The Tavistock Plot

by Tracy Grant

Nerezza's eyes widened. "You think this Antonio Barosa was Alexander Radford in disguise?"

  "There's nothing to suggest that," Carfax said.

  "Nothing save the fact that the same people who want to get rid of Nerezza because of her connection to Alexander Radford want to get hold of the notes of that meeting Antonio Barosa attended," Raoul said.

  "Lewis Thornsby took lodgings where the papers were being printed," Kitty said. "He seems to have searched for the papers. And he tried to get both Kit Montagu and me to tell him what we were doing."

  "And Lady Shroppington planted a spy on the Wiltons," Laura said.

  "And Beverston as good as confirmed that Alexander Radford is the man trying to take control of the League," Malcolm said.

  "Thornsby couldn't have known about the meeting notes when he first took lodgings with Hapgood," Simon pointed out.

  "No," Malcolm agreed. "I suspect at that point he was trying to learn what you were all doing with the papers from Spain. He told Roger he'd heard you and Kit talking about something that might be treasonous."

  Simon's eyes narrowed. "Kit brought up the lines were crossing. I didn’t know Thornsby had overheard us. Or that he'd told Roger."

  "I think at that point Thornsby was trying to sow dissension among the Levellers. But recently he tried very hard to get both Kit and Kitty to take him into their confidence. I think that was because he'd learned about the notes of the meetings in Spain and Italy. And they may have interested him because Antonio Barosa is Alexander Radford."

  Carfax unclasped his hands and pushed up his spectacles. "It's possible. I don't see the point of such a deception. Nor do I like to think I might have been taken in by it—but I can't swear I wasn't."

  "The League have shown an interest in you," Julien said in a quiet voice. "Particularly Alexander Radford's faction in the League."

  "Yes, they evidently think I pose some threat."

  "False modesty doesn't become you, sir. Of course you pose a threat, and you've made it your business to try to take them down. But I wonder if there's more to it. It's almost as if they've been going after certain enemies. O'Roarke. You. Lord Glenister."

  Carfax frowned. "You're making leaps like O'Roarke, Julien."

  "O'Roarke's leaps are bloody brilliant. And in this case, I think, spot on."

  For a moment, Carfax and Julien weren't antagonists, they were spymaster and spy. Or just possibly uncle and nephew. "It doesn't prove Barosa is Radford," Carfax said. "Or that he isn't. And in any case, the papers don't reveal Barosa's identity."

  "I don't know who Alexander Radford really is, but they want to get rid of me," Nerezza pointed out. "There seems to be a lot of concern about keeping his secrets, for whatever reason."

  "So there does," Carfax agreed.

  Malcolm regarded his former spymaster. "Thornsby was trying to barter the list of Radical disturbances I showed you for information about the notes of that meeting. So I think the Radical disturbances are something he uncovered, not something he was behind."

  Carfax took another drink of whisky. "All right. We seem to be at the point where secrets are doing more harm than good. I'll admit to being behind those incidents. Shocked, Malcolm? Let me guess. Now you think I’m lying and I wasn't behind them at all."

  "No, I'm inclined to believe you. I think the sketch of the rifle trajectory aimed at the royal box was something else Thornsby had uncovered. That's why you haven't been more worried about it, because it was your plot all along. Were you actually planning a foiled assassination attempt, or was the evidence supposed to be uncovered in advance?"

  "My dear Malcolm. You can't imagine I would really orchestrate shooting at the royal box."

  "My dear sir. Under the right circumstances, I wouldn't put actually assassinating a member of the royal family past you."

  "That's treason."

  "It's also murder, which I'm even more inclined to cavil at."

  Carfax set his glass down. "The drawing was supposed to be uncovered before any plot could be attempted. There'd be no direct proof to convict anyone."

  "You relieve me," Simon said in a dry voice. "So you weren't planning to hang any of us?"

  "I have no interest in hanging any of your group, Tanner. That would turn you into martyrs, among other things. And while I freely admit to having far fewer scruples than just about anyone in this room—including Julien, I now think—I really do try to stay away from needless killing. The whole point of agent provocateur operations is to create discord and uncertainty."

  "And ruin lives," Malcolm said.

  "I'm prepared to share information, Malcolm, not to have a moral debate."

  "Who orchestrated the activities?" Malcolm asked.

  "Various agents of mine."

  "Including your agents among the Levellers."

  "Given that a number of the activities involved the Levellers, that's a fair assumption."

  David's gaze was fastened on his father. "By God—"

  "No," Malcolm said, "your father's right. Right now we all need to share information. Which is why your father is going to tell us who his agent among the Levellers is."

  Carfax regarded Malcolm for a long moment. "That's asking a lot."

  "You're asking us to work with you."

  Carfax gave a faint inclination of his head. "For all your tiresome scruples, you've always been a good negotiator, Malcolm. Fair enough. It's Donald McDevitt."

  Mélanie released her breath.

  Carfax's gaze shot to her. "You suspected?"

  "Not precisely. I talked to him this afternoon. He didn't strike me as a typical Leveller. When did he start working for you?"

  "About six months ago. He came to me himself, as it happens. He said he thought he had an interesting way into the Levellers."

  "So he told you about Will?" Mélanie asked. "Had he already met Will at the Tavistock?"

  "No, but he'd seen Carmarthen onstage and realized it was his cousin."

  "So, everything he said to Will, their whole reunion, it was all part of his work for you."

  "I don't think any of us are strangers to the jealousies between brothers," Carfax said. "And Donald and Will had grown up rather as brothers."

  "Donald set up Will's arrest in Lancaster?" Simon said.

  "Yes, that went further than I meant it to," Carfax said. "Donald's directive was simply to cause some unrest. Framing anyone, let alone a Leveller, let alone his own cousin, wasn't part of it."

  "Did you tell him to watch Thornsby?" Malcolm asked, keeping his voice steady. Throttling Carfax would get them nowhere, and while he hadn't known the mole's identity, none of this was anything he hadn't already known or suspected. "Or did Donald tumble to Thornsby's working for the League?"

  "Donald had a university friend who knew Thornsby. Donald was the one who first let me know he thought there was more to Thornsby than met the eye."

  "Thornsby stole the list of disturbances from Donald," Malcolm said.

  "I suspect so. And the drawing of the rifle trajectory. Though in the end, its being found on him served more or less the intended purpose."

  "When did you last talk to Donald?" Malcolm asked Carfax.

  "He came to see me yesterday. He told me the last time he'd seen Thornsby was the night before the murder."

  "Do you believe him?" Malcolm asked.

  Carfax took a drink of whisky. "Are you suggesting Donald killed Thornsby?"

  "Someone did. And unfortunately, for all we've learned, we're no closer to determining who."

  "I'll arrange a meeting with Donald and see what more I can learn," Carfax said.

  "I'll talk to Beverston again and see what I can get him to admit about Lady Shroppington," Malcolm said. "At least knowing the assassination plot was a fabrication of yours takes away some of the urgency."

  "Yes." Carfax looked from Mélanie to Simon. "No need to worry about your opening. I'm quite looking forward to it."

  David pushed back his chair. "If we've said what needs to be
said for the moment, we need a word with you in private, Father. Perhaps Mélanie would give us the use of the small salon."

  "We?" Carfax asked.

  "Julien and I."

  Chapter 38

  David regarded his father in the delicate sea-green precincts of the small salon. This room, with its airy walls and spindle-legged furniture, seemed an odd setting for what had to be said. But David had wanted the nearest room available. "What's the catch, sir?"

  "The catch?"

  "In your getting Simon out of Newgate."

  Carfax moved to a delicate chair upholstered in ivory silk. "There isn't one."

  "You're good, Father. But I've learned to see round you."

  "In this case, you're jumping at shadows." Carfax set his glass down on a satinwood end table and lowered himself into the chair. "I thought we'd all decided to be allies for the moment. Even Malcolm seems to see it that way."

  "Why should Arthur and I believe a word you say?" David asked.

  Carfax met his gaze, then looked at Julien. "Ah. Well, I assumed you knew the truth. Especially when the two of you wanted to talk to me together."

  "But you weren't going to admit it until we did," David said.

  "It seemed prudent."

  David nearly strode across the room and pulled his father from the chair. "You manipulated me. You tried to force me into a life I didn't want. To destroy the man I love. For the sake of a title that isn't even rightfully mine."

  "Oh, for God's sake, David. You're a revolutionary. You don't believe in bloodlines anyway."

  "But you do. You kept telling me it was important to preserve them. You did everything you could to get me to have a son. All so he could grow up and live a lie. Did you think about what might happen to this hypothetical child in ten, or twenty, or fifty years if the truth came out?"

  "Naturally, I assumed it wouldn't. As I assume O'Roarke did, with the truth about Mélanie."

  David was not going to be diverted by Mélanie's past, this time. "You assume that, knowing St. Juste? Arthur." David looked at his new-found cousin, then looked back at Carfax. "Damn it, Father, you couldn't control him now. How could you possibly think you could in the future? Which doesn't even really matter considering that it was wrong."

  "David, I'd have thought your view of the world had grown nuanced enough not to talk about simple rights and wrongs."

  "Some things are clearly wrong, sir. If you chose to commit fraud, that's your own affair. But you dragged me into it. Along with Mother and the girls, but you made it your excuse for trying to control my life."

  Carfax curved his hands round the fluted arms of his chair. "If you're done with your principled rant, David, perhaps you'll permit me to address some of the issues?"

  "What could you possibly say to—"

  "Your uncle was determined to hand Arthur over to the authorities. Which would have been a sad waste."

  "Thank you," Julien said. "I tend to agree."

  "My uncle died over two decades ago," David said.

  "We were in the midst of a war, and it was no time to try to resurrect Julien's reputation."

  "And you didn't trust me," Julien said. "Not that you trust me now, but I think your view of me was rather worse then."

  "True enough," Carfax said. "Besides, it was helpful for me to have the title and the power that went with it. No sense in denying it."

  "My God," David said.

  "I'll say this for you, Uncle Hubert," Julien said. "You're refreshingly honest."

  "Don't pretend you even considered doing the right thing until recently," David said. "Otherwise you wouldn't have been so intent on my marrying and producing an heir."

  "You'd have been a good earl, David," Carfax said.

  David stared at this father. "Your rescuing Simon. It was all because you'd given up on me, wasn't it?"

  "David." Carfax's voice cut with unwonted force. He pushed himself out of his chair, then dropped back into it. "You can't possibly think my concern for your future was only because you were the Carfax heir. If anything, this makes your ability to look after your family even more vital. You won't have a title to protect you. And we're going to find ourselves at open war with the League." He flicked a glance at Julien, then looked back at David. "Part of my willingness to risk turning the title over to Julien is my confidence that you'll be all right."

  David held his father's gaze.

  "Yes, I know," Carfax said. "I might say that anyway, if I wanted you to go along with it. But it happens to be the truth."

  David folded his arms across his chest. "Why should Arthur and I listen to anything you say?"

  "Among other reasons, because this will be a great deal easier if we all work together."

  "Leave it to you to fall back on the idea of working together."

  "I hate to admit it, but he has a point," Julien said. "On the other hand, I won't blame you if you want nothing whatsoever to do with him."

  "I don't think I have that luxury." David folded his arms over his chest. "Why did you save Simon, Father?"

  "Because I don't like to see the League win. Because my grandchildren are attached to him. Because I'm not indifferent to him myself. Because you love him."

  Leave it to Carfax to speak words David had never imagined hearing on his lips. For the length of several heartbeats, David could simply stare at his father. "If you're counting on my gratitude, it will get you nowhere."

  "No, I don't believe it will. I don't believe anything will. And I mean that as a compliment." Carfax regarded David with a faint smile. "You've set a dangerous path for yourself. I had hoped you could have the life you want without running so many obvious risks. But you've shown you can take care of yourself and the family you've built. In the future, you'll find me an ally in your efforts, not an opponent."

  David sucked in his breath. "You can't expect me to believe that."

  "No? I suppose I wouldn't, in your shoes. This could be a gambit. Win you over, get you to relax your guard. But no matter what I do, I don't think you're ever going to marry."

  "No," David said. "I'm not."

  "Well, then. Whatever you think of me, you might ask yourself if I'm the sort to keep hitting my head against a brick wall."

  "What do you call the past two years?"

  "A point," Carfax conceded.

  "My God, sir. When I think of the damage—"

  "None of it's irreversible."

  "Speak for yourself."

  "You and Tanner look stronger than ever."

  "I suppose we are, in a way. None of that excuses what you did."

  "I'm not asking you to excuse it." Carfax took a drink of whisky. "But I hope you'll stop wasting time worrying about me, and focus on our common enemies."

  "Father—" David's gaze narrowed. "Are you asking me to be an ally?"

  "I'm hoping you are one. At least, in certain things. I should have realized long since how effective you could be." Carfax settled back in his chair. "I meant what I said at the start, David. Your ability to take care of your family impresses me. I'm not sure what the future holds for me. That's something we need to discuss with Julien. But I trust you and Simon to look after the children and yourselves. You've certainly done so through some very trying times."

  David stared at him, stretched out a hand, let it fall. "Father—"

  "Don't start worrying too much, lad. I'm not precisely in desperate circumstances. When it comes to taking care of oneself, I've always done rather well."

  "Truer words were never spoken, Father." David searched for words to express a sentiment he wouldn't have been able to imagine feeling a quarter hour since. "Thank you."

  "For letting you live the life you want?"

  "No. You should have done that a long time since. For believing in me."

  "I should have done that a long time since as well." Carfax watched him for a moment, then looked at Julien. "The next few months may be particularly trying for all of us. Amelia may cause difficulties."


  "Mama?" David asked.

  "She warned me she'd choose you and your sisters over me. Arguably, not a bad stance. But I believe she meant that she wouldn't let me trade away what she sees as your birthright."

  "She knows it's not my birthright. At least, I assume from your words she knows about Arthur."

  "She does. She recognized him at the O'Roarkes' wedding."

  "So she knows the Carfax title isn't even my rightful inheritance."

  "She may believe you've come to deserve it."

  "Oh, well," Julien said. "If we're talking about deserving—"

  "I'll talk to Mama," David said.

  "Thank you," Carfax said. "She's rather more in charity with you than with me at the moment." He looked between David and Julien. "We have a number of decisions to make."

  "Not until the Thornsby business is settled," Julien said.

  "We have a bit of time to plan," Carfax conceded. "I imagine you want to get back to Tanner and the children, David."

  "You want to talk to Julien."

  "It might be a good idea."

  David glanced at Julien. Julien inclined his head and gave a faint smile. David looked between his father and cousin, and left the room, wondering how he had come to be so in charity with his father.

  Julien regarded his uncle for several seconds after the door closed behind David. "Kitty and I were married this evening." He tossed the words down like a gauntlet.

  Carfax raised his brows. To Julien's surprise, a faint smile crossed his face. "I was wondering when you'd get round to it."

  Julien never trusted Carfax, and particularly not when he was smiling. "You don't look as though you mind."

  "On the contrary. I've wanted to see you married, and though, as I once said, Kitty Ashford isn't the partner I'd have chosen for you, it's become apparent she's the one you want. I've learned to control my interference."

  "Ha."

  "I've always liked Kitty."

  "Oh, for God's sake. Since when have you liked anyone?"

  "It's not that I don't like people, I just don't let my liking them interfere with what needs to be done. The two of you will look after each other."

  Carfax's sounding benevolent was even less trustworthy than Carfax's smiling. "You've been warning me off marrying Kitty for weeks. You told Mélanie you were worried about our relationship. You told Malcolm."