by Brooke, Meg
“The assassin.”
“Yes.”
“He must be brought to London, of course. There’s nothing for it, no matter how much we might wish to conceal these events.”
“You mean, to be executed?”
Palmerston shrugged. “That is not for you or I to say.”
“I came, My Lord, to plead for his life.”
Palmerston had not yet looked up from his paper, but now he did, his eyes very wide as he stared at Colin. “Did you really?” he asked. “How extraordinary.”
“He is a boy, My Lord,” Colin said. “He was forced into this life by poverty and desperation and a desire to do something to stop the overthrow of his country. He has done nothing wrong. He and his cousin tried to stop Strathmore and the other accomplice from doing what they did, but they failed, and his cousin was killed for his qualms. He does not deserve to be executed for the crimes of others.”
“What do you propose I do? Put him on the next ship to Algeria?”
Colin had been mulling over this problem since leaving Sidney Park. Clearly, Udad could not be sent back to his home; it would be unthinkable. But he also should not spend the rest of his days rotting in a British prison. “Release him to me,” he said. When Palmerston blinked at him, he said, “I will be responsible for him.”
“What will you do with him?”
“He reads and writes Arabic. He is a quick learner—he could be taught other languages as well. He would be a valuable asset to me.”
“You wish to take him on as...as an assistant?”
Colin nodded.
Palmerston lifted the glass of brandy that had been sitting untouched at his elbow and took a sip. “You are, Lord Pierce, the strangest spy I have ever had in my employ.”
“I’m not a spy any longer, Lord Palmerston.”
“With a man like that at your side, you could be.”
Colin shook his head. “I have a wife to think of now, My Lord. I’d prefer to stay on the lighter side of the Foreign Service.”
“Ah, yes. The new Lady Pierce. I had almost forgotten.” The Foreign Secretary sounded as though he had just discovered that the dog he had set to guard the henhouse was, in fact, a fox.
Colin flushed and looked down at his hands. “It was entirely my fault, My Lord.”
“I don’t doubt it. Tell me, will she like Brussels, this sister of Lord Sidney’s?”
“I think so. She has some...misgivings, but they will pass.”
“Of course,” Palmerston said, not sounding entirely convinced. Colin could not blame the man, since he was not convinced himself.
“She is not my primary concern now, My Lord.”
“She jolly well should be!” Palmerston chuckled. “You, young man, have not been married long enough, but you will learn that a woman ought always to be one’s primary concern, even when one is a thousand miles away. If it weren’t for the infernal creatures I would not be departing for Vienna in three days, dash it all.”
“Thank you, My Lord, for that sage advice,” Colin retorted, though he smiled as he realized that it was Palmerston’s mistress, Lady Cowper, who drew him to the Continent. “What I meant was: what do you say about Mr. Udad?”
“Is that his name? Well, Lord Pierce, if you can figure out how to remove the man from England without anyone being the wiser, I’ll turn a blind eye. I can’t say that I like it, but I think it would save the country a good deal of fear and anxiety to never know that he even existed. But he can never return here, do you understand?”
“Of course, My Lord,” Colin said. With his contacts, it would be easy to slip Udad out of the country. “Thank you, My Lord.” He rose.
“Are you staying in London?”
Colin nodded. “Just for tonight. There is a costume ball at Sidney Park tomorrow that I’ve promised to attend.”
“Isn’t the princess a little young for a masquerade?”
“Apparently her mother adores them, and is not particularly troubled with whether or not her daughter is able to attend.”
Palmerston smiled. “Why don’t you stay for dinner, then, and tell me everything else I have not already heard about your escapades in Norfolk?”
“I would be happy to, My Lord,” Colin said, “though I think it would take several dinners to tell you everything that has occurred in the last week.”
TWENTY-FIVE
September 6, 1834
Eleanor had spent a restless night, and waking to a sky full of hazy clouds and thick, humid air did nothing to improve her mood. She felt like a cloth someone had wrung out, and as she rang for Lily she wondered how she was going to make it through the day, let alone through the ordeal of the masquerade ball that awaited her. It was only as Lily was arranging her hair that it occurred to her that she had never bothered to consider a costume for Colin. Eleanor had planned to attend as Athena, but she could not quite imagine Colin donning a matching costume, and anyway Athena had never had a consort.
Assuming, of course, that he returned in time for the masquerade. Eleanor knew that he was doing important work, that Mr. Udad’s life depended on him. She was grateful and proud that he was willing to fight for the life of a man he had every right to condemn. But it hurt more than she would have liked that he had acknowledged how little she mattered when compared with his work, especially after the discussion she had had with his mother yesterday.
Ever dutiful, Eleanor decided to soldier on. The militia were making ready to depart with the princess in the morning, and with Colin gone she found herself overseeing their preparations as well as those for the evening’s festivities. When she passed Leo in the hall that afternoon she was so preoccupied that she almost walked right past him without a second glance, only stopping when he said her name.
“Everything ready for tonight?”
“It should be,” said Eleanor, who was on her way to look over the last delivery of flowers. She had a note in her hand from Mrs. Althorpe, who wondered if she might not bring her brother after all. It was the usual chaos that preceded a country ball, and Eleanor found herself relishing it for all that it was aggravating.
“Colin’s gone to London, I understand.”
Eleanor nodded, taking a step closer to her brother so that she could lower her voice. “He means to help Mr. Udad,” she said.
Colin crossed his arms and leaned back against the paneling. “I still don’t understand why you feel such sympathy for the man,” he said. “He’s a terrorist.”
“He’s no older than I am,” Eleanor said, “and I’m certain his choice was made more out of desperation than hatred. Perhaps if he were given the chance he could be something different, something better. No one should be forced into a life they don’t want.”
Looking pointedly at her, Leo said, “Do you feel that you were forced, Eleanor?”
“Of course not,” she said, looking down at her hands as they smoothed her skirts. “I made my choice, Leo. I don’t resent you for doing the honorable thing, nor do I resent Colin. It is as it must be.”
He patted her shoulder. ‘That’s our Eleanor,” he said, “always doing the right thing.”
“I do wish you’d stop saying that,” Eleanor grumbled. “After all, I clearly do not always do what is expected of me. If I did, I would not be married to Colin now.”
Leo shrugged and pushed away from the wall. As he went into the salon he called out, “Perhaps that was the right thing, then.”
Eleanor stood in the hall for a moment, staring after him. Just as she was about to go into the drawing room in search of the Duchess of Kent, however, a footman appeared with a stack of letters for her. Casting a guilty glance in the direction of the drawing room, Eleanor escaped up the stairs to her room.
There were letters from Imogen, Cynthia, and Clarissa, all of whom had received word of her marriage. All expressed their joy, but also their sadness at losing her assistance in the preparations for the school. Eleanor sat at her desk, allowing a few tears to escape and roll down her chee
ks as she read what Cynthia had written about the happiness marriage had brought her. She wondered if she would ever feel the joy her friends had found with their husbands.
Of the three, Imogen was the only one who was unmarried, but even she gushed about her excitement. Much of her letter was composed of details about the Knightsbridge School, the children who were already in residence and the issues left to be resolved. Clarissa and her husband were taking their twins home to Ramsay, the Earl of Stowe’s ancestral home in Somerset, soon, leaving Imogen alone to deal with all those problems, and though she wrote brightly about how much she enjoyed a challenge, Eleanor knew that her friend was feeling overwhelmed.
There was a knock at the door, and Georgina came in. “Oh, good,” she said, closing the door behind her. “I was worried you would be downstairs.”
“Are you hoping to escape our guests, too?” Eleanor asked, grinning.
Georgina laughed softly. “I must confess I am,” she said, crossing the room and dropping into the chair nearest her sister. “It does become rather overwhelming after a while, doesn’t it? All those people, all the gossip and banter. I feel out of my depth.”
Eleanor smiled. “You’ll learn. The longer you live in this world, the easier it becomes.”
Frowning, Georgina said, “I’m not sure I want to learn. Maris is far better at this than I am. Perhaps I should leave her to it. Do you think mother would ever allow me to just stay here at the Park?”
“Do you really hate it that much?” Eleanor was surprised. She had thought Georgina had been excited for her come-out last year and had enjoyed her Seasons in London. But the look of pure misery on her sister’s face as she contemplated returning to London for the endless round of balls and parties after the holidays made more tears spring to Eleanor’s eyes. She rose and went over to kneel beside Georgina, taking her hand.
Georgina nodded grimly. “I know I cannot stay here forever. I know that it is foolish to wish for such a thing. But oh, how I hate London, and the ton, and society!”
“You have a choice, Georgina. Of course you do. I’m sure mother would allow you to stay at the Park when she and Maris go to Town after Christmas. You might grow lonely here, of course, but it is certainly an option.”
Shaking her head, Georgina said, “She might allow it, but she would make me feel guilty about it the whole Season. You’re only saying that to be kind. But I don’t want you to worry about me, Eleanor. Everything will be all right in the end.” She brushed a single tear from her cheek.
“That’s my brave girl,” Eleanor said, feeling as though she were far more than two years’ Georgina’s senior.
The door opened again, and their mother came it. “There you both are!” she cried, completely oblivious to the tender scene she had interrupted. “Eleanor, you are needed downstairs. Mrs. Parkinson says there are no more eggs and she still has to prepare a custard, and I really don’t know what to do.”
Eleanor smiled and rose, resuming the mantle of the dutiful daughter. “Of course,” she said. She squeezed Georgina’s hand and went out.
Colin delayed a little while in London in order to meet with his family’s solicitor, who dispatched a man to Brussels immediately to look out apartments suitable for a young diplomat and his wife. The solicitor promised that the rooms would be ready by the time Colin and Eleanor arrived in Brussels, though Colin thought that was a rather optimistic prediction, especially given the way Belgians generally negotiated over rents. Still, he was hopeful that he would be able to bring Eleanor to a place that could truly become their home, where they could be happy together. He could not forget the way she had looked as he said that she would become accustomed to his world, would adjust to fit into it. Had he really meant that?
He gave the matter more thought as he rode out of London and through the countryside. He had always imagined that when he took a bride she would acclimate to the diplomatic world, and would learn to fit seamlessly into the life he had already created. He had never thought that he might also have to make some adjustments, and he wasn’t sure he was prepared to do so now. Wasn’t it enough, after all, that he was giving up his lodgings in order to take her along with him? There were men, he knew, who left their wives in London or the British countryside when they took posts abroad on behalf of the Foreign Office. It would not be considered abnormal for him to do so as well, and if he had been asked a few weeks earlier he might not have balked at such an arrangement. But somehow he could not imagine leaving Eleanor behind.
She loved him. He had heard her say so when she thought he was sleeping. They might have a chance at a happy marriage, a marriage that was more than just the loose connection between two separate individuals that Colin had observed growing up.
When he finally arrived at Sidney Park in the late afternoon, however, it was clear that the discussion he had hoped to have with Eleanor would not be happening before the chaos of the ball began. Crawley was waiting for him in the hall.
“Well?” he asked.
“Palmerston has agreed to my proposal,” Colin said.
Crawley breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad to hear it, My Lord,” he said, following Colin through the door to the servants’ stairs. “I don’t like to admit it, but I’m actually beginning to like Mr. Udad. He’s an amiable fellow, for all that he’s made some poor choices in his youth, and I would hate to see him hanged or locked away.”
“So would I,” Colin said, feeling equally embarrassed to acknowledge his growing respect for their captive.
His admiration grew a little more when they reached the dressing room and found that there was no guard outside. The door was unlocked, and yet when they opened it they found Udad sitting quietly on his pallet, waiting for them. He had not tried to escape, though he knew the potential fate that had awaited him.
“You will be pleased to hear, Mr. Udad, that I have secured your freedom.”
Udad blinked up at him, looking rather puzzled. “Freedom?” he asked.
“You are not to be tried. You will be released.”
“Why?”
Colin crouched down beside him. “Our government does not find it...convenient...to try you at this time, Mr. Udad. They would rather pretend that you do not exist. But there are a few conditions. You can never go back to Algeria.”
Udad nodded sadly. “I did not think they let me go there,” he said.
“You also may never return to England.”
Now Udad looked even more confused. “Then where will I go?” he asked.
Colin smiled. “To Brussels, with me. I am going to take you on as an assistant, Mr. Udad. You have some useful skills, and I think with some training you could be very valuable. Are you willing to do the work?”
The man still gaped at him. After a long moment he said, “I may either stay in England and die or go to this place with you and live?”
Colin was impressed with how much Udad’s English had improved in just a few days’ captivity. It only solidified in his mind his determination. If he could turn this man, earn his loyalty and trust, at least to Colin if not to the British crown, he would be an extremely valuable asset to the Foreign Office. “That is your choice, yes.”
Udad stood. “I choose to live,” he said. “Thank you, My Lord.”
Colin held out his hand. Udad took it hesitantly and shook it. “We will leave in the morning,” Colin said. “I’m afraid you’ll have to stay downstairs, but there will be no guards posted at the door. You are free to move about this level as you wish.”
Udad nodded, though he looked as though he would rather face death than risk encountering Mrs. Parkinson. Colin had to smile at that. Just then, Mr. Parkinson appeared at the door. “I’m sorry to intrude, My Lord,” he said, “but Lady Sidney asked me to tell you the guests will be arriving in an hour.”
“Of course,” Colin said. He gave Udad a friendly nod and then led Crawley out into the hall. “Will you be attending this evening?” he asked.
Crawley shrugged. “I w
as invited, My Lord.”
“But?”
Another shrug. “I’m not really cut out for balls,” Crawley said. Colin could well believe him. With his height and muscular bulk, Crawley cut an intimidating figure in his everyday, drab clothing. With his tan skin and dark, brooding looks, he would be quite a formidable sight in evening dress. “And I have no costume,” Crawley added now, grinning wryly.
“Neither have I,” Colin said. “I’m afraid I didn’t plan for a masquerade when I was packing in Brussels.”
Crawley laughed at that. “It will be good to return to London,” he said, “and get back to real life.”
Colin nodded, but did not add that this was real life to most of the people in the house. He had become aware when he had first interviewed the three men who would be his aides that Crawley was the lowest-born of the three, and that he was rather sensitive about his parentage. He was the son of a bookseller in London’s East End, and had had to fight his way into a place at Oxford and then at the Foreign Office. To Crawley, life on an estate like Sidney Park was a fantasy, something far beyond his reach unless he somehow managed to scratch and claw his way into the upper echelons. At first acquaintance Colin might have said that the man didn’t have what it took, but now that he knew him a little better, he would not be surprised if the young agent went farther than anyone predicted. “What will you do when you return to London?” he asked.
“Get back to work, I suppose. Until I was assigned to you I was working on a new Russian code. But I’d also like to call on Yates’s family. He had a sweetheart, you know.”
“I didn’t know,” Colin said with a pang of regret. The poor girl would never see her suitor again. Meddur Udad’s was not the only life Strathmore had altered forever. “Have you ever considered diplomatic work, Crawley?”
“Are you looking for a replacement, My Lord?”
“Never,” Colin said with a smile as they went up the servants’ stairs. “But I’ve put in a word for you with Viscount Palmerston.”