous strangers and dress like a doxy and go to gambling hells and sniff men to see if they’re French conspirators?”
It would not be an easy discussion to initiate.
She was trying to find the right words when the door opened again, this time admitting Lord Kirkland, who looked as contained as always despite his busy night. Adam met his friend with
a smile and an outstretched hand. “Has my breakfast room become London’s fashionable gathering spot?”
“So it appears.” Kirkland glanced about the room, his gaze holding Kiri’s briefly. “Lady Kiri, Mrs. Stillwell, General Stillwell.”
Kiri felt cowardly relief that she would have Kirkland’s support for the upcoming discussion. After he poured himself coffee, he sat at the table opposite the general and Lakshmi. “I’m glad you’re all here, since I have something important to discuss concerning Lady Kiri.”
The general looked startled but pleased. “You want to marry my little girl? She’ll be a handful, but you won’t be sorry.”
Lakshmi and Adam also looked startled, but that was nothing compared to the shock on Kirkland’s face. “Good God, no!” he exclaimed.
Realizing too late how insulting that sounded, he said hastily, “Lady Kiri is beautiful, charming, skilled, and resourceful, but I have no romantic intentions toward her. It is because of her skills that Britain needs her.” His gaze flicked to Kiri. “Do you wish to tell them the whole story?”
As all eyes turned to her, Kiri collected herself, glad that she sounded composed. “I’ve had an adventurous week,” she said to her parents. “Rather than try to write about what happened, I preferred to wait until I could tell you in person.”
Of course she’d rather have said nothing about the smugglers, but that was no longer possible since her kidnapping led directly to Damian’s. Briefly she described how she’d left Grimes Hall after overhearing the discussion about her dowry. The bigotry she didn’t mention, though a shadow in her mother’s expression suggested that Lakshmi understood some of what wasn’t said.
As expected, the general exploded when Kiri told of being captured by smugglers, instinctively reaching for weapons he wasn’t carrying. As Lakshmi put a hand on his arm, Kiri said quickly, “As you see, I am here and unharmed. Please let me continue.”
Adam winced. “There’s more?”
“I’m afraid so.” She kept the description of her visit to Damian’s succinct, following Kirkland’s policy of saying no more than necessary. Sarah she didn’t mention at all. Her brother and parents showed varying degrees of surprise and disapproval that turned to shock when she mentioned Princess Charlotte. Kiri finished, “Because I had a chance to scent the kidnappers, Lord Kirkland says my aid will be valuable in finding the conspirators before they can do great damage.”
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