Behind the Mask (House of Lords) (32 page)

“Well,” Colin said, forcing a casual smile, “take all the time you want. I suppose your friends will stick to their plan, even if they don’t have you with them, so I can understand why you wouldn’t want to tell me.”

Beneath his tan skin Colin could see that Udad was turning red, but the man stayed resolutely silent.

With a glance at the door, Colin said, “How would you like to get up off the table, Meddur?” It was a risk, and he saw from the way Udad’s eyes widened that it was surprising, which was exactly what he had hoped for.

Udad’s nostrils flared, and he looked away again.

“I’m sure you’d like to stretch your legs a little. Why don’t you take a stroll with us?”

For a long moment Udad did not speak. Then he said, “What is this word, stroll?”

“A walk,” Colin supplied.

The man frowned. “You take me out and give me to the White Hand, yes?”

“No,” Colin assured him. Was the man really so terrified of their leader? Why did he seem to believe that the elusive White Hand was just around the corner? “Just a little walk.” He stepped out and had a few words with the guard. Looking confused, the man came in and began loosening Udad’s bonds. As he did so Leo appeared in the doorway.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

Colin took him by the elbow and led him into the hall. “I’m going to take him into the tunnel,” Colin explained. “I’ve noticed that the man does a poor job of hiding his emotions. It will be useful to have him along. If the others have been in the Priest’s Passage, he will tell us, even if he does not wish to.”

“Very shrewd,” Leo said, though he looked unconvinced.

The guard was watching as Udad struggled to sit up. Colin saw that his wrists were raw where they had been bound, and the assassin winced and rubbed the red skin before he stood. The guard put one hand protectively on his sword. “No,” Colin said, holding up a hand. “He won’t try anything. Will you, Meddur?”

The man bowed his head a little, with a smile that was not quite as reassuring as Colin would have liked.

“Are you sure about this?” Leo asked quietly.

“No,” Colin said, “but where is he going to go? Look at him—he can barely stand, let alone run on that bandaged foot.”

Leo stared at him a moment, but at last he nodded. “Very well. Let’s go, shall we?”

Out in the corridor two more armed men waited with lanterns in their hands. Colin saw the surprise register on their face when they saw Meddur Udad limping along between him and Leo, but fortunately neither of them wished to question a viscount and future earl. Instead they trailed along silently as Leo led the way into the cold room, where another red-coated man waited beside the open door to the tunnel. Colin watched Udad carefully. The man glanced at him nervously as they went into the darkness.

“It’s six miles to Havenhall,” Leo said. “God only knows how long it took to dig this thing originally.”

“Years, probably,” Colin said. “How did you ever work up the courage to come down here as children?”

“Oh, the twins never did. I almost didn’t, either. But Eleanor was fearless. I think it had something to do with all us boys, me and Toby and John Mowbray and Anders, always one step ahead of her. Drove her mad.”

“Anders?”

“Rennick. The Earl of Stowe. Back then he was Viscount Landridge, and his mother still lived in Dorset—she hadn’t married her second husband yet. It was too far to go for holidays, so he came to Sidney Park quite often. Once I hoped—” he stopped abruptly.

Colin picked up his pace as they went deeper into the tunnel. When he was beside Leo, he said, “Go on. What did you hope?”

In the dim light of the lanterns he could not read Leo’s expression, but he thought he might have frowned. “Once I hoped that he and Eleanor would...well, it doesn’t matter. He’s happily married with two children, and she’s...”

“Stuck with me,” Colin muttered.

“She’s not stuck, Colin,” Leo said. “I know I should be furious with you, I know I should hate you, but in truth, I’m rather pleased she ended up with you. I know you’ll make her happy. It just would have been a little easier if it hadn’t happened now. Although I suppose there was no other time for it to happen, was there?”

Colin had to smile at that. He didn’t believe in fate, but it was true that it seemed almost as though some invisible hand had thrown he and Eleanor together. Perhaps he should take it as a sign.

Shaking his head to clear it of those romantic thoughts, he dropped back beside Udad again, forcing himself to focus on the assassin’s reactions. In the faint glow of the lanterns the man looked like little more than a boy. Colin found himself suddenly wondering whether he had a family back in Algeria, whether he had a wife or children.

He could not think about these things. He had to watch Udad, to see only his face, not the man behind it. But he couldn’t help it. Much though the Foreign Office prized his gift for languages, his talent for fitting seamlessly into any social setting, it was the uncanny ability he had to read people that made him an asset. But now that he
needed
that capacity, it was failing him, disappearing into the fog of other thoughts, other concerns. He had never been so distracted. Was it Eleanor? Or was it merely that his scruples were getting the better of him?

“My Lord,” one of the soldiers at his back said, “there’s something down there.”

Colin turned to look down the tunnel, where the bottom of a ladder was visible within a weak shaft of light coming down from above. Colin slowed his pace as he neared it, but Udad suddenly cried out and pushed past Leo, running as best he could with his wounded foot down the tunnel until he reached what appeared to be a pile of dark cloth on the stones. It was not, of course. It was a body, clothed in the same black attire as their prisoner, and now Udad knelt beside it, letting out a low wail of grief. “Usem,” he moaned, putting out his hand to turn the body over. “
Nalla nsamhasste, misse namisse.
”

Colin gestured for the men to stay back, and he and Leo approached. The dead man appeared to be no older than Udad. His pale eyes were still wide with shock, but his body had already begun to stiffen. Now Udad looked up at them, tears on his cheeks, his hand still on the dead man’s chest. “This man my...son of my father’s brother,” he said.

“Cousin,” Leo supplied.

“My cousin,” Udad repeated, “Usem Takfarinas.”

“He was one of your group?” Colin asked rather stupidly. Of course the man had been one of the Serraray. What else would he be doing in England?

But Udad merely nodded, dropping his head to the dead man’s chest. Now Colin saw a bloodstain peeking out from under the man’s turban, and he went to Udad’s side and crouched down. Gently he put his hand beneath the head, expecting to feel the wet sponginess he would have associated with a head injury. But there was almost no blood at all, and it had already dried into the fabric. The man had not been killed by a blow to the head or anything else quite so simple, then. “Bring the lantern,” Colin said, and when the guard was standing over his shoulder, he looked down into the wide-open eyes of the dead man. “Poison,” he said softly.

Udad started. “I know this word, poison,” he said, spitting out the word as though it left a bad taste in his mouth. “He die from poison?” he asked, looking up at Colin.

“I believe so, yes,” Colin said. He almost added that he would like the village doctor to examine the body, but that would be impossible now. The princess and her retinue would be arriving in just a few hours, and the thought of either bringing the doctor here or somehow spiriting the body out of Sidney Park and into Porter-on-Bolling was ludicrous. Still, they could not leave it in the tunnel. Colin looked up at the man holding the lantern. “Go back and bring four men to carry the body,” he said. “We’ll put it in the dressing room for now.” The guard nodded and disappeared back down the tunnel.

“Where will you put our friend here?” Leo asked.

Realizing they were speaking of him, Udad looked from Colin to Leo and back. “I stay with him,” he said determinedly. “I make him ready for...for...”

“Burial,” Colin finished. “I suppose that’s all right. But Mr. Udad, we’ll have to lock you in with him, and you won’t be able to come out until tonight when it’s time to bury him.”

“Is all right,” Udad said, tears brimming in his eyes again. “His mother, she want me to be with him now.”

“Of course,” Colin said, surprised at the kindness he heard in his tone. He wondered if Lord Pennethorne would have given a captured terrorist the right to clean and prepare his slain fellow’s body for burial. Probably not. Perhaps he was growing soft. Still, he could not bear to look at the man’s grief and not allow him at least this small mercy. Another reason he would never be a successful spy.

Now they heard the sound of running boots echoing down the passage. In a moment five red-coated men appeared and gathered around the body. Leo pulled Udad back and held him by the shoulders as the soldiers lifted the body and bore it away.

“I think that’s enough for one morning,” Colin said stiffly, and taking Udad by the arm he led the rest of the group back down the tunnel and out into the cold room.

When Eleanor woke the sun was streaming through the windows and the other side of the bed was empty. She rolled over into the space Colin had occupied, breathing in his scent.

Someone had picked up all his clothes and her nightgown and draped them over the back of a chair. For a moment she allowed herself to hope that it had been Colin, but then she saw the tray on the little desk by the window and realized Lily had already been in. Hopefully it had been after Colin left, for though Eleanor did not really mind Lily knowing she had slept in the altogether, having her maid walk in while Colin was still in bed beside her was too embarrassing to consider. But Lily was a smart woman—she would know that the rules were different now that Eleanor was a married woman.

Indeed, Lily seemed to have grasped the situation, for Eleanor saw her robe lying at the foot of the bed. She got up and slipped into it, then crossed to the desk, pouring herself a cup of coffee that was still mercifully hot.

As though she had somehow sensed that Eleanor was awake, Lily bustled into the room. “Good morning, My Lady,” she said, sweeping the pile of clothes from the chair and taking them into the dressing room. When she came back out she was carrying Eleanor’s pale gray walking dress.

“Is my mother about yet, Lily?” Eleanor asked as she sat down at the dressing table.

“Yes, My Lady, though she’s in her sitting room writing letters now.”

“Good,” Eleanor said. She was not quite ready to face the preparations for the princess’s visit yet. What was more, seeing her mother after her wedding night, no matter her state of disgrace beforehand, held very little appeal.

When Lily had finished her hair and done up the last button on the walking dress Eleanor went to her desk. “Take the tray away, please, Lily. I will write letters this morning, I think, and meet with Mrs. Clarence later.”

“Very good, My Lady,” her maid said.

It was only when the door had closed and Eleanor was alone again that she forced herself to pull a piece of paper from the drawer. How did one write a letter announcing one’s downfall to one’s friends? Eleanor was not sure even the most masterful governess could have taught her that sort of etiquette. Still, there was nothing else to be done. She could hardly allow her friends to hear of her marriage via country gossip. And she
had
to inform Clarissa and Cynthia and Imogen that she would be going to Staffordshire and then to Brussels. She had imagined a few days earlier that she could somehow avoid this odious task, but she knew she knew she was wrong. So she picked up her pen and did not allow herself to quibble.
Dear Cynthia,
she wrote,
I hope all is well. I have some news that may surprise you...

Just as she finished the third letter, this one to Clarissa, the door flew open and Colin came in, Leo at his shoulder. Eleanor leaped from her chair, panic rising up inside her as she saw the expression on her brother’s face.