“That’s mostly correct,” Dominic agreed. “Peel’s men have been effective in containing disorder. But there are still occasional disturbances, especially regarding disputes over tenancy and eviction issues in the countryside. Those disturbances are met with force which, as you can understand, is deeply resented by the local populations.”
“Then they should obey the law and not cause so much bloody trouble,” the duke snapped. “They bring it down upon themselves with their damned agrarian outrages. If a landlord wants to evict some bloody useless Catholic tenant from his land, he has every right to do so.”
Dominic’s green eyes went as cold as ice chips. Will had the distinct impression he was struggling not to verbally rip the duke’s head off.
“The situation is indeed disturbing,” Dominic finally answered in a carefully neutral voice. “In any event, although Ireland is peaceful for the most part, the administration in Dublin is forced to keep a very close watch on the situation.”
“Which, I assume, means eyes and ears on the ground,” Will said.
“Spies, you mean,” Alec said more bluntly.
Dominic waggled his hand in a not exactly gesture. “Let’s just say there are those who fear the bloodshed that would surely result from another uprising, even though they are generally sympathetic to the Catholic cause. But given the circumstances, these particular individuals believe it a sensible course of action to pass their concerns on to Peel.”
“They’re informants, in other words,” Alec said in a dry voice.
Dominic shrugged but didn’t answer.
The duke glanced impatiently at the bracket clock on the mantel. “Get on with it, Dominic, will you?”
Dominic nodded, even though his thinned lips revealed his irritation. “There have been rumblings that cells of radicals are forming in Limerick and Tipperary, and also up north near Ulster. Most of the rumors that have reached us are likely just that—rumors. But a highly reliable source in Ulster has come into possession of some disturbing and credible information. According to this source, a group of these radicals may already be in England with the express intention of plotting the assassination of a high-ranking member of government, or even a member of the royal family. The most obvious targets would be Peel or Liverpool, or possibly the Regent. Others could be under threat too.”
Will shook his head. “That’s not much to go on.”
“As usual,” Alec said sarcastically.
“The defense of one’s country never comes easily, Gilbride,” the duke huffed.
Will hastily intervened before Alec could step into it further. “No, sir, it doesn’t. And Alasdair and I stand ready to do whatever is necessary. But surely there are agents with both a greater understanding of the Irish question and intimate knowledge of where in London such conspirators might be found.”
“Generally I would agree with you,” Dominic said. “And I will give you the support you need in those areas. But there is one particular reason why you, Will, are most suited for this mission.”
Uncharacteristically, Dominic hesitated, and faint warning bells began to sound in Will’s head. “And that reason is?”
Dominic tilted his head, and a calculating look Will had never seen before briefly crossed his face. The bells in his head clanged even louder.
“Because an old friend of yours could possibly be involved in this conspiracy,” Dominic said. “Her involvement is not necessarily by intention, but more likely by her association with certain persons.”
“And who is this old friend?” Will slowly asked with a sense of impending doom.
“Miss Evelyn Whitney, daughter of Lord and Lady Reese,” Dominic replied. “I believe you know her quite well.”
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2014 by Vanessa Kelly
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First Electronic Edition: December 2014
ISBN: 978-1-4201-3131-4
Published in the United States of America
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