Smoke & Lies

by Andrea Penrose

  “So you’ve been burning the wick at both ends of the candle,” interjected Saybrook. “You’ve been working with your merchant friends, doing small favors while hoping to wheedle out enough information for the British to save your neck with Grentham—and then slip away before they cut your throat.”

  “In a nutshell, yes,” said Wolff.

  There was, thought Arianna, an alternative scenario—one in which Wolff was biding his time, waiting to see which side would prove the most profitable. If Napoleon returned to power, her old friend would be well-rewarded and safe from Grentham’s wrath within France.

  “Still, I can’t help remembering how you’ve always expressed a great fondness for Paris,” she remarked. “Its wine, its women, its devil-may-care joie de vivre rather than the dreary stiff-upper-lip British formality.”

  Wolff slowly let out his breath. “Yes, I enjoy life and its pleasures. But I wouldn’t betray my country for it.”

  Arianna wasn’t so sure that anything was sacred to her old friend. Pleasure and principle didn’t mix well.

  Her gaze made him look away. Shifting uncomfortably, he expelled another sigh. “Actually, I wasn’t entirely forthcoming earlier. There was a letter from a certain official at the Foreign Office in the dispatch bag aboard Basilisk.”

  The earl’s mouth thinned for an instant. “Pray tell—what did it say?”

  Wolff drew a folded missive from inside his shirt and held it up. “You are welcome to read it for yourself.”

  Saybrook plucked it from Wolff’s fingers. Paper cracked as he unfolded it and skimmed the contents.

  A silent oath rose inside her head, setting off a muffled tinkling of alarm bells. She had rarely seen his eyes look so black.

  “Uncle Charles will be unhappy to hear that a man whom he respects is a likely traitor who’s conspiring to bring war and chaos back to the Continent,” muttered the earl. “The message is innocuous—too innocuous to merit being in a diplomatic bag. I can’t be certain, of course, but I imagine it holds some sort of coded message.”

  “To whom is the letter addressed?” pressed Arianna.

  “Major Horatio Standish.”

  Catching the flicker of warning in the earl’s eyes, she was careful not to react. The Major was in charge of the Allied military observers on Elba—and was Eduardo’s commanding officer. But it was best that Wolff didn’t sniff out their interest. Predators, by their very nature, tended to pounce when they scented a weakness.

  “So Grentham was right to suspect there are conspirators within the British high command working with those who wish to bring back Napoleon,” she mused. “What would they have to gain? Aside from money, of course.”

  “Money is the root of all evil,” intoned Wolff. “One rarely has to look further than all those lovely golden guineas jingling in a fat purse.”

  “Some people do risk everything for principle,” she pointed out, thinking of Saybrook’s cousin and Henning’s nephew.

  Wolff made a rude sound.

  “I assume,” added Arianna, “the letter gives no hint as to the specifics of what’s being planned.”

  “No,” answered the earl. “But I take it as fair warning that some sinister mischief is afoot.”

  “And so when we arrive at Elba we must be ready to improvise.” Wolff pursed his lips. “About a great many things.”

  Chapter 18

  After another day of fair skies and strong winds, the following morning dawned with equal promise of excellent sailing weather. After the midday meal, Hamilton invited Arianna and Saybrook, along with Wolff and the baroness, to promenade on the quarterdeck while he checked the logbook and took some sightings.

  “We should be making landfall in several hours,” he announced with some satisfaction after snapping his spyglass shut. “We’ve made very good time.”

  “Elba.” Shading his eyes, Wolff leaned over the rail and stared ahead at the low-lying clouds hovering on the horizon. “Behold how far the mighty have fallen.”

  Arianna didn’t respond to the quip. Her thoughts had been churning over all the challenges that lay ahead on the tiny speck of land, trying to make some order of the facts they had in hand. And then out of the blue, the snick of the brass and something in Hamilton’s expression as he turned sparked a sudden idea.

  After catching Saybrook’s eye, she moved away from the others and found a secluded spot at the leeward rail. He joined her a moment later, his brows tweaking up in question.

  “A new thought has occurred to me regarding our mysterious fellow passenger,” she murmured.

  The earl leaned against the rail, back to the sea. “Which is?”

  They had discussed her discovery at length, and Saybrook had been very careful about jumping to conclusions about the conversation she had overheard, pointing out that there was a myriad of possible explanations for it, most of which had nothing to do with their concerns.

  Arianna wasn’t so sure of that. It was impossible to explain why, other than to say she knew Hamilton intimately enough to sense when he was on full alert.

  “You’ve always told me to trust my instincts,” she began. “I know you cautioned me about spinning an elaborately embroidered plot out of a single scrap of thread, but hear me out.”

  He nodded for her to go on.

  “First of all, there’s the strange coincidence of Hamilton rescuing us from the pirates. Now, I concede that chance occurrences do happen,” said Arianna. “But when you consider our encounter on the docks, and the unexpected offer of transport . . .”

  “You are suggesting it was all planned? And that when the first offer didn’t succeed, they staged an attack to drive us to the American ship?”

  Put that way, it did sound like a scenario from one of Mrs. Radcliffe’s horrid novels. But as Lord Byron had said, truth was always strange, stranger than fiction.

  She made herself continue. “I am suggesting it's possible. Especially when you look at how the other pieces of the puzzle might fit together.” In the privacy of their cabin, they had spent a great deal of time parsing over Holden's murder and how to make sense of it. But it was all wild guesses and conjectures.

  “The Frenchman’s comments about Holden, and his wish to land on the island without registering with Colonel Campbell hint at nefarious doings.”

  Saybrook didn’t demur.

  “And you have to admit, the Americans feel a kinship with the French, who supported their own violent revolution. They share radical views on the rights of the common man—”

  “They were not pleased when Napoleon turned his back on republicanism and crowned himself Emperor,” pointed out the earl.

  “They were even less pleased with Britain placing restrictions on continental trade and seizing their sailors. Ye God, it’s only been weeks since we were officially at war with their country.” She saw a frown flicker over his face. “Think on it. The American government has a number of reasons to be unhappy at the peace reigning in Europe, what with Britain being one of the main powers overseeing the new order of things. So what if . . .”

  Arianna glanced around before going on. “We know from Wolff that plans are underway for Napoleon to bolt. And to do so, he needs a ship. What better one than a well-armed war frigate? We both know the French and English ships tasked with patrolling the waters around Elba and keeping watch on the Emperor are no match for Captain Hamilton’s vessel.”

  “A plausible conjecture,” he conceded. “But it begs a very important question. If what you say is so, why are we still alive? They could easily have killed us and thrown us overboard with no one ever being the wiser.”

  “I don’t know,” admitted Arianna. “Perhaps they want us to . . . to . . .” She lifted her shoulders in surrender. “I’m not sure of the answer, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”

  “I think we are allowing speculation to take precedence over reason,” he replied. “We’ve actually learned some very useful things here on Mr. Hamilton’s ship. We know from Wolf
f that it’s likely there are British conspirators to deal with on the island. And we have the advantage over the mysterious Frenchman in that you’ve seen him and he doesn’t know it.” He glanced out over the ocean. “That will help us navigate the swirling currents and hidden reefs on Elba.”

  She was about to reply when the sound of approaching footsteps warned her to silence.

  “Admiring the ocean, I see.” It was Hamilton. He stopped and shaded his eyes as he turned his gaze to the horizon. The sun was at its zenith, and the sea sparkled with its quicksilver light, the myriad tiny shards looking like diamonds dancing on a rippling sea of indigo-green velvet.

  “I find I never tire of its quixotic beauty.”

  Arianna tried to read his expression. While most of his face was bathed in a golden glow, his hand cast a shadow over his eyes.

  “It’s constantly in motion,” mused the captain, “always evolving . . . one moment never the same as the next . . .”

  He came to stand close to her. “An apt metaphor for life, don’t you think?”

  She shrugged, setting off a faint rasp of wool on wool. “You should take up writing poetry in your hours of rest, sir.”

  He laughed. “There is no rest for the wicked. As commander of a warship, I can never fully let down my guard.”

  “Even in times of peace?” murmured Saybrook.

  Hamilton took a long moment before answering. “Let us see what the Congress of Vienna draws up as it final proclamations before having the church bells of Europe ring a Te Deum.”

  “Captain!” The hail floated down from the foredeck. “We’re ready for ye te take a look.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I must attend to a problem with the forward shrouds.” Hamilton darted another look at the horizon. “However, it won’t delay the journey. You may expect to reach Portoferraio harbor by sunset.”

  * * *

  As the pink and purpling haze of the low-lying clouds gave way to the prevailing winds, Arianna caught her first glimpse of Elba.

  “That’s Mount Capanne,” said Saybrook, pointing to the jutting peak rising up from the wind-carved jumble of granite and scrub. “It’s the highest spot on the island. This western tip is the most rugged. The center, which narrows to a width of only several miles, is flatter farmland, while the eastern section has the iron mines for which Elba is famous.”

  “How edifying to have a man of science able to explain the flora of the place,” drawled Wolff. Lowering his voice, he added, “Let us hope you’ll also prove an expert at understanding the local fauna.”

  “Alas, science is based on rational thought, not emotion,” replied the earl. “So one must use other means to comprehend the higher forms of life, such as Homo sapiens.”

  Arianna noted that the baroness paled and looked away from the fast-approaching land.

  Wolff had at least admitted some of his secrets, she mused, though it was a moot point on how much of what he had said was true. But Jelena’s personal motives were still a mystery.

  One that likely wouldn’t be resolved until they knew the identity of Johannes.

  “Well, I shall be very happy to have my feet on terra firma,” said Wolff, lifting his shoulders to flex a crick from his neck. “And sleep on a soft featherbed.”

  “That will have to wait until morning,” announced Hamilton as he rounded the mainmast in the company of his two lieutenants. “Protocol, I’m afraid. As you know, every visitor must present his papers to the English observer’s office and register his presence on the island. So you won’t be permitted to go ashore until morning.”

  “But our permission to visit the island comes from the very highest echelon of the British government,” countered Wolff. “So surely an exception can be made.”

  “As the representative of a foreign power, I dare not break the rules. Rowing ashore after dark might very well put my men and me at risk of being shot,” replied Hamilton. His gaze flicked to Arianna. “I trust we’ve not been such inhospitable hosts that you quail at the thought of spending one more night aboard ship.”

  “You’ve been more than accommodating, Captain,” she replied.

  He held her gaze for a moment, and then a small smile touched his lips. “It was a pleasure to be of service to an old friend.”

  Hamilton and his men then moved on. After a few moments, Jelena excused herself, and was immediately followed by Wolff, who hurried to catch up with her.

  “Let the cat-and-mouse games begin,” murmured Saybrook as he watched them disappear, arm-in-arm, into the shadows. “Though I fear the predators we will soon be facing will be far more dangerous than any feline.”

  Chapter 19

  “Welcome to Elba, Lord and Lady Saybrook.” Colonel Neil Campbell refolded the set of documents and retied the ribbon. “You served in the Peninsula with Wellington, I believe, sir?”

  “For a time, yes. Before his dukedom, when he was still Wellesley.”

  “I’ve heard excellent things about you,” said the colonel.

  “And I of you, and your time in Portugal.”

  “That was a grim business. Thank God the wars are over.” The papers crackled as Campbell handed them back to the earl. “But let us not dwell on past battles. You say your visit to the island is for, er, scientific reasons, not military matters.”

  To Arianna, the colonel sounded slightly perplexed.

  “Yes, I have a scholarly interest in botany, and have written a number of papers on the subject for the Royal Society's journal,” answered the earl. “Elba is home to a number of interesting species, and now that we are free to travel the Mediterranean, my wife and I decided to explore the island before heading on to visit Rome.”

  “Well, I can’t say I know a weed from a flower, but I’m delighted to hear of your expertise,” responded Campbell. He seemed a pleasant fellow. “As you know, Napoleon is fascinated by science, so I’m sure he’ll be very pleased to have you here. In fact, I invite you to attend his soiree tonight at Il Mulini.” The colonel cleared his throat with a wry cough “Or, as the emperor calls it, the Mulini Palace.”

  “Thank you,” replied Saybrook. “My wife and I would be delighted to be part of the gathering.”

  He offered Arianna his arm, and then paused. “One last thing—I dislike being the bearer of bad tidings, Colonel, but you ought to know there has been an unfortunate incident involving the ship bringing the government dispatches from London. The captain was forced to put into Gibraltar to repair damage to his steering cables. However, the purser at the naval dockyards warned that there might be a considerable delay before the work could be done.”

  The colonel frowned.

  “We were originally traveling on the dispatch ship, but when Captain Hamilton, who commands the American war frigate that just arrived in port, learned of the trouble, he was kind enough to offer us passage with him.

  “So, there’s no telling when the dispatches will arrive,” muttered Campbell. “That’s not good news, especially as . . .” He lapsed into a troubled silence.

  “I’m sure they’ll be here as soon as possible.”

  “Would that I could send a ship to make inquiries. But I’m woefully undermanned as it is.” The colonel looked up. “I shall have to hope you are right, milord.”

  “As I said, I regret casting a shadow over your morning.”

  “Give thanks that you’re not involved in the cursedly complicated tangle of international politics,” grumbled the colonel. “Enjoy your garden rambles. I shall see you this evening.”

  “I don’t envy him his job,” murmured the earl, once they had left the building and descended into the street.

  “I daresay our mission won’t be any easier,” responded Arianna. Given Wolff’s hints that time was ticking away, the task felt even more daunting. “Speaking of which, how do you wish to begin?”

  “Let us get our belongings settled into our rooms at the inn. And then I suggest we take a stroll through town and contrive to pass by the house where Eduardo
was quartered. As newly-arrived visitors from England, it’s only natural that we would want to stop and chat if we encounter fellow countrymen . . . like Major Standish.”

  “Bell the cat, so to speak?” she quipped.

  “We’ve no time to shilly-shally,” he replied tightly. “So yes, let’s see what information we can wrinkle out of him regarding either Eduardo or the Emperor’s intentions.

  “Assuming they aren’t one in the same,” said Arianna softly.

  The earl quickened his pace. “Hamilton said he would have our baggage delivered to the inn. I need to fetch my specimen journal and reference book on Mediterranean plants in order to play the role of an inquisitive botanist. And then we can be on our way.”

  Arianna merely nodded, hoping Saybrook’s unshakable belief in his cousin’s innocence would prove right. His sense of loyalty was such an integral part of his essence that she feared he would take a betrayal by his cousin very hard.

  For him, there were no nuances possible in the concept of honor. It was simply and starkly defined. Black or white.

  While the rest of us tell ourselves it can be blurred into an infinite range of greys.

  His passionate belief in principles had reshaped her own views on right and wrong. She still struggled at times—the excuse of expediency was awfully seductive—but his example was like an unwavering compass, pointing to the right course through Life’s chaos.

  Which is why she knew so viscerally that principle didn’t come without pain.

  * * *

  A charming confection of pale, pastel-colored buildings crowned with terracotta roof tiles, the town of Portoferraio was set on a small peninsula jutting out into the Ligurian Sea.

  Saybrook stood in the Piazza Cavour, set close to the quay of the inner harbor, and turned slowly in a circle to survey the surroundings. “The bay is an excellent natural harbor,” he observed, “and perfectly situated for defending against attack. See how this western spit of land . . .” He gestured up at the fortress above them. “ . . . curls in to form one protective arm, while the eastern peninsula there across the water, forms the other.”