My Lord the Spy

by Audrey Harrison

  “Will he not hang for his treason?”

  “No. It wouldn’t benefit anyone to see a member of the aristocracy hanged. It could put ideas into the heads of those who would like to see a revolution in England. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to keep my head! He’ll be exiled, probably to Italy; it’s best that way,” Henry responded.

  “So, you’ll be glad to see the likes of Shambles hanged, but no one with a title?” Edmund asked with derision. Henry’s double standards did not agree with his own principles. If someone did wrong; they should suffer the consequences; it should not depend on who they were. It was one of the hypocrisies that made him despise the class of people he belonged to.

  “Good lord, Chertsey! You do have the most peculiar ideas sometimes. Enough of this nonsense; I have made my report, and he will be receiving a visit later today. I thought it best not to make an appearance. I can’t stand it when a woman realises she’s been used and turns into a watering pot; it is pitiful to witness,” Henry said with a shudder.

  “Sometimes I don’t know how you sleep at night.” Edmund shook his head at his friend. He was sure Henry would be capable of using anyone to get what he wanted.

  “Perfectly soundly, my dear man! My conscience is completely clear! Anyway enough of this nonsense. Back to more interesting matters. What have you been up to that results in such an early visit?”

  “Finding out something interesting actually. It appears our young Baron and his friend are going to the coast to arrive on Thursday for a short stay,” Edmund said smugly.

  “Really? Well that is worth knowing!” Henry said, swirling the liquid in his glass before downing the drink. “It appears we will be visiting Brandon sooner than I anticipated.”

  “Are you sure he will welcome you?” Edmund asked. Their mutual friend had been livid the last time they had seen him.

  “I shall be my usual charming self,” Henry said reassuringly.

  “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  “He won’t be able to refuse; I’ll make sure of it. You worry too much. It appears that Joshua is about to show us what he’s really up to.”

  “It could still be smuggling,” Edmund reasoned.

  “No, he wouldn’t be going to the coast for something as trivial as watching the barrels being landed. There must be another reason.”

  “Is there something you’re not telling me?” Edmund asked. He was not one for romantic ideas, but Henry seemed far too focused on Joshua Shambles; they had chased other offenders in the past, but Henry had never been so intent on bringing down one specific person.

  Henry had the grace to look a little uncomfortable, but the expression was fleeting and soon replaced by his usual confidence. “I keep telling you he’s up to something; that’s all I know.”

  “That’s a hunch. We are going to a lot of effort for something that is based on pure feeling.”

  “Trust me! It’ll be worth it; I’m sure of it.”

  *

  Charles almost exploded into the drawing room. “Excellent news, Clara! Mr and Mrs Beresford and Miss Beresford are to join us at Glazebrook House!”

  “Oh, Charles! That is wonderful indeed!” Clara said genuinely. “It must mean you are considered a serious suitor for Miss Beresford.”

  “I jolly well hope so!” Charles said with a grin. “They can only arrive on Sunday, but will stay until Thursday.”

  “That’s a lot of time away from London at this point in the season,” Clara responded.

  “Yes, and if everything goes to plan, Miss Beresford will be engaged by Thursday!”

  “I hope it does. Is that everyone confirmed now?” After thinking long and hard Clara had decided to leave Charles to invite who he wished; it was to be his house party, and she thought interference would only cause another argument between them.

  “Yes, that’s Arthur and Herbert attending; along with the Beresfords and a friend of Miss Beresford, a Miss Walsh. Along with Joshua, and ourselves, it will be a cosy party,” Charles finished, well pleased with his arrangements.

  “There are more single gentlemen than unmarried ladies,” Milly interjected gently. “A house party usually tries to have even numbers.”

  “As long as there are more gentlemen than ladies present, it will always be considered a good thing for the ladies,” Clara responded with a smile.

  “That’s a good point,” Charles mused. “The numbers will actually be even more uneven. I bumped into Lord Chertsey today, and he informed me that Lord Grinstead and he have been invited to stay with Mr Brandon. They’ll be our neighbours from Sunday, so I obviously extended an invitation to them and the Brandons to visit regularly and take part in our little house party.”

  Milly and Clara had both looked at each other in surprise at Charles’ information. It was only hours previously they had seen Edmund, and he had not been going on a visit, of that they were sure. Milly gave her cousin a knowing look which caused her to flush. Charles was too engrossed in the excitement of the visit to notice the exchange.

  Eventually Charles bounded out of the room intent on meeting Joshua and telling him of his plans for a fun week.

  When silence settled on the room, Clara became focused on her sewing. Milly watched her relation with amusement as Clara refused to look at her.

  “So, Lord Chertsey is going to Dorset,” Milly said eventually.

  “It appears so,” Clara replied with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders.

  “And yet this morning, he was not.”

  “Single men are often prone to change their plans; just look at Charles.”

  “Young, single men, I agree, but the more mature man I believe less so.”

  Clara smiled at Milly, for the first time meeting her cousin’s gaze. “Are you saying Lord Chertsey is in his dotage? I’m sure he’ll be delighted to hear that!”

  Milly laughed. “You know exactly what I am referring to. Charles might not be the only one announcing an engagement by the end of next week.”

  “Oh, Milly, stop it!” Clara pleaded. “Don’t let your imagination run away with itself.”

  “I won’t. But I will be watching with interest, my dear. You continue to ignore the signs; I don’t. It seems the Earl is sweet on you after all!”

  Clara smiled at her cousin, but refrained from commenting. Her own imagination was running wild enough for the both of them. She could not but wonder at the reason for two Earls to travel down to the coast at the height of the season. She tried to think of a reasonable excuse but her heart refused to be sensible, and she was left feeling a little breathless at the thought of what could happen.

  Chapter 9

  The journey to Dorset was not undertaken in the usual way. Clara would normally ride alongside Charles, preferring horseback to the confines of a carriage. Milly was more than happy to occupy the carriage, busying herself with crochet or knitting while the carriage trundled along at its steady pace.

  Joshua Shambles was no horseman, which was further ammunition to Clara that his claim to being a gentleman was an untruth; most gentlemen were put in the saddle almost as soon as they could walk. With Joshua travelling in the carriage, Clara felt obliged to travel with Milly; as Charles was under no illusion what his sister thought of his friend, Charles was forced also to travel in the carriage to try to keep the peace.

  A full carriage was thus conveyed from London to Dorset with very little conversation and more than a hint of uncomfortable atmosphere.

  Clara always looked forward to going back home. She loved the sea, and having daily access to it always gave her a sense of peace and contentment. Milly would advise Clara to cover-up to prevent her skin from weathering in the salty air, but Clara always felt free near the sea, something that London society never gave her.

  Glazebrook House was situated on a headland near Seaton. It was within a few miles of Lyme Regis but far enough away to feel as if it was away from the hustle and bustle of a town. The House was made of red brick but, instead of bei
ng turned towards the drive to greet its visitors, the front of the house was facing the sea to maximise the effect of the views from inside the house. This meant that visitors approaching the building for the first time saw the side vista of the house, which often fooled them into thinking that the home was nothing spectacular.

  To be fair, there were far grander houses within many miles of the Baker home, but the situation of the building and the ability to watch fully the sea in all its glory, whether aqua and calm or grey and angry, led visitors to look back on a stay with more praise than the house would warrant in another location.

  To Clara it was home and, although Charles’ criticism of their parent’s lives was harsh, Clara had to acknowledge that theirs had been a relatively quiet existence. They had not continued to frequent the London season once married, preferring trips to Lyme for entertainments and, if those were perceived to be too far, local families provided enough amusement for the elders in the family. It was not unusual for a young man to feel confined by a restrictive lifestyle, but Clara still stung from the condemning words about her parents’ marriage; she was more inclined to look back on her early life with a lot of affection.

  The evening of their arrival they dined alone. Clara made a real effort to be polite to Mr Shambles, but she would never be happy in his company. Milly tried to monopolise Joshua when Charles was not speaking to his friend, so Clara would not feel pressured into talking to him. Milly was of a more easy-going nature than her cousin and could chatter to most people without it grating on her nerves; Clara, on the other hand, would start to wear a pained expression and leave few of her real feelings hidden no matter how hard she tried.

  When the ladies withdrew, Clara sat on one of the chairs in the drawing room with a sigh.

  “A headache already?” Milly asked with a smile.

  “I cannot like him,” Clara responded. “It makes me seem intolerant that I am not welcoming to someone who is not titled or a gentleman, but it’s not that; it really isn’t. I don’t trust him or his motives at befriending Charles; it just doesn’t sit right. Their characters are so different!”

  “I can’t say I’m fond of him either, but at least here there isn’t too much they can get involved with; Seaton is hardly a den of inequity!”

  “No! Thank goodness!” Clara said with feeling.

  An early night was in order and, almost as soon as the gentlemen joined them, Clara and Milly excused themselves and escaped to their bedchambers.

  *

  Clara and Milly joined Joshua and Charles on a mid-morning walk. Charles was keen to show Joshua his estate, and Joshua was keen to see the beach and sea, admitting he had never actually seen the sea before.

  The four left the house behind and headed towards the cliff edge. The land gave the appearance of ending suddenly, but Joshua saw, as previous visitors had found out, there was a pathway down to a sheltered beach. The cliffs curved at that point of the bay to form a natural u-shape, giving the impression of the beach being private, but in reality it was just a section of a far larger sweep of coastline.

  At the top of the path was a large summerhouse. The windows all faced towards the sea and there was a balcony for enjoying the calmer summer days.

  “Mother loved the sea and, when she was ill, she would spend as much time in here as possible. She longed to go down to the beach but was unable to do so,” Charles explained to Joshua.

  “So, this is a new addition. It’s a very fine building. It must feel as if there’s no one else around,” Joshua responded. “It is a grand structure.”

  It was a grandly built summerhouse, built that way partly to withstand the harsh winters when the elements battered the land. As in the main house, the summerhouse windows faced forward towards the sea, and a double door allowed the fresh breeze entrance when the weather was calm. It was still furnished with the heavily cushioned chairs that had been installed for their mother, neither child wishing to change the sanctuary. Clara could almost still see the image of her mother curled up, wrapped in a large blanket, her eyes gazing on the ocean but never averse to an interruption by one of her children.

  “Let’s go down to the beach; I’ll show you our caves!” Charles said eagerly, before a shout from behind caught his attention.

  The group turned in the direction of the shout and saw three figures making their way across the grass towards them. Clara recognised at least one of the figures as Lord Chertsey, and her colour heightened. She refused to meet Milly’s gaze, which she knew was aimed in her direction but absent-mindedly ran her hands down her dress. She was vain enough to be glad to have dressed in her best primrose day dress and cream spencer. She concealed her face by turning her head, the brim of her bonnet hiding her flush until the group caught up with them.

  Mr Brandon arrived with his two friends, having forgiven Henry for his past demeanours and greeted the group with a smile. “Good morning! The footman said that you were headed towards the beach, so I thought you wouldn’t mind us joining you, us all being friends.”

  “Of course we don’t mind!” Charles smiled in response. He carried out the introductions to Joshua and welcomed Lord Chertsey and Grinstead to his home. “I’d thought you were coming down on Sunday!”

  “We were but then decided that an early escape from London would be to our benefit,” Henry responded, failing to mention that Edmund had pushed for them to set-off as soon as possible, citing that they did not wish to lose a single day of observing Joshua.

  “Excellent! Mr Beresford and his family will be joining us on Sunday; you shall have to accompany us in any outings we arrange,” Charles said easily.

  “That’s a capital plan!” Mr Brandon said jovially. “I was wondering how I was going to entertain these two rakes. I don’t rattle around town as I used to; marriage is far better for a man than the single life.” He responded by rubbing his expanding waistline and looking very pleased with his lot.

  Clara had not managed to look at Edmund since his arrival, but a glance at his face at Mr Brandon’s words almost made her laugh out loud. She was not sure whether it was Mr Brandon’s waistline, or his comparison to a rake in front of two single ladies that had Edmund looking at his host incredulously.

  The group moved down to the path that led to the beach. It was a wide pathway that had been worn into a gentle slope. It was easily wide enough for two people to walk side by side without fear of falling over the edge.

  “I had visions of a scramble downwards,” Henry said to Clara as they walked. Edmund had offered his arm to Milly; something that both disappointed Clara and made her happy.

  “It used to be more difficult, but my father had the path improved at the start of my mother’s illness. That way a sedan chair could be brought down to the beach, and she could bathe in the sea when she was able,” Clara explained.

  “A thoughtful gesture.”

  “It was at the time when we all had hope for a recovery,” Clara said quietly.

  “It is difficult when a loved one is ill. I have not had to experience that myself. I’m fortunate my family is estranged,” Henry said with a smile. “It makes life far simpler.”

  “I’m sure it does but, as much as I clash with Charles, I would hate to have a permanent rift with him. I would miss him too much!”

  “I just fill my times with other entertainments. When one doesn’t have to worry about family, it is quite freeing.”

  “Doesn’t it get lonely?” Clara was very curious about Henry but more so that he seemed to have a similar lifestyle to that of Edmund.

  Henry paused before answering. “In these troubled times, it is wiser not to form attachments.”

  “I’m not convinced that Bonaparte could actually invade us at any moment,” Clara laughed. “I seem to have more faith in our navy than you do, My Lord.”

  The party rearranged itself once all the walkers reached the beach. The ground was a mixture of sand and pebbles but, closer to the water, the ground turned to pure sand. Charles, Brandon,
Henry and Joshua went off to explore the caves with Charles leading the way, his excited chatter proving how immature he still was; he moved around the group almost like an excited puppy, ushering everyone along.

  Milly settled down in her favourite spot and took out her ever present drawing booklet from her reticule and settled down to draw. Her reticules were made larger than was the custom to enable her to always carry her booklet and pencils.

  Clara finally was able to meet Edmund’s eyes and smiled when he indicated with his arm that they should walk along the shoreline.

  “Not exploring the caves, Miss Baker?”

  “No. Although I know the very high tides only happen a few times a year, I’ve always had a fear of getting trapped in them. Charles always teases me about my irrational thoughts, but I’d rather be out on the beach,” Clara replied honestly.

  “Do they go far under the cliffs?”

  “Charles says far enough that the tides don’t reach the end, but he’s never been there to be totally sure, thankfully.”

  “The sea must have reached the end once upon a time, to have worn the stone away,” Edmund reasoned.

  “That’s exactly what I say!” Clara responded with feeling. “Although Charles counters that with tales of smugglers and pirates making the caves larger to store their produce safely.”

  “I didn’t realise your family had such high connections,” Edmund responded drily.

  Clara laughed. “Charles would love to have pirates in the family; unfortunately for him, our ancestors have been predictable and boring. Lord Grinstead has a unique outlook on life.” She could not help changing the subject and trying to question Edmund while she had the opportunity.

  “Oh?”

  “He doesn’t seem to like forming attachments.” Clara tried to give a nonchalant look, but she was very keen to hear Edmund’s view on relationships.

  A slightly wary look had crossed Edmund’s face, but he had been quick to hide it. “I suppose that’s why we get on so well; neither of us is keen to perform the way society expects, surrounding ourselves with hangers on and so-called friends. It’s all too much like hard work, pretending to like people’s foibles when, most of the time, they are boring one to death.”