“De Vere, of course.” This line of questioning he could answer honestly. “You know as well as anyone that he’s crooked, and very dirty. I suspect him of espionage at the very least, treason even.”
“She knows something,” Daniel said. “What?”
“Names,” Barnabas said. “Names that would send shock waves throughout the kingdom.”
“Damn,” Daniel said under his breath. “Has he tried to retrieve her?”
“Several times when she was in Hampstead, but I had men on the scene. She had no idea. Up until then I only suspected that she might know something. But his determination to get her back without a public outcry or legal interference made me sure of it. I felt the safest place for her was under my watchful eye.”
“And she hasn’t been under anything else?” Daniel asked sarcastically. “I’m well aware she used to be quite lovely and rather naughty, your favorite flavor.”
“You tread very close to the edge, my friend,” Barnabas said with a warning in his voice.
“What’s this? Defending the lady’s honor? Dare I hope she’s unlocked your cold heart?” Daniel teased. It was clear he had no idea how close to the truth he was.
“My heart is an iceberg,” Barnabas said. “Never fear.” A knock at his office door made him gesture sharply to Daniel to be quiet. “Yes?” he barked.
“Sir, I have news of Mr. Gantry,” his secretary called through the door. “From Mr. McKenzie.”
Before Barnabas could bid him enter, Daniel had ripped open the door. “Has he found him?” he demanded.
“N-no, sir,” the man stammered. He thrust out a note. “Here is what he knows.”
“Yes, thank you,” Barnabas said sharply. “In future, kindly hand me my notes and not Mr. Steinberg.”
“Yes, sir.”
His secretary slunk away and Daniel closed the door. He stood in front of it and opened the note, scanning it quickly. “He says he has very reliable information that Simon was seen being dragged onto a ship three days ago.” Daniel’s face grew pale. “Three days! That’s a huge lead on us.” He looked back down. “From what he can gather it was one of de Vere’s, headed for…” He looked up with a bleak expression. “The Barbary Coast.”
“So he means to sell him,” Barnabas said crisply. “Good. That means, if Simon doesn’t play the fool, we can find him. De Vere was likely hoping to rub our noses in it. Idiot. I can find you a ship, but it will take a day or two.”
“Don’t bother,” Daniel said. “We can take one of Harry’s. He has three in dock right now.”
“Of course he does. Men?” Barnabas asked as Daniel folded the note and put it in his pocket.
“He has a crew, of course,” Daniel said with a frown. “At least half are Americans. But soldiers? No.”
“I can spare some men,” Barnabas said. “There are several who would relish the chance at an adventure to rescue a fellow agent from Barbary pirates.”
“I don’t need adventurers,” Daniel snapped. “I need soldiers.”
“One does not exclude the other,” Barnabas chided lightly. “I do not employ incompetent men.” He pulled a clean sheet of paper out of the desk. As he picked up his pen, he noted the ink stains on his fingers with a wry smile. There was a time he would have been on that ship. But he knew England could not afford his absence. Neither could Mel or Ambrose. “Take this note to Arbuthnot at the dock. He will know what to do. But we must do it quietly. This is not Home Office business.”
“Of course.” Daniel took the folded and sealed note when Barnabas was done. He paused. “Thank you, Barnabas,” he said. “You once told me that you try to give people what they need, and that you gave Simon me. But I needed his friendship just as much.”
“I was wrong,” Barnabas said. “I thought you were all Simon needed. In the last few months I have realized you are not enough.”
Daniel frowned. “Is that yet another criticism of my renewed relationship with Harry?” he asked tightly. “Are you trying to wound me by reminding me that I have let Simon down?”
“No,” Barnabas said honestly. “I am simply stating fact. Simon still has not dealt with the demons that drove him to war in the first place. Should you bring him back alive, I think we will need to force the issue. But that discussion is for another time.”
Daniel nodded curtly. “Yes, it is. I wonder if he knows he has a friend in you, as well.”
“Good God, I hope not,” Barnabas said fervently. “I spend enough time saving him and that madcap group of acquaintances of yours. Can you imagine if he knew I cared about him even a little bit? I’d never have a moment to spare for government business.”
Daniel laughed. “I shall leave you to your government business,” he said, walking to the door.
“Daniel.” Barnabas stopped him before he opened the door. “Be careful. I would not like to have to rescue you. Or that devil Ashbury.”
Daniel grinned and saluted him with the letter before he sailed out the door.
Chapter 25
“Ah, Wetherald,” a man drawled sarcastically from behind Ambrose. “So good of you to tear yourself away from your newest pursuits to attend a session.”
Several loud guffaws followed the remark. Ambrose turned to see Lord Hargraves smirking at him while several of his cronies laughed. Since Ambrose had been one of his staunchest supporters, the public attack was unexpected. But the flash of anger in Hargraves’s eyes was unmistakable. He had to know that Ambrose knew of his perfidy, and this was a calculated offensive to allay any suspicions that Ambrose might cast his way if he revealed what Mel had told him.
“Lord Hargraves,” he said coolly, taking off his hat and handing it and his gloves to the footman. “Gentlemen.” He showed no embarrassment or remorse. To do so would weaken his position. In the past he would have been mortified. He had changed in the short time he’d been with Barnabas. And now he had Mel to protect. “If you will excuse us, gentlemen,” he said with a polite bow. “I wish to discuss today’s vote with Lord Hargraves.” It was obvious his cool demeanor and failure to appear guilty or embarrassed had confused the others.
“Dare I?” Hargraves asked them in mock fear. Some tittered nervously.
“Why would you not?” Ambrose said innocently. “Have you changed your vote, then?” His intense focus on the political task at hand was customary for him, and the others lost interest in the conversation, clearly deducing that Hargraves had been spreading unfounded rumors. A point for me, Ambrose thought grimly.
Hargraves expression grew hard as soon as they were left alone. “I am well aware of where and how you have been spending your time, Wetherald,” he said in disapproving, stentorian tones.
“The fact that you dare cast stones, Master Graves, is beyond belief,” Ambrose said tightly, using the name Mel had used for him. “I very much wanted to throw my glove in your face the minute I saw you this morning. I refrained, however, because the reputation of a lady is at stake.”
“A lady,” he sneered. “Hardly. She’s married to a common criminal with pretensions of nobility. She gladly spread her legs for me and for others at his command. It was a lark between she and de Vere.”
“It was nothing of the kind,” Ambrose bit out. “She was betrayed and imprisoned by him, and rather than help her, you took advantage of her situation to rape and abuse her.”
“She is an opium-addicted whore,” Hargraves said impatiently. “I cannot believe a man of your virtue and station would associate with her, much less believe her lies.”
“She took the opium so that she could endure the rape and abuse of men like you and de Vere,” Ambrose whispered furiously.
“She begged for the opium before I even touched her,” Hargraves said dismissively. “And trust me, when instructed she begged for more than that, as well.” He leered. “Quite convenient she was, you know. A man in my position certainly can’t expect his wife to satisfy certain needs, and going to a less discreet bawdy house has ruined lesser men. She and de V
ere were extremely discreet. Until now.” He frowned. “If word of any of our liaisons gets out, I shall ruin you, Wetherald. As I said, I know where you’ve been and what you’ve been up to.” He smirked again. “I shall bring you down and your despicable little gypsy lover, Sir Barnabas James.”
“Despicable gypsy lover?” Ambrose prevaricated, refusing to confirm anything while reining in his temper. “I have heard Sir Barnabas James called many things, but never that. How extraordinary.”
“De Vere told me everything, so you needn’t pretend innocence. He’s furious that James has kidnapped his wife and refuses to return her. Can’t say as I blame him. Even though she’s an addict and too skinny and flat-chested for my taste, her willingness to do anything asked of her made her good sport.”
Ambrose fisted his hands at his side. “If she did not do as asked, she was starved,” he said. “What did de Vere demand in return for her services?”
Hargraves appeared distinctly nervous and looked around not meeting Ambrose’s direct gaze. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. It was simply a lark among friends.”
“Sir Barnabas will find out,” Ambrose warned. “He is on to you and de Vere and your games now. He knows de Vere is spying for someone, and he knows you and Meeks are helping him, in return for his letting you repeatedly rape his wife.”
“Those are all lies you’ve concocted to hide your own perverse pleasures,” Hargraves hissed, frantically looking around. “That is what I will tell everyone. I will prove you guilty of buggery and your word will mean nothing.”
“It is not only my word,” Ambrose said. “And I would tread very carefully. Were I you I would think twice about spreading unfounded rumors. Sir Barnabas James is a very dangerous man to cross.”
“Is that a threat?” Hargraves asked with a laugh. “He’s a dog on a leash. Even a vicious dog in that situation is at the command of its master.”
“Meaning what?” Ambrose asked. “You have no power over him.”
“You are a naïve fool if you think his betters will let him ruin a man of my station and reputation,” Hargraves said. “There are protocols that must be observed if we are to maintain the aristocratic yoke on the rabble of England.”
“And you are a naïve fool if you think Sir Barnabas James can’t kill you and maintain the sanctity of the English nobility,” Ambrose said. “He covers up more scandal in one day than you can dream of in your lifetime. Do you honestly think you are the only miscreant in the British aristocracy? If I were you, I’d start wondering where Meeks is.” Ambrose had no idea where Meeks was, but he was relatively sure he wasn’t at today’s session. Hargraves blanched face confirmed it.
“You will regret pursuing this,” Hargraves warned.
“I very much doubt that,” Ambrose said. “I will watch with glee as Sir Barnabas buries you.”
* * *
“Good evening, Soames,” Ambrose said as he handed the butler his hat and gloves. “Is Sir Barnabas in his study?”
“No, sir,” Soames said, passing off his items to a footman. “He is not at home.”
“Oh dear,” Ambrose said with a sigh. It was nearly ten o’clock. “That doesn’t bode well.”
“Not usually, sir,” Soames agreed. “Mrs. Jones”—he practically rolled his eyes at the fabricated name—“had Cook prepare a late dinner and left instructions we were to serve as soon as you or Sir Barnabas arrived home.”
Ambrose paused for a moment on his way to the study. Home. He supposed it had become his second home in the last week at least. As a matter of fact, he’d come directly here after leaving Parliament. He hadn’t seen Barnabas there today, and now his late arrival. Something serious must have happened.
“Where is Mrs. Jones?” he asked with a straight face.
“She has retired,” Soames said. He sounded as if he disapproved, which was a surprise as he rarely disapproved of anything Mel did except housekeeping duties.
“Would you be so kind as to send for her?” he asked with a smile. “I hate to eat alone.”
“Very good, sir,” Soames said with a hint of a smile. That probably meant she hadn’t eaten.
Ambrose detoured from the study and made his way to the dining room. He poured himself a brandy at the sideboard and waited for Mel’s arrival. The footman came in and began setting the table. He was a big fellow, as were most of Barnabas’s servants. Ambrose wondered if perhaps he’d served in the war under Barnabas in some capacity.
There was some harsh whispering outside the dining room and then the door opened suddenly to reveal Mel standing there, frowning fiercely at Soames. Soames stared off over her shoulder as he held the door open for her. She wore her usual navy dress and equally severe chignon. She looked absolutely lovely as she turned her frown on Ambrose.
“You wished to see me, my lord?” she said formally.
“No,” he said. “I wished to dine with you. Come here.” He pulled out a chair and held it for her.
“I ate earlier this evening, thank you, my lord,” she said.
“I believe you are mistaken, ma’am,” the footman said with a frown. “You have not eaten this evening.”
“I believe you are mistaken, Jack,” she snapped back.
“No, ma’am,” he said, not the least perturbed by her annoyance. “Cook was only just telling me downstairs that she made enough for three and no one has eaten a bite.”
Mel’s frown turned to a glare. “I had some bread and cheese. I am fine. Thank you.”
“Oh, do come and eat with me, Mel,” Ambrose said in his best woe begotten voice. “I’m haven’t had a thing all day and I’m starving. I hate eating alone.” He pulled the chair out a little farther. “At least sit down with me.”
She stood on the threshold and he could see her debating whether or not to enter. “I don’t know why you and Barnabas…Sir Barnabas,” she corrected herself, “are always trying to get me to eat.”
“Because we have seen you go hungry,” he said simply. “And we never want to see it again.”
Her shoulders slumped. “All right,” she said ungraciously as she dragged her feet over to the table and sat down. “You don’t play fair at all.”
“No, I do not,” he said. “Not anymore. I have learned that fair play never won fair maiden or anything else I desired.” Mel blushed and looked at Jack the footman, who was busy pretending to be blind, deaf and dumb while he served them.
“Learned that from Barnabas, did you?” she said drily.
“Why yes, I did,” he said, feigning surprise. “How did you know?”
“Ha ha.” She leaned back and let Jack pour her a cup of tea. “No dinner for me,” she told him. “Where have you been all day?” she asked Ambrose.
“Dinner for Mrs. Jones,” Ambrose told Jack, who promptly filled her plate. She glared at Ambrose. “In session,” he answered her question and ignored the glare. “There was debate and vote on a bill I opposed. And Barnabas supported.”
“Oh dear,” she said with a little grin. “And who won the day?”
“I showed up,” Ambrose said. “He did not. I can only conclude he tacitly admitted defeat even before the vote was in.”
“Congratulations,” she said, toasting him with her teacup. He lifted his brandy and clinked her glass with his.
“Thank you,” he said. “Although the truth is I’m a little worried that he wasn’t there being a thorn in my side. He was adamant this bill be passed. I’m afraid something drastic must have occurred to keep him away.”
He paused, not sure whether or not to tell Mel about his confrontation with Hargraves. “Are you the sort of woman who wants to know everything?” he asked. She looked startled at the question. “Or the sort of woman who would rather be left in the dark as long as she is not discommoded?”
She looked at him suspiciously. “I’m the sort of woman who is going to take drastic action if you don’t tell me what prompted that question.”
“As I suspected,” he said. “I ran into
Lord Hargraves.”
“Thank you, Jack,” she said, turning to the footman. “That will be all. We shall ring when we need you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jack said, and left with a little bow.
“You’re getting very good at ordering the servants about,” Ambrose told her.
“I was always good at ordering servants about,” she told him. “Perhaps too good. What happened?”
“I confronted him, of course,” Ambrose said, his anger rising again as he recalled their conversation. “He showed no remorse as he admitted it all.” He took her hand in his. “He is claiming that you were a willing participant, and took the drugs willingly.”
“Once I found out what they did for me, he’s right,” she said flatly. “You know that’s not true. The other part, I mean.”
“I know.” He squeezed her hand. “Eat.” She dutifully picked up her fork and ate a few bites.
“What is he going to do?” she finally asked, her voice filled with dread.
“He threatened to denounce me and Barnabas and our relationship if word of his treatment of you gets out.”
“How does he know about you and Barnabas?” she exclaimed.
“De Vere.” He sighed grimly. “He as much as admitted he gave de Vere privy information for access to you. He also said de Vere is furious that Barnabas kidnapped you and refuses to return you.”
“I was unaware he’d demanded my return,” she said, looking wan and pale as she set her fork down.
“He has sent men after you,” Ambrose told her, putting his own fork down. “In Hampstead. I can only assume here as well. Barnabas has had men watching you since we rescued you. They have thwarted his attempts to retrieve you.”
She covered her mouth with a shaking hand, her eyes wide. “I didn’t know,” she whispered.
“He didn’t want you to know,” Ambrose told her. “He didn’t want you to worry.”
For Love and Country (Brothers in Arms Book 13) Page 20